|Blogs > rm_Drishya > Musings and other such things|
Has any of you ever had phone sex? I cannot say that I have done it all that often. But, I can imagine that some people can't seem to live without it. So I concocted this story...
At 10:15 p.m., the phone rings. This happens every night. Always the same time, always the same voice on the other end. I glance at the clock now, knowing how close the call is. My breathing gets heavy, and I am filled with anticipation. He’s going to call me in ten minutes.
It started one night about a couple of months ago. The phone had rung, startling me in the silence of my living room. I’d been curled up on the sofa reading a book. I picked up the phone and breathlessly said “Hello”.
A deep, rich voice on the other end said, “Well, I think I have the wrong number for the person I’m calling, but with a voice like yours, who cares?” I smirked. I got paid for my voice, doing commercials on the radio for things like coffee and chocolate. Then, he jokingly said, “What are you wearing?”
Although he’d had a laugh in his voice to let me know he wasn’t serious, there was something so appealing about him. I decided to be shocking, and told the truth. “A pair of panties and my hair scrunchie.”
After a stunned silence, I heard him clear his throat and mutter something about being sorry for disturbing me. There was a soft click, and he was gone. I’d shrugged and set the phone back down. I had picked the book back up, but it no longer interested me. I stared at the phone, willing him to call me back. Maybe he’d accidentally call me again. I looked at the phone, then told myself how silly I was being, and turned on the television. My eyes returned to the phone. “Ring!” Of course, it just sat there.
Finally, I found something funny to watch on TV, and settled back on the sofa. I wasn’t really into it. Instead, I was wondering to myself what I thought I was going to do if he’d called me back. I wasn’t shy, but I kept to myself. Was I suddenly going to start inviting strange men to my house? How ridiculous... besides, what would I do then? I was twenty-four, and I was a virgin... saving myself for marriage. I went to the freezer and got out a little ice cream. I was sitting on the sofa, slowly lapping the ice cream off the spoon, when the phone rang again. I leapt up to answer it. “Hello?”
That sexy voice was on the phone again, sending a chill down my back. “Hello. Are you at least wearing a smile?” I frowned at the strange question.
“What-“ I started.
“You’re not fully dressed without a smile. That’s what the saying is, anyway. So it stands to reason that if you’re smiling, you might be considered as being dressed.”
I shook my head, the beginning of a snicker escaping my lips. “You called me back, at ten fifteen, to ask if I’m smiling?” It felt really nice to just talk and flirt, even though I had no clue who this was. “So, did you get the right number yet?” He answered that yes, he had, and told me how glad he was that he’d been able to pry himself away from our little discussion, because the call was work related.
“...And now that I have all of that taken care of, I can do anything I like... and right now, I’d like to talk to you, if that’s okay. You sound really nice, if a little too honest with people you don’t even know.” I laughed and told him it was his sexy voice that had won me over, and that I wouldn’t have told just anybody. “Oh, so if I’d called you and sounded (he changed his voice to be scratchy and high pitched) like this, you wouldn’t have told me what you were wearing?” I laughed again, taking another bite of ice cream and licked the spoon.
He heard me take the bite and asked me what I was eating. I told him that I was eating my favorite thing, Heavenly Hash ice cream. We debated about which flavor was the best when I blurted out that mine tasted best on other people. Once again, he was stunned into silence. After a few minutes, he said he had to leave.
The next night, at fifteen after ten, the phone rang. I picked up the phone to hear that honeyed voice asking, “What are you wearing?” This time, I’d been in the shower, and I had just washed the shampoo out of my hair. I was dripping water on the carpet. I told him the situation, and after only a second’s pause, he softly said, “I’d love to lick you dry.”
Suddenly, nothing felt wetter to me than that area between my thighs. I couldn’t say any of the sarcastic jokes that usually rose to my lips. I just sat down on the bed that was next to me, dripping water onto my bedspread. My mouth opened and shut like one of the fish’s in the tank across the room. I heard him chuckle before asking if the cat had suddenly got my tongue.
I told him that it sounded fun to be licked dry. He asked me if I would like for him to lick any place in particular. Stammering, I tried to change the subject. He paused a moment before asking me if he’d misjudged my willingness to talk to him like this. I felt guilty, since I had been the one who had started the sexual innuendoes.
I tried to apologize, grateful that he couldn’t see me blushing furiously. He wouldn’t let me apologize, saying it was his fault. I couldn’t let him do that, so I interrupted him. “No, no. I started it. I just hadn’t expected you to finish it. You see...” I trailed off. He waited expectantly, and I finished, “I wouldn’t know what to say anyway... I’ve never... you know.”He laughed, not in a mean way, but gently. Then after a pause, he asked me if I’d like to continue the conversation anyway. “I understand, and I think it’s great that you’re saving yourself. I think more people should do that, actually. But tell me... do you at least touch yourself?” I was so embarrassed, but figured that over the phone it wasn’t such a big deal.
“Yes.” It was a small, whispered word.
“Nothing to be embarrassed about. Would it make you feel better if I confessed that ever since I first heard that you’d been in the shower, I’d been stroking myself?” It took me a minute to answer him. I was imagining a man sitting at his desk, on the phone with me, touching his dick. I felt my nipples hardening in response to the mental image. “Are you there?”
“Really?” I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Yes, really. And it’s gotten so big and hard, listening to your voice. I bet you are one sexy lady. Since you don’t know what to say, would you like it if I do the talking? Or is this whole thing a bad idea?”
I couldn’t bring myself to tell him to go to hell. I wanted to hear him; his words, his breathing, I wanted to hear him cum. “Please talk to me.”
“Lay down.” I lay back on the bed, swallowing hard. “Now, spread your thighs. When I tell you the things I’m doing, I want you to touch yourself the way you’d think I’d be touching you. Would you do that for me?” He started describing licking me, asking me about my body. First, he described licking my breasts, which are large and soft. He’d sounded thrilled to learn that they were a D cup. He described sucking my nipples, and I softly pinched and rubbed them. They were so hard, they were getting a little sore.
“Now, I’m licking gently down your body, my tongue is dipping into your belly button.” I giggled at this. “Ticklish, hmm? That’s cute, and sexy. Now, I’m licking my way down some more, my tongue is at your pussy lips. I’m tracing it up and down, pressing a little deeper with each lick.” My finger lightly pressed against me, and I could feel the tension inside of me building up. My breath came a little faster. “Now my tongue is there, on your clit. Is it a little swollen, maybe a little wet already?”
“Yes,” I whispered, rubbing it harder as the fluids began to build up. My body was on fire, burning with need.
“Good. Can you feel me licking you there?”
“Yes, and it feels so good!” I sighed.
“I’m glad it does. Oh, God, my cock is so hard right now. I don’t think it can get any harder. I’m going to nut really soon!” He paused a minute to calm down some, then said “I’m licking your clit and sliding a finger into you. I’m moving slowly, pushing it in as deep as I can. Can I hear you do that?” Blushing again, I put the phone down there and slid my finger in and out of me, letting him hear the wet noise before bringing the phone back to my ear. “Oh, you are really wet, it’s dripping down my finger. I have to taste you. My face moves down and I’m just burying myself between your legs. My tongue is plunging deep in you, moving in and out.” I was gasping now, two fingers working in and out of my pussy.
I finally contributed a little to the conversation, feeling a little guilty. “I have two fingers in now, moving in and out of me, I’m really wet, and I think I’m going to cum soon!” It all came out in one breath.
He groaned and said, “Mm, then cum for me, cum all over my tongue!” I came violently, and then I heard him cum, too. We both sat quietly for a few minutes, breathing loudly. Then, we had a little small talk about the weather and traffic, since he was about to drive home to let his dog out. We said our goodnights, and got off of the phone. After that, he’s called every weeknight, always very punctual.
7/18/2005 6:09 pm
I have done this phone sex thing a few times. Always at the insistence of the female. I don't particularly like it much myself. |
However, occuring off of a wrong number like in your story is pretty damn hot. Thanks!