Reckless Part 1

By: Alice Ward

CHAPTER ONE


Phone held between my ear and shoulder, I matched my hitched breaths to the moans coming from my fiancé on the other end of the line. Thankfully, my bathtub scrubbing action helped to mimic the sounds of passion with ease.

“You almost there, baby?” he panted into my ear.

I clenched my lips between my teeth and pushed an “mmhmmm” through my nose.

Years of practice had helped me perfect fake phone sex to a science. Not that he was listening anyway; he was too lost in his impending orgasm. But, listening or not, he’d expect a convincing ending from me quite soon.

“Come with me,” he begged, his breath so heavy, I could almost feel the heat of it through the phone.

My own breath accelerated and I started making little whimpers into the phone. I intentionally increased the intensity, building to what I knew would come off as a convincing climactic finish. But as he came closer and closer to his grand finale, moisture flooded my panties. It made me regret not giving him what he thought he was getting—me, on my bed, touching myself like I used to that first year of college.

That first year, we were like long-distance rabbits. We had phone sex sessions three, sometimes four times a day. We were newly engaged and so crazy in love, but for whatever reason, I’d felt it necessary to go to college halfway across the country. And so we did everything we could to make it work—the hushed conversations late at night, pleasuring ourselves in our respective parts of the country, connected only by a phone line, and flights back and forth as often as we could afford.

For the most part, we’d done rather well at staying connected. But as time went on, I began to miss more than just his touch; I missed the intimacy, the closeness, and late night movies on the couch. Little by little, things started to shift, and each holiday, each summer break we shared, we seemed a little more distant from each other.

With my graduation nearing, I held out hope we would reunite and rekindle the fire again. Pick up where we’d been before I’d moved halfway across the country. Start our new life together, closer than ever. But for now, placating him with phone sex would have to do… even if it was completely staged on my end.

I knew the grand finale was coming when Sean released a few guttural grunts into my ear. Like I had countless times before, I let loose a few climactic screams, trying to sound about as convincing as I could while cleaning my bathroom. I knew he was on the precipice—his groans coming through the phone quick and fevered—when the door to my room opened.

“What the—?” Becca, my roommate asked, frozen in the open doorway, mouth hanging open.

I held my hands up, waving them frantically to tell her to be quiet. As she continued to observe my theatrics, wide-eyed, hands held over her mouth to suppress her laughter, it took everything in me not to giggle at the absurdity of it all.

Thankfully, Sean’s groans had just given way to labored breathing. He was finished, and not a moment too soon. I don’t think I could have held back the laughter bubbling in my throat much longer.

“Mmmm… that was amazing,” I said, as convincingly as I could with my roommate staring at me.

That fake confession ended up being Becca’s undoing; she excused herself out into the dorm hallway, hysterics erupting the second she’d closed the door behind her.

“What was that?” Sean asked, still panting.

“Oh, just some people in the hall,” I lied. “Maybe they heard me.”

“Well, then at least they know you have a man that takes good care of you… even if it is from halfway across the country.” The sadness in his voice sent a twinge of guilt straight to my chest.

“Yes, they most certainly do.” My own sad tone reflected his, but for a completely different reason: I hadn’t been as invested as he had the past few months.

I was pretty sure he’d never faked anything, and here I was, multi-tasking when I should have been connecting with him. He still called daily, but I’d been so caught up in my studies I barely even remembered to text him goodnight anymore. He still sent me adorable emails, letting me know he was thinking of me, and half the time, I couldn’t be bothered to respond. I was shoving him off onto the back burner, so much so that even weekends were off limit for me now; it was a far cry from the impromptu flights across the country to see one another.

“Hey, no sad voice,” he soothed, apparently sensing my sadness. “Just three more months, and this is all over. You’ll be home, we can start planning for the wedding. We’re almost there.”

I would have given almost anything to be able to reach through that phone and hug him right then. He’d always been so wonderfully supportive of my goals and dreams…

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