tw/cw: masturbating, phone sex
you hate being away from matt. hate the distance between you when he's in boston, but he always makes it up to you. always, but not now. not when he's on this damn tour, states away from you and all you can do is hear his voice on the phone call.
it's suffocating; the way you have to wake up in your shared bad alone, him not walking to you from behind and wrapping his arms around your waist while you make breakfast, him not kissing you in the morning. you hate it.
and you hate how you miss him sexually. his hands holding your waist, squeezing it with ease while he pounds into you with incredible pace. or when he whispers sweet nothing in your ear, making you go dumb on his dick. or when—
"babe? you there?" a voice snaps you out of your thoughts. matt's voice. god, you were too deep in your thoughts about him, you completely forgot you're on line with brunette.
"yes, oh—," you shift on the bed, trying to find a comfortable position while feeling a pool to form between your thighs, "sorry, got distracted with a cat outside"
and matt lets you get away with this pathetic attempt of an excuse. he keeps talking about his day, how annoying chris has been for a whole day, how nick has been bitchy, but you cant focus on anything he's telling you. his voice makes you some kind of way, you instinctively slide your hand down your stomach, playing with the hem of your shorts.
little "mhms" and "yeah" leave your lips as you're trying desperately to pay attention to whatever matt's telling you, but you fail miserably. one hand already down there in your panties as you work your fingers on your clit, trying not to give yourself away.
and matt notices; he always does. the change in your voice, the heavy breathing. he goes quiet for a minute, letting you realize that you're in complete silence now and he can perfectly hear everything.
you swallow thickly, trying to maintain some confidence like you're not getting yourself off by the sound of your boyfriend's voice. "so, uhmm.. how— how's chris?" the voice is strained, a little shaky even. you try to sound nonchalant, giving matt topics to talk about.
"actually," he speaks up after a while, "i want to listen to your day, sweetheart. how was it?" a hint of mischief in his tone that goes unnoticed by you.
words stuck in your throat, you clear it and take a deep breath before speaking quietly, "it— it was good.. to be honest—" you cut yourself off, a loud sigh escapes your lips as your fingers working deliberately on the clit, not actually sliding into your entrance.
"to be honest... what?" he smirks to himself already picturing you with your hand in your shorts, touching yourself to his voice. the idea of it is actually amusing to matr, "c'mon, pretty girl, use your words. i wanna hear everything about your day"
and you know he already figured you out, that he heard everything and wants more. another little whimper escapes your parted lips, your fingers caress your clit slowly in a teasing manner, phone pressed against your ear. "matt—," his name on your lips, needy and desperate, makes him grin. matt's hold on his phone only tightens as he shifts on the side of a hotel bed.
"touchin' yourself to my voice, aren't ya, pretty girl?" he teases, his voice quiet, sending shivers down your spine, "keep touchin' like that, lemme hear your little sounds," he encourages you, making you feel more confident as a little moan leaves your lips. the pace of your fingers increases as you pant heavily into the call, whispering matt's name as a damn mantra.
brunette is enjoying this way too much. he stares at the ceiling, whispering the words of guidance and little praises. matt can pick up of the sound of your breathing, how ragged it is when you touch yourself and he cant help, but grins like cheshire car.
"let it go, sweetheart, you can come. only f'me and my voice, yeah?"
a/n: not proofread. english isnt my first language.
