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ILY.

ILY.

ILY.

TWITTER: @lovethedinklage

*****

SHERRY

"I know how to help you without actually helping you. If that makes any sense," I explain.

"How?"

"Phonesex."

*****

SHERRY

With the both of us being knuckleheads, there is much debate concerning logistics.

The first issue is the external catheter. Initially, catheterization was necessary until the sedation wore off from the hospital stay. Now it's a matter of convenience as they decided to continue catheter use until his broken arm fully heals. Harry says since he's able to tell when he has to urinate that he wants to quit using a catheter anyway. It's not a medical necessity, so I'm willing to let Harry decide how he wants to handle it. Plus, a new one can be put on easily should he change his mind.

The second issue is regarding timing. I want to wait until the phonesex happens organically. I feel there will be less pressure on the both of us if it's spontaneous. Am I ready to have phonesex with Harry? On a selfish note: hell yes. I can't wait until his cast's off so he can hold me with one hand and finger-fuck me within an inch of my life with the other. The fact that I'm over-thinking this is not lost on me. It's because I don't want to do anything that could possibly cause him further pain. If we do the phone thing and it doesn't pan out in a way that he finds acceptable, he'll be upset, alone, and without anyone to comfort him. However, Harry doesn't want to wait it out and is ready to get the show on the road. Like, yesterday.

"You said it could take a few tries to make it work. Can't one of those tries be today?" He pouts. I resolve not to let the sexiness of his full lips influence my decision.

Reaching an impasse, we leave it to fate in a coin toss. Que sera, sera.

"May the odds be ever in my favor," I say, flipping the quarter in the air.

"That's not the line, Sherry," Harry grins. He calls heads, and I'm en route to the guest room with my cell phone.

Fuck.

*****

The phone rings and my stomach does this swooshy teen-age flippy thing.

I try to sound nonchalant when I answer. "Hello?"

The smile in Harry's voice is evident. "Hi, baby." I wish I weren't so nervous.

"Hi." I hate when I get freaky situational shyness. It's rare, but it happens.

"Umm...we already exchanged salutations, love."

His reminder is gentle, yet I'm slayed by the sound of his voice. It's deep, ripe, and luscious. I imagine how his lips would wrap around the word salutations, slowly and clearly forming each syllable before it's released into the universe in a triumph of sight and sound. I don't know what to say.

"Sher-ry . . ." There's a soft teasing tone in the sing-song humminess of my name.

"Yeah." My voice is a whisper.

"What are you doing?" Seriously. What am I doing?

"I'm thinking about how your lips probably looked when you said salutations." There. I confess.

There's a faint gasp on the line, and Harry's voice is the quieter one now. "Really?" He speaks in disbelief.

"Yeah. Really." I imagine his lips wrapped around things other than words.

"Uh... so how did my lips look in your imagination?" Swollen and wet with my arousal.

"Sexy." My voice is even quieter than before.

There's a pause. And a breath. "You think my lips are sexy?"

The words tumble from my mouth before I have a chance to stop them, "God, yes."

"I like that." Harry hesitates. "There are a few things I'd like to do to you with my sexy lips."

Whoa. This conversation is obviously beyond my control. "Tell me?"

"Are you in the bed?"

"Yeah. Under the duvet."

"Did you take your clothes off, baby?" His voice fluctuates from a hint of cockiness to the occasional bit of insecurity, and it's a delicate, magical balance.

"Just my shoes and my jeans."

"Will you do something for me?" Possibly. Anything.

"May-be."

"Take off the rest of your clothes? I want to know you're naked for me over there." A seriousness in his voice makes me obey and my clothes become a distant pile of memories at the end of the bed.

"Harry?"

"Did you take everything off?"

I'm warm all over, but I still snuggle down a little deeper beneath the duvet. "Yeah."

"Talk to me, Sherry. Tell me what you want. What you'd do. Tell me what you're doing right now." My fingers wander lazily across my stomach, and while I try to fool myself into thinking they're following a random pattern, it soon becomes clear to me that they're heading in only one direction . . . south.

"Harry . . . ," my voice is already a whimper and I haven't even touched myself. "Your voice is so sexy."

"Yeah? Do you like it when I talk to you like this?" I hold my thighs together tightly, but the warmth in his voice causes my legs to fall open without my consent.

My cheek turns into the pillow as my hand easily slides between my thighs. "Mhmm."

"I knew you were a dirty girl." I wonder if he knows what I'm doing. Or if I should tell him.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. I mean, I kinda hoped you were . . . can I tell you something?"

"Mhmm?"

"That night at the party, in the closet? When you were blindfolded and I was feeding you Airheads?"

"Yeah?"

"I imagined I was pushing my cock into your mouth so many times, baby."

I almost choke on my own breaths as the wet folds of my pussy welcome my fingertips. Keep talking, Harry.

Harry's voice is raw and breathy when I don't respond right away, "Sherry?"

I don't even try to hide from him anymore, and I allow my breathing to become more audible. Even though I'm too chicken to say it, I want him to know what he does to me. "Hmm?"

There is a faint rustling from his side, "Would you have liked that?"

"Yes. I bet you taste better than candy, Harry." Hell, the idea of him is better than candy.

"You think?" There is a slight rasp to his voice and I wonder how he's doing over there.

"Yeah. You should have done it, Harry. Put your cock in my mouth instead."

I really don't know how I would have responded at the time, but sometimes I say crazy things in the midst of sex that are hot as all get-out in fantasy-land, but I'd never actually do them in real-life.

"Sherry, fuck," Harry's breathing is labored. "Would you have sucked on it?"

"Uh-huh," I continue to touch myself, but I'm holding back at the same time. "I remember you opened the closet door and you weren't wearing a shirt. I thought about what you'd look like if you weren't wearing any pants, either."

"You thought about me naked, baby?" Guilty.

"Yeah," I blush.

"What did you think?"

"About what your legs would look like . . . and how big your cock would be, if it'd be beautiful like the rest of you." I wish I'd put my phone on speaker so I'd have both hands free.

"You'd like to suck my cock, wouldn't you, baby? Fuck, your lips would feel so good wrapped around me . . . I'd be pushing myself to the back of your throat."

"My lips would be so tight on your cock, baby. I'd work you over with my tongue, tasting every inch of you. I wanna make you feel good, Harry. So good."

"Oh, babe. I wanna feel your warm mouth around my dick. Will you do that for me?"

"You won't be able to stop me. I want you so deep in my mouth that my nose presses into your stomach."

"God you're sexy. Don't stop sucking me, baby."

"I won't, baby. Well, maybe for a minute to swipe my tongue around your tip and lick up drops of pre-cum. You taste so good, Harry."

"Sherry, fuck. Baby, c'mere. Come over here."

"I might stop to suck those beautiful balls of yours. I'd have taken the blindfold off long ago so I can see your big dick, baby."

"I want you to see it. Come here and I'll show you how much I want you, babe."

"I am so wet for you, Harry."

"Fuck, babe. Can you come here? Seriously. I want –"

"Stroke yourself and imagine me looking up at you with my mouth full of your cock. I want you to watch me suck you off, baby. Will you watch me?"

"I wanna come in your mouth. Please. Please, come over." The want in his voice is unmistakable, and as much as I want to give in to him, I know I can't.

"Harry, baby, I'm gonna continue to talk you through it, okay? I'm doing the same thing over here. I'm touching my pussy right now and wishing it was you . . . your hand. Your fingers inside of me, feeling how wet I am for you, baby. How much I want you, Harry . . ."

"Sherry . . . I'm . . .fuck, baby." I hear his breathing, a grunt, and a few moans, and I wonder how his face looks in the moment.

I whisper his name softly again and again and again, until he's quiet.