The Call Ch. 02: Bathroom Encounter


I am sure my boyfriend Paul tries his best. No. I am being nice. Polite. There’s really no reason to be. Paul has gotten lazy. The foreplay is predictable. He does what is expected. Humps me. Fingers me. On what is supposed to be perceived as special occasions he even goes down on me.

I wonder if he expects me to be grateful. I wonder if I am being ungrateful. I hear girlfriends complain. For the first time I understand them. Sure, I have had average, even bad sex, but I never stayed in a relationship where the orgasms were lacklustre.

That also means I have slept with more guys then I will admit to, and the times I stayed with a guy, sex has been more important than any other sort of connection. Though I do get a tad emotionally involved, I’ve gone through these few years wondering if I will ever fall in love.

I fall in lust. That has seemed to be enough. I would even argue it is more than what some of my girlfriends have felt for their boyfriends. Sure they exchange sentiments and words, the guy meets their family and friends, they even move in together. Eventually, however, they start complaining, something is lacking. He never listens. This other one never picks up after himself and always mention how his mother did things better. Another refuses to move in and locks himself twice a day in the bathroom for forty five minute showers. Eventually, after a few months if they are lucky, if not a year or more, the relationship breaks down and they start over again with another one.

I had a couple of friends who did have long time boyfriends. Four years together and still going strong. Sure they complained but they stuck it out. The only way I could explain it to myself was that it had to be love. What this means is that intellectually speaking, I do believe in love. I am sure it exists. To hell if I know how it feels.

If I stay with a guy, through drama and random idiocy, it’s because I am entertained, I am having fun, and a large part of it is based on sexual compatibility. I tried a couple of times to look past the lust and settle for nice. Those relationships barely lasted a month. Until Paul.

Paul. My mom’s ideal. My dad’s logical choice. My sister’s hopes for me. Paul who seemed perfect on paper, until it came to sex. He tried. He had his basic technique down. I was needy and he knew which buttons to push. He was efficient.

Really, am I a bitch for complaining? I came. He would make me cum. He rubbed the right place, humped at the right angle, and pinched the right piece of flesh. Was I crazy for feeling restless? We could have intelligent conversations. We used to go out. We used to have fun.

Was it just the recent time apart that had me doubting our compatibility? Where we ever compatible?

We had met at the movies. Jessica had ditched me for a booty call and I decided I still wanted to see the most recent premier. It was a summer afternoon and the theatre was empty. I would have gone to the movies just to escape the summer mugginess. Still warm and damp with sweat from being outside I sat in the centre of the middle row. There was a couple sitting in the back. I did not need to look to guess what they were up to.

I thought about the last time I had done anything naughty in the back of a theatre and who it was with. It had probably been about eight months back. The guys I had been seeing since then had not been in to movies.

I was still warm, even with the strong A/C in the room. I took off my cardigan, leaving me in a thin white camisole and sheer baby pink demi bra. Normally I would have probably been more discreet, but apart from a couple of people sitting in the upper rows and the couple in the back, no one could see my top.

I had dressed with sexy underwear because when I went out with Jess… Well, I never knew where the evening would take me, who we would tease, what crazy things I’d be tempted to do. But alone in a theatre, if it weren’t for the heat, I would have not taken off the cardigan.

Safe in the knowledge I would not be flashing any kids as the previews ended and the movie started I settled down to immerse myself in the war story.

The movie was five minutes in when a guy came in and sat two seats away from me. Since he did not sit directly next to me I did not pay him any attention. The first fifteen minutes of a movie are crucial to me. Either the rest will make sense if the movie is good or none of it will. During a particularly wordy exposition scene, where the main character argues with his superiors about the report they received from the battlefield I heard a cough coming from next to me.

The guy was eating nachos and seemed to have swallowed sideways. He tried to be discreet and drank his bottled water to help stop the coughing. Distracted I saw him chug half the bottle and noticed his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He has a nice profile, I remember thinking to myself and turning back to the movie.

I felt like I missed and important piece of dialogue and silivri escort frowned at the screen. I then turned around and frowned at the guy. A petty move, I know. I had expected to throw a petty angry frown at a profile but he had turned his head, catching me.

He’s actually cute! I surprised myself thinking. I tried to morph my angry frown in to a worried frown as I turned my head down and pretended to look for my purse on the floor. Finding it I started rummaging through it, deciding to settle on a tube of lip gloss that I took out and put to use.

I had forgotten what I was wearing and did not consider that bending down would leave my cleavage in full display and that using the gloss would bring attention to my lips.

To this day, Paul tells me there is little he prefers more than seeing me bent over or with my lips covered in cum.


“Honey, babe, sweetheart. We can get together tomorrow but I won’t be able to stay too long, I have to drive back to the site to see how the new piece is working out. William, I mean Professor Stark, asked me to finish preparing the …”

I tuned out. Paul had been talking increasingly about work. I once had admired his passion but lately I felt like he would talk shop to distract me from my frustration. How he felt about the material they used, or whatever new piece they had developed for the prototype using the new 3D printer, and how Professor Stark was a freaking genius, and how he hoped he would be able to secure a more permanent position with his consulting firm when he graduated. All of this added to my annoyance, all I felt was burdened with having to listen to all of this.

How did I end up in this situation? God! I wanted to hang up and call Jess. Tell her that I had changed my mind and to wait for me back at the apartment so we could go to the party together. But that would mean telling her Paul had stood me up, again. I did not want to deal with her “I told you so” eye roll, or worse, see her concern. I could deal with a sassy Jessica, but seeing how worried just made me face the fact that my attempt at what I thought could be a healthy adult relationship had been another failure.

“Vic! You’re too young to settle down.” She would say in exasperation. “So what if you sister already had her career, wedding and future baby names planned out by the time she was your age. She does not have one adventurous bone in her perfectly shaped but stiff body!” She would add, gesticulating. “Stop trying to be something you’re not! You’re deceptively wild with a creative streak only rivalled by hallucinating madmen. Fuck. You make me so angry at times.” She would finish, more hopeless than mad but I had to give this relationship a try.

Annie, another of my friends would have debates with me about why ‘Nice’ had become such a derogatory comment, proclaimed there was nothing wrong with being ‘Nice’. I would reply that there was nothing good with being ‘nice’. Saying someone was nice was like the default setting, it was like saying a human being was a person. It did not say much about anyone and if the best you could say was that they were nice, then you had to just assume the commenter either had nothing to say or did not know the person at all.

As time has gone by, I have begun to accept that I think of Paul as ‘Nice’. As a person,I have many more epithets to describe him, but as a boyfriend? If someone had asked me at the beginning what being with Paul was like, I would have probably responded politely with a ‘Nice’. Was it because I had nothing else better to say or did I know nothing about relationships?

Lately, however, being with Paul no longer felt ‘nice’. It felt like a chore. Five months together, the longer I had been in a relationship. If we made it to the New Year it would be six months. Half a year. Zero point five years. For some reason I wanted that. Not because of Paul, but to prove to myself I could be serious. I could be tame.

By that I do not mean I could be tamed. I do mean tame, that I could act, from my own volition, as a tame individual. That I could control my urges. That I could control my whole being. That I could only be pushed if I wanted to be pushed. That I could only be tied down if I wanted to be tied down. I wanted to demonstrate total self-control. Just because I had wild tendencies did not mean I could not reign in my actions.

Frank laughed when I explained why I had to stop our little game this past summer. That I was seeing someone seriously and wanted to see if I could make it work. He did not push, he did not ask me to reconsider, he only said “Whatever you want babe” and kept drinking his beer.

With the amount of alcohol that guy could ingest, I still wondered how he could have the flat stomach and abs that he had.

God! Thinking of his abs and the way they taste has me distracted in a different manner. How long has this call been going on? Is Paul still talking about merter escort the rig, or arm, or whatnot?I wonder what he would say if he knew I was thinking about Frank and his delicious panty dropping body.

Frank had recently gotten a managing position with his father’s company. But he still kept in shape. He was still as tanned and had the power to have me begging like a bitch in heat if I was not careful; and I had to be careful, the party was at his apartment.

Knowing Frank’s father owned the construction company explained how he could afford such a nice apartment on a construction worker’s salary. He had gone to college but decided he would rather spend time working with his hands, and boy did he know how to use them. At 27, he was older than me and Jess by 6 years. He still had the power to make me feel like a silly little girl and going to his party without Paul as an anchor could potentially have me drowning in what many would consider inappropriate behaviour.

Inappropriate behaviour he knew too well how to get me addicted to, encouraging me to indulge two years ago, starting with Sal.


Sal had just fingered me to orgasm in public while Frank got head under the table from some random blonde.

That had just happened.

To me.

In a bar.

Not only did I cum, I basically performed for Frank like some slut. Sal was a lot drunker then we were and I doubted he had noticed how Frank and I had basically eye fucked one another sitting sideways from each other on the half-moon booth. He did not notice while he was distracted pounding my pussy with his fingers how Frank pinching my nipples was actually what had gotten me and Frank off, both of us cumming at the same time.

This was insane. What had gotten in to me? Why did Jessica have to put the idea of Frank in my head as a real alternative to him just being a friend’s ex. Her ex? Did she know something like this could happen? Would happen? I was feeling lightheaded from the orgasm, the drinks, the thoughts swirling in my head like midnight butterflies.

My sweater and bra pulled back up over my chest, Sal still grabbed at my breasts, kneading them, pulling my mouth to his lips, kissing me. Sal was a good kisser. He kissed passionately. His tongue was liquid yet firm, he held my face with one hand in a much more tender fashion than I expected from such a large man.

As I much as I enjoyed kissing Sal, I still needed air, a little bit of thinking space to take in what had just happened. I pulled away slowly and excused myself to the bathroom. Sal quickly sat up to let me walk pass him but still took the opportunity as I stood in front of him to pull my hips to his and I could feel his erection press against my backside.

Pushing my red hair away from my ear, he bent down whispering “When I get you alone you are going to be sucking my cock with that luscious mouth of yours and then I am going to make you see stars, gorgeous. So hurry up!” he finished with a wink as he lightly slapped my ass, making me yelp as I walked to the bathroom.

In the single bathroom I noticed how wet my underwear had gotten from recent activities. I used some of the paper towel to wipe away some of my spending, as I was sure the night would just add to what had gathered there.

“I am going to fuck Sal!” I said out loud to the mirror. “Sal is going to fuck me!” I added. I repeated the two phrases a few times, as if I was trying them on for size and found that I was okay with it. Sure, it had gotten intense at the table, but I could handle sex with Sal. I wanted to have sex with Sal. Hell, I was so horny, if Sal pulled out of his offer I would beg Frank or probably resort to hooking with one of the random cute guys at the bar. But Sal did not seems like the type to leave a girl hanging, which reminded me that I should probably get back to the table before the group got impatient.

As I opened the door to the ladies’ room a male body slipped in. Startled my first instinct was to scream but quickly a hand pressed itself to my mouth and as I looked up I recognized Frank. He had an intense, determined look on his face.

“Sal is drunk and can’t drive back to his place.”

What? Had Frank basically attacked me in the bathroom to be a good friend who does not let his friend drive drunk? The sentiment was commendable but the execution appeared a bit overly dramatic. Having removed his hand from my mouth I responded.

“Of course. We’ll just take the taxi back. I was going to do that anyway. You don’t need to wor…”

“No.” Frank crooned, pressing himself against me until my back was flush against the bathroom wall and I could somehow feel an erection poking me in the belly. Hadn’t he just cum in that blonde’s mouth? How could he be hard again so freaking soon?

“You are going to suggest we all go to my place, have a few drinks and he’ll stay in the guest bedroom. It’s barely three blocks away, and he’ll mecidiyeköy escort be able to collect his car in the morning.”

“That’s nice, Frank, really it is, but…” I tried to reason.

“Shhhhhh, V.” he said bringing a finger to my lips, rubbing it lightly back and forth. “Don’t think I did not notice how you got off on me watching you and Sal.”

“I don’t know whaaaa” he pressed himself harder on me, his finger no longer on my lip but in my mouth, cutting me off.

“Your lips are so soft” he added a little more gently with a sigh. “Come on baby, suck my finger.” He was so confident I felt overwhelmed. I was so horny I would have done just about anything. So I sucked and a moan escaped me. His fingers had an aftertaste of cheap soap, probably the soap used in the men’s washroom.

“That’s it, sugar.” He urged me on. “Phil told me how he taught you to suck like a good little cocksucker.” At his mention of Phil’s name, the guy I had lost my virginity to last spring and who had left for Calgary three months ago, I shot Frank an accusing frown.

“Oh, don’t be mad, Vicky!” He added, mocking. “He only had praise for you and your talents. I had to basically force it out of him, he was reluctant to share info, which is unheard of for that guy. I guess he actually cares for you or you’re just that good and he wanted to keep you to himself” he said shrugging.

Pushing his finger in and out of my mouth while I continued to suck and lick it with my tongue I wondered why I could not stop. Him mentioning Phil had caught me by surprise but his admission that Phil had probably shared some of the more intimate details of our relationship did not have the expected effect of cooling down my hormones. Weirdly enough, it turned me on. So I moaned around his finger.

Quickly removing his digit from my mouth, Frank got his hands under my butt and hoisted me against the wall, my pussy pressing against his growing hard on and I instinctively wrapped my legs around him.

“Oh, fuck!” I had just had an orgasm not fifteen minutes earlier but my pussy was fully awake, my clit desperate for friction.

“Shhhh, baby.” Said Frank rubbing his nose against mine. As I tried leaning in for a kiss he pulled away and I frustratingly ground myself against his rock hard body.

How the fuck did Jessica take it? This was exquisite torture. Was this how she felt when she had been with him? It felt as if all my molecules were shifting away from wherever they were and exploding one after the others in painfully delightful tingles. My toes clenched, from my back to my ears I could feel prickling, like thousand little ants crawling.

“V, look at me and listen carefully.” Said Frank. “I said look at me.” He insisted and I noticed I had closed my eyes. Over his shoulders I saw his back and myself in the mirror. Who was that girl? She looked wanton, disheveled, and fuckable. I looked back at Frank, suddenly feeling like it was important that I behave.

“You are going to tell Sal to stay at my place for the night. Don’t worry, it won’t get out of hand, you’ll have your own room to do your thing.” At my confused look he added “Kristi, Krista, Krystal, whatever her name is also coming over so I will also be entertained. At least for a while.” He added with a smirk.

He brought his hand back to my lips and without being asked I sucked two of his fingers in, sucking as if I wished it was his dick in my mouth. “Good girl, you learn fast.” He praised. “I want you to put your beautiful mouth to good use and be as loud as possible when you’re with Sal. I think you remember how the sound travels easily in between the two bedrooms, right?”

That first night, Phil and I had used his guest room too. Of course I remembered. I blushed.

“God, I love how you blush! You were blushing so much the night we met. I fucked Jess so hard while listening to Phil fuck you. I kept imagining it was me in that room, with you.” Frank admitted, rubbing his nose against mine while he kept pushing his fingers harder and deeper in to my willing and desperate mouth. “I want you to talk dirty tonight, you hear me?” he insisted.

I nodded. I may not have had much experience at the time, but Phil had been a creative and expressive lover, and the four short months with him had given me enough of the basics to instinctively understand some kinks. The two other guys I had slept with since Phil left did not have the same drive. Frank did. This was familiar and exciting territory. Of course play between me and Phil had never involved someone else, but dirty talk was something I could handle.

“I want you to make sure that he talks back. Knowing Sal, that should not be too difficult.” I nodded, eagerly wanting to please him. “Knowing Sal he will also be conked out until morning when he’s done.” He chuckled. “So when you hear Crissy leave and Sal’s asleep, I want you to go through the bathroom between the adjoining rooms, lock it from your side, freshen up and wait for me. Got it?”

Again, I just nodded, taking his finger harder and faster, one of my hands on his shoulder and the other on my own body that would not stop grinding against him. Frank got one of his hands on my hip, holding me down while the other one took hold of the hand that was tweaking my nipples that I had again uncovered by pulling down my top and bra.

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