Beg Me Through the Phone

Transcript

You have one new message. To play this message, please press 1. Hey, it's me.

I'm finally home. I went to some new place downtown after work. Total bust.

They had this contrived old-money aesthetic going. You know, the style shorthand for when being rich had even fewer consequences. Fuck, is it really 3 30 in the morning? And no wonder you didn't answer the phone.

You're probably dead asleep. Unless you're not. Always a possibility for you.

I am. I got your note. I promise I wasn't ignoring you.

I just didn't know how to respond right away. Fuck, what do you want from me, babe? I'm supposed to go out on this unknown fucking limb, just bent over and show-all in the hopes that nothing goes terribly wrong?

It's a little out of step with reality, don't you think? I'm sure it would be delightfully entertaining for you, darling, to watch me trip all over myself until the humiliation or the anxiety kills me, whichever gets there first. It's not so fun and easy for the rest of us to just be vulnerable like that.

I'm sure it would be delightfully entertaining for you to watch me trip all over myself, I'm sure it would be delightfully entertaining for you to watch me trip all over myself, but it's not so fun and easy for the rest of us to actually be vulnerable like that. I'm sorry. I don't mean to rehash this again.

You weren't being unreasonable, and that's not even really what you asked for. You know, when I agreed to the premise of tough love in this relationship, I kind of expected you to just be an asshole to me, not this. I do get it, though.

You just wanted me to be brave enough to trust you enough to be able to really hear me. I don't know, I was just so thrown off by how present you insist on making me be. Like I'm bent over a workbench taking 10-15 licks to my ass and thighs, no problem, but then you want to stop in between sets to rub my back and kiss my face.

It's just so intimate, and like my brain and body were connected for the first time in who knows how long. Fuck, I hated it. Oh, no.

No, I didn't. And that's your whole point, right? I did like it, and I'm allowed to like it, and I need to be willing to express my wants and ask for them directly.

Please accept my apology. I'm sorry for not being able to be there for you. Forgetting my manners and getting out of hand.

Thank you for taking this time to correct me so firmly, even if I couldn't really see the reason for it at the time, even when I was being a petulant little bitch about it. I was annoyed, you know, about that new rule you set, no physical touching unless I tell you exactly what I want from you. Yeah, perfectly designed to drive me insane, by the way, but you knew that when you gave me the rule.

And of course I spent all day and my whole night distracted, thinking about you and the things you do. You know, like when you undress me and you touch me ever so softly. I just love the feeling of your fingertips sweeping over my shoulder.

I just love the feeling of your fingertips sweeping over my shoulders and my waist, pressing into my hips. Especially when you're taking your time undressing me one article of clothing at a time. It's like you pull pure electricity over my skin with every pass.

Being under a microscope, but I don't want you to stop examining me. Even when you make me stand there in the middle of a room in just a shirt and socks, still look at me. One of these days, um, can I please undress you, too? I always love watching you strip down from head to toe, so slow and intentional and deliberate it makes my heart race.

My fingers ache. You're so beautiful, I, I can't help myself when I look at you. The span of your shoulders, the way the light catches your skin, I just have to run my hands over your chest and your belly.

And it makes me crazy when you won't look at me, when you make me earn it. God, it makes me so hungry for you. Every fucking second without your eyes on me.

That's why I like it when you, uh, use my mouth to, uh, get off before you let me get fully undressed. God, I just want to impress you, and that's why I always let you make me feel like I'm a mess of my clothes and my lips and my hands. You sound so beautiful when you come all over my mouth.

I'm just always so wet for you after. Your fingers alone would be more than enough to meld me completely. And does it gratify you to watch me endure and pray for just a glance from you? Fuck, I wish you'd answer the phone.

At least then I might be able to convince you to let me touch myself. That my own fingers can only do so much. It seems like no matter how deep my toys go and no matter how fast and graceful my own fingers are, it's never enough.

It's never as good as you. Fuck, I sound so desperate. I swore I wouldn't touch you.

Fuck, I sound so desperate. I swore I wouldn't get like this, but I can't help it. I just want to follow directions like a good girl.

Like your good girl. You wanted me to predict how you'd respond, right? Well, you'll probably call me back at some random time when I'm least expecting it.

No matter where I am, make me ask you to come over so you can put me on my knees and make me tell you all of this in person. God, that's fucking humiliating. Fuck it, I don't care.

Please call me back. I need to hear your voice. I need you to come over and let me feel the heat of your hands on my body.

Please. I promise I'll be good. I'll be so sweet and so obedient for you.

I just, I'm begging you to come over and handle me. Please, pretty please. I'll be so good, I swear.

Just please come over and let me. End of message. To replay this message, press 5.

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