Page 8 of Alonzo

The handwashing ceases. But I’m in luck. The bathroom has air dryers. And our unsuspecting voyeur gives Tara another chance to spill dirty things in my ears.

“I’d let you fuck me hard, Lonnie. Bang me up against the door. And then, after I came all over your dick, I’d slide down onto my knees, take you into my mouth, and deepthroat you until I gagged on your come.”

“Fuuuuck.”

Now this is my sweet sunshine in her element.

“I wouldn’t let you kneel on that filthy floor, Tara. I’d just bend you over and bang you from behind. Then… when we got home, then I’d let you suck me off and grant your wish to choke on my come.”

Her mouth grimaces, a sideways half-smile, half-look of ecstasy or maybe pain. “Oh, shit!” She’s not whispering now. “Oh, shit. Oh, fuck!”

“Excuse me?”

I almost laugh. The bookworm is still in the bathroom!

“Oh, my God.” Tara is even louder now. “Holy motherfucking—”

“Are you OK?”

“Shiiiit! I’m coming! I’m coming Lonnie! Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Come. Come with me! Now! Right now!”

“Ma’am? What are you doing? Is there someone in there with you?”

And that’s it for me.

I gush.

A hot stream of semen shoots up and splatters against my t-shirt. The rest just pours out like lava. Like we didn’t just phone-sex last night. Like maybe I’ve never had a real orgasm in my life, that’s how much pent-up sexual frustration spills out of me now.

I lean back. Sigh.

She leans back. Giggles.

Then she does that thing she does. It kills me every time we cam.

She brings her fingers up to her mouth and sucks them. No inhibitions at all.

She makes a kissy face at me, then ends the call.

I lean even further down into the couch cushions. Close my eyes. And smile.

Didn’t quite tell her all the things I wanted to.

But eh… fuck it. There’s always tonight.

CHAPTER TWO - TARA

“And… we’re out.”

“I cannot believe you just made me do that.”

I adjust my panties and skirt, then bang the door open to a waiting Belinda. “What? I need to keep him interested. He’s so fucking easy. And when he wants to, he can dirty-talk like a motherfucker.”

Belinda crosses her arms and leans against the counter as I wash my hands and smile at myself in the mirror. “No one is that good. I mean… can’t you just find a real man?”

“He’s real. You heard him.”

“I love that part about the earbuds, by the way.” She guffaws. Because while I did make a big production of taking them out, I did not plug them in to the phone. Belinda heard every damn word. “He’s so considerate. But come on, this is very dysfunctional. You don’t need some nerdy accountant two thousand miles away. Pretty much everyone in the shop wants to date you.”