Aural Stimulation by alyse [ - ]
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Category: Primeval > Het > Abby/Connor
Characters: Abby Maitland, Connor Temple
Rating: NC-17
Genres: Established Relationship, PWP - Plot, What Plot?, Romance
Warnings: None

Summary: Phone sex for the win!

Pairing: Abby/Connor

Story Notes:
Many thanks to aithine for the beta.

Written for MMoM.

"So what are you wearing?"

"Abby!" Connor cast a quick glance towards his bedroom door, then, deciding that discretion really was the better part of valour, discretely closed it.

"Come on, Connor. You're passing up the ideal opportunity for phone sex."

He scrunched his eyes closed, trying very hard not to give in to his normal reaction when sex and Abby were mentioned in the same breath, which was to get very hard, very fast.

Abby was laughing in his ear again, all breathy the way she got when she got the giggles, and that wasn't helping. He opened his eyes and stared around his bedroom, like that was going to help. It should do - it had nothing to do with Abby. She'd never been here, to his childhood home. She would probably tease him about the plastic dinosaurs that were still scattered all over the bookcases. She'd definitely tease him about the Return of the Jedi poster he had on the back of his bedroom door.

He wondered if he would be able to persuade her to dress up as Leia when he got back home. He doubted it, but it was worth a shot, wasn't it? She'd never go for the slave girl outfit, but maybe the white dress from A New Hope. Especially if she didn't wear a bra underneath it.


"My mum's downstairs," he blurted out. Damn. That didn't sound at all pathetic. "I told her about you."

"Yeah?" Abby sounded curious. "What did she say?"

She doesn't really believe I have a girlfriend. He didn't blurt it out this time, thankfully. Instead, he said, "Um… I was thinking… maybe next time… Maybe next time I come home you could come with me?"

There was a moment's hesitation on the other end of the line, and he closed his eyes, wondering if he'd crossed some unknown line in their relationship, something that he wasn't supposed to be bringing up yet. There should be a rulebook for this sort of thing - week three, now you get sex. Week twenty-seven, now you meet the parents.

Apparently week eight was phone sex.

"Yeah," Abby said, sounding a little tentative. He thought, anyway. "Yeah, maybe I could."

It wasn't exactly a promise, but it wasn't a refusal. Abby probably knew the rules anyway. He could count on her to keep him straight.

"So…" He could do this. "What are you wearing?"

There went her giggles again. "Maybe I'm not wearing anything, Connor." Her voice was low, teasing, and he closed his eyes again.

"You mean you waited until I go and visit my mum before you started wandering around the flat naked? I'm really disappointed, Abby."

She dropped her voice to a purr. "What would you like me to be wearing?"

Oh, God. That cute little short pants and vest combination, the yellow and pink one that she danced around in when she was feeding her reptiles.

Her chuckle sounded in his ears and he jumped, blood rushing to his face when he realised that he'd said that out loud.

"Okay, I'm wearing that. Now what are you wearing?"

There wasn't anything, he thought. Nothing that did it for Abby the way that… well, pretty much anything Abby did for him. He didn't think so, anyway.

"Um… my robe?" he suggested.

"Anything underneath it?"

The blood rushed to his face again and he prayed that his mum would stay downstairs, think he was still unpacking. The last thing he needed right now was her to come up and offer him another cup of tea.

"Um… no? Unless…?"

"Your gloves," she said suddenly, her voice dropping half a register. "And your hat, maybe."

"Okay." He was a little breathless himself now, eyes wide open, staring at the far wall, above his bed. There was still a little blu-tack on the wall from when one of his posters had come down and he'd never got around to sticking it back up again before he'd left for Uni. He couldn't remember off-hand what it had been, not with Abby breathing in his ear. It was weird, standing here, listening to his girlfriend - his girlfriend - talk dirty to him. "Anything else?"

"Hmmm… Maybe a pair of boxers. Not the ones with Bugs Bunny on them. Just…" Her voice dropped again, sounding wicked and conspiratorial. "A girl likes to unwrap, you know?"


"I'm wearing the Marvin the Martian ones now," he blurted out and she laughed in his ear, warm and Abby like.

"Sexy," she purred, the laughter still clear in her voice.

He cleared his throat, swallowing heavily. "Just that? Hat, gloves… and boxers?"


"What… what am I doing?"

The sound she made this time was thoughtful, and he squeezed his eyes closed again, his free hand moving to his crotch, pressing lightly there. It helped a little to ease the ache her voice caused.

"I think… I think maybe you're touching yourself." She didn't sound like she was laughing now. There was a little hitch in her breath, like the one she got sometimes when he touched her just right. Maybe she was touching herself, right now.

"Are you…?"

There was that little sharp intake of breath again, and he leant his head back against the wood of the door, eyes still closed and picturing her face. Picturing her body, too, if he was honest, in those pants.

"Inside or out?" he asked. His voice came out a little thready, and he squeezed his eyes a little more tightly closed.


"When I'm…" It was embarrassing, the blood rushing to his face, but he got the words out anyway. "Is my hand inside or outside my boxers?"

"Oh!" There was a pause, while she seemed to turn that over in her mind, and then her voice came back, a little rushed. "Outside. At first." He opened his eyes again, looked down to where his hand pressed against his crotch, the heel of his thumb hard against his belly, the pressure just where he needed it. "I… I think you're waiting for me to tell you it's okay. You know. To…"

"Is it okay?" And he could hardly believe that was his voice, low and needy and actually asking.

"Yeah." She sounded wrecked and he closed his eyes again, picturing her the way she'd been that morning, kissing him goodbye. Eyes closed, fingers in his hair while he'd tried to tear himself away. "Are you…?"

His fingers fumbled with the button on his trousers and he slid his hand inside, tracing along the length of his cock through the fabric of his boxers and tried to imagine it was her hand, fingers far smaller but no less strong.

"I'm…" There wasn't an elegant way to say it, so he settled on, "I've got my trousers open," his face flaming and his back pressed up against the door, just in case.

"Oh!" The sound she let out this time was needy, and he wondered if he dared ask again. "Um…"


"I'm trying to… I'm imagining that they're your fingers." The words came across in a rush, as though Abby couldn't hold them in anymore, and his cock twitched beneath his touch as he imagined it too, his fingers slipping into Abby. She liked that, and he loved making her feel good, feeling her tighten around his fingers when she came.

He loved tasting her too, and he never thought he'd like that. He'd thought it was just something you did before you got to the good stuff when, really, anything that made Abby sigh and moan was the good stuff.

He stroked his palm along the length of his cock, still imprisoned in his boxers, and pictured her like that, fingers twisted in the bedclothes, her body tense. He wondered if she was on her - their - bed now, or in the living room, on the sofa, stretched out with her fingers in her cunt.

His face flamed again, and he had to bite back on the whimper that wanted to escape. He slid his hand under the elastic of his boxers now, touching skin, and wondered if Abby was doing the same. He should ask her, but his tongue wouldn't cooperate, his mouth dry.

He swallowed again, this time getting out, "Where…?"

He'd meant, where are you? but she answered, "They're… they're inside me, now, Connor. Your fingers. Two of your fingers."

Oh, Jesus. He squeezed his cock desperately, the phone pressed tightly against his ear as he listened to her sigh.

"Are… are you going to…"

"Yes!" It came out as a sharp little cry, one he recognised. She was close, and he gave in, jerking himself roughly as he listened to her pant across three hundred miles. "Connor!"

He wasn't there yet, not close enough as he listened to her breathing even out as she came down from that high.


"What… what do you need?" She still sounded breathless, a little groggy, and it pushed him a little further on, imagining her face, flushed the way it always was after she came.

"What… what are you doing?" He didn't know if he meant in real life or in her fantasy, or in his. Didn't think it mattered really, not with his hand working his cock and his girlfriend talking dirty in his ear.

"I'm on my knees." The words came rapidly, a little unevenly as she spoke. "In front of you. Do you like that? Connor?"

Oh, God, yes.

"Do you want my mouth?"

Fuck, yes. His breath was coming in pants now, the fingers holding the phone starting to numb as he gripped it tightly. His other hand was stripping along his cock, hot and tight the way her mouth was.

But not wet. He let go long enough to bring his palm up to his mouth, licking along its length and bringing it down again to wrap around his cock. It still wasn't Abby - still wasn't Abby's mouth - but it ramped up the sensation, letting his hand slide more easily, meaning that he could tighten his grip and imagine.

"Okay, Connor." Her voice was steadier now, steadying him too as she eased him towards coming. "I'm on my knees and I'm leaning in to suck you. Do you like that?"


"Are you going to come for me, baby?"

Yes, he was. He was so close, his hand hot and tight and wet around his dick and Abby right there with him, all the way.

He gasped her name as he came, gasped rather than yelled; he'd had plenty of practice wanking off in this room without alerting anyone. But it was better this time, maybe simply because it was Abby's name on his lips when he came.

There was still a box of tissues by the bed, on his bedside table, and he mopped himself up, still holding the phone to his ear and just listening to Abby breathing.

"Connor! Come and get this cup of tea before it gets cold!"

Christ, it gave him a shock and he dropped the tissues, almost dropping the phone as well as it half slipped from his grasp.

"I'm coming," he yelled back, heart still hammering in his chest, and then Abby was losing it, her giggles sounding loudly in his ear. He had to grin, surfing the endorphins and knowing he probably looked like a lunatic.

"Sorry… I gotta…"

"Yeah." Her voice was warm, still giggly, and he couldn't wipe the stupid smile from his face. If his mum asked what had made him so happy, he'd just have to tell her at least some of the truth - Abby. Just Abby.

"I'll phone you tonight?" He didn't have to keep the hope out of his voice anymore. That was the best thing. Well, that and the orgasms.

He could picture her smile as she answered, sounding pleased, "Yeah. I'll look forward to it. Connor…?"


There was a brief hesitation and then she blurted out, "Love you."

And that was the one thing that might be better than orgasms. Even better than phone sex.

"Love you too."

The End