You were sitting cross-legged in the middle of your bed, a position you had been in for several hours, flipping through books and papers full of notes, textbooks and review sheets were scattered around you, strewn out across your patterned bed sheets. You knew you should have started studying earlier for this exam but you didn't due to your excessive procrastination. Even though you were grounded and you didn't get out of the house much nowadays, you still didn't care to spend much of your free time doing homework. You rather binge watch shows on Netflix or play games on your cellphone or stare off into space at your ceiling, those were all more appealing than studying.
You just wanted to pass these exams, or at least, you hoped you would, without studying. You didn't usually care much for grades, but the closer you got to graduating, the more determined you were to get the hell out of that school.
You chewed on the end of a pen, skimming across the words printed before you. As you flipped to the next page, you couldn't recall a single word you had just read. You groaned in frustration, your pen falling from your mouth and onto your lap. You fell backwards onto your bed and glared at the ceiling. You ran your hands through your hair, there was so much you needed to cram into your head for the upcoming exam.
You had been studying for a while, only getting up to use the bathroom and grab a quick snack. It had been a long day and you swore if you looked at one more problem from a past final exam you might cry. You hated yourself for losing your focus in class, now you were paying for your bad study habits greatly.
Your phone rang loudly in your pocket. You checked who was calling you, and it was Andrew. You were quick to answer it, actually grateful for the distraction.
"Hello?"
"Tell me what you're wearing," the voice answered, deep and husky.
"Hello to you too, Andrew," you replied, somewhat playfully. "You miss me already, huh?"
You thought it was Andrew on the other end, but little did you know, it was a mischievous ginger named Jerome pretending to be him, impersonating him.
Jerome hoped he could mimic the voice of an uneducated future frat boy well enough, and that you wouldn't be able to tell that it wasn't really him. He also hoped that you didn't ask him questions that he didn't know the answers to because he knew close to nothing about this friend of yours. If things turned to shit, he could always hang up the phone and act like nothing ever happened. It wasn't like Andrew would find out that he did this anyway, he was dead. Jerome was bored and like always, he had to find a way to cure his boredom, and he thought this was just perfect. It was a sick ploy to get his rocks off so that meant it was right up Jerome's alley.
"You know I do, I can't stop thinking about you," Jerome drawled.
"I'm kind of busy at the moment. I really need to study so I don't have time for this," you said, but your voice lacked conviction. You didn't really want to study anymore, you had been for hours already and it was proving to be a helpless situation.
"Are Mommy and Daddy home?" Jerome asked in a whisper.
"No, they're not," you said with a coy giggle. "I'm here all by myself."
"Do you want me to talk to you? Keep you company for tonight?" he murmured, and even through the phone clutched to your ear, you shuddered at the dark velvet of his voice, the way he could have you ready for him just like that.
"Yes, please," you whispered softly, your breath coming high in your throat.
"Now, I've got a rule for you. You're going to call me Daddy, understand?" he ordered, and you immediately felt your cheeks flush in response.
"So demanding," you laughed.
"What did I just tell you?" Jerome demanded.
"Yes Daddy," you answered coyly.
"Good girl. Now, tell me, what are you wearing for me?" he asked, and you could hear the smirk playing on his lips. How he could be this composed, know exactly what to say, was beyond you.
"I'm just wearing a big white shirt and panties," you replied carefully, breathless.
The deep chuckle that poured from his mouth had your thighs clenching and you pressed your legs together to not whimper at the image of him sitting in a chair, legs spread lightly to make a perfect seat. Oh, what you would give to sit on his lap and do all the things he was going to tell you. The hand that was not holding the phone was already wandering down your neck towards your chest.
"Well then, let me help you unwind. Are you alone?" you could hear him shuffling, he was probably getting into a more comfortable position. The idea of him touching himself while talking to you made your heart race rapidly.
You hummed and closed your eyes, taking a breath and licking your lips.
"Good. I want you to open your window and get undressed. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?"
Jerome was a fan of pushing your boundaries. He knew you were into the thrill of getting caught and he made it his mission to push your limits a little further. You told him to wait for a second, hurrying to slightly open the window and then you started working on your shirt.
"Good girl. Now, how long have you studied today?"
"Three hours. I started right after I got home from class," you said. You let out the breath you did not know you had been holding and smiled, although he could not see it.
He let out a hum and a soft 'clink' was heard. He was taking off his belt and most likely his pants, too. You shivered in anticipation and awaited his response patiently.
You moved your books and your scattered papers from the bed, setting them on the floor so you could lay down comfortably without it in the way.
You fumbled with the buttons on your shirt, half because you were doing it one handed, half because you were moving too fast to comprehend what you were doing.
"If that's the case, my good girl deserves a reward, don't you think?" he smirked, lightly palming himself through his boxers.
You let out a whine at that and squirmed, already feeling your arousal collecting and smearing over the inside of your thighs.
Jerome let out a light laugh and leaned back in his chair. "Well, well. You're whining already, you must be desperate. Touch your boobs, squeeze them real good. And don't hold back on the sounds, I want to hear everything, understood?"
"Yes, sir," you whispered and lightly traced your skin, goosebumps arising at your soft touch. You opened your shirt up enough to cup your breast, biting back a moan when you ran your thumb over your nipple through the thin fabric of your bra. "I want you here, so bad," you murmured, desperate. You loved his voice, but you'd much rather have him be here, have his own hand taking over, callouses catching over the lace against your skin, have him pushing your strap over your shoulder with his teeth, tongue laving over your nipple before drawing it gently between his teeth.
"You know what I'd be doing if I was there," he said, and you both knew. "Keep you waiting all night. Take you back to my place and undress you. One layer at a time."
He couldn't follow through, not through the phone, but you took it for the order it was. "Where?"
"Your breasts. I'd take off your shirt and then tease your nipples," his voice hardened and you knew it was because he was just as invested in this as you were. That he was leaning into the chair, phone pressed to his ear, wishing he could be there touching you instead of telling you to.
"Touch your breasts for me, princess. You know I like to watch you play with yourself," he whispered. You unclasped your bra from underneath your shirt and tossed it to the side. You started massaging the supple flesh, your nipple protruding between your middle and ring finger as you closed them around the bud. Letting out a soft sigh, you gently tugged on it before moving over to your other breast, giving it the same treatment. You kept alternating sides while waiting for more commands.
It took physical effort not to moan and give yourself away. "I need more. Please."
Jerome listened to your sounds, the small whimpers and sighs until he deemed it enough. "Go lower, over your thighs. But I don't want you to touch yourself yet."
"But you said I'll get my reward for being good!" you whined and huffed into the phone, to which Jerome just chuckled.
"You will, don't worry. But until then, keep being a good girl, okay? I promise it'll feel much better if you listen to me, sweetheart."
"Okay," you pouted and spread your legs a little more, letting your nails run over the skin of your thighs. Getting closer to your core, you smirked at the thought of touching yourself. Jerome couldn't help but think about his favorite punishment for you which was edging. He loved listening to your moans and cries as you begged him to let you cum but his resolve was like steel. You could not imagine how someone could be that cruel and deny you such blinding bliss. But you knew he was right, it would feel so good once he would let you cum.
And so you pulled yourself together, caressing your legs and lightly pinching them to mimic someone leaving bite marks all over you. Jerome patiently listened, the pressure in his groin intensifying with every whine and whimper you let out. He wanted to be there, he wanted to be the you would make these sounds for. Well, technically, he was but he wanted to see what you looked like while he was between your thighs, nipping and teasing you. He wanted to feel your hands in his hair as you desperately pulled him closer to your core, your arousal dripping down to your sheets.
He quickly shook those thoughts off and decided it was enough. "Sweetheart, you can touch yourself now. But do it slowly."
You smiled to yourself and followed his orders.
"Spread your legs wide and start at the inside of your thighs, let your nails leave marks. Look how wet you've gotten," he drawled out.
You did as you were told and your lips parted in a silent gasp as you felt your arousal close to dripping onto your sheets. Collecting it with your fingers, you watched as you spread them, your juices evident on them.
He paused for a moment, and you knew it was for your benefit. To make you wait, even just a few moments. "I know you're already wet, princess, but why don't you tell me?"
You didn't have to waste any time, rucking up your shirt, rubbing yourself once, over your thin panties, entirely soaked through, before nudging it aside. You released a sharp breath before you murmured, "I'm so wet. I'm almost dripping on my sheets," you whimpered and licked your fingers, savoring the slightly salty taste. "I'm wet enough for your cock in me."
You could practically hear him swallow. "Is that what you want? My cock?"
"Yes," you whispered. "So badly."
"And I haven't even started yet," his chuckle sent goosebumps over your skin. "I want you to keep touching yourself, just like you usually do. Play with your clit and finger yourself but you won't cum until I tell you to. Can you do that for me?"
"Yes, Daddy," you answered in a sultry voice.
"Good girl. And remember, don't hold back," he told you.
He was really pushing you today. Jerome knew how easily you gave in to your desires and you hated being held back. However, he loved edging you and knowing that the window was open for everyone around to hear you–––hear what he was doing to you.
You stroked yourself again, drawing your wetness up to circle your clit. It was easy to think of the last time you were together, with Andrew, only a few nights ago, where you had ridden him achingly slowly, chest to chest, moaning into his shoulder.
"I want your cock, so bad, please Daddy, give it to me," you murmured breathlessly.
He didn't respond after a few moments, too worked up with you fully knowing it, but he finally continued. "You don't get my cock till you've had my mouth and fingers, baby, you know that."
You swallowed hard, circling harder, faster, knuckles white where they clutched your phone. "I know, but-"
"But?" he urged, and you could feel his precision starting to break, wear down.
"Daddy," you groaned out, unable to hide the tension from your voice. "I just want you in me. I need you in me."
"Are you touching your clit for me, princess?" he just growled, an edge creeping into his tone.
You shuddered, rocking against your hand, the soft bed sheets pressed against your body. "Yes," you swallowed. "Are you touching yourself?"
"Yes," he ground out. "I can't stop thinking about the way you taste, princess, and the way you moan for me when I fuck your pretty little pussy, how I want to tear you out of your clothes."
"Daddy," you cried out, whimpering. "I'm soaking for you, I love hearing you tell me exactly what you want to do to me. I-"
"That was fast, what did it? Me talking about how much I want to fuck you?" he chuckled darkly, amusement in his tone. "You're a little needy tonight, aren't you?" he teased, voice dropping, and you nearly moaned outright.
"Yes, I'm always so needy for you," you told him.
"Turn your phone on speaker so you can use both of your hands, sweetheart," Jerome ordered.
You did as you were told and set your phone on the nightstand before slowly reaching between your legs to collect a bit of your arousal and spread it over your lower lips and rub your clit leisurely. You were warming yourself up, your fingers barely brushing over the sensitive nub while your other hand was busy with twisting and pinching your nipple. Your sounds were still dimmed, he knew that. He knew that you needed some time to warm up and really get comfortable.
"C'mon, I know that's not all you got, sweetheart."
His voice spurred you on and thus, you applied more pressure to your clit. The delicious sounds that left your lips had Jerome scurrying out of his boxers and he wrapped his hand around his cock. The soft touch had him sighing and he leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes and imagining you on his bed. His hand moved along his shaft slowly, just in time with the wet squelch that emitted from your pussy as you pushed a finger inside you.
"Oh my god, it feels so good," you sighed softly, your voice rising in pitch as you angled them towards that spot that made you arch your back even more. Jerome bit back a moan at the image of you spread out on your bed, nipples erect and a finger moving in and out of your cunt. He gripped his leaking cock a little tighter, sucking in a breath.
"I bet you look so pretty right now, sweetheart. Such a pretty slut you are," he murmured. At the way your breath stuttered and a soft whisper of "oh my god" left your lips, he knew that he hit another sweet spot of yours.
He smirked and his grip on the phone tightened a little. "Mhmm, interesting. You like it when I call you a slut?"
You hummed and he could see you nodding through the phone, too shy and too into it to admit.
"Use your words, sweetheart. I can't see you through the phone."
"Yes, I like it when you call me a slut, Daddy," you whispered.
The breathlessness and neediness of your voice had his blood boil in arousal. His hand was now moving faster and his eyes closed yet again, succumbing to the pleasure just for a little bit. Your moans and the sound of you fingering yourself had him tumbling over the edge faster than he wanted. Little did you know that it was only you who could make him cum so hard and that it wasn't your fuck buddy, but it was Jerome.
"Oh fuck, please."
Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts and he slowed his hand down. "What is it, princess?"
You let out a few heavy breaths, squirming around. "Please call me that again. I'm so close, oh god," you sighed and your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to hold back but it felt so good.
"What do you want to be called, then?"
Your loud whine had the corners of his mouth pulling up and he bit his lip to keep himself from chuckling. The antics you pulled sometimes were so endearing to him, even if the both of you were naked and getting off to each other's sounds. He tilted his head to the side as he neglected his aching cock that was leaking precum. He wanted to get off very badly but your pleasure was in focus. He leaned against his hand as he tapped his fingers against the desk.
"I asked you a question, sweetheart."
You bit your lip and hesitated a little but then answered meekly. "I want to be called a slut. I wanna be called your slut, Daddy."
His breath hitched in his throat and he felt dizzy, blaming it on all the blood rushing south.
'She's just desperate,' he thought when you emphasized that word. 'She is just desperate and wants to cum, she doesn't even fucking know it's you. Get yourself together.'
Jerome shook his head and diverted his attention back to you. "You wanna be my slut, huh?"
The sharp intake of breath that followed had him smirking. "Well, well. You can use a second finger to fuck yourself like the desperate little slut you are. And I know you're close, but don't cum. You know that good sluts listen."
"Yes, Daddy," you said, you pulled your finger out and prodded at your dripping entrance with two fingers, slowly pushing them in. A heavy sigh left your lungs and your head fell back on the pillow with a thud. The stuttered moan that followed after had Jerome's cock twitching. He gripped it again, slowly moving his hand in time with the sounds that came from your pussy, his hips bucking up into his hand. His chest heaved with every stroke but he managed to keep himself together for the sake of hearing your sounds.
"What would you do to me if you were here? Tell me everything," your breathy voice made him stop in his movements and he froze. He was used to just giving instructions to you but the new approach was something he was not used to, but also not opposed to.
A few moments of silence passed before he quickly regained his composure. He quietly cleared his throat and bit his lip. "What I'd do to you?"
A soft "yeah" came from the other end of the line, making the corners of his mouth quirk up.
"Oh, sweetheart. I don't even know where to start," he licked his lips before continuing. "I'd tie your hands to the bed so that you can't touch me. Then I'd kiss you, nice and slow to warm you up. Would you like that?"
You hummed in response, squirming and slowing down your movements.
"Mhmm, good. I'd mark you up, in purple and red, all over your neck and chest. I bet your nipples are hard and ready to be played with, hm?" he said in a raspy voice.
"They are," you answered.
"Can you play with them for me? I really wanna know how you sound when you play with them, princess."
You reluctantly slid your hands back up to your chest, tugging slightly on your nipples. The sigh that left your lips, although quiet, did not go unnoticed. Jerome smirked to himself and bit his lip to keep himself from chuckling. You rolled your sensitive buds between your fingers, squeezing your breasts and squirming around the mattress.
"I'd play with them for a while, marking up your chest and stomach. Showing everyone whose little slut you are. Wouldn't you love that? For me to ruin you?" he said with a devious mirk.
Letting go of his cock, he took a deep breath to not spill himself right then at the whine that followed his question.
You were still writhing, imagining how it would feel to have his hands on you.
"And then I'd part your legs and look at what you got for me. Gonna mark up your thighs, too. Your pussy looks so pretty, I bet. Bet you're dripping and ready to take me. I wanna eat you out so bad, you must taste so sweet," Jerome said, wrapping his long fingers around himself again, stroking at a leisure pace.
You keened, the praise getting to your head. "Can I play, Daddy?"
His hum gave you the green light and your hands were on your cunt before he could say anything else. The two fingers from before were inside you again, your other hand rubbing your clit as moans left your lips.
"You're such a desperate little slut, so on edge and waiting for my command," his voice suddenly dropped a few notes and you shivered, clenching down on your fingers.
You let out the barest whimper. You could feel him in the low timbre of his voice, imagine what his lips felt like drifting over your neck, the warm press of his hands at your waist, your hips. Every dark murmur grated against your skin, sent heat between your thighs. Because when you two were together, he preferred to give. Everything he told you, everything he did, all boiled down to him wanting to please you. It just so happened that pleasing you pleased him as well.
But hearing him tell you that he wanted to be there, wanting to be in you. You bit back a groan, rubbing faster, precise circles, and imagined him backing you into the cool wall. His broad form would shelter yours and he would swallow your moans, slant his mouth across yours and kiss you until you were completely and utterly breathless.
When you didn't respond at first, he added, "Fuck, baby girl, I want to hear you moan for me. All those sounds you make when I have my mouth on you, tasting you."
You nodded, forgetting that he couldn't see you, murmuring a breathless plea. In your fantasy, he wasn't gentle with you. He grasped your thighs, hoisting you against the wall, rolling his hips into yours and you could feel how hard he was, how much he wanted to be inside you. You arched your back and ground into him, grinding against your own hand as you let the fantasy play out in your head.
"Daddy," you managed to get out breathlessly.
He almost groaned in response. "You're such a filthy girl, aren't you, princess?" he practically growled the words and you bit your lips to stop from making a noise.
"Mmmh," you just pressed out in acknowledgement.
A pause. "What are you thinking about?"
You clutched the bed sheets. "You here. Pressing me against the wall."
A muttered curse came from the other end of the line.
"You being here to feel how wet I am for you. Not even taking my panties off, just pushing them out of the way so you can be in me," you let out a little cry, writhing shamelessly against your hand, body taut. "Fuck, Daddy, you'd feel so good in me right now."
That ache throbbed through you, rested heavy between your thighs, just a little more, more. You loved his voice, it was deep and sounded like honey whenever he spoke his commands and rewarding words. Sometimes it would have a sensual rasp to it, letting your body go up in flames when he sighed and groaned into the line.
"Mmmm," he just murmured, dark, predatory. "I'm going to tease you till you can't even moan, princess. You're going to be a good girl for me, aren't you?"
"Daddy," you cried.
He didn't even pause. "You're going to taste so good, doll, splayed out on my bed for me. I'm going to fuck you hard enough you scratch my back like last time, hmm? You'll be squirming and trembling, every inch of you, when you come around my cock."
Oh shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. He just called you 'doll'. That was Jerome's nickname for you. He was almost certain that Andrew never called you that. Jerome felt his heart skip a beat. How could he be so careless and let that slip out? He didn't want you to know it was him you were talking to. It was too much fun messing with you and pretending to be someone else.
He was almost ready to hang up but then you snapped him out of his thoughts when you just said, "Oh Daddy," half in awe, half in gratitude. The image slammed into you, the memory of his weight over you, his hips rocking into yours, breathless at the fill of him inside you, his breath against your neck, the heat of his lips against your skin, and you shattered to it.
You didn't catch that. Good. He was in the clear. That was a close one. You were probably too focused on trying to get off that you didn't hear it.
Throbbing pleasure resounded through you and you didn't realize how hard you were clutching the bed sheets until you realized you were trembling.
"Nh- God, please, just wanna cum," you whined and Jerome decided to have mercy on you.
"Mhmm, alright, since you've been so good today. Fuck yourself on your fingers, show me what a good girl you are."
Your body was covered in goosebumps and sweat. Your release was oh so close, you could taste it in the air.
"Please, please, 'm so close. Daddy, please," you groaned, fingers diving in and out of you at a rapid pace, desperate for release.
Jerome waited, listening to a few more of your delicious noises. The hand around his shaft picked up the pace and he felt himself getting closer. He bit his lip to conceal the growls that threatened to escape, wanting to hear just you.
"Go ahead, sweetheart. Cum for me."
Your body reacted instantly after hearing his words. Your entire body tensed up and immediately released the pressure. You moaned endlessly as the orgasm wrecked through you, making you shudder and thrash on your bed. A stream of thank you's left your lips as your breath slowly evened out and the adrenaline slowly subsided.
On the other end of the line was Jerome, immersed in getting his orgasm as well and even after his quite intense one, he felt ready to go again when he heard you reach yours.
He let out a drawn out grown as he shuddered. A string of profanities followed while spurts of white decorated his shirt. Slowly stroking himself and coming down from his high, he chuckled lowly.
"I should probably get back to studying," you said after a long stretch of near silence, just listening to the other breathe for a while.
"Yeah, that would probably be wise," he replied, breathy and hot. He didn't want you to go, because he knew eventually you'd find out that Andrew was missing, and he wanted to keep up this game for as long as possible. It was fun and addictive being someone else for a while.
"I'll see you later."
"Bye babe, have fun studying," Jerome said, nearly cringing that he had to continue imitating Andrew's voice.
"Ha, thanks. Bye bye," you answered before hanging up quickly.
You released a deep sigh and smiled contently to yourself. You stood up from the bed and walked over to the window to close it, completely unaware of the fact that your fuck buddy had been brutally murdered and that you had gotten off to Jerome's cheap imitation of said fuck buddy's voice. Little did you know that you gotten off to Jerome's sick game. Oh how Jerome just loved to mess with your pretty little head.
A full-fledged grin broke out on Jerome's face the second you hung up the phone, a sense of pride swelling in his chest at how he had truly mastered the art of deception.