“Are you still nervous?”

“Yes,” I reply too quickly.

“OK, then since we’ve just met and this is our first time, maybe you shouldn’t be allowed to touch me.”

“No?”

“No. Maybe you should only be allowed to touch yourself. Kneel down in front of me, Grace.”

I don’t know what to do. Do I really kneel? Is this all pretend and we just say we’re doing things? I don’t get it.

“Are you kneeling? Don’t lie to me. I want you to kneel down and picture me naked, sitting on a black leather couch, my hand on my shaft, pumping up and down in a slow rhythm.”

“I’m sitting on my bed.” I figure this game might be fun, but only if I play along. “But I’m getting to my knees now.” I stand up and kneel down on the rug that lines the long edge of my bed and then put the phone in front of me and press the speaker icon. “I’m kneeling now.”

“Mmmm. And you put me on speaker, like a filthy little blue bird.”

“Now what?”

“You want me to do the talking?” he asks with an incredulous tone. “When you’re the one who needs the favor? Sweetie, please.”

“Mr. Asher,” I say in a low husky whisper. “I want you to tell me what you want so I can please you.”

He chuckles. “If I do, and I take care of the Twitter frenzy, you will owe me twice, darling. Do you really want to stack these favors like that?”

“Yes,” I say back immediately. “Because I have no idea what to do, OK? I just don’t. I’ve never done this before, I’m out of my element, and I’m starting to get horny.”

I hear that smile from a thousand miles away. “Are you naked?” he asks, his voice a little bit rougher.

“No, I’m just in shorts and a t-shirt.”

“If I take control, you will follow all my directions?”

“I swear.”

“OK,” he agrees too quickly and I have a wave of nausea wondering what that might mean. “Strip, grab your vibrator, and return to that kneeling position. And Grace? Don’t bother telling me you don’t have a vibrator. Now do as I say and describe to me in detail as you follow my directions.”

“OK, I’m standing. And now I’m pulling my shirt over my head.” I do that and drop the shirt on the floor.

“Do you have a bra on?”

“No.”

“Stop for a moment and play with your br**sts. Tell me how they feel, so I can imagine I’m the one touching them.”

I cup my br**sts and squeeze. “They’re soft, and they overfill my palm. “

“Mmmm. They overfill mine too. I love them.”

“If you were here, I’d want you to suck them.”

“If I was there, I’d lift them up to your lips and make you suck them yourself.”

Oh.

“Do that, Grace. I’d like you to do that.”

“I can’t,” I laugh.

“You won’t. OK, moving on. Take off the shorts.”

My brows knit together as I ponder what that quick capitulation might signify. “My shorts are unbuttoned so I’m pulling them down over my hips.” They fall to the floor with a soft whoosh. “Now they’re around my ankles.”

“Do you have panties on?”

“No.”

He chuckles. “Do you go commando often?”

“Yes. I don’t see the purpose of underwear when mine are so skimpy they barely count. What’s the point?”

“I’m not complaining. Now get your vibrator and tell me what kind it is.”

I walk over to my night stand and pull the top drawer open. “It’s a Lelo. It’s in a black satin drawstring bag. It’s pink, and it’s the Gigi.”

“Does it feel good when you use it?”

“Yes, it better, it cost enough.”

“Who do you think about when you use it, Grace?”

“You.”

There is nothing but silence.

“Asher?”

He clears his throat. “Kneel down on the floor, spread your legs, and place the vibrator against your clit.”

“I’m kneeling. My legs are open, and—” I pause to turn my Gigi on. “And it’s touching my clit.”

“What setting do you start it on?”

“Full.”

“I’ll let that go this time, since this is all new. But when I get a hold of you and your Gigi, it will never be set on full power, Grace. A toy is used to stimulate you for me, not to get yourself off.”

Whatever, I think to myself. “Yes, Mr. Asher,” I say back to him. I’m never going to see him again and as fun as this could be, that shit right there is a mood-killer.

“I know you disagree, but that’s only because I’m not there. You think the toy is what makes you come, but it’s the visions of me that make you come. So, if we’re together, you won’t need the toy, Grace. Not for orgasms. Only for stimulation prior to my c**k entering your ass or your pu**y.”

Whoa. OK, I’m back. “I’m wet,” I tell him.

“Of course you are. You have a vibrator up against your pu**y and we are discussing the limits.”

“Wait, what? Limits? We’re not talking limits, Asher. We’re phone-fucking one time.”

“Lie down on the floor.”

I huff out some air. He’s got me right now. I need him to stop that Twitter chatter before it gets worse.

“Stick the tip of the vibrator into your pu**y, get it nice and wet, then remove it and rub it across your clit.”

I hesitate. I don’t make any noise, I swear. But I can hear him groan on the other end, like he knows. “Jesus,” I say, giving in and doing as he says. “Fine.”

“It’s not supposed to be torture, Grace. It’s supposed to be fun. And you know what? If you’re really not into it, then f**k it. Never mind.”

I get three quick beeps to let me know the call has ended and I just stare up at the ceiling. “What the f**k?” I pick the phone up and press redial. He picks up on the third ring. Like he was busy.

“What?” he barks.

“You’re like a little girl, you know that? A spoiled little girl who throws a tantrum when she doesn’t get her own way. I was playing along, Asher. But I’ve never done this stuff before and it’s embarrassing.” I huff out a disgusted sigh and then end my tirade with a, “Fuck you,” and the technology-age equivalent of a phone slam. A pointer finger press of the End tab.