Long Distance
By Gwen Masters

The warm water trickled over my shoulders and down my breasts as I squeezed the sponge. The bubbles in the tub clung to my soapy fingers. It was almost midnight, and I couldn't sleep. Garret was out on the road, performing his music on a stage before thousands of fans right now, somewhere on the East Coast. Virginia, I thought. I hadn't seen him in two weeks and every long day was getting longer.

By now I was accustomed to the long separations that were necessary to his profession. And usually I was strong and independent, able to handle everything on my own. Sometimes, though -- just sometimes -- I allowed myself to break down and feel the loneliness of those long nights. This was one of those times.

I didn't even try to hold back the tears this time. I missed my man.

I don't know how long I lay there. I was there long enough that I had to reach forward and turn on the hot water tap, warming the tub again. When it was close to steaming, I lay back and stared at the flame that danced from the glowing candles.

I was jerked awake by the soft ring of the telephone. My heart pounding with the surprise, I yanked it up from the cradle on the wall beside the big whirlpool tub. "Hello?"

"Hello, baby," a deep voice purred, and I was suddenly infused with joy. Garret! Though I had known him so well for so long, the sound of his voice never failed to send a shaft of joy through me.

“I have missed you so much,” he said, echoing exactly what I was thinking.

”Where are you?” I asked.

"Just south of Charlotte. I'm in a hotel. Wyndham, I think. Nice suite."

"How was the show?" I found the sponge and let the water trickle over my breasts again. It was still very warm. I wondered what time it was. The candles had burned down to almost nothing.

"It was great. The crowd was hot. I snapped a string on the Fender, though."

"Let me guess. It hit you,” I said with a snicker.

Garret laughed his deep, sensual laugh. "Hell yeah, it hit me, and it hurt like hell! Right in the middle of the first number, too."

I smiled. That had to have pissed Garret off. He was always a perfectionist.

"We recovered well," he went on. "And other than some trouble with my mike stand halfway through, we were good to go."

I hummed low in my throat in response. I was waking up now.

"Are you in the bathtub?" Garret asked me.


"Wanna take one together?"

The water taps on his end began to roar. Garret was usually quiet and ready for bed after a good, long show like the one he had played tonight. This time he was in the mood to talk.

He told me of the show, of the rush when the crowd screamed so loudly he could hardly hear his own band, even with the monitors. He told me about the new guitar he was trying out, and how he didn’t think the sound would work well with the usual numbers. He told me about meeting some of the fans after the show, and about the girls who slipped him their phone number while he was signing their T-shirts and CDs. We laughed quietly about that. He knew where he belonged.

Then we didn't speak for a long time. We listened to the soft swish of the water on either end of the line, imagining the other.

"Baby?" Garret said softly.


"Do you think it's worth it? Having that guitar in my arms every night instead of you?"

I stopped moving the sponge and rested it against my heart. How many times had he asked me that? How many times had I given the reassurance he so desperately needed? I missed him more and more as the days went by. The tours had been getting longer. Our time had been growing smaller. Every time that big bus rolled out of town, I cried. It never got easier, playing second fiddle to that guitar of his, but I had come to a point of acceptance. I had known from the beginning that the life he led wasn’t an easy one. I also knew that without that guitar, he wasn’t the man I loved.

"Yes, Garret. It's worth it."

He didn't answer. I closed my eyes and imagined the water falling in little rivers over his chest, wished that my fingers could follow the drops down. I slid the sponge up to my neck and imagined his lips there.

"When will you be home?" I whispered.

"Tomorrow. I'll be there tomorrow."

"For how long?" I asked.

"Four days, this time."

Four days. Hell, I would take four hours. A smile crept onto my face, and I knew it would stay for a long while. Four days in the middle of a tour was a very long time, a special gift to lovers. We wouldn’t leave the house. We would order in. We would sleep in. We might not even get out of bed, until we decided to get into the bathtub and—

"Is the water warm?" he suddenly asked, pulling me out of my dreams of the wonders that could be worked in four days.

”Yes,” I whispered.

"Is it as warm as my hard body inside you?"

I sucked in a breath. Those simple words made my skin flush and my body tingle. We were both naked, both surrounded by the warmth of water and the even warmer thrill of emotion. Oh, the possibilities...

"No. It isn't as warm as you,” I said quietly.

"Good. Do you have that big, fluffy sponge? That yellow one?” He knew I did, and didn’t wait for an answer. “Press it to your throat, baby. Squeeze it and let the water run down. Do it like you would if I were watching you."

I did as he told me to do. The water slid down my chest in a sheet, then in trickles as the sponge emptied. I arched my back and the water swirled around my body.

"I'll bet your hair is pulled up, but some of those curls are free, aren't they? And they are wet, and curling around your neck and your face, just the way I like to see it?"

I grinned. “Yes.”

"And your lips…your lips are covered in that strawberry lip balm that you love so much, and they are glistening in that candlelight, just wanting to be kissed and licked until that strawberry is gone. You always burn candles in the bath. You are, aren't you?"

”Good guess about the candles, but you’re wrong about the lip balm,” I teased. I slid the sponge down and gasped when it bumped over the hard little pebble my nipple had become. I slid it over to the other one and dropped water on it in a stream, hardening it to the point of pain. ”I want you, Garret."

He sighed, a deep sigh of satisfaction from a man who knows exactly how much he is wanted by the woman waiting at home. "Do you know what I'm doing over here, honey, here in this lonely hotel room?" he taunted.

I didn't answer. I knew I didn't have to.

"I'm letting my fingers run over my cock. I put bath oil in the water, and it's slick. I'm not hard yet but I'm getting there. I can feel my cock growing in my hand. You like that don't you, when I get bigger in your hand? Or when I grow in your mouth?"

I bit my lip and moaned in response. My mouth watered with the memory of the taste of his skin. He was warm cotton and sweet sandalwood. I remembered the feeling of his hands in my hair and the way he moaned when my mouth closed around him.

"Touch yourself.” Garret’s voice swam through my memories. “Slip your hand down your belly. Trail that water all over it. Are you using that scented bubble bath I bought for you? The stuff with the big bubbles?"

"Mmmm." I cupped water over the gentle curve of my belly. My fingers slid across silky skin. I heard him moan deep in his throat. "Run your fingers over your chest," I instructed. "And down. Down, into the water. Are you hard yet, Garret?"

His breathing suddenly changed and I knew he was stroking himself. "I am very hard."

"Does that feel good, your fingers sliding over your thick, hard cock?" I asked. “When you come home, I’m going to watch you do that. I’m going to sit at the end of the bed while you watch me and stroke yourself.”

Garret sighed deeply. “I know you like that,” he murmured, and the intimacy of that memory made me smile. I spread my legs in the water. I slid my hands up and down my thighs, holding the phone cradled against my shoulder. My eyes drifted closed. Garret's breathing came harder, and I moaned aloud when my fingers found the lips of my pussy, already so much slicker than the water on my skin.

"Garret...I want you here. I would give anything to have you here."

"You'll have me soon. Right now, do this with me." I heard the water moving and I knew he was arching into his hand.

"That's right,” I whispered slowly. “Buck into your hand. Enjoy it. Make yourself feel good. Remember when I watched you do that?" I slid one finger just inside my lips. I longed to watch him, to taste him, to feel him slide into me like he had so many times before. It always felt new, a surprise of joining that filled my soul as well as my body.

"Tell me what you are doing,” I implored.

Garret's breath was hard and fast. "I'm stroking my cock, up and down, and using my other hand to squeeze my balls…pulling them…" He groaned as he did it. "And I'm touching that spot just beneath them…that place that makes me go crazy. And I'm running my hand up and down, imagining that I'm sliding in and out of your tight, hot cunt. Do that, baby, slide two fingers in. Pretend that it's me."

I slid two fingers deep into my wetness. It was suddenly hard to breathe. Garret sensed the change in me as my blood began to pound through my veins.

"Squeeze me…now," he whispered, and I tightened my muscles around my fingers, pushing them deeper at the same time, driving through the tight canal just as he liked to do with his body. I gasped with the pleasure of it. Garret’s attention was rapt, and I knew he was listening to every little sound I made, hanging on every word with baited breath.

"God, honey…when you do that, I squeeze my cock as hard as you would. Do it again…" I did, and we groaned in unison. "My God, I want to fuck you..."

My desire for him was raging. Tears stung my eyes. I wanted him so badly I could almost taste him. But almost wasn’t enough. “I need you,” I whimpered helplessly.

Garret's voice came gently in my ear. "Do you remember that night in Georgia? At that little bar? The night you got jealous over that groupie that kept hitting on me? Remember the way you fucked me out in the parking lot? You were marking your territory. I loved that, baby. At night when I’m alone out here and you’re at home asleep, I jack off thinking about the way it felt,” he admitted.

“I like knowing you’re mine,” I said.

Garret’s voice was sultry and deep. “And when you suck me off…I love that, too. I love to feel your mouth around me, and your throat, and then you swallow…and it feels like this…" Garret moaned. “Fuck yourself with those fingers, baby. Deep. You like it deep, don’t you?”

I pushed my fingers deep, then moved them in and out harder than before, imagining Garret's hard body slamming into me under the water. I spread my legs wider and drove my fingers deeper with every thrust of my hand against my body. The water lapped at my nipples like his tongue would. The sensation tightened the coil of tension in my belly.

"This water,” I whispered, lost in the thrill. “It feels like your tongue on my nipple…and I can almost feel you fucking me…God, Garret, this feels so damn good."

"Pinch your nipple," he demanded, “You want me to bite it, don’t you? You want me to lick and suck and bite while I slide my cock in and out of you?”

My fingers slid deep. I moaned, feeling that coil of pleasure start to unravel. I was going to come, and I was going to come hard.

"Tell me what you are doing, Garret."

"I'm stroking…and I’m hard as a rock. You would love this. You would absolutely love to be all over this cock right now, wouldn’t you?”

I couldn’t answer. I was too busy imagining this cock, glistening with the water, and wishing it were my juices he was using to please himself.

"You know what I want, baby?" Garret's voice was deep and seductive. "I want your pussy on my cock. Right now. I want to sit here in this bathtub and watch you ride me so slow, the way you like to do. I love the way you grind on me and get me as deep as you can. I love the way you say my name right before you come. And the way you look." 

“How do I look?” I panted.

“Like a goddess,” he whispered. “And sometimes you look like an animal. Especially when we are going at it hard and you slam down on me. I like to feel my come around my cock when I come inside you like that. How wet you get. How hot. It feels primal.”

I moaned and writhed under the water...I was so close. Memories tumbled through my head, one after another, the thrill of making love with Garret always fresh and new. He was an incredible lover and he made me feel like I was, too.

"Baby," he moaned. "I'm so fucking close. I'm going to come so hard like this…imagine how far my come is going to shoot for you. You love to feel that, don’t you? You love to feel it when I fill you up like that?"

That was all it took. I flicked my finger across my clit once. My body exploded.

As always, my own orgasm triggered his. He gasped and I could hear his hand slapping down against the water, slamming his rod through his tight fingers all the way down to the root, the water moving with him.

"Do it, Garret," I whimpered through my own haze of pleasure. "Come for me…"

That set him off. Garret growled low in his throat, the sound ripping from him as his cock spurted. I closed my eyes and imagined the thickness of it, the taste, his balls clenching tight to push it out of him with the pulses of his orgasm. I remembered the feeling of his cock swelling and then erupting in my cunt, and I arched my back as a second orgasm washed over me. Water spilled over the edges of the tub and onto the floor. I hardly noticed.

When I came back down to earth I heard him take a deep breath and let it out with a loud sigh. Then he started to chuckle.

"Garret," I whispered with a smile, my body calming under the waves it had created.

"God, baby, I want that. I want you. It’s just so fucking sexy to hear you whimper like you do. I want more when I get home. I want to hear you whimper like that while I touch you everywhere. Want to? I love it when we do this, don’t you?”

I laughed out loud at his almost childlike appeal.

”Can’t you tell?” I teased, still trying to catch my breath.

”It’s a good thing I had that guitar in front of me tonight. I played our song and I was hard as a rock. It’s been two weeks,” he almost whined.

“Two whole weeks,” I teased, mimicking his whine.  Garret settled back into the tub and the water swished around him. Our hearts slowed gradually as we listened to each other breathe. I heard Garret smile from so many miles away.

"Four days?" I asked.

"Yes. Home tomorrow, baby, and then we'll do this together. All of it. In that big tub of ours, and later in our bed. And then anywhere else we please."

I closed my eyes and felt the molten rush of heat at his words.

"Hurry home to me,” I whispered.

"I will, baby. That big silver bird will be crossing that Tennessee line before you know it."

"Four days..."

"Four long, sweet days."

"And nights, too," I said. He chuckled at the unmistakable happiness in my voice.

I heard Garret pull the drain on the tub. The water gurgled. “Go to sleep now,” he ordered. “Get lots of sleep, because you aren’t getting much when I get back into town.”

I laughed and longed to kiss his face. When we should have said goodbye, there was a silence instead. He didn’t want to hang up the phone any more than I did. He missed me just as much as I missed him.

"I'll be here waiting for you,” I promised. “Waiting right here at home.”

"I know…I know,” he breathed.

“Go,” I whispered gently, and a moment later the connection was severed. I held the phone for a long time after his voice was no longer there.

The water cooled and the candles flickered out one by one, leaving me in darkness. When I finally rose from the tub, I wrapped myself in Garret's thick robe, cuddling into the familiar scent of cotton and sandalwood.

Suddenly the dam of anticipation inside me burst, and I twirled in a happy circle in the bathroom.

“Four days!” I announced to the walls with glee. “Four whole days!”


Copyright 2005, Gwen Masters: All Rights Reserved.