Playing for Julia

by Annie Carroll

  * * *

  It’s almost 11 o’clock Tuesday night when the phone rings. I take it into the orange phone booth.

  “Hi.” I say.

  “Hi.”

  It is quiet for a moment.

  “I think you should change your clothes, baby. I like buttons. I like unbuttoning buttons. I like seeing what’s underneath when I unbutton buttons. I like other things, too, but right now—just buttons.” There is a smile in his voice.

  Oh, this could be fun—like playing—and it’s only words on the phone and he is almost 300 miles away. I take a deep breath and say sweetly: “I have clothes with buttons. I have a pink blouse with pink buttons up the front.”

  “I remember it.” His voice is cold.

  Ooops. A mistake. He remembers me talking with Mark at the coffeehouse. He’s not happy about it.

  “Has anyone else ever unbuttoned that blouse?”

  “No. Never. Only me.” I hear him exhale.

  “That’s good because I might get too excited and throw you on my bed, and shove that little black skirt up to your hips, and rip your panties off and take you hard and fast.”

  I gasp. A thought flies through my mind—maybe this is not so fun.

  “Oh no, baby, that’s too rough.” His honey voice is back. “I don’t want it rough. I want it slow and gentle. Is that what you want, babygirl?”

  “Yes, Austen. Yes.” I sigh.

  “I’m going to unbutton the top button, and kiss your throat, so softly. Then unbutton the next one, and kiss you again. Then I unbutton the next button and oh, what is this here? A lacey bra and two beautiful breasts. Then I unbutton the rest of the buttons on the blouse and slide it off you. Julia, you look so beautiful this way.”

  His breathing is shallow. So is mine. I am mesmerized by his voice.

  “Then I am going to kiss the tops of your breasts and take that bra off. Do you want me to do this, babygirl?”

  “Yes.” My answer is more of a breath, a murmur full of longing.

  “Oh, I have your bra off and I am holding your breasts in my hands. And then I am kissing them and running my tongue around your nipples and they are so hard. I know you love the way this feels, don’t you? You want more, don’t you?

  “Yes.” I whisper urgently.

  “Oh, babygirl, I can do so much more with you. And you are going to love it. I know—“

  I hear the squeak of the front gate. Ali and Drew are here.

  “Oh, no. Austen, I just heard Ali at the front gate.”

  “Still have your early warning system in place—huh?” He laughs. “Well, I guess this evening will have to be continued… Good night Julia. Sweet Dreams. Dream of me.”

  “Dream of me,” I answer. I hang up and hurry upstairs and slip into my flannel pajamas. It is so cold here I have to wear winter pj’s in summer.

  When Ali comes up the stairs later I pretend that I am asleep. I want to ask her about her relationship with Drew—but not tonight. I want to go to sleep with Austen’s voice in my mind. And deep down, I admit to myself that I’d rather go to sleep with Austen in my bed.

  When the phone rings Wednesday evening I take it to the orange phone booth.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi baby.”

  “How are things going down there?”

  “Okay. No, not okay. That damn fool Tommy is barely functioning. Didn’t make it to rehearsals until late and was totally wasted. All he cares about is what bimbo he is screwing this week. And when John and I talked with Joe he showed us the latest sales figures and Tommy has really made a difference. Sales of that album are up—way up from the last one. Shit. Joe said to leave Tommy to his partying and only get together when we have to. Good advice, I guess, but maybe Joe is protecting his own bank account. Hell. I don’t know.”

  I know there is not one thing I could say that would make a drop of difference about Tommy and the band.

  “Austen,” I say sweetly. “I changed my clothes today. I am wearing jeans and a new peachy pink lacey bra. It’s from France. You can see right through it. I think you’ll like it.”

  He laughs. “I am so glad I met you, Julia.” The tone of the phone call changes immediately. His honey voice is back.

  “What color are your jeans, baby?”

  “They’re blue.” I answer softly.

  “You should think about white jeans one of these days.”

  “I will.”

  We both take deep breaths.

  “Now I am going to kiss your sweet nipples right through that pretty bra you’re wearing. Oh, I can feel your nipples get very hard. I know you want me, don’t you, babygirl?”

  “Yes.” I whisper.

  “Should I take off that bra now? Is that what you want?” His honey voice is so seductive.

  “Yes. Take it off.” I sigh, wishing it were real and not just words.

  “Oh, this feels so good. Your skin is so soft, Julia. So soft. I rub my thumbs around your nipples and I know you can feel it all the way down inside your body. I can feel it in mine. And then I run my tongue around your breasts and my body really loves this. Can you feel it, too, babygirl?”

  “Yes.” I murmur. My breathing is ragged.

  “Oh god, I want so much more of you. So I am going to kiss your sweet breasts and then kiss you right down to your jeans. And then I’m going to kiss you, slowly, slowly, all the way around the top of your jeans. I can do more. Do you want more?”

  “Yes…more...” I sigh.

  He pauses for a moment.

  “I am going to slip a finger inside your waistband and undo the snap and pull the zipper down just a little bit. And then pull your jeans down a little. And kiss you on your soft little belly button. Then pull your jeans down more until I see some little pink panties. I love the way they feel. So silky. Babygirl, you smell so good.”

  He pauses again.

  “Then I am going to run my hand down to that hot pink rose between your legs. It feels soft, baby. You’re so warm and juicy.”

  I can’t say a thing. I am curled up, my head in my knees, the phone pressed against my ear. I am utterly frozen by his voice. My body is shrieking with desire for him. I want to be in his bed. I want to feel his hands on me. I want to feel his mouth on me. I want him inside me.

  “Babygirl, are you still with me?”

  “Oh god, Austen, you are killing me. I can’t take anymore,” I gasp. “Why are you in L.A instead of here?”

  “What would you do if I were there?” He is smiling; I can tell.

  “I’d lock Ali out of the house and take you upstairs and we would make love all night. All night, Austen, all night.”

  He laughs softly. “I have something better than that planned for you, Julia. Come away with me this weekend, baby.”

  I have only one answer: “Yes.”

  “Sweet Dreams, Julia. Dream of me.”

  “Dream of me,” I whisper.

  “I always do, babygirl. Goodnight.” He leaves me stunned, breathless.

  Chapter Nine

  Friday at noon I race off to Macy’s and buy white jeans. Snug fit. Perfect. Then upstairs to the lingerie department but they don’t have any French bras. The upscale store I. Magnin is at the next corner and, of course, they have beautiful French lingerie. I try on three peachy-pink bras and decide on one of them. It has matching silk panties that are tissue thin and soft. I look at the price tags. Oh my god, I’ll have to live on bread and water for two weeks. I buy them anyway.

  Back at the office my phone rings: “I’ll pick you up at 5 in front of your office.”

  “Okay, but I have to go back to the cottage to pick up some things.”

  * * *

  As we head south out of San Francisco, it is a perfect California summer evening: warm, balmy air, blue sky. The convertible top is down. I have tied a scarf around my head the way Grace Kelly wears one in a movie, so my hair doesn’t whip around me face. I am wearing the white jeans, a black blouse and sandals with thin black straps. Undern
eath, my new bra and panties feel silky.

  The sun has just set when he turns off Pacific Coast Highway and drives up a narrow road toward the hills. I can hear the murmur of the ocean rolling up on a rocky beach not far away. He parks the Mustang outside a rustic country inn. Warm lights shine from within. A few white cottages are scattered around behind it. The air is mild and filled with the fragrances of eucalyptus and pine trees.

  As we go inside, I see that the inn is far more polished than rustic. The dining room adjacent to the reception area has pink linen table cloths, gleaming glassware and flowers on every table. At about half the tables people, mostly couples, are seated, eating dinner.

  Austen picks up the keys from the front desk.

  “Do you want to have dinner? I hear their steaks are good.”

  “No,” I answer, smiling up shyly at him. “I want you.”

  A smile spreads slowly across his face. “Okay.”

  In the room I suddenly lose every drop of confidence I had. He goes over to the window and closes the striped drapes. Then smiles that honey smile at me and walks across the room. He pulls me into his arms and kisses me, softly first, then intensely. I slide my arms around his neck, and run my fingers up into his soft black hair and return his kiss. His tongue searches my mouth. My tongue dances with his. I dissolve into him. Oh, this feels so good. I can feel how hard he is. My body tightens deep down.

  “Oh god, Julia, I want you so much.” His breathing is rapid and raw. “So much.”

  Then we are both stripping off clothes. His hands run over my shoulders and slide the straps of my pink bra down my arms. He kisses me on my throat as he reaches around to unsnap the bra. He drops my bra on the floor. My hands are shaking as I unbutton his shirt and pull it off him. It falls to the floor. He tugs at the zipper on my jeans.

  He tilts my chin up and kisses me again. I know he can feel my bare breasts brushing against his chest. I can barely breathe. His hands are on my breasts again, caressing them, circling around and around. I feel my body tightening, aching between my legs.

  I try to loosen his belt, but my trembling fingers are too clumsy.

  “I’ll do it, baby.” His voice is thick. He lifts my face to his and kisses me softly. “First take your jeans off. I want to see you just in those panties.”

  I step back and as gracefully as I can unzip my jeans and slide them down over my hips and legs and step out of them. He watches me, desire for me written all over his face, as I stand in the middle of the room wearing pink silk panties and nothing else.

  “Beautiful Julia. So beautiful.”

  He steps out of his shoes, then pulls off his jeans and briefs, looking at me the whole time, our eyes locked to each other. Then he is naked and very erect.

  “Come here, baby.”

  I walk into his arms. Oh yes. Oh yes.

  He tilts my face up to his again and kisses me then picks me up and puts me down on the bed on my back. Our arms circle each other and I feel skin against skin all the way down our bodies. Only a wisp of silk is between us. I surrender to the sensation; I surrender to him.

  He kisses my breasts, then his tongue circles around and around one nipple, tenderly. My nipples get harder. I feel his erection at my hip—he is so hard, like steel. His fingers circle my other nipple. I can feel it deep down in my groin. I run my hands down his back. I love the feel of his skin. He licks my nipples. My hips begin to move up and down slowly. I can’t control it.

  One of his hands glides down my body and slides inside the silk panties. I sigh. I love the feel of his hands on my body.

  “I’ve wanted you for so long, Julia. You feel so good.” His voice is raw with desire.

  I gasp as his hand slides down even further through my pubic hair and I hear a sharp intake of breath from him as his fingers begin to circle me down there. Around and around. Oh god, I never thought I could feel like this.

  “Already so warm. So wet and juicy.”

  My hips move in rhythm to his hand as I become more and more aroused. My body is screaming for him.

  “I want you, Austen. I want you now,” I beg. “Please Austen.”

  “Oh, babygirl, you don’t have to ask.”

  He peels off my panties and tosses them beside the bed. He rolls between my legs and slowly enters me. I gasp, then sigh. His erection stretches me, fills me entirely. Oh yes, this is what I want. Him inside me—it feels so right. Then he eases back, pauses, and into me again.

  I catch my breath at the sensation.

  He is on his elbows, his body pins me down, his face is above mine. His voice is like dark honey. “How does this feel, babygirl? Is this what you want?”

  “Yes,” I whisper, my breathing shallow. “Yes. I want you.”

  “You have me, Julia. I’m yours.”

  He begins to move in and out, slowly at first, then gradually faster and harder. I can feel him deep inside me, filling me. I didn’t know it could feel like this—that it could feel so good. My hips match his thrust for thrust. My pulse speeds up. He goes faster, relentlessly, driving into me again and again and again. Then I lose all sense of anything but the two of us, moving together. Now I know—this is how it should be.

  I know he can hear my shallow breaths, panting, faster. His breathing is heavier and faster as he drives into me over and over. I feel an urgency building inside. My legs are growing stiff. I tilt my hips upward and spread my bent legs even wider. He goes deeper into me again and again.

  “Oh. Oh. Oh.” I gasp. My hips are moving faster and faster. I feel him deep inside and I can feel my orgasm coming and I can’t stop it. I can’t slow it. I can only give into it. He thrusts into me harder.

  “Come for me, babygirl. Come now.”

  I arch my back and convulse, my body tightening inside around him as I climax. I feel like I am shattering into a thousand beams of light. Release—oh yes…it feels so good…oh yes…oh yes…ohh yes. Two more thrusts into me and his body arches and he comes. “Oh Julia,” he gasps and he sinks down onto me.

  I feel his face next to mine on the pillow, his skin smooth and prickly rough. He lifts himself up on his elbows, his body still weighing me down into the mattress, and kisses me lightly on the lips. My legs, my body are limp. I am smiling, my eyes closed. I feel sated. I never knew anything could make my body feel this good.

  “Happy?” He asks in his honey voice. He is still breathing heavily.

  “Very happy.” I open my eyes and smile up at him. I reach up to his face and run my fingers along his cheek. I love the feel of his smooth, pale skin with a stubble of dark whiskers. I kiss him lightly on his lips. We lay quietly like this as our breathing returns to normal.

  Then he pushes his groin into mine. I realize he has not pulled out of me and he is getting harder again.

  “Want more?” He asks, with a devilish smile on his face. His blue eyes twinkle.

  “Now?”

  “Yes, now,” he whispers in my ear. “It’ll be even better, Julia.”

  He pushes deeper into me. Then pulls back just a little. Oh. I am surprised. I feel myself aroused again, wanting more of him again, instantly, by this slight movement. Again, he pushes into me; he is harder this time. I push back softly. Inside, I am super sensitive and responding to his growing erection. Once again, he goes in, pauses, then back. He is even firmer this time.

  Then he begins to move, gradually thrusting into me harder, again and again. My body responds, moving with his. He drives into me over and over. Oh my god, I can feel the tension building deep down inside me so quickly. It is happening so fast and it feels so good. My breathing is ragged. He is breathing deeply and plunging his erection deeper into me.

  “Babygirl, just let it happen.” His voice is dark with emotion. “It’s going to be fast.”

  Once again, I can feel an orgasm coming. My body, my hips move faster, matching him thrust for thrust.

  “Oh god, Austen. Ohh. Ohh.” I gasp as I come. The tension in my body and legs is released explosively
. It is even more powerful than before.

  His climax follows mine in seconds. “Julia, baby,” he gasps as he thrusts deeply into me. Then again, I become aware of the weight of his body on mine, as he clasps the sides of my face, his long fingers in my hair and kisses me tenderly. I am utterly limp. We lay like this, together, as our breathing slows, our hearts slow their rapid pounding.

  “I told you it was going to be good, Julia.” He is smiling again.

  “Better than good. I didn’t know…” And, it’s so true. Until now, I didn’t know sex could be like this and it is wonderful and amazing. He is amazing.

  He pulls out of me and lies by my side. We are still, quiet, smiling at each other.

  “You’re a quiet one. You let your body say it all.” He leans over and kisses me softly.

  Then he sits up. “I still want that steak dinner. I wonder if the kitchen is open.”

  He picks up the phone, calls the front desk and grins at the answer he gets.

  “Get up. Get dressed,” he says to me as he reaches for his jeans.

  “I have to shower. I’m a mess.”

  “Shower later. Get dressed now. We can still have dinner if we get out there right away.”

  I find my peachy-pink bra and silk panties on the floor. When I put them on he stops and looks at me. “Very tempting—but not right now,” he grins.

  My black blouse, tossed onto the floor earlier, is not too wrinkled. I slip into my new white jeans and quickly step into the bathroom to see I how I look. Oh dear—whisker burn, but not too much. I brush my hair and put on some lipstick. This will have to do.

  I discover that I am hungrier than I thought and eat every last bite of the steak. The wine is excellent. Austen tells me about Carmel and how it has been an artists’ haven for decades. We’ll go see the village tomorrow, sometime.