Phone Sex

So I did what most people would do in my situation and went back to my ex boyfriend, and tried to fuck him. He told me it wasn’t a good idea. I thought that was really obnoxious.

After 17 consecutive nights of drinking I needed to spend a night at home. I never realized how strenuous the “moving on” process would be on my liver. I picked up the phone and called him even though I had absolutely nothing to say to him. I was having a fix for something comfortable and familiar.

I talked to him about the first time we fucked. It was so irrelevant to anything going on in our lives at that moment but talking about it out loud was more fulfilling than any of the bar-bathroom romance I’d had in the past two weeks. I got really graphic. As a recently grad-uated English major I had restrained from using clichés in my vocabulary or on paper in the past five years. This seemed like an appropriate time to cash in, and just use all of them. “My pussy was so wet when you asked me to go home with you” I said. “You fucked me so hard and fast and I came all over your dick so many times.” My words may as well have been plagiarized from a Penthouse Forum in 1986, but they felt damn good to say.

“What are you doing?”

I heard a noise on the other end of the line that sounded kind of like he was cleaning his bathtub and rearranging furniture at the same time.

Oh my god he was jerking off.

I didn’t want him to stop. I wanted him to be so turned on that he’d forget that having sex with me was a really bad idea and jump on the next train and fuck my brains out... but I wasn’t so sure how to make that transition only using the power of cellular technology. I also really wanted to join in but I didn’t know how. My ex and I had done just about everything two human bodies could do to one another in person, but never had we had sex over the phone.

I taunted him and asked him what he was thinking about....  and in fact, it was one of my amazing blowjobs that was arousing him at the moment. I patted myself on the back. Then was just like, fuck it, and I let my guard down and stuck my hands right down my pants.


It turned out to be the most amazing masturbation session I’d had to date. I never knew how much fun you could have with yourself when someone else was listening. For men, masturbation serves as a fine substitution for sex when it just isn’t available... but for women this usually isn’t the case. For me, the physical sensation of it was always titillating, but there was also something lonely and unfulfilling about masturbation. Phone sex opened my eyes to a new way of having good sex without leaving the house, or technically having sex at all.

It was apparent that my ex boyfriend felt the same way about our little phone session as I did. We both became addicted. We did it all the time. Every time I’d see his name on my caller ID I’d  drop whatever it was I was doing and we’d touch the hell out of ourselves. Once, I was having coffee with a friend and I excused myself for a quickie in my car. I even did it in my mom’s bathroom when I went to visit her on her birthday. I was 23 and masturbating like a 12 year old boy, only if someone would have caught me with my hands down my pants and a phone on my ears in a public bathroom, it wouldn’t have been passed off as some endearing sign of maturity. It would have been straight up weird.

It was a Tuesday night and I purposefully didn’t make any plans. I was very much looking forward to curling up into a ball on my bed and making a scandalous phone call... but there a wrench was thrown into my plans; he didn’t pick up the phone. I called a few more times, and then I even tried several times from my house line (he didn’t know the number), and then as a last resort I attempted with a blocked number... But all I got was his stupid voicemail.

Where was he?? I thought. He was supposed to be home now! He had to work early in the morning tomorrow so there was no way he could be out somewhere this late, and if he was, he would have picked up the phone and told me he’d call me back. What the fuck. This was torture. Then the most daunting of all thoughts popped into my head — was he having actual sex somewhere, with someone else?

What an asshole! I needed to get back at him even though he technically wasn’t doing anything wrong even if he was doing something at all. Ug. What was I to do?

I shut my phone off. It was painful to look at, all silent and such. I laid on my bed,and my hands crept down my pants. I started to masturbate without anyone listening to me do it for the first time in a really really long time. 

I didn’t hold myself back. I let all my inhibitions down and thought about so many arousing things that had nothing to do with my ex boyfriend. I thought about some of his friends... two of them at once! I thought about the guy I cheated on my ex with but never told him about. I thought of men I’d never spoken to in my life. I talked dirty to myself and stuck fingers in every orifice I could fit them in. I came harder and better than I ever had in my life, with no dildo, and no dick, and no phone.

I passed out in my bed. He called a few hours later and I didn’t pick up. I was busy spending time with someone much more important than my ex boyfriend, or any guy for that matter that, someone I had been neglecting for a while - myself.