Backgammon was their thing.
On late Sunday mornings, either on the back patio or in front of the fireplace, Caitlyn and her father played a contemplative game over jasmine tea.
They were nearly halfway through the game when her dad moved his six-point checker to knock Caitlyn's lone piece off the board. At that moment, Caitlyn's phone rang. Looking at the screen, she stood, eager to go to her room.
"Can we resume later? I have to take this."
"Of course. It's your turn when we come back."
She darted to her room, careful not to keep Miss Georgia waiting too long. She locked the door behind her.
"Miss Georgia."
"Now here I was thinking you were going to be bad and not pick up," Miss Georgia laughed.
Caitlyn held back a frown. "I'm sorry. I was with my father."
"Oh, am I interrupting family time?" There was joking quality to her voice, only partially genuine.
"N-No. I'm free now. To talk."
"Just to talk?"
Miss Georgia's implication opened the floodgates that Caitlyn had been learning to keep closed around her family and friends. That driving force to a singular goal.
"Anything, Miss Georgia."
"Well," she started. "I did want to talk. You, my dear, did a wonderful job at completing your first task for me. Mm, I've been thinking of your horny tits and how uncomfortable you looked. So fucking hot for me."
Caitlyn's face went red at her words and a melting sensation fell over her body. This was the element she was missing.
Miss Georgia continued. "So - how wet did it make you to walk around like that? What did you do about it?"
As Caitlyn gave pause, Miss Georgia smirked and added, "And use your words, baby. You're always tongue-tied."
"I was soaking. And I...touched myself in the car. In the school parking lot," Caitlyn confessed.
"My god, you naughty girl...I'll be honest, that's more than I expected of you. Now give up the details, love."
She tried to put herself back in that place, half-aware, rigid and gasping behind the wheel.
"Um...A girl from class was staring at my breasts, and I was embarrassed, but somehow that made it even better. I imagined us kissing, feeling each other up in the lecture hall. By the time class was over, I had to finger myself. I couldn't wait til I got home."
She could hear Miss Georgia's smile through the phone, and her voice dropped to a sultry tone. "And how hard did you cum?"
Caitlyn could once again feel the illusion of Alice's spit entering her mouth, and she sighed with lust.
"So fucking hard...and I could've been seen."
"You're a filthy, exhibitionist slut, aren't you?"
Exhibitionism. Another thing to add to her new list of shameful proclivities.
"I'm a filthy, exhibitionist slut," Caitlyn heard slip out of her mouth, in a way removed from it as if it were an echo in a cavern rather than her true voice.
"I know, darling. You wear it so well," Miss Georgia's words were like velvet on skin.
Caitlyn basked in the praise and whimpered. "Thank you, Miss Georgia."
"Now are you ready for your second task?"
Her heart rate began to climb. "Yes, Miss Georgia."
"Until I tell you otherwise, you are not to use your hands when you masturbate."
Caitlyn quite liked her hands for that purpose, and had never tried anything else (though her recent sexual renaissance had her considering starting a collection of toys), but up to this point, her long, slender fingers were her main instrument of choice to get herself off.
"W-What do you mean by that?" Caitlyn tried to keep her voice from wavering to no avail.
Miss Georgia clarified, all business. "No fists, no fingers. No toys that you hold in your hand."
Caitlyn had seen her fair share of solo female masturbation videos, but the positions she could recall that adhered to these rules seemed overacted and unsatisfying. She dared to ask her next question, sure that she was able to predict the answer.
"What if I can't orgasm?"
Miss Georgia let out a surprised chuckle. "That's not my problem, baby. Figure it out."
Exactly as she expected, and she knew better than to protest.
"Now, I've gotta go. I'll check in tomorrow. Maybe I'll take your panties next. Bye, darling."
"Bye, Miss Georgia," Caitlyn managed, blindsided by the abrupt end to their conversation.
Silence surrounded her in the bedroom and a nagging desire was winding it's grip around her, as she realized that she was sinking into Miss Georgia's demands. This is what she wanted with her whole body. Pieces of her mind and heart shared in that want, but caution weighed heavy on the other parts.
She wanted to fuck herself now, but the rule impeded her. Despite the heat growing at her center, she would have to figure that out later.
Caitlyn had a backgammon game to finish.
* * *
Surveying the house for any sign of her parents, it seemed to be empty that evening. It wasn't necessary that they leave for Caitlyn to have her self-care time, but it made her feel better to be sure she wasn't going to be disrupted.
Ever the high achiever, she was going to crack Miss Georgia's challenge.
She straddled the pillow on her bed fully nude and faced the mirror, trying to raise her chances of an orgasm as much as possible. Caitlyn watched herself as she leaned forward and began to gyrate her hips into the soft mass. Her phone laid nearby, sending audio porn to her headphones. The performer gasped and moaned, probably touching herself in a way that Caitlyn wasn't allowed to.
Caitlyn stared back at her own ocean-blue eyes, her lithe form moving in a steady rhythm. Beads of sweat gathered at her temples as she pushed harder, attempting to focus on the woman's dirty murmurs in her ears. Time dragged on as she shifted around to find pressure at the right spots and groaned in frustration as the performer yelled out her pleasure.
Dammit. This isn't working.
Resting her head against the comforter, she considered her options. The ideas of using the arm of a couch or even the washing machine were fleeting, as she didn't know when her parents would arrive home. To be caught in the sitting room having her way with her mother's favorite Fendi Casa sofa would forever mar their relationship. She would have to keep it in her room.
She needed something firmer, something she could really grind into. Moderately disappointed, she had to face away from the mirror. Caitlyn decided to shift her mattress out from it's frame just a bit, so she could mount the corner of it. Feet on the lush carpet, she scrolled through her phone for another audio, then began rocking forward as the performer started.
The difference was nearly immediate, as the stiff surface rubbed against her clit and the soft linens caressed her labia. Caitlyn moaned in satisfaction, the possibility of climax now in sight.
This new woman sounded like Salma Hayek, something that turned Caitlyn on more than she realized. She described her fantasy of being at the center of a lesbian threesome, set against the backdrop of a luxurious rooftop pool. There would be onlookers of either gender, free to watch and play on their own. The woman's intermittent gasps and whimpers sent lust radiating through her as she got closer.
Without warning, the audio changed to a bubbly digital ringing. Her phone simply displayed the name: Alice From Class.
Caitlyn was half-way to a peak and rolled her eyes. Alice could wait. This should wait.
But the memory of Alice's roving eyes over Caitlyn's body made her notably wetter, and before she could argue with herself, she answered.
"Hey?"
"Cait, it's Alice. Sorry for calling, but I've got to work on my portion of the public policy project tonight since I'll be out of class until it's due. I was wondering if you could help me with the proposal?"
Hearing Alice's voice made Caitlyn uncomfortably aware that she was naked and in a compromising position, as if Alice were there to witness it. Yet, the thought of Alice seeing her like this sent a flash of heat from her chest to her loins.
Against all sense, Caitlyn said, "Sure, let me get my notes."
Perhaps if Caitlyn hadn't held off on masturbating for almost the whole day, she wouldn't feel compelled to multitask in this situation. Nevertheless, she laid her notes out on the bed in front of her and returned to her place, softly gasping at the tender contact.
"I've been researching. I pulled housing cost trends from the last decade. Median rent's gone up 30% in five years--wages haven't kept pace. I was thinking we could start with zoning reform."
For the next fifteen minutes, Caitlyn provided just enough feedback to seem engaged with their discussion, but the subject matter didn't thrill her. It was the sound of Alice's voice that drove Caitlyn to continue grinding herself against the mattress. It was hotter that Alice had no idea.
"You alright? Sounds like you just ran up some stairs," Alice interjected into Caitlyn's haze.
She realized her breathing was loud, uneven. Still, it didn't deter her from moving in a steady pace. Her instinct to lie elaborately was quick. "I'm actually on my Peloton. Have to get my steps in, you know."
Alice laughed sweetly. "Totally. Okay, last thing. Tax incentives..."
Caitlyn didn't hear much more, as she felt the familiar tremors of tension rising in her. She was lost in her mind, envisioning Alice and Caitlyn presenting their project in class, the scene devolving into the girls fucking in front of their fellow students.
"Are you sure? Cait, you sound like you're crying."
She was approaching the apex faster than she anticipated, but stuttered out a response. "Yeah, I...I'm fine, just..."
At that moment, a shameful moan escaped Caitlyn's mouth, unmistakeable for what it was. Alice went silent on the other end. Caitlyn couldn't help but continue, covering her mouth with a hand to keep herself together. The potential consequences of this phone call had not yet made an appearance in her thoughts.
