Page 73 of Dirty Like Brody
“You should touch yourself,” I managed to say. “Take yourcockout.”
Geez. I’d never said anything like that toaman.
Feltgood.
“It’s already out,” he said, his voice thick witharousal.
“What are youdoing?”
“What I always do when I think about you gettingyourselfoff.”
“Oh,” I sighed, still touching myself as I came down. “You thinkaboutthat?”
“Yeah,” he said. “A lot.Jessa…” His voice got huskier and all breathy as he jerked himself off, which I was pretty sure he was doing by now. “You asked me tocomeover…”
“Yeah,”Isaid.
“You wantmeto?”
“Yeah. I want you to.” I swallowed, but I’d been this brave already; I could be braver. “I wish youwerehere.”
“Why? You want this,sweetheart…?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I want it. I want you… deepinsideme.”
Oh, shit.Did Isaythat?
Truth. It was nothing but truth.But…wow.
Brody liked it; his breathing got faster, heavierstill.
“Tell me what you’re doing right now,”Isaid.
And hetoldme.
He told me how hard he was for me, how much he wanted me. He told me about what his hand was doing, and how much better it would’ve felt if it was me; how hot it was when I came, and how he was going to come too, soon, but he didn’t want it to happen too fast, because this was all just way too fucking good, and he could barely believe itwasreal…
“It’s real, Brody,” Iwhispered.
And for some reason that I now could not fathom, I realized that the thought of a guy jerking himself off had never seemed all that incredibly appealing to me, yet the thought of Brody with his dick in his hand, all hard and throbbing and wanting into my body… oh, God, yeah… I was alloverthat.
And he was really, really good atphonesex.
I’d never had phone sex before. I’d never had a long distance relationship. I’d never had any relationship where I needed to get off, likenow, so bad that I had to do it over the phone while just listening to him breathe and coax mealong.
It was new. Hot. And familiar, somehow. Because my eyes were closed as I pictured him, andthatI’d done plenty oftimes.
Hundreds of millions oftimes.
Really, when had Ieverhad sex, with myself or anyone else, when I wasn’t thinking ofBrody?
Never.
Never,ever.
“I’m gonna come,Jessa…”
“Yeah,” I whispered. “Come.” And as I listened to his tight breaths, the low grown as he lost control of himself—picturing him coming, his cock in his fist—I came again, losing myself in the sounds of his ecstasy, in the image of it in my head. All the while just kind of blown away that this washappening.
