22. Lennox
22
LENNOX
M y body buzzes with adrenaline as I dial her number. I could say I haven’t spent three days thinking about her trying those toys out. I could, but that would be a lie.
Was she shy and apprehensive? Did she grow bolder by the last one? Did she moan and pinch her nipples?
“Hello.” Her sweet voice pulls me out of my thoughts. Her breath is labored, like she just engaged in a straining activity.
“Hi. Were you just working out?” Get your mind out of the gutter, Lennox.
“Nope,” she pops the p quietly.
“What were you doing, then?”
“Homework.” Her simple statement shoots to my dick. I pause to get myself under control, and she continues, “I had to do one toy a day, and today was the fourth one.”
“And how about you tell me how that went.”
After a short pause, her timid voice fills the speaker. “The first day… it was the clitoral stimulator.” I can practically see her nibbling her lip nervously. “It took some getting used to. So, it wasn’t my favorite.”
“Mhm.” I don’t want to interfere.
“The second day was better; it was the bullet vibrator. I-I came faster than day one.”
“That’s good. How about day number three?”
“It was the wand. It was way too strong.” A soft giggle fills my ears. “But it got me to come pretty fast.” This time, the pause is barely existent before she continues, “Day number four was even better. The rabbit… the rabbit was something else.” She clears her throat. “I came the fastest.” Her voice is still shy, but I can hear her smiling. It’s obvious it wasn’t about the toys. Each day was better because she grew more comfortable with her body.
“What did you do?”
“What do you mean?”
“How did you do it?” I’m breathing heavy, my dick now straining against my pants. Imagining that perfect body of hers writhing on the bed as she touches herself. Hearing about it is a part of the exercise, but it sure as hell isn’t a punishment to me.
“You want me to explain?”
“Yes. How did you get in the mood?”
“Well… the first day, I didn’t do anything. Then, I started reading my books.” Her tone turns lower. “Which helped.”
“Did you imagine yourself as one of the characters?”
“Yes,” she breathes out.
“What were you doing?”
“P-plenty of things.”
“Some of the things from the list?”
“What list?”
“The list you stole from me, Firecracker.”
Her breath hitches. “Maybe.”
“Did your other hand roam your body?” This is a dangerous fucking conversation, but I’m too deep to pull out.
“Not at first. But yes, my other hand was mostly playing”—a pause—“with my breasts.”
A quiet groan breaks free. “You did such a good job.” Fuck, I want to look at her eyes as I praise her. “I would love to see your pretty pussy pulse with need as you pleasure yourself. I guess you’ll have to show me.” I grind my teeth. “But for now, I want you to fill out that checklist you stole. So I can make sure I make every single one of your fantasies come true. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes.” She’s practically panting.
“Good. I’ll talk to you soon.”
I end the call before I take this further. I want to hear her fall apart on the phone, but I’m afraid I’d hop on my bike and get to her place ready to defile her in every way I’ve imagined. And she’s not ready for that. No, I need to take this slow. To ease her into it. No matter how much I want to corrupt her.