Another sound crept in. Sam's hand slid down her stomach as she listened closely. It almost felt like Bri giving her yet another form of guidance. After all, how much longer would Sam have waited to give herself that kind of pleasure? Not only was it exactly what she should be doing, there was something also satisfying about the inspiration to play coming from across the phone.
And there was something electrifying about Bri thinking she was alone in her fun. Sam found herself soaking by the time her hand was under her panties, and delaying the immediate pleasure of rubbing her clit, overshot it to slip her finger between her outer lips. Head back on the pillow she wedged the phone against it and her ear, letting her second hand roam and help as needed. Sam's breathing was metered to stay quiet as she could, not that Bri was likely to hear. All this was more than plenty to occupy her mind, let alone consider where it was going, or whether she was okay with it.
Across the phone, a slow, hungry moan shot through Sam's spine. She couldn't hold back. Sam's pelvis arched to meet her fingers once she traced back. Being caught between a secret and a sensation, and knowing it was someone else's pleasure made it feel like Sam wasn't the one touching herself. Her hands roamed more freely than the usual rub. Her body moved and kicked sheets as much as her anchored head would allow. And when a new, sticky sound became faintly audible, Sam groaned quietly and turned the volume up, desperate for details, ready for a build up before the orgasm.
From the sound of it, Bri was in no rush. The stickiness didn't get louder, but more...thorough? It was as if Bri was relishing the mess she was making, rubbing it around. When it dawned on Sam what was going on, at first it made her press into the surge her clit felt, rubbing a little harder. As the pleasure spread through her however, Sam remembered the excuse that got her touching herself, and it dawned on her. For the first time while masturbating, instead of fueling her orgasm, Sam lifted her finger off her clit and did exactly what she imagined Bri doing. She spread two then three fingers over the surface of her pussy, gently plunging between the lips and rubbing until soon enough she could hear two sources of a sticky mess. And then she tried to get hers in sync with Bri.
The Eureka moment was a new level of turning her brain off. She wanted to feel what Bri's pussy felt. She wanted to feel what Bri's hands were doing. So Sam imagined it was Bri touching her. The surge which Sam would've previously interpreted as an impending orgasm turned to a boil, something electrifying, something empowering. She was filled with desire, and determination, linking her hands actions as best as possible to the sounds she was hearing. She gritted her teeth.
Across the phone, Bri's hand was getting a little sore, so she switched. This allowed her to moan on her sticky fingers while her other hand took over. Masturbating was a well-discovered pleasure for her, and frankly Bri cherished her Friday evenings alone, when she wasn't dating. But she wasn't dating, and the thought of something deep inside her, coupled with her strong hand taking over, led to two fingers plunging deep inside her, and the other hand grasping the sheets right next to the phone.
Sam heard the ruffling, and the sharp moan, and knew Bri was getting close, and maybe picking up the action. She brought her other hand over, not sure what was happening. Bri's moaning turned more determined and paced. She was building up. One on her clit and one teasing her pussy, Sam felt herself tumbling toward an orgasm, too. Uncontrollably. And true to form, Sam found herself echoing Bri's moans, quietly. The restraint was an added pleasure, though torturous.
Bri was fucking herself. As hard as she could. Panting, squeaking her bed, drowning out any possibility of hearing the other end of the phone even if Sam got louder. She was getting closer and closer, desperately pushing her fingers deeper into herself. Finally, the orgasm hit her, sending her over the top with a throaty groan, one hand clenching the bed as she shot her hips up into her other hand, then collapsed back onto the bed, bouncing her phone onto the floor.
Sam wanted this. She wanted Bri's hands on her pussy making her throb until she came. She pictured the confident woman fingering her, and Sam put her back into it. And when she heard Bri climax, Sam went flying over the edge, and her orgasm came uncontrollably, right after.
As aftershocks rippled through Sam's body, she heard the thud on the other end of the phone. Each wave following her orgasm let a small whimper out of Sam, between gasps for breath. Her hand sore, her mind racing, her body exhausted from thrusting and submitting and liberating itself. And then a surge of fear overcame her. She needed to end the call. But what a delicious phone conversation to end.
The sound of her phone hitting the floor snapped Bri back to reality. Not again! I hope I didn't break my screen she thought. Bri rolled over to see her phone still in tact, but lit from the impact, revealing an ongoing call with Sam. Just as Bri picked up the phone it let out a soft moan, and the call ended.
As Sam regained composure and considered what had happened, she started to feel a little guilty about the voyeurism that gave her such an orgasm. She didn't want anything to come between her and Bri, like, get weird or anything, but she also didn't want a secret to be between them. She'd had a long week, of course it made sense that the sound of masturbation turned her on. All she needed to admit was that she happened to masturbate at the same time. Not a big deal. She'd call Bri in the morning and thank her, really. Maybe ask her for tips.
