Active Listening

Misty's bent over cleaning the living room when a man's voice pushes through the baby monitor, vulgar as hell. She jumps like she'd been slapped. Heart hammering, she does a quick sweep of every room, doors locked, nobody here. Back in the living room the voice cuts in again and this time says her name. Tyson. Fuck. Married Tyson. He's out screwing around on a date but apparently feeling cocky enough to fuck her head through the monitor instead. Tells her he's got nasty instructions and he's gonna rail her brains out the second he walks in. She freezes, debates, then cums to a decision she only half believes she's making. She drags two fingers down her panties. 'Get those fingers buried,' he growls. Every silence after he signs off leaves her aching worse, legs spread on the couch, breathing hard, waiting for the next command that makes her hotter. The last time he speaks he tells her stay naked till he gets home, so she pulls every stitch off and stretches out on the cushions, heartbeat throbbing between her legs like a dirty little secret she never plans to share.