Faceless Fuck Ch. 02byBoheminxen©
I was in Spain when I finally called him. Part of me needed to gain the courage to dial the ten digits, and part of me just needed to remember. I came across the note he had left me as I unpacked one night, having splurged on a hotel. That's not to say random fucks in the night are the usual for me, but the foreign places kept me distracted enough that I used it as an excuse not to call for a while. 'Oh, I'm so tired. I just walked all over this town.' or 'I have to catch a train; I better not be late.'
I dialed the number once, and erased it only to dial once more, pressing the send button before I could back out of it again. I bit my lip, listening as I perched on the edge of the bed. It rang four or five times, each ring breaking my resolve. I was about to give up and hang up when he finally answered.
"Hello?" he asked, voice still husky and deep, just as I remembered it.
Before I could lose my nerve, I blurted," They're green."
"Excuse me?" he asked, obviously baffled.
"My eyes. They're not blue. They're green," I repeated.
"Opal? Is that you? I had just about given up on you calling," he said, an amused satisfaction seeping into his voice, a little cocky.
"Oh? Have you been sitting around, thinking about me, pining?" I asked, grinning, and laying further back on the bed, settling for a good conversation.
He chuckled," Of course. Absolutely dying to hear from the girl with a heart on her butt cheek."
I blushed, surprised laughter bubbling from my lips," What'd you do, pull back the sheets and examine me before you snuck away?"
"Oh, yes, and it was a very thorough examination. You have the cutest freckle on your inner thigh. I was rather tempted to kiss it, among other things... give you a fun little awakening. But the sun was up and people were about to wake up," he added wistfully.
"So you say," I teased with a smile.
"Mhm," he murmured, a smile in his voice, too," So, are you finally back in America or in just another hostel?"
"I'm in Spain, splurged on a hotel tonight. It's beautiful here, the country, the people, the language... I only wish I had taken Spanish in high school," I admitted.
"What did you take, then?" he asked, random curiosity sparking.
"German, three years," I answered, truthfully.
"Oh yeah? So, gonna seduce me with some German tonight?" he teased.
"Oh, is that why you gave me your number? So I could get you off, miles away?" I asked, teasing back.
"But of course. Did you think someone that would fuck a complete stranger in the dark would be interested in coffee after wards?" he asked, and then continued his teasing," Besides, we both know you've been missing my cock ever since. And as I'm not there to fuck you to another mind-blowing orgasm, you'll have to settle for my words and your own fingers."
"Oh? I will? Is that a demand?" I asked, once more unable to take offense in his bold, blunt sexual advances, and couldn't muster the decency nor morality to say no to a still nearly complete stranger.
At least I knew his name this time.
"Exactly," he joked, but in a more serious tone, he asked," Tell me, Opal, have you cum today?"
"Once, this morning, as I was taking my bath, before I went out."
"Do you touch yourself often, then?"
"Back home, at least once or twice a day, often in the shower or bath and before I go to bed. But as hostels aren't much for privacy, I've been lacking lately," I admitted.
"What were you thinking about this morning?" he asked, his husky voice doing funny things deep in my tummy as arousal seeped into his tone.
"My ex," I answered, before realizing how stupid the truth was, how awful it sounded, wishing I could take it back almost immediately.
His tone didn't change, just for a slight hitched note in his first word, disappointment," Ah, still miss him?"
"Her," I corrected, biting my lip, still mentally kicking myself for saying anything.
And just like that, his disappointed tone was gone, replaced with a grin in his voice as he spoke," Oh, well, aren't you an adventurous little slut, fucking strangers and women, too. You could be the poster child for preachers' rants on the degradation of the youth today. I don't know how your parents trusted you to go to Europe, all by your lonesome. Or did you run off, as though to rebel? Is that when you got your girly little tat?"
"Ah, fuck off," I told him with a laugh," As if you're so damn innocent."
"Yeah, but men are supposed to be sluts. Double standards blow, don't they?" he asked, almost thoughtful, but didn't allow me to answer, continuing," But yes, you made yourself cum to your ex-girlfriend. Do go on, love. What was she like?"
"She was crazy -- and to answer your question from before, my parents weren't aware I was fucking her, just thought she was a close friend, if not a bad influence --, and incredibly gorgeous, in a rebellious sort of way. We both got that heart tattoo, together, since I was too much of a pussy to get anything elaborate. She wasn't though; she had a few others. The most elaborate were the music notes on her rib cage, the intro to her favorite song.
"She had purple hair, only to her shoulders and choppy, and blue eyes that erred on the lavender side of the color spectrum. Her breasts were small, an A or B cup, with tiny, sensitive nipples that had bars through them. She was tiny all over, short and spunky, but a ballet dancer, as well. She didn't have much of an ass, either, and her cunt was a pretty little thing, pink as a flower, but not tight at all. She was older than me, almost done with college, and could take my fist," I said, surprised still, despite the amount of time we had been together and how long it had been since then, too.
"And yet you're so tight," he said, a question in his statement.
"She liked me that way, was as fascinated with my tightness as I was by her looseness," I said, the slight shrug of my slender shoulder in my voice.
He was silent for a moment and then," What are you wearing?"
"A purple peasant top, and black shorts," I answered, unable to come up with anything more suggestive and seductive than the truth before I was expected to answer.
"Very cute. What's underneath?" he asked, another smile in his voice, perhaps at my innocence, my obvious honesty.
"A matching purple set, satin with black lace trim."
"Tell me, doll, what's on your cute ass? Boy-shorts? Bikini-cut? A thong, perhaps?" was his next question.
I laughed," A thong, yeah."
"When you bend over, do you give everyone a peek?" he asked, a smirk in his voice this time.
"I don't know. Want to find out?" I asked, tempted to stick my tongue out at his cocky tone, if only he were in front of me.
"Strangers, women, phone sex, and now naughty photos... I think I like you," he laughed.
I laughed, too, again," Give me a sec, alright?"
"Just one?" I could hear him ask, but already, the phone was from my ear, as I flipped through the menu for my camera.
I moved to the closet, where full-length mirrors made the sliding doors. Looking back, as I bent over, purple triangle of the back in full show, the suggestion of the crack of my ass, I blew him a kiss for the photo. And then sent it.
"Fuck, we should have turned on the lights that night. Fuck the rest of the people," he said, just a few seconds later, his voice serious," You have mile-long legs, you know that? And such a nice, tight little ass."
"Maybe the lights should have stayed off -- I don't even know what you look like, yet," I teased, smiling and blushing, pleased with the compliments.
"Alright, hang on, it's my turn," he said, and then his voice far away, joking," Just be nice, don't break my heart."
And a few seconds later, I was rewarded with a picture message in my in-box. I bit my lip, peeking through my fingers as it popped on the screen when I opened the message, and nearly giggled with pure delight, rather proud of myself. He was sexy in that bad ass sort of way, the guy your momma warns you about it but can't ever save you from.
The picture only showed his face: the mischievous blue eyes and generous lips smirking, the light mark of a scar along his jaw, long faded, but made obvious by the light growth of stubble that could only grow around it, and an eyebrow piercing that I had somehow missed in our night together. His hair was dark and short, longer than your momma might find acceptable, but not quite long enough to really tangle your fingers in.
"If you're good and give me a view of your thong without your shorts in the way, you'll see more, too," he teased, half unsure by my silence.
I laughed," I'll strip for you, if you strip for me."
"So I take it, you're impressed?" he asked, a grin replacing the brief shyness that had been in his tone before, a pleased sort of tone now, like that of a peacock puffing up his chest and spreading the fan of his pretty tail.
"Let's just say that I'd flick on the lights myself," I replied, amused by his easy arrogance.
"Yes," he joked," Way to make me feel like I'm in high school again. Nervous about what a girl has to say."
"I think you were born with an ego, love," I teased back," Now, let me see that tattoo."
"Bossy little bitch," he laughed, but acquiesced," Just a sec, babe."
"Just one?" I echoed, but could tell he had already pulled the phone from his ear, could hear the soft click of a photo being taken and then a second later, hear the ping of a message in my in-box.
I opened it, no longer peeking through my fingers, and was infinitely pleased again, seeing a shirtless, muscular torso. His shoulders were broad, just as I remembered, and his chest was smooth, marked only by the fierce image of an ink saber tooth tiger, and tight nipples. His arms were muscular like someone who worked construction, a large hand hooked into the waist of his dark jeans. I followed the dark, well-groomed line of hair up his flat stomach, remembering the way his muscles had jumped beneath my cool fingertips, to his belly button, past his tattoo, noticing the grin on his face for the first time.
After my long perusal, I couldn't trust myself with compliments, for fear of embarrassing myself, and giving him too big of a head, instead simply telling him," My turn."
After slipping off my silky top, I shook out my hair, black and wavy, leaning into the mirror, my generous cleavage on display, the pale skin of my breasts in contrast to the dark purple bra and the black lace trim. I couldn't help but notice the way my eyes, once bright and light, were now darkened with arousal, smoldering in the way that "bedroom eyes", as Lacey, my ex, used to call them, always do. My smile was small, almost a smirk, a promise on my full lips, a reminder of what they could do to him. I snapped the picture and sent it, not wanting to make him wait any longer.
And after telling him to hang on just a little longer, I slipped my hands behind myself, unclasping my bra, and set it to the side, with my shirt. I cupped my breasts, as though to offer myself to him, my nipples peeking out from my slender fingers, rosy little buttons. I blew another kiss to him, just as the timed camera setting went off, and sent that picture as well, sitting on the edge of the bed, half naked, as I put the phone back to my ear.
"Gorgeous, absolutely stunning, Opal," he said, the teasing jokes gone for the moment, replaced by attraction and arousal, as need and passion had replaced it that night.
"Your jeans, Damon," I said quietly, hiding the way his words affected me, the tone in which he said them, the way I was blushing now, pleased, instead continuing," Take them off. And your boxers. I want to see your cock, see how hard I make you."
I could hear his slightly strangled groan before he left me to take another photo, and smiled at the way I turned him on. As I waited, phone pressed between my ear and shoulder, I unbuttoned and unzipped my shorts, letting them fall down my long, slender legs. I bent over in the mirror again, ignoring the ping of his text, and spreading my legs a little, I took a picture from between my thighs. My puffy cunt was pressed tight against the smooth, already slightly damp fabric of my underwear, and for another picture, I pulled them to the side, letting him get a peek at my wet folds.
I opened his after my little photo shoot, just a slight longer pause than there should have been, and couldn't help when a gaspy, little," Oh fuck," escaped, and then I said in a less strangled voice," I'm not sure I've ever said this before, but you have a beautiful cock. A beautiful body, all together, honestly."
I guesstimated that it was a nice seven, maybe seven and a half inches, not porn star material, but a naturally large length, thick, with a pearl of pre-cum gathering on the tip. Just looking at it made my nipples tighten and ache, my pussy get a little wetter. His dark hair was trimmed and light around his cock, his heavy balls shaved smooth and his thighs, muscular like the rest of him, were only dusted with more dark, soft hair.
"Fuck, I want to taste you," I added, just a second later.
He chuckled," Yeah? Eager to get on your knees and wraps those pretty little lips around my cock? Let me fuck that sweet face of yours, deep in your throat?"
"Eager to have you in each of my holes," I corrected him, and as I sent him the pictures I had taken, I added," Especially this one again."
Again, there was a strangled groan as he viewed my body, and then I heard his soft voice," I want those gone. I want to see your fingers in your juicy cunt, touching yourself for me as I'm stroking myself for you right now. And I want to hear it; put your phone on speaker. I want to hear you moan when you slip your little fingers in that tight fuck-hole."
So, biting my lip at his words, I switched it to speaker phone as he told me to, and slipped my thong down my legs, not bothering to step out of it as it pooled around my delicate feet. I bent over, my thighs spread a little, and reaching back, I spread my ass further apart, giving him a great view. Timed, the camera clicked off a photo. Ignoring it, my other hand finding my hot cunt, two slender fingers slipping inside it, my moan louder than the soft, gaspy ones at his words.
"Ah fuck," I whispered, just as my phone took another photo of my indecent pose.
I took a moment to send those two, and was rewarded with his groan, the sound of his hand on his throbbing shaft, and then a picture of him stroking it.
"Taste yourself for me, babe," he ordered," Tell me how you taste. Are you as sweet as you were that night? Do you remember tasting yourself for me, sucking my finger like an eager little whore? Hm?"
"Oh, Jesus, Damon," I moaned, and answered his question after obediently tasting my juices, my hand slipping down to squeeze my tit, relieve some of the ache," You're missing out, doll. You should be here to eat me."
"Yeah, you'd like to sit your sweet little ass on my face, wouldn't you?" he asked, the faint sound of his hand on his cock coming through.
"Anything to get some relief. You have me so damn wet," I moaned again, honestly driven crazy by his husky words, the indecency of this all, the pictures... oh fuck, I was already so turned on, so easily the situation did this to me.
"I want to hear you cum," he said, voice strained but serious," I want to hear those fingers in your cunt, fucking yourself, wishing it was my dick. And I want to hear my name escape your lips when you finally orgasm."
I gasped slightly, his words making my nipples tighten, nerve endings sparking deep in my tummy, pleasure shooting to my clit. I was so sensitive.
"But first," he continued just a moment later," You're going to ignore that wet hole for just a moment. I know your tits must ache, hm?"
"Yes," I murmured my answer, sitting on the floor, my back against the mirror, my phone in between my thighs, somehow complacent with his demands, perhaps knowing it would be better if I did as he said.
"Touch them for me, love," he said," Squeeze them, pinch your rosy little nipples, tug on them like I did that night, imagine it being my hands, my lips, my tongue."
"Are you imagining it's my hand on your cock instead?" I asked, only half concerned with the actual answer as I touched myself for him.
"How would you touch me?" he asked, listening to my moans intently.
I paused only a second, imagining kneeling in front of him, wrapping my hand around his thick length, my eyes on his as my thumb rubbed that pearl of pre-cum around the tip of his pretty cock. And as he moaned, I would give it a kiss, tongue flicking out to taste him. So I told him exactly that, enjoying his slight moan.
"Fuck, you little slut," he whispered," Would you swallow?"
"Are you going to let me touch my cunt?" I countered.
"Fuck, yeah, babe, go for it," he answered.
"Then of course I would swallow," I said, a smile playing at my lips, and then a moan escaped when I finally touched myself again," Ah, god."
"Ask me to cum," he demanded, his own groan softening his tone.
"Please, Damon," I moaned, the wet sounds of my fingers moving in and out clear over the phone," Please let me cum. I need this, so fucking much."
He murmured,"Do you want me to cum, too?"
"Ah fuck, Damon, stop being an ass. You know I want your cum, want you to fill me like you did that day... or even on my face and tits. Cum for me, too," I told him, frustrated, feeling my orgasm just over the edge, but for some reason waiting for this half stranger to permit me.
"Cum for me, Opal," he said simply.
And like that, I felt myself go over the edge, moaning more as my juices spilled, a small wet stain gathering beneath me, my cunt clenching around my fingers. I could hear him, too, the guttural groan signaling his own release.
A moments after wards, breathless, I murmured," Wow."
"Was it good?" he asked, an amused smile in his voice.
"Amazing. And for you?" I asked, feeling shy.
"Amazing, thanks," he said and then," Ah shit."
"My fucking phone," he muttered," All over the god damn screen."
I laughed," Go clean up. I'm gonna take a shower and then get some rest. Call me."