Chapter 26
After a whirlwind 24 hours where I spend every possible moment horizontal with Ziggy, we are once again back to being in separate cities at every given moment. This time, though, it feels different. The distance seems heavier, the silence more pronounced. I start finding more reasons to talk to her than ever before. We start texting more often, and our messages shift from just scheduling our next hookup to talking about our days, sharing random thoughts, and even joking around. It’s strange how easily we fall into this new rhythm, and I find myself looking forward to her messages. It’s become about more than just our physical connection without even realizing it. There is something more, something deeper that I don’t want to acknowledge but am incapable of ignoring any longer.
My texts with Ziggy are increasingly more frustrating. She’s busy, too busy for my liking, and her assignments seem to keep her busier than ever before. But despite the irritation, there is an undeniable thrill in our stolen moments, even if they are just digital. Any free moments I have now seem to gravitate toward Ziggy and trying to make sure she has on as little clothing as possible.
It’s well past midnight when I pick up my phone, the familiar urge driving me to reach out to her. I type out a message, knowing she will probably be annoyed, but I don’t care. I need her.
: Can’t sleep.
You up?
A few minutes later, my phone buzzes with her reply.
Ziggy: What do you want,
Elliot? It’s late.
: You know exactly
what I want.
There is a pause, and then my phone rings. Her name lights up the screen. I answer immediately.
“Hey,” I say, my voice low.
“You know, you could just call at a normal hour,” she counters, her tone laced with exasperation.
“You can call me after midnight any day, Anatife,” I say, using my nickname for her. If she really knew what it meant, she’d be annoyed.
She sighs, but I can hear the hint of a smile in her voice. “What do you want, Elliot?”
“I want you to come for me,” I say bluntly. “Right now.”
“Are you serious?” she asks, but I hear her breath hitch, a telltale sign that she is affected by my words.
“Dead serious. You’re going to come for me,” I command, my voice firm. “Are you alone?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
“Good. Put the phone on speaker, and touch yourself for me. Let me hear you.”
There is a rustle of movement, and then her breathy moans fill my ears. “You’re such a control freak,” she mutters, but I can tell she is already giving in.
“Maybe. But you love it,” I say, my hand drifting down to the heavy cock straining against the fabric of my sweats. “Does thinking about me make you wet?”
“Yes,” she replies, her voice full of frustrated desire.
“Good girl. Now ride your fingers, and don’t you dare come until I say so,” I command.
Her whimpers grow louder, and I can picture her sprawled out on her bed, her body writhing in pleasure. The thought of her touching herself to my commands is almost too much to bear.
“Elliot,” she gasps. “Please...”
“Not yet,” I say, my own breathing becoming ragged. “I want to hear you beg for it.”
Her husky moans turn desperate. “Please, Elliot. I need to come.”
“Keep going, Anatife,” I say, feeling my own release building. “Come for me, Ziggy. Let me hear you scream my name.”
Her cry of pleasure echoes through the phone, pushing me over the edge. I groan, hot cum spurting up onto my stomach, my body shuddering with the release.
After a few moments of heavy breathing, she speaks again. “Why do you always do this to me?”
“Because you let me,” I reply with a smirk tugging at my lips. “And because you love it.”
“Maybe,” she admits softly. “But it’s complicated.”
“Life’s complicated. We make it work,” I tell her, my tone softer. “Next time, you can call me after midnight, Ziggy.”
She chuckles. “Yeah, yeah. Goodnight, Elliot.”
“Goodnight, Anatife,” I say, hanging up with a satisfied smile.
The next night, it’s the same routine. A new hotel, a new city, but I still find myself thinking about her constantly. We have a pretty intense game coming up tomorrow, and I am already a little on edge about it. I need the comfort that only one annoying and bossy reporter can give me. I press her name on my phone right on time as the clock strikes midnight, and she answers my call quickly.
“You again?” she says, but there is no hiding the warmth in her voice.
“Missed you,” I put it simply. “Are you going to be a good girl and come for me on camera this time?”
She hesitates. “Elliot, I’m not sure...”
“Please, Zig. Let me watch you,” I plead, my voice taking on a desperate edge. “I need to see you.”
There is a pause, then she sighs. “Alright. But you better not record this.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I assure her, crossing my fingers over my chest for her to see, even if she can’t see it, my heart racing with anticipation.
The screen flickers to life, and there she is, her face flush with a beautiful mixture of annoyance and arousal. She sets her phone down, the angle perfect to capture her every move.
“Happy?” she asks, her fingers already moving to tease herself over her underwear. The woman is going to ruin me with her black lacy thong, lying there; I wish I could be there to rip it off of her.
“Very,” I say, my voice rough with desire. “Now, take those fingers and rub your clit until you come like a good girl.”
The sight of her, combined with her moans and the raw need in her eyes, is enough to drive me wild. Watching her get herself off on camera is hands down one of my top three favorite things to do.
“Ziggy,” I say huskily, leaving no room for argument.. “I want you to watch me this time.”
She falters before nodding. “Alright. Show me.”
I position my phone, letting her see every detail as I stroke my hard cock, her name falling from my lips as I bring myself to the edge. Her eyes widen, her breath coming faster as she watches.
“Are you going to be a good boy and come for me on camera?” she asks, her voice taking on a teasing tone. “Let me watch you.”
With a groan, I give in, my body trembling as I come. Her eyes stay locked on mine. It is the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had, and as I level out from the high, I feel a strange sense of satisfaction.
“You’re something else, Ziggy,” I say, my voice filled with admiration.
“Right back at you,” she replies, a soft smile on her lips. “But remember, this is just physical. No complications.”
“Agreed,” I promise her, though a part of me wonders how long we can keep pretending it is just that. For now, though, it will have to be enough.
As the days turn into weeks, our encounters became a secret ritual, a twisted form of connection that neither of us can fully explain. And every night, around midnight, I know I can call her, and she will be there, ready to fulfill my every desire.