Page 63 of If This Was a Movie

“Oh, god. I’m the worst. I’m sorry, this is so embarrassing and inappropriate, I didn’t mean to pressure you into something you aren’t—” I start rambling, but he cuts me off.

“Stop right there,” he says, and I find my entire body tightening. “Stop because there is nothing I’d love more than to hear you make yourself come over the phone, except maybe to run over there and fuck you until you realized how fucking perfect we were together. I am just terrified of moving things too fast with you and you pulling away.”

“Oh,” I say low. “So…you’re not against it?”

Why am I the way I am?

“You moaning in my ear after a year of not having that? Fuck no, I’m not against it, Jules.”

Silence fills the line, and all I can think about is how I’d also like to hear Nate moaning in my ear, jacking himself off. All common sense is gone, my singular focus being that possibility.

So I decide to be brave. I might not be able to be brave when it comes to our relationship, but I can attempt to be brave with this. My fingers slide up under my pajama top, moving to my breast and cupping it before rolling my nipple, my breath hitching as I do.

“What are you doing, Jules?” Nate asks hesitantly

“Playing with my nipples,” I whisper, and the groan that comes through the line has me smiling. I like that—knowing something so simple brought that noise out of him. “It feels nice.” Another groan, then a rustle of sheets before he speaks again.

“If we’re doing this, we’re doing it my way.”

“Your way?” My fingers move to the other breast, the nipple already peaked as I pinch it.

“You do what I say when I say it.”

I bite my lip, my heart pounding with excitement.

“But are you going to…” I don’t know if I could handle this as being one-sided. I’m brave, but not that brave.

“Yeah, baby, I’m going to jack off while I listen to you make yourself come.” I moan then, picturing it, and he moans in return like he really fucking liked the sound of that. “Jesus, Jules.”

I’m already panting, my nipples hard, my phone cradled between my ear and my shoulder as I lay back in bed.

“What are you wearing?”

“That’s what you’re starting with?” I ask with a giggle.

“You’re right; let’s just cut to the chase. Take your pants off. And your panties.”

“I—”

“Mine are coming off too, Jules.” There’s a rustle again, and slowly, I start to shimmy my pants down, speeding up when I hear a deep groan come through the line. “God, I’m already so fucking hard.”

“Okay, they’re off,” I whisper breathlessly.

“Good, baby. Now, take your hand and slide it down your belly. Slowly. Once you reach your pussy, glide a finger down, but don’t finger yourself, okay? I want you to tell me what it feels like.”

I do as he asks, my fingers leaving a trail of fire along my skin as I do. Finally, I reach my slit, gliding over my clit, my middle finger running over me gently, then back up.

“I’m so wet,” I whisper. He groans loudly, and it sends a bolt through me, my fingers moving to circle my clit.

“God, I want to be there. Wanna see that.”

“You could be,” I say, even though I don’t know if that’s something I’m ready for right now.

“No, no. This is good. This is really good, Jules.” I let out a shaky breath with the heat in his words. “Circle your clit. Play with it, baby.”

“Shit,” I moan, my now wet middle finger sliding in a circle around my clit before zeroing in on it, rubbing fast, then slow, then repeating the motion.

I’m teasing myself, listening to Nate’s heavy breathing on the other line. My eyes drift closed, thinking of what he would look like. Is he in pajamas? Did he leave his shirt on? Are his pants off, or just lowered just enough to let his cock out?

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