Page 95 of The Keeper

“Yeah?” I rasped. “Where are you right now?”

“My room. I just got out of the shower.” She sounded a little breathless.

“What are you wearing?”

“A T-shirt and panties. No bra.” Definitely breathless.

Fuck. The mental image she painted burned a path straight to my groin. Her voice didn’t help. It was soft and husky, and I could feel my control slipping with every passing second.

I heard a sharp intake of breath, followed by the rustle of clothing. I pictured her pulling her shirt over her head and baring those beautiful breasts. They were the perfect handful, soft and firm and tipped with hard, rosy nipples. My arousal thickened, pressing painfully against my zipper.

“Done. Your turn,” she said. “Take off your pants.”

I chuckled, the sound a little strained as every drop of blood surged to my cock. I liked a woman who wasn’t afraid to ask for what she wanted. I liked it even more when that woman was Carina. She was the only person I trusted enough to do something like this with.

My cock was already weeping pre-cum when I freed it. I fisted the base and gave it a long, hard stroke. “Tell me what you fantasize about when you’re playing with yourself.”

There was a long silence. The only sound was a quickening of her breaths.

“Carina.” My voice hardened. “I gave you an order.”

I heard an audible swallow. “I…I fantasize about you. Us.”

“Be more specific. What are we doing?”

“We’re in a supply closet somewhere. I’m walking past, and you grab me and pull me into the room. I’m at RAB, but we can’t wait until we get home, so we have sex right there while my colleagues are on the other side of the door. You rip my panties off and shove them in my mouth to muffle my screams.” Her tentativeness melted the more she spoke, and I could hear her confidence grow with every word.

“Keep going.” I stroked my cock again, my tight grip nearly strangling the shaft. “How am I fucking you?”

“From behind,” Carina breathed. “You make me bend over and grab on to the edge of one of the shelves. I can see you enter me from that angle, and you push in slowly for a bit, until you’re halfway in. I can feel how big and hard you are, and just when I think I can’t possibly take anymore, you slam all the way inside me. I scream, but the sound is muffled from my makeshift gag. That’s all I hear—my muffled cries, our bodies slapping against each other with each thrust, the shelves rattling from how hard you’re fucking me. It’s hot and sweaty and so fucking good, I can’t remember my own name. When I finally come, I come so hard that I nearly black out. You come right after me, but we’re not done. You make me get on my knees to clean you off until you’re hard again. Then you fuck me again, and again, until we can’t do it anymore. This entire time, we could get caught, but we don’t. And that makes the whole thing even hotter.”

I groaned, my strokes getting faster and faster. God, she had a dirty imagination, and she could tell a fucking story. If I wasn’t careful, I might come just from hearing her describe the details of her filthy little fantasy.

More pre-cum spilled from the tip of my cock, dripping over my hands and onto my stomach. I slowed my strokes long enough to ask, “Are you touching yourself to that fantasy right now?”

“Yes.” It came out as a whimper.

“Good. Put your phone on speaker and place it near your pussy. I want to hear your fingers sliding in and out of that wet little cunt.”

Carina moaned. I could practically see her blush on the other end of the line, but a moment later, I heard the distinct sound of her fingers doing exactly that.

“That’s it,” I murmured. “Fuck yourself nice and deep for me. How many fingers are you using right now?”

“T-two.”

“Push a third one in. All the way. I want you knuckles deep.”

She let out another strangled moan. Her bed creaked as her weight shifted, and her breath hitched when she did as I asked.

“Now a fourth.” Pressure collected at the base of my spine, drawing every nerve and muscle taut.

“I can’t.” Carina gasped.

“Yes, you can. Take a deep breath and relax,” I coaxed. “Pretend I’m there with you, that it’s my cock slowly stretching you out just like you fantasized. That’s it,” I said when I heard a little whimper of discomfort, followed by a longer sigh of pleasure. “Such a good girl. Can you feel me inside you?”

“Yes,” she panted. “You’re so deep, and I feel so full. I need—oh god. I need you to fuck me so bad. I…fuck.” Her pleas disintegrated into more gasps and incoherent whines.

My cock pulsed, begging for relief. I resumed my strokes, sliding and twisting my hand up and down the throbbing shaft. “I can hear how wet you are,” I growled. “So wet, I bet you’ve ruined your panties. Your sheets too. I can practically taste the juices running down your thighs, Carina, and they’re so fucking sweet.”