“Anything else?”
“A hard-on.”
She laughed again, warm and rich. “God, I miss you.”
“I miss you too.”
“I wish I could see you.”
“I’d mail you a picture,” I said, “but I don’t have a wide-angle lens.”
“Ha! That was good.”
“Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here all week.”
“Hold on a sec,” she said. “My bath is ready. I don’t wanna drop the phone.”
I listened to her turn off the water and sink into it with a low groan of pleasure.
She picked up the phone again. “God, this water feels good.”
“I know what would make it better.”
“You?”
“Yep.”
“Mmm, I’d like that. Your hands, your hard dick…”
Speaking of which, I thought, and flopped on the bed, where I introduced the hand in question to the hard dick in question.
I started stroking as Gina described exactly what she wanted to do to me
in the bath. I didn’t even try to prolong things, so I had to juggle the phone and reach for Kleenex at the same time. She must have heard, because she started telling me how much she wanted to taste my come. I blasted the tissues with about a quart of the white stuff.
“I wish I could taste it,” she said as I caught my breath.
“Me too.” I swallowed to moisten my mouth. “Your turn?”
“I wanna take my time, I think.”
“Fine by me.”
“You remember the first time I gave you head?”
I thought back. “Um… at the quarry?”
“Uh-uh. On the raft. Movie night.”
“Ah, that’s right! I remember now. We could hear the laughter from the clubhouse.” I chuckled. “I remember trying to concentrate on what you were doing.”
“You came on my face. It was the first time I tasted you.”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“And then you came on my boobs.” She sighed, and I imagined her fingers moving in circles over her clit. “That’s why I’m wearing your pearls today. I was thinking of you last night. About our first time.”
My dick perked back up, so I gave it some attention.
“The women at the clinic thought they were pretty. I got hotter and wetter every time they said, ‘What a lovely pearl necklace.’ They had no idea.”
I snorted a laugh. “I bet.”
“I almost had to slip away to the bathroom to take care of things.”
“I can imagine.”
“But I’m glad I waited. I came home and read your letter and wanted you more than ever. God, you make me so hot.”
“And you make me so hard.”
Her breathing grew heavier, and I described what I remembered of that first blowjob on the raft.
“Stop,” she said at last, breathless. “I don’t wanna come yet.”
“Mind if I do?”
“Mmm, I’d love it.”
“I wish you were blowing me now.”
She laughed suddenly. “You remember the time Heather went to that party and told people she was Becky Leonardi?”
“Vaguely.”
“Becky Blowjob,” Gina said with a sigh of nostalgia. “God, we had fun back then. Heather and I were talking about it yesterday. That’s why I was horny last night and thinking of you.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Remember prom night?” She let out a soft sigh, and I realized that she was playing with herself again.
“With Scott and Shannon?”
“Mmm, yeah. Heather and I double-teamed him.”
“I remember.” It was the first (and only) time I’d had sex with Shannon.
“He screwed me while I licked her. Oh, God… that was so hot.”
“No kidding.”
“And then later Heather and I sixty-nined. Her tongue on my clit and Scott’s cock in my ass. Unh!”
“You like it in the ass, don’t you?”
“I do.” She panted. “I wanted to do it after the wedding. I wanted you in my ass.”
“You should’ve told me.”
“I want it now, your big cock in my ass.”
I reached for more tissues and almost dropped the phone.
Gina moaned in pleasure. “Oh, God, give it to me.”
I muffled a groan and hosed the Kleenex with another load of semen.
Gina was still panting when I recovered. She moaned and whimpered, so I told her how I wanted to spread her cheeks and slide into her. I added details and kept talking until she cried out.
A shiver ran through me as I listened to her orgasm. The big head was ready for another round, but the little one needed a break.
You’re getting soft, I told it.
I need more exercise.
Maybe you’re right.
And proper facilities, it added. Your hand is getting tired.
Ha! Working on it.
Gina eventually recovered enough to speak. “That was totally awesome.
Can’t you just fly out here and give me what I want?”
“’Fraid not. Sorry.”
“Why not?” she half-whined.
“You want the long version or the short one?”
“Ooh, ooh, the long one.”
“Ha! But seriously. No can do. Sorry. I’m as busy as you.”
“I know. I just wish…”
“Yeah, me too.”
“Hold on a second,” she said. “The phone just beeped at me. Ugh! It says Low Battery. Regan must’ve left it off the charger. I hate when she does that.”
“That’s okay,” I said. “I need to go anyway.”
“Hot date?”
“A project, actually. And some reading. But if I had a date, it’d be with you.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear.” She fell silent for a moment. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too.”
“The phone is beeping at me again. This is so lame. I’d better go. I’ll send you a letter tomorrow.”
“Okay. I’ll look for it.”
She hesitated, and I knew why.
I wasn’t ready to say it either.
“Well, bye,” she said at last.
“Yep. Bye.”
Chapter 19
I ran into a snag with my project when I started building the model. The curve of the roof was impossible with the materials I had. I tried everything.
Poster board was too flimsy. Foamcore wouldn’t bend. Balsa split when I tried to bend it with the grain and wouldn’t bend at all when I tried against. I even tried laminating thin sheets of it, but the results were a mess. Ditto with poster board. I wasted a small fortune in supplies and finally decided that I didn’t have the tools or experience to do it right.
“Why don’t you try plastic?” Christy suggested as we contemplated the failed experiments.
“Like Saran Wrap?”
“No, like plexiglass or something. One of the guys I know is creating sculpture with it. He uses a heat gun and bends it into all sorts of shapes. He might be able to help.”
“I’ll try anything at this point.” I looked at my watch. “Ten thirty at night on a Sunday. Do you think he’s still in his studio?”
She laughed. “No, but I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”
“Great news,” Christy said after aerobics. She handed me her duffle. “My friend—his name is Jonas, by the way—said he can do it. No problem.” She danced ahead and then twirled.
“Why does she always do this after aerobics?” Trip asked Wren as an aside.
“Too much energy. I think she’s hyper.” She eyed me sideways. “She needs more sex. It calms her down.”
“I heard that, Miss Fussbudget,” Christy said. “And my sex life is just fine, thank you very much.”
I snickered.
Christy gave me a sunlit smile and pirouetted away.
“When can we get started?” I asked her.
“I told you, not till we’re married.”
Trip laughed.
“No,” I said, “when can we get started with your friend?”
She feigned surprise. “You wanna have sex with my friend?”
“Not sex! Sheesh. All I wanna do is make a roof. Is that too much to ask?”
“All right, all right! You don’t have to get all grumpy. That’s her job.”