by Imy Santiago
“You ready?” I ask Jackson, dying to grab something to eat, and to shower. After today’s exertions, I’m feeling less than fresh.
“Yeah,” he smiles, and wraps his arm around my shoulder as we leave the studio. “You okay there, Cat? You look off . . .”
I shake my head and return his smile. “Yeah, I’m just tired. I’m worried about walking tomorrow. Going up and down the stairs? I’m shuddering at the thought.”
“Yeah, you’ll be hurting like a bitch tomorrow. Kathryn knows how to manage these things, though, so tomorrow it will be lines, making sure your arm and hand placements are fluid and stuff. You looked great today, Cat. Jupiter’s jaw will fall to the fucking floor when he sees you. The jive is ballsy, toots. I’m proud.”
“Thank you, Jax. It’s a lot of fun, but holy shit! What a workout. Come on, let’s get takeout. I need to eat, shower, and get in bed.”
Jackson smiles and then nods. “Agreed!”
After grabbing food from a local joint and enjoying dinner in front of the TV, I excuse myself for the evening. After a long hot shower I dress in my favorite t-shirt and panties, and crawl into bed. I don’t even bother to turn on the television. As my eyelids grow heavy, my phone begins ringing to the sound of Amos Lee’s “Violin.” I sit up in bed, and in a groggy voice I answer,
“Hello?”
The rich timbre of Stryder’s voice floods the line, making my insides heat with a yearning I never thought possible. “Hi, baby.”
A few yawns escape my mouth. “It’s so nice to hear your voice, Stud.”
“You sound demolished. I’ll let you go, baby. You need your rest.”
“NO!” I half-whine, half-yell. He laughs, and I try to compose myself. There’s a lulling ache in my insides that is getting deliciously worse with each passing second. I swear, even the sound of his breathing is enough to make me want to climb into the phone and kiss the hell out of him. “Don’t hang up. I want to hear your voice . . .”
“Catalina, are you hot and bothered right now?” Stryder asks wickedly, and my nipples harden at the bluntness of his words.
“Yes,” I breathe, and run my fingers through my hair.
“I want to kiss every square inch of your body . . . starting from your forehead, all the way down to the tips of your toes.” His words make me melt against the blankets.
I exhale loudly, “Oh, God.”
“After I’m done kissing your body, I’ll let my fingers explore the softness of your skin; grabbing here, scratching there . . . marking you with my need.”
“What else . . . ?” I challenge, my fingers stroking the length of my neck.
“After I’m done tasting your amazing mouth, I’ll kiss your incredible breasts, nipping and teasing your nipples with my tongue, and when I’m done I’ll squeeze them softly because I know you like when I do that.”
With my right index finger, I trace circles around the hardened nipple poking through my t-shirt. My body shudders in response, and a satisfied sigh escapes my lips. Through the phone I hear a rustling sound followed by a sensual groan.
“Are you touching yourself, Catalina?” Stryder purrs. My legs involuntarily buckle against the bed, and I tuck my fingers underneath the hem of my shirt. As soon as they make contact with the sweltering skin of my abdomen, I moan.
“Yes,” I whisper, both mortified and excited.
“Good, baby. By now your pussy is aching for some attention, am I right?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“I’m kissing and licking your hipbone. Your skin is so soft to the touch, Cat,” Stryder mumbles, and I close my eyes imagining my hands tangled in his obsidian hair, and his hazel eyes occasionally rising to meet my own lust-filled ones. “Take your panties off,” he commands, and the pang of my need for him makes me comply in double-time. “As soon as I hang up, get off the bed, and wait for my call in the bathroom,” he commands gruffly.
And just like that, the line goes dead. Feeling adventurous, I do exactly as I’m asked. As I walk into the bathroom, I feel a breeze tickling my bare bottom. Stryder only asked me to take off my panties, and while pacing on the bamboo flooring of the en-suite bathroom, I debate whether or not to take off my black t-shirt as well. My cell rings, and I gasp at the request blinking on the screen.
Stryder Martynus would like to Video Chat. Swipe to answer.
With trembling fingers, I accept, and Stryder’s gorgeous face appears on the screen.
His skin is tanner than I’ve ever seen it, and it suits him incredibly well. His eyes twinkle and when I look closely, they are full of heat and mischief.
“Hi!” I squeak.
“Hey, you,” Stryder greets me, his voice deep and seductive. “Now, where were we?”
I swallow hard, confident my cheeks are the color of my favorite lipstick: fire engine red. “Panties off,” I reply quickly, and cover my face with my free hand.
His chuckles are music to my ears; I uncover my face but keep my eyes closed.
“Open your eyes, Catalina.” When I do, I see his panty-combusting smile filling the screen. “Let’s save the pleasantries for later. Climb into the bathtub.” With a furrowed brow and an embarrassed smile, I do as I’m told. Once settled in the bathtub, I grab a fluffy towel to use as a headrest.
“Put your phone near the faucet to where I can see all of you laying down in the bathtub.” I reach forward and position my phone at the perfect angle. “Now stand up and take your t-shirt off.”
My body is humming with anticipation. I rest my phone on the ledge of the waterworks station, and when I have it where I want it, I stand. As I’m taking off my t-shirt, Stryder groans loudly. Throwing my shirt on the floor, I sit down in the bathtub and frown at the screen. “What’s wrong?”
Stryder smiles. His eyes are small, his upper teeth continuously grazing his bottom lip. “You stood up and your amazing pussy was smack-dab in front of the camera. If I was there right now, I’d lick you without restraint or care. I want to taste your wetness, have it dribble down my chin, and feel your-not-so-delicate clenches as you come in my mouth.”
I inhale sharply, and close my eyes at his words. My core tightens, and my legs involuntarily sag with each consonant and vowel dripping from his naughty mouth. I reopen my eyes, and they widen when I see him laying on his back on what I presume is a couch. One of his hands is wrapped around his hard cock, stroking it gently, and the other is cupping his teardrop shaped balls. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve seen in weeks. My body aches with his absence; this is the most I’ve missed him since he went away.
“What are you thinking about, Catalina. You’re awfully quiet.”
“I miss you now more than ever, Stryder. I want you here doing all those things you say you want to do, and there’s nothing I’d like more than to reciprocate,” I half-moan, half-whisper.
“If I was there, what would you do to me?”
A part of me feels shy to say this, but fuck it.
“I want to wrap my lips around your cock and suck on it hard. I want to feel your twitches against my tongue, and swallow your taste when you come. I know that won’t be enough for us, so I’ll plant my pussy over your mouth and have you suck my clit until I can’t stand it anymore. And when you’re ready, I want you to sink inside me in one hard, sharp thrust.”
“Fuck . . .” he hisses, his hand stroking his cock faster. “What else, Catalina?”
I let my fingers roam towards my aching, swollen breasts, my fingertips tugging and squeezing my hardened nipples. “I’d ask you to pump into me hard, like my pussy is the last one in the world, and just when you’re about to come I’d like you to pull out. I’ll wrap my tits around your cock and have you come on my chin.”
Stryder stops stroking and sits up on the sofa. Resting both arms on the back of his head, he speaks. “Fuck, Catalina. Of all the things I thought you’d say, that was not what I had in mind.” I sit up in the bathtub and worry my lip. I may have crossed the line. My hands fall to my sides, and the urge
to cover myself is overwhelming.
Stryder continues. “I know I love you, Catalina, but now I love you even more. You’re my perfect match. Don’t shy away from me, baby, and stop thinking too much. I wish I was there to fulfill your desires and make them my own.”
My eyes glisten, and I close them because I’m certainly feeling his absence. There’s nothing I’d like more than to have him hold me right now. Sure, the sexy stuff is nice, but the fulfilling warmth of his loving embrace exceeds sexual urges any day of the week.
“Me too,” I whisper as I open my eyes.
“Don’t get sad on me, Cat. Put your hands back on those round breasts and pretend your hands are mine.”
I quickly comply and touch myself. Feeling an ounce of bravery, I give some instructions of my own. “I want you to stroke that cock for me, Stryder . . . nice and steady.”
He responds quickly, his effortless tugs clearly visible on the screen. The sound of his slapping skin heightens my senses; watching my guy pleasuring himself is one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen. My fingers trail past my breasts, tenderly caressing the barely-there curls beneath my abdomen. I scrape the tender flesh with my fingernails and when my fingertips meet my clit, I can’t help but rub it in endless circles. My breath catches with each movement, and the moment doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Oh, Cat. If you could see yourself the way I do. You . . . look . . . so . . . hot . . . right . . . now . . .” Stryder grumbles in between tugs, his tempo increasing with each syllable.
His words have quite the effect on me. My fingers quickly grow wetter with each movement, and I tilt my hips up to add pressure where my body craves it most. That borderline feeling that what I’m doing is wrong dissipates. I’m lost in the moment, consumed by pleasure and urged by need, and if this is wrong then by God arrest me and lock me up. I’d do the time happily. Despite the great distances separating us, I feel he’s here, loving me with the force of his entire being, and that thought alone is comforting. As our bodies continue to climb towards nirvana, I mumble my warning.
“I’m there . . .”
Stryder sits up a little, his free hand on the back of his neck while the other strokes his length. “Don’t hold back, baby. I’m there too.”
Just two more brushes of my fingers and I fall apart with him bearing witness. With my eyes closed and my pelvis tilted against the cold porcelain bathtub I cry my pleasure, my voice hoarse and my mouth feeling parched. As I come down from my high, I open my eyes to see Stryder fall apart by the grace of his own hand. With rapid breaths, I sit up in the tub to get a better view of this moment.
Unlike me, he usually doesn’t make much noise, and when we’re together he groans his release into the curve my neck. But tonight he comes loud and hard, his whole body quaking. I can see the rippling effect of his shudders across his sun-kissed skin, his muscles and well-defined lines up front and center for my viewing pleasure. The first thick spurt of his essence lands on his abdominal muscles, and more follow. I watch in awe, my eyes moving upwards to his face. He looks relaxed, yet his eyes are somber−a mirror image of how I feel on the inside.
Yes, instant gratification feels good, but the emptiness that follows can be overwhelming. It’s a fleeting moment of pleasure that morphs into severe loneliness and frustration, and I can tell with a glance that he agrees. I give him a moment to come down from his high before I step out of the bathtub to wash my hands. We exchange no words, just the sounds of our movements echoing in our respective rooms. Dressed and washed up, I pick up my phone and take it with me to bed. I turn on the bedside lamp, and curl underneath the blanket. It’s been several minutes of silence between us, and quite frankly it’s deafening.
“I miss you, Stud,” I mumble, as my free hand tucks a wayward curl behind my ear.
“I miss you too, Catalina. So damn much it hurts,” Stryder replies quietly. I wish I could hug him.
“Did you- did you enjoy yourself?”
Stryder looks into the camera and shrugs. “Nothing compares to you, baby. Not even my hand. I just . . . fuck. I miss you.”
Tears pool in my eyes and when I nod, they slip past my cheeks. I wipe them away, and with a quivering lip, I whisper, “I know exactly how you feel. It’s a second of happiness followed by days of longing and desperation. I get it because I feel it too.”
He clears his throat, and despite the somber moment, he moves the conversation forward. “It looks like you keep losing weight, Catalina. What have you been up to?”
I straighten on the bed and worry my lip. What do I tell him? I don’t want to lie, but I don’t want to spoil a surprise either. “Nothing really . . . I joined a studio,” I answer as vaguely as I possibly can.
“Working out? I guess my little adrenaline junkie needed an alternative until Jax gets better, huh?” he teases with a smile.
I nod, and exhale in relief because for now, at least, my little secret is safe. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”
We chat about his assignment and Jackson’s progress until I start to yawn. Having Stryder in a different time zone, seventeen hours ahead, can be tricky for both of us, but after today’s dance lessons and our naughty cyber tryst I’m beyond exhausted.
“I’m so exhausted. I’m going to hang up. Can we video chat tomorrow?” I ask, yawning.
“Yes, but you’re not hanging up on me. I haven’t seen you fall asleep in weeks. Please.” He urges and lies on his side not once breaking eye contact through the screen.
“Okay, Stud.”
Placing my cell on the nightstand I see through the screen he does the same. Looking at his handsome features, and hugging my pillow a little too tightly, my eyes begin to close.
“Sweet dreams, Catalina. I love you,” He whispers sweetly.
“I love you too, Stud,” I mumble. In matter of seconds, I’m asleep with a smile on my face.
THREE WEEKS.
It’s been three weeks of pure hell. After my break up with Olivia, I learned to embrace assignments like these- the kind that keep me away from home for weeks at a time. That was before I met the woman of my dreams, way before I gave my heart away for the second time in my life. Now I want to kick myself in the ass for accepting this assignment. The clock hands move agonizingly slowly and the time difference takes some getting used to. It’s been three weeks since I left Catalina in Casper with Jax, and the news I received today is seriously depressing. I have to spend yet another week here in Australia. I don’t know how I’m going to break the news to her.
I worry she’ll be upset because her forced vacation for Xsports is coming to an end. Staying another week here means less time we’ll have together before she returns to New York City. My experience in Australia has been nice, all things considered. The weather is warm, and spending the majority of my days on the sandy beaches watching surfers from around the world compete hasn’t been bad. My tan is ridiculous to say the least. Last time I video chatted with Catalina she kept giving me that sexy stare, and her gawking didn’t go unnoticed. I love it when she looks at me like that.
When the days are short and the nights are long, I lie back in bed and replay in my head our cyber rendezvous from a few nights ago. It was the craziest thing I’ve ever done with a woman before. Catalina has her shy moments, but when she stops over-thinking? Holy shit. My lady is sexy as hell. The way she commanded me to stroke my dick, and how she came during that call has kept my imagination, hand, and dick extremely busy. I really wanted to get on the first flight out just to taste her.
Physically missing Catalina is something I haven’t gotten used to. There are mornings when I wake up and my wood is so uncomfortable it reminds me of the movie “The 40 Year-Old Virgin.” If anything, my sexual appetite has increased since I’ve been away, and I’m thankful for the days I’m too exhausted to think about it.
This assignment has put many things in perspective for me, and I’m surer than ever Catalina is the woman I want to be with. I just hate that our reunion will now happ
en in two weeks instead of one. At least having an extra week here means I get to finalize our vacation plans. I hate to disappoint her with the news of the assignment extension, but I also know she won’t throw a fit like Olivia did when I had to break similar news to her. I’m so thankful for that. I pick up my phone and glance at the time. She’s probably sleeping. I hate to do this via text message, but I really don’t have a choice. The sooner she knows the better.
As I place my cell in my pocket I see the evening sun from the balcony of my suite. I haven’t had much of an opportunity to visit to that jewelry store with the cute blue boxes. It might be considered cliché, but I really want to buy Catalina a gift from there- hopefully something she’ll wear forever. Grabbing my access keycard I leave the suite and walk the couple of blocks to the jewelry store.
I stop by the gallery windows to admire the incredible jewelry on display. My heart is whacking furiously in my chest. It’s a healthy mix of holy shit, and what the hell are you doing. I suddenly feel queasy and there’s a beading of cold sweat covering my brow probably due to the humidity I tell myself unconvincingly. I’m confident I look like a lunatic pacing back and forth in front of the store. It’s balls to the walls or nothing. Taking a deep breath, I open the glass door and slip in. I’m greeted by a woman who reminds me of Kaelan. Her smile instantly calms me.
“G’evening,” the cheery shopkeeper greets me. “Are you here for y’self or shopping’ for your lady?”
I chuckle, and extend my hand, making sure to look at her nametag. “Stryder Martynus. Pleased to meet you, Louise. I’m here to look at engagement rings.”
“Ah, an American . . . Are you here on holiday?”