23 year old, Fatima's life was well planned out when she finished her college studies in Stanford University. Coming back home in London, she'd planned to take a gap year and have time to figure out what she really wanted to do with her life. Everyt...
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I woke up abruptly, groaning and hitting the pillow so hard. My phone wouldn't stop ringing, it was so loud. I patted the night stand, searching for it. I swiped to answer without checking the caller ID. Sleep was still killing me, I could barely see anything.
"What?" I mumbled, irritated that I was woken up so early. I was not a morning person ever.
"Damn, you're trying to kill me." Zayn teased on the other side of the line with a soft chuckle. My sleep vanished almost immediately, not forgetting to blush like a teenage girl.
"Hey!"
"Did I wake you?" He asked.
"Uh... no, you didn't."
"Yes I did."
"You did, yes you did." I giggled.
"How are you?"
"Good... good. Just er..." I yawned and lay on my back with my phone on speaker. "I'm okay, just a bit sleepy."
"Want me to call you back?"
"No, no, it's okay. We can talk. I meant to call you around midnight to check if you landed safely."
"I did, I had a lot to do when I got here and now I just got home, I'm about to freshen up."
"Make sure you rest, okay?"
"Yes mam."
"And enjoy Italy."
"I would but you're not here."
"Oh really?" I bit my lip.
"Yep. You're wearing any panties?"
As if I couldn't get any wetter. My hand was on my lower belly, tracing lines there ever so smoothly, exactly how he always touched me there. It was an amazing feeling, also ticklish.
"No, I'm not..."
"Good... because I want you to touch yourself, love." With a lowly rough, hoarse voice he muttered, that alone was enough to turn me on. My hand automatically trailed my hand up my tummy, going up to my breast. I gave one breast a little squeeze, I rubbed my breasts with both hands and pinched my nipples. My breathing was erotic and chaotic. It was surprising how my body just responded to my touch, the feeling was euphoric. I had touched myself before but I never felt this way ever, I'd just end up not satisfied and my fingers cramped up if I'd fingered myself.
I hitched a breath when I heard him muttering a 'Fuck'. I traced my other hand to my lower belly then to my core, I was damped with wetness. That was new. Playing with my clit, rubbing softly, I moaned lowly but loud enough for him to hear me. All that was running through my mind was Zayn, flashes of him, fingering me, eating me up like a hungry animal, whispering sweet dirty things to me, which he was whispering through the phone. I slid my finger inside me ever so easily cause I was drenching wet. I penetrated myself slowly, then picked up the pace a little bit, my moans filled the room and I didn't give a damn who might hear me.
