Blaze Erotica - Just a phone call  

__Blaze 46F
14 posts
3/2/2006 9:08 am

Last Read:
3/5/2006 9:27 pm

Blaze Erotica - Just a phone call

He was an exhibitionist... and voyeur. She was a voyeur, though she didn't know it yet. It would be the first of many things he'd teach her.

She found him by chance, out of boredom, while surfing the sex website she had just joined due to dissatisfaction in her own bedroom. She had looked at others that day, musing how males being watched only get a few viewers while females, even if not doing anything, rack up numbers hard to believe.

She watched him for just a bit but there was something about the way he stayed hard, even when he wasn't touching, that made her stay longer than she intended. It also made her wonder what his face looked like had she been on top of him. He was well endowed and had a chest full of hair but kept his face hidden. By the time she was finished watching that day, she had memorized every visible inch of his body and it was he whom she saw in her mind's eye when she came.

It began slowly. She'd log on and immediately tune to the people on cam. She'd only watch if he was on. At times she stayed for hours, he had amazing staying power when teasing the viewers, but she never watched him cum.

He noticed her frequent visits but never said a word. He'd taken a look at her stats but didn't speak to her ever though he got a twinge of excitement whenever he noticed her among the viewers. It was intriguing at first and it was just impulse that made him decide to actually speak to her one day after about a week of being watched. He approached her and they progressed.

After exchanging off-site information, he invited her to watch one day and she did but only until she had to cum, until she couldn't stop herself from touching. She excused herself and left before he could answer her. The next time they saw each other online, he asked why she left so hastily and they tried it again. This time she stayed longer but still, she didn't stay to see him cum. He began to wonder if he had done something wrong. She wasn't like other watchers he'd interacted on IM with. She offered very little encouragement and didn't feed his imagination like other women did. For some reason, he kept starting IMs with her.

She suggested it first. She was insanely curious as to how he would sound or if he made a sound at all. He refused. It wasn't his thing. It made him uncomfortable. It felt forced. Yes, he'd done it before but he still didn't like it. They were all valid reasons but he didn't like not being watched worse though and eventually relented, after a promise from her to not keep his number, assurances that she wasn't a stalker and a pledge to stop if it made him feel uncomfortable. He took the chance. Then something odd happened...

- "Hey..." he said when he answered. He made a note of her name and number on his caller ID.

- "Hi..." she said.

Her word was breathy and soft and laced with desire. He noted genuine arousal in that single word of hers and it surprised him. Normally when one has phone sex it happens pretty gradually, conversation leads to innuendo and before you know it the talk becomes whisper and one thing leads to another... a suggestion... eventually an orgasm. This was different. He felt another tinge of excitement in his balls. "At least her voice isn't bad." - he thought.

- "So you like watching..?"

- "God, yeah..."

Another pang of lust hit him. "Oh my God... she's gonna cum.. I know it." he thought... he was right.

- "Cum for me..." he said and as if the words sent her over the edge, she did. Loudly, gloriously, right there in his ear while she was watching him. - "Do you see how hard this cock is? Do you?" he coaxed and she whispered so urgently, so softly that he knew she was there again.

He listened, marvelling at how easily it was for him to entice an orgasm out of her, surprised at the sound of her aching, the sudden escape of her gasps. He laid his head back and listened, eyes closed, at how a few words and strokes could send this stranger into screaming pleasure. He hadn't even touched her.

She opened her eyes after every orgasm to stare at the picture on the screen. She watched his hand move up and down the length of his shaft and she throbbed. She'd always been comfortable with aural stimulation, she loved to hear a man cum, hear his grunts and breaths. She wasn't prepared for the effect that watching him, coupled with his commands, was having on her. She was soaked and said as much. Her fingers slid over her pussy lips, around her hard clit, down to the opening of her vagina, lower yet to her asshole. So wet that her inner thighs became sticky everytime she closed her legs around the end of an orgasm. Each time she peaked she'd feel the build again and as if by magic, he would encourage her - "Give it to me... I want it.." - and she would. She couldn't stop touching and was so taken aback by the intensity of the session that at times he'd order her to take a break or she'd beg for one. Her body trembled, completely out of control.

He had to stop stroking every so often. Though he was normally a watcher, hearing her kept sending shocks of lust through him and he'd find himself closer to orgasm than he'd like to be. It was better if he held back but hearing her was making it hard for him to do so. He quickly became familiar with her breathing, the whimpers when she was close, the shivering in her voice when she had a particularly intense peak, her hard to understand begging. Sometimes he was afraid she would pass out and he'd stop her. He was enjoying himself so much he almost forgot that he wasn't watching. Sometimes he'd listen, mesmerized by how much she seemed to be enjoying watching him, other times he'd grow bold, imagine her in front of him, tell her what he was going to do, tell her what -she- was going to do. On the times when she'd tell him she was cumming, he'd almost stop stroking completely in order to concentrate on the sound of her orgasm. Sometimes she'd scream, as if the peak snuck up on her, other times her moans and whispers were so soft he couldn't make out what she was saying but he certainly knew how much it turned him on.

Anytime she thought she was spent, that she couldn't cum anymore, she'd lighten her touch and watch him and again he'd stroke the way she liked or he'd tell her to cum and she would press down again, circling her clit until she exploded. The urge, no, the need to be penetrated was unbearable and she begged him to fuck her, asked him for permission to penetrate herself. She wanted to taste his skin, needed to force that cock to its deepest point inside her mouth. Everytime she came she'd close her eyes and her mind would be invaded by visual teases of him stroking. Pictures formed by her own brain because she had so easily memorized him that she only had to close her eyes to picture him -there- with her. She never saw his face but heard his voice in her ear and imagined the feel of his chest-hair crushing her breasts. She thrashed from position so many times that she'd have to squirm down down to be closer to the desk. She was on the floor in front of the computer, watching and listening to a man a thousand miles away bring her more pleasure than any other non-tactile play had ever brought her. She wanted, needed to watch him cum. Everytime she thought his stroke was quickening enough to bring him to orgasm, which made her cum instantly, he'd slow his stroke or grasp the base tightly, putting his gorgeous cock on display. That drove her fucking crazy. She wasn't aware of what she was saying or doing, it was his world and she was just his guest. He had the power to make her cum by command and she was powerless to do anything but obey, even when she pleaded with him.

He couldn't take it much more. She had the ability to make his cock throb with a whisper, the power to make him want to let go with a single statement. - "My God, she's cumming again... how many -is- that? So fucking sexy" - He wished she was there. He wanted to know whether his actual touch would have the same reaction. He wanted to feel each of those orgasms with the flesh of his cock. He wanted to see, hear and feel how wet he made her. Her telling him just made him want it more. His balls grew tighter and tighter the more he touched and listened. More and more he kept his eyes closed until his orgasm was so full and ready that he couldn't hold back anymore.

The change in his tone sent her into a spiral of pleasure so intense that she felt weightless, as if she were falling from high above. Butterflies in her stomach swam roller-coaster loops and she kept cumming so hard and so much that she had no choice but to slip two fingers inside herself, as deeply as she could get them, and she ground her clit into the heel of her soaked hand. She fucked herself into ecstacy, and this time she kept her eyes open to watch him get there with her.

He came with her and the force of the orgasm and the length of the spurts surprised him. Streams of hot, aqueous white sprang out of his cock all over his stomach, his hips, his chest. He was as breathless as she and sweat had beaded on his forehead. His hand stayed wrapped around his softening cock through the after-shocks because it was a bit hard for him to move. - "Jesus Christ..." - he thought - "It was just a fucking phone call..." but in the end, he knew it wasn't.

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