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The Phone Call Ch. 01

By: JackAndElle



Elle Niklaus unlocked the door and ran into the house. What an hour ago seemed like a perfect day for a run in the Park, turned into a flood of biblical proportions. Now she was soaked.

She took a look at the shoe rack. Good. Only hers and Jack's shoes were there. So Lisa and Josh were still out of the apartment. Good. With Jack gone to Seattle, she was all alone. Elle begun striping the now thoroughly wet pieces of clothing.

She was a slim, leggy, 24 year old, taller than average at 5'10". Her long, curly auburn hair cascaded to just beneath her shoulders. The slightly freckled face and a wide illuminating smile gave off that all-American girl next-door appearance: pretty, cute, unpretentious. Her eyes were big. Brown. Deep. They made her seem so innocent, as if she'd blush at the mention of topics a mid-western family would consider inappropriate. Sometimes she still would. Growing up on a Wisconsin farm does leave marks.

"Fuck," Elle thought. She looked down at her shoes. Ruined.

Elle was far from the innocence of Wisconsin, living in the City. An EEEB Ph.D. student at Columbia, she shared a small one-bedroom in Morningside Heights with Jack. Jack and Elle met three years ago in Seattle; he was a student at the University of Washington, she was visiting from NYU. The chemistry between the dreamy 6'4" blond engineer and the wide-eyed girl from Wisconsin was instant. A year long long-distance relationship followed. Then applications to grad schools. And finally, moving in together, here in New York.

Three years later, they were still happy and love, just like the first day they met. Even though they'd deftly deflect answering the inevitable question, everyone knew it was only a matter of when, not if, Miss. Niklaus will become Mrs. Holmes.

"Damn!"

Elle growled as her iPhone fell out of a pocket of what used to be her shorts. Now, that item of clothing seemed like a rag out of a late night commercial. The one you didn't want to have.

The phone was swimming in a puddle of water. Dead. Drowned. God knows if will ever work again.

"Fuck."

Elle continued extracting herself from the wet clothes. Her shorts and panties peeled off in one go, exposing the milky white skin below.

At least there was one positive aspect of the soaking: the wetness mercifully soothed the burning sensation left by the morning's wax job. She looked down at herself. The always neatly trimmed patch of hair that used to cover her feminine triangle was now completely gone. Looking back at her was nothing but the creamy whiteness of her skin.

"Not bad. Not bad at all," Elle thought.

She moved her hand. Her fingers begun tracing a path from her navel, over the newly hairless pubic mound, to her crotch. They gently caressed, then dipped, between her pussy lips. They were still blushed, swollen and sensitive from the hot wax and Ms. Figueira's determined tugs. And smooth. Perfectly smooth.

Elle smiled.

She bent over just slightly, taking her hand behind her back. The palm hovered slowly across her rear, reaching her freshly exposed pucker. She probed it gently with each finger, the tips looking for a slightest sign of friction around the delicate piece of flesh. Finding none, they backed away. She continued the search in the valley between her perfect, round, buttocks.

Nothing. Smooth. Perfectly smooth.

"This Brazilian was worth every single penny," she said to the empty room.

At the same time, it frustrated her. Still two more days until the newly bald pussy and ass would see some action. God!

Elle continued to undress. The shirt and training bra were gone next, releasing her perky 32C breasts from their embrace. They bounced around happily, relishing their newfound freedom. Elle removed her socks and begun walking towards the bedroom. Cold from the rain, she could really use a hot shower. Her long dark nipples, protruding from the large pink aureole, hardened as if to signal agreement.

A familiar buzz stopped her. Her iPhone!

Left for dead, drowned, it wasn't so dead after all. Well, at least there's some good news. Elle walked back and picked it up. It was Lisa.

Lisa was Elle's best friend and office mate in grad school. She was also her and Jack's temporary house mate. The apartment where Lisa lived was being repaired after a busted pipe flooded it completely a few weeks ago. The repairs were to take a week, but the flood revealed even more issues. Cheap housing in New York: you get what you pay for. What were to be days first turned into weeks, and now into more than a month. Elle was afraid to ask what the current estimate was; she doubted that even the repair men knew, let alone Lisa. But truthfully, she didn't mind. She liked having Lisa around.

Lisa was an only child. Smart, bordering on brilliant, the 23 yr. old Irish girl was born in Arizona but raised in South Boston. A Southie and a Harvard graduate, she was fiercely proud of both. She'd show up to football games in full Crimson regalia, challenging anyone who objected to "bring it on".

She looked more like a bar brawler than an Ivy League grad with her boyish, stalky, 5'6" frame that carried noticeable but toned packs of muscle. Her long reddish-brown hair was always kept tied in a pony tail, covered by an oversized Red Sox hat. She always wore baggy clothes, and couldn't care less about makeup, lipsticks, manicures, pedicures, waxings, any kind of hair removal, creams, cosmetologists, or anything else that "normal" women would consider a part of their routine. Like she just didn't care. 

But Elle knew better. Lisa's tomboyish personality that she so fiercely exuded to the outside world was only a mask. Beneath it was hiding a shy and sweet, borderline naive, young woman who grew up in Boston's Irish ghetto and had to make it in life mostly by herself. She grew up to be tough. She never allowed her self to be a girl, to show weakness. That was a part of it.

Lisa was insecure about her looks. Elle knew this very well. She was the closest to a big sister that Lisa has ever had. Many times Elle had to listen to the long lists of Lisa's complaints about her body. Her legs were too short, her chin was too big, her boobs were too small, her arms were too hairy, etc., etc. Some women would compensate with makeovers or surgeries. Lisa just pretend not to care and went to the opposite extreme.

The thing that always baffled Elle was that none of it was true. Ever since the first time she saw Lisa, without the hats, without the baggy clothes, with no grandmaish underwear, she found her to be one of the most attractive women she ever knew.

The first time Elle saw Lisa naked was in the gym, showering. She gasped at the sight of her nude body. She found it stunning.

What seemed like tiny breasts when hidden by a hoodie, transformed into two harmoniously shaped B cups, topped by large pink aureole. They were accentuated by tiny brown nipples, like two chocolate pebbles. They rested on a petite, yet perfectly toned frame, that flowed into a wide pelvis and delicate feminine cleft framed by two athletically carved legs.

But Lisa's best asset, by far, were the two luscious, curvy, hemispheres that were her buttocks. It was as if a Brazilian carnival goddess was transformed and hidden into this American girl, to be discovered and had only by those worthy of such bliss.

Elle shuddered at the thought. "Bad Elle! Bad, bad Elle!" she thought, trying to calm down and answer the phone.

"Hey Lisa, what's up?" Elle said into the still dripping phone.

"Hi Elle, not much. I'm in the office, waiting for the downpour to end. Everybody left by now. Josh is not answering his phone. I'm bored... What about you? Are you home yet?"

"Yeah. And soaked. I got caught in the rain the minute I ran out to jog. So now, I'm cold, my phone looks like an aquarium, and my running shoes are ruined!"

Elle sounded as if she was about to cry.

Lisa chuckled at the description of her friend's misery. Watching the downpour through her window, she could imagine how bad it would be to venture outside. Elle really had to be soaked. But she also new there were other things that bothered Elle. That really frustrated her. It was not the rain, or the shoes, or the phone. It was her boyfriend Jack.

Or lack thereof, to be exact.

Jack's been in Seattle with his friend Mark for nearly two weeks now. With each day of his absence Elle was growing increasingly frustrated by, how she used to put it, "having no one to service her". And judging by what Lisa used to hear, while futilely trying to fall asleep on the couch in the living room, Elle needed (and got) some serious servicing while Jack was around.

The steamy bedroom audio would make Lisa even more frustrated about her own predicament. Josh, her boyfriend since freshmen year, moved to New York with her when they graduated. He got a job at a bank. Entry level, but a good job. Then, after only few months, he said he's had enough. He went back to Harvard, for an MBA, leaving her in New York, making their relationship long-distance. The separation hit hard. The adjustment to seeing him so rarely was hard. But over the months, they've learned to cherish the little time they had together. The weekend visits, the holidays, the breaks.

Fortunately, now was one of those times: spring break. It was an opportunity for Josh to drive down from Boston and stay an entire week. As Jack was away, Elle didn't mind him coming over. She even let the two of them sleep in her bedroom, taking the living room couch herself.

"Hope the bedroom serves you well," Elle said, with a devilish smile and a wink that conveyed unmistakably she wasn't talking about a good night sleep. Then she added in a whispery voice: "I'll be listening..."

That was Elle: a straight-talking, gossipy vixen with her girlfriends; a nice country girl to the rest of the world. Plus, it was obvious that Jack's absence was making her sex crazed. Even more than usual.

When Josh arrived, Lisa decided to have her vengeance for weeks of listening to Elle and Jack going at it. That night she summoned her inner porn star, moaning and screaming at the top of her lungs: "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, oh god, fuck me with that huge cock!". Lisa nearly burst out laughing at the sound of her words, but kept it up. "Josh, Josh, Josh, yes, yes, yessss..." And, the pinnacle of the performance: "Yesss... Cum in my mouth, I want to suck you off, oh yes, yes, Josh!"

Josh didn't seem to mind her sudden need for vocalization; he actually appeared turned on by it. Ah, men and their porn star fantasies. He did get worried, though:

"Hey. Do you... Do you think Elle heard us?"

"No honey, no way. I slept on that couch every night for the past month, and trust me, you can't hear a thing from there."

And the Oscar goes to Lisa Dukes, for the most convincing postcoital lie, ever.

Tomorrow morning Lisa found Elle making coffee in the kitchen. Elle just looked up at her, but didn't say a word. Her face revealed nothing. Was she mad? Moments passed in silence. Finally, Elle picked up her coffee cup and slowly walked up to Lisa. Leaning towards her, she suddenly and without warning pinched and squeezed Lisa's nipple while whispering to her ear: "You one lucky bitch!"

Lisa yelped in surprise. Then they both burst out laughing. And Lisa decided to keep up with the nightly torments.

"Arrghhh!"

That was Elle, on the other end of the line. The woman's shriek snapped Lisa out of her daydream. "OK, let's tease Elle a little," she thought. "It will take her mind off the weather, at least."

"You sure it was the rain that's made you wet? Not thinking about Jack?" Lisa asked in the most innocent voice she could muster.

For a moment, Elle was taken of guard by the question. Then she smiled and erupted in mock rage.

"You bitch! You noisy spoiled little bitch! Easy for you to tease me like that. You've got that stud of yours to keep you entertained and my Jack is not here!"

Lisa was snickering; her arrow hit the mark.

Elle wasn't finished. "And whatever it is you two people are doing in my bedroom should be banned. Banned! I should kick you out. No one should be fucking in Elle's bed when Elle is getting none!"

The women burst out laughing. They both knew what that last sentence referred to. Their thoughts flashed back to a couple of nights ago, to the pinnacle of what may have been the most daring of Lisa's nightly performances. "Josh, Josh.... Fuck me, fuck me on my best friend's bed! Fuck me on Elle's bed! Yes, Jack, fuck me where Jack fucks Elle!"

"Ohh, I'm sorry! I didn't think anyone could hear us," said Lisa, offering the most insincere apology of her life.

"Yeah, right!" snapped Elle with mock indignation.

"And I'm so sorry Jack is not around. Maybe I should lend you Josh for a night? My throat is getting a bit sore from all the... talking," she replied, still playing innocent.

Elle was laughing. "Very funny, very funny you little bitch. Be careful what you wish for. I'm so desperate I might whack him over the head, chain him to the bed, and get myself some of whatever you've been getting that made you talk like that."

Lisa was laughing at the other end, obviously entertained by her friend's exasperation. 

"Bitch," Elle thought. But she knew how to get back at her.

"You know, I could have easily done it this morning. But since I am a good girl and such a nice friend, I decided not to."

"What?" Lisa asked confusedly, still snickering at the thought of Josh chained to the bed. Mental note: she should try that some day.

"Wait. Let me get a towel and then I'll tell you. You caught me standing naked right in the middle of the fucking living room! I don't want to shock your dear Josh for the second time today."

Shock? The second time today? What is this woman talking about?

Elle walked into her bedroom and took out a towel. As she bent over to reach the bottom drawer, her nude body reflected in the large mirror on the opposite wall. A smile came to her face. This was the first time she saw the new her. Her bare waxed ass was glistening, its crack still red from the morning's treatment. Her pair of long legs, the thick pink pussy lips protruding between them. "They really do seem bigger with no hair. Puffier..." she thought. "I should have done this years ago." She touched herself once more to feel the newfound non-compromising smoothness. A soft gasp escaped her lips. This begun to turn her on.

Ahh, there it is. The towel. "Now where's my..."

"You know, I held your Josh's cock in my hand this morning," she matter-of-factly and without warning said as she picked up the cell phone.

"You WHAT?!"

"I. held. your. boyfriend. Josh's. COCK. in my hand this morning." she repeated, pausing after each word and accentuating the word 'cock' by making it sound like the pop of uncorking a champagne bottle.

Lisa went silent, unsure how to respond. This obviously had to be another one of Elle's little games or double entendres, but she wasn't sure if she found it funny or not. She remained quiet, thinking about it.

Sensing her friend's tension, Elle moved to defuse the situation. "Don't worry, it's more innocent than it sounds... Although, factually, it is correct." She chucked wickedly.

"I ran into Josh this morning in the bathroom..." she continued to explain, "... and I mean literally ran *into* him. I returned from the morning run. I had my headphones on, couldn't hear anything but the music. I didn't think anyone was in the apartment, let alone the bathroom. Completely forgot you guys were staying here."

"So I walked right in and crashed straight into the poor naked Josh. He must've just gotten out of the shower. He was all wet and fully clothed in his birthday suit and nothin' else..."

By now Lisa was back from her initial state of shock. She felt disturbed, but decided to play along.

"And so you just had to go for his cock?" she asked with disapproval in her voice, meant to be mock, but sounding awfully genuine.

"No, I didn't take advantage of your boyfriend," Elle exclaimed. "As I crashed into him, we both slipped and fell to the floor. And falling down, I reached out for... for whatever I could grab onto. It really was an accident. I was totally embarrassed and let go as soon as I figured out what's happened. I screamed and ran out. I'm pretty sure I freaked Josh out. He's been hiding from me the whole day!"

Lisa was still quiet. Elle became concerned. Did she go too far with her teasing? She was telling the truth. But even Elle new there were limits, and maybe this time she crossed them. Lisa's voice dissolved her fears.

"My poor little Josh, he got molested by his girlfriend's best friend. I'll have to give him some therapy tonight. Now that he's been so traumatized, we may have to be louder during the 'therapy' sessions from now on... I'll may even have to pretend to be his molester and make him punish me for my misdeeds."

Elle chuckled at the thought. "You bitch. Don't you dare do that to me!"

"Oh really? Was it me who tried to pull an accidental hand job on her friend's boyfriend?"

"I didn't try to pull anything!!!" Elle yelled in her defense. "But," she muttered grumpily, "he could have me then and there given how horny I generally am these days. And I do have to say he packs quite a piece for his size. Mmm...."

Her voice tapered off as she relived the brief moment between the realization she was squeezing Josh's cock, and letting it go and running away. It must have been, what, 6 1/2 inches? Seven? And at least an inch and a half thick. She could barely wrap her hand around it. And hard... Warm... Not bad for a guy an inch shorter than Lisa. As these images swirled through her head, a familiar sensation tinged Elle pussy.

"Bad Elle, bad Elle!" Lisa chided her gently. She empathized with her friend's obvious horniness. Only now she truly began feeling sorry for Elle; that woman needs to get laid, and needs it fast.

"Well, he was naked, I was holding his thing, and how could I not look! Come to think of it, the only reason all of this could ever happen was because he had a huge hard-on! Now, how could he have one of those, Lisa? Have you been neglecting him?"

Now it was Lisa's turn to be in the spotlight. "Of course I haven't!" was to be her response, but honesty took over.

"Well... maybe a little.... and not for much more... And it's not my fault! It's mother nature... You know-"

"You got a period! YOU GOT A FUCKING PERIOD!? Fucking unbelievable. You've got a period and have an obviously horny guy here who could fuck you, while I'm horny as hell and my guy is four thousand miles away. Fucking unbelievable."

Elle wasn't faking any of the disbelief and frustration. She couldn't make her mind whether to laugh or cry at the irony. The new information did explain the silence in the bedroom the last couple of nights.

"Don't you at least give him blowjobs?" she continued.

"Elle!" Lisa yelped, surprised by the query directed at her.

"Oh, c'mon little Miss Sunshine, don't be a prude now! How long have we known each other? You know everything there is to know about *my* sex life. And you've told me everything about yours and on more than one occasion. Remember? Not to mention I've heard all of it over the past few weeks!"

Elle was now enjoying her new offensive role. She felt Lisa squirm under the barrage of her words. And squirming, Lisa was. As usual, Elle was right - the two of them talked about their sex lives just like they talked about everything else. But when Elle started talking about blow jobs, Lisa knew where her friend's line of questioning will ultimately lead. And this was making her uncomfortable.

But Elle was undaunted: "C'mon... I really don't mind hearing some more. In spite of my complaints, it's comforting to know at least my friends are getting some. Which brings me back to my question: did you at least blow him this morning? Or did I interrupt Josh jerking off in the shower?"


The Phone Call Ch. 01



Lisa gave up. This conversation will be about sex, and sooner or later Elle will try to make her point. Again. OK, Elle, let's play.

"Yeah, I did blow him this morning," Lisa said with newfound confidence. "I was the first one to wake up, and I went down on him as he was still sleeping". This was completely untrue. But it made for a better story.

"Really?? Go on! I want details!" Elle instantly forgot that she started this to tease Lisa. Now she was genuinely interested. And more then a little turned on.

"Well, we started in the bed, but then SOMEONE interrupted us. 'cause SOMEONE had to pick up some stuff from the bedroom. Remember?"

Elle remembered. She had to get changed and dressed for her morning run. Oops!

"So we got out of your bedroom, and while you were dressing in there or whatever to hell it was you had to do, I dragged Josh to the kitchen, pulled his bottoms off, and gave him hand job right there on the kitchen counter." That part, was true.

"Lisa! On the kitchen counter? Ewww. I'm trying to decide whether I'm disgusted or turned on."

Elle was turned on. Definitely turned on.

"But, of course, you had to come out just at the worst moment, and ruin that as well. He barely managed to pull his pants back up before you turned the corner. By the time you finally made yourself scarce I had to run to a class leaving Josh... you know... excited"

There was a moment of silence as Elle imagined her friend's hand working a dick in her kitchen. Wow. Hearing it from Lisa made it so unexpectedly sexy. Imagining her little hand pumping Josh's cock... Massaging his balls...

Lisa's giggle brought Elle back to reality. She cleared her throat. "Really? And you just left him hanging? Damn, that was cruel! Couldn't you at least finish him? Give him a quickie? You know, suck him off?".

As she completed the sentence, Elle's mind was again conjuring the images of Josh's cock. Thick... Throbbing... hard... pointing in the air, waiting for a mouth to give it release. Lisa's mouth. No. Her mouth. Subconsciously she moved her fingers towards her pussy.

She heard another chuckle from the other end of the line.

"Oh no, that's not the way it works with Josh. He won't cum for, like, 20-30 minutes, no matter how quick a quickie you try to give him."

Lisa's voice exuded with pride as she said that.

"You're kidding! You've never told me that... You're making it up!".

"A girl has to have some secrets. But seriously, I'm not making it up. When Josh gets hard it takes him, like, half an hour to cum no matter how we... you know... fuck. That's if we haven't had sex for some time - otherwise, it takes him even longer. The quickest I've gotten him off was in some twenty minutes. And that was with me riding him and talking dirty, while he had this disgusting porno flick on the TV in the background."

Another white lie.

Lisa didn't think the porno was disgusting. She found it arousing. Very arousing. She just wasn't prepared to admit it to her friend just yet. Or to herself.

In a sultry voice, she continued: "And after Josh cums: he just stays hard. Like nothing happened. If he continues to fuck me, he stays hard until he can cum again, maybe, an hour later."

Lisa was beginning to feel the effects of the sex talk herself. Her nipples hardened at the thought of the long fucking sessions with Josh. And she was talking real dirty, at least by her standards.

Elle's mouth was drying up. "OK, now you're just teasing me. There's no way a man can fuck, cum, stay hard, fuck, and cum again! No way...."

"Yes there is, there is..." Lisa replied dreamily, as her hand gently squeezed her nipple through her blouse and bra.

"Holy shit... The next time I run into him into the shower I am going to fuck him!", Elle yelled out.

Her fingers were now stroking her pussy. The wetness between her legs had nothing to do with the rain. She launched into a rant:

"You lucky bitch! I hate you, I really do. First, you've somehow managed to get yourself a sex machine, a fucking walking dildo. Then you brought him to my house, and you two fucked like crazy for days. Now you can't fuck him because of your period. All the while you have a best friend who's hurting, and you object when I accidentally touch his junk? You should be sharing him with me!".

That last part was meant to be a joke. But Elle was surprised at how honest it sounded.

Lisa was finding her new upper hand amusing. And more than a little exciting. Her tiny nipples were now hard as rocks. She rubbed them. The arousal in Elle's voice was plain and unconcealed. She was slowly becoming aware that this phone call was turning into soft-core phone sex between friends, with her absent boyfriend playing the role of the virtual gigolo. What would that make her? His pimp? She smiled at the thought. She decided to up the ante.

"Oh, poor Elle ..." Lisa said mockingly, "... if I lent you Josh, what would you do to him? Would you treat him nicer that I did this morning? Would you finish him? Would you make him cum?"

Lisa's eyes grew wide as her voice rang on in her head. Fuck! Did she just say that?

Elle didn't have to think much. The hand working her pussy had already transported her to a place in her mind where she was kneeling before Josh, her lips clasped around his cock, sucking it with wanton abandonment.

Lisa thought she heard her friend moan. Is she... Is Elle touching...? Lisa continued:

"So... would you fuck Josh? And would you lend me Jack in return? Should we be sending our boyfriends to each other on those days in the month? Should they be fucking us both?"

"Oh my God, what did I just say?" Lisa gasped as her words registered in her mind. At the same time, she felt a sting in her pussy at the thought of Jack. Close to her, touching her... Her arrows were now hitting close to targets she didn't even know existed. She heard another moan from Elle. She couldn't make herself stop:

"So tell me, Elle, what would you do to my Josh?"

The taunts flipped a switch in Elle. Her self control was gone. She screamed in response:

"I would suck him! I would suck his balls while I jerk him off! I would lick them until they're swimming in my spit! I would go down on him and suck him hard while I played with my pussy!"

Did she just say that to Lisa? Oh God! Was she going too far? No doubt about it. But Elle's aching pussy, now furiously massaged by her fingers, prevented any thought of changing course. The torrent of smut, interrupted only by shallow breaths, continued to spew out of her mouth.

"I would stuff his cock down my throat. I'd make Josh cum in my mouth. I'd make him fill my mouth with his cum. I'd love his cum. I'd swirl it around. I'd swallow it. I'd go back for more. I'd lick it. I'd drink it all. I'd squeeze his balls until I sucked him dry. I'd ...."

"Elle!!! Stop!" exclaimed Lisa in disbelief, shocked by her friend's untamed lust towards her boyfriend. Shocked, but turned on... even more.

Elle stopped.

"Sorry."

She was still breathing heavily. She was wound up beyond belief.

No. 

She couldn't stop, not now! She counterattacked.

"Damn you Lisa! Don't be a prude with me now all of a sudden! You're the one who got me like this! You're the one who teased, who asked!" she wailed in deep breaths. The tone of her voice, the desperation, made it clear she was pleading to be allowed to continue. To be allowed to finish. To make herself cum.

"Besides, I remember some pretty graphic scenes coming out of your filthy little mouth. Scenes that involved Jack!"

Both women's thoughts ran to a night of bar-hopping that ended with way too much alcohol... and honesty. Touche.

Embarrassment came over Lisa. "But... I... But I was drunk!"

"I don't have to be drunk to admit my desires!" Elle fired back.

Silence fell upon the room. Elle was again stroking herself, taking deep breaths. Another moan escaped her mouth. Lisa was in still shock, her mind jumping from the memory of herself saying all those things about Jack, to the image of her boyfriend's balls being emptied in her friend's throat.

"God... How did we get here?" she thought to herself.

She didn't know. But they were there. As if it had a mind of its own, her hand slipped beneath her blouse, unclasped her bra, moved it out of the way. It cupped her breast. It found the sensitive button at the center of the pink bullseye, now unshielded by the soft fabric of her bra and blouse. Lisa squeezed it. It was her turn to moan.

"Anyway... to continue..." said Elle, her breaths getting shorter, strokes more concentrated, all caution thrown to the wind. "Your boyfriend Josh.... will be cumming deep in my mouth. I will not spill a drop. I will swallow him all. I will knead his balls as I drink from his long, thick, hard... always hard... cock...". She again emphasized the word cock with a pop that only enhanced the aroma of lust and pleasure betrayed by her voice.

Lisa's hand temporarily left her blouse. She was now rummaging through the piles of clutter on her desk, looking for something. Where is it... WHERE IS IT?! There! She placed the headset across her left ear, and switched the cell phone to hands-free mode. She will need her hands for other things. This is all so out of control...

The newly free hands moved to completely unbutton her shirt. It fell to the floor. Her bra too. She stood up for a moment to quickly unzip her pants. They nestled around her ankles. She sat back, with only the thin white panties separating her from the cold leather of the office chair.

Through the headphones, a now unrecognizable roar of animal lust continued: "And when he's done cumming... I'll make him return the favor and eat me out. I'll make him eat out my pussy. I'll make it love it. I'll make him eat out my ass... I'll make him eat out my shaved, waxed, smooth, pink, asshole! Did you know I got waxed this morning Lisa? I had all of my pussy waxed, all of my ass. My pussy and asshole are now completely hairless and smooth. I'm touching them.... They're so sensitive. Oh... Lisa, I wish you could see it. Oh God! I'll have Josh run his tongue over my asshole. Yesss. I'll have him eat me out. I'll have him stuff his dick there. In my ass! Oh God... Oh... oh... Yesss... YESSS!!!".

And with that last thought, Elle came.

Lisa was stroking her clit. This was way beyond girl talk. She could hear her friend cumming over the phone, telling her how she'd fuck her boyfriend. Describing how she's touching herself. How she wants Lisa to see her. How she'd make Josh eat her out. Eat out her...

"Oh god, I can't even think it!" Lisa thought. This was the place she hoped Elle wouldn't go to. But it made her so excited, so turned on to be there. Her tongue had turned to cotton. She could barely speak.

"Elle... you're so dirty. Ahh..!" was the only thing she could muster in response. It sounded more like an invitation than a voice of disapproval.

Elle was still trashing around in the throws of her orgasm. "Fuck my pussy! Fuck my ass! My ass... Ohhhh....". The orgasm finally begun to subside.

Lisa was listening. "So.. dirty... so... eat her... eat her a..." she whispered repeatedly, her eyes shut, in a trance. She was imagining them as her hand fondled her pussy. It was dripping. "God Elle... how can... how can you think of something like that?... Ohh..."

A minute had passed before Elle begun regaining the awareness of her friend's gasps. She heard her questions.

"It's called 'ass', Lisa." Elle continued in a smooth, steady, sexy, voice, still fighting to regain her breath. "Until you've had a guy go down on your ass... on your dirty little hole... you won't know what you're missing."

Lisa moaned loudly on the other side. But Elle was not done yet.

"And... until you've let a guy fuck it, you definitely don't know what you're missing."

There it was, explicitly said. This was a recurring topic of conversation between the two women, one that Elle kept bringing up, and one that Lisa dreaded. Never in her life did she do anal. She was curious about it. But scared.

Scared she wouldn't like it.

Scared Josh would.

Scared it would hurt.

Scared she'd love it.

Terrified she'd love it.

Ashamed to love it.

Elle sensed her friend's excitement overwhelming her inner conflicts. She sensed her own pussy tinging, again. "Oh God! What's happening to me? What am I doing?" she thought.

But she continued, steadily and softly, seductively. "Lisa... honey... you should have your ass fucked. You should have Josh fuck you in the ass. Fuck you good. Why not? Who are you waiting for? You're obviously head over heals in for him. You'll marry him and have his babies. Do you plan to have a conservative little virgin ass forever? I bet he'd love it. I know you'll love it. You'll love it so much..."

Every time Elle said "ass", a thunderbolt of pleasure struck Lisa's clitoris. The fingers of her right hand continued massaging her pussy, while the left one was furiously stroking her naked breasts. She was listening to Elle's extolments of anal sex, but her mind was still fixated on the image of Josh. Josh licking ass.... Elle's ass... Elle's bare, waxed, ass. Her asshole. Elle's asshole. Oh God, this was so wrong! And yet it felt so good! Why was she thinking this? Why did it feel so good to imagine Josh with Elle?

Elle could feel Lisa's rising fervor. She could hear her breaths shorten. She continued her monologue.

"You have no idea how men's heads explode when you let them fuck you there, lick you there, when you let them stick their cocks up your pussy and your ass.... Oh yess...".

For a split second, a curious detail caught Lisa's attention. Men's? Cocks? Pussy and ass? What was Elle imagining?

"It doesn't hurt. God, no, it doesn't hurt at all... No.... it is awesome. It's pure pleasure. Being so filled up... I've never cum harder in my life that with Jack ramming his thick long dick deep in my ass. Oh... Once... I fainted once. It was soo good..."

"And the guys love it so much. Soo much... They want to cum almost immediately. God, Josh would be such a great ass fucker. Josh would be such a great ass fucker. He'd fuck my ass so good... So good..."

Lisa's mind was swirling. All barriers between her imagination and her vocal chords were shattered, gone, blown away by lust. Destroyed by the image of Josh's tongue swirling over her friend's ass. She just blurted it out:

"Then.... maybe... maybe I should have Josh lick your a... Fuck your in the... Maybe I should tell him to go lick Elle's waxed a... What if I... if I want... I want Josh to fuck you in the ass... Ohhhh..."

Elle's clit was struck by lightning. She gasped. "Ohh.... Don't.... don't joke with me like that! If you say that once more, I will fuck him. I will take your Josh and make him fuck my ass. I will make him fuck me for hours. Ohh....".

Elle's sensitive bald pussy was once again dripping with juices of her excitement. She put Lisa on the speaker phone, and placed the phone low by her side. She slapped her clit; a yelp of pleasure departed her lips. Her middle finger found a way to the pucker of her ass. She moaned as she touched it.

"Maybe... maybe... he'll resist you...", Lisa said, in between the short breaths. She could hear the rhythmic slaps, the lapping sounds, the moans of her friends building up to her second orgasm, not even trying to hide it.

"Oh, no... he won't... he wouldn't be capable of resisting. Men never are. Ahh...", she gasped, as the first knuckle penetrating her pink asshole.

"Why.... why... why no..?". Lisa's words were barely audible. She was close to cumming. Elle could feel this. She was nearly there as well.

"Tell me... Tell me... Elle... why he couldn't... why he won't... resist your assh... Ohhh..."

"My asshole... My ass... Because it's like your's, Lisa... Because it's big... and round. Men love big beautiful asses. I love big beautiful asses. I love... Oh god..." Elle almost came to the sound of her near-admission of love for Lisa's voluptuous curves.

Another knuckle went in. Elle begun finger fucking her ass, with long, determined strokes.

"Because it's waxed, smooth. So delicious. Like your's, Lisa. Like yours will be. Lisa... Lisa, let me wax you... your ass? Will you, Lisa? I'll love your ass, Lisa. I'll make it smooth. I'll spread your ass cheeks. Your asshole will be there, so pink, so inviting. Waiting to be kissed... Touched... Fucked.... With fingers... With tongue... With a cock. No man will resist you. No one will resist you."

"Ahhh... Yess...."

"Can you imagine it Lisa? Can you imagine your virgin ass, so exposed... in want of attention? Can you feel a tongue licking your ass? A wet tongue, going all over your little, clean, brown, asshole? So smooth, so virgin? Can you? Can you feel my finger? Can you feel a cock touching it? Josh's cock, entering your ass? Can you feel my..."

"Ahh... Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, oh Gooood!!!!!!! AAARRRRRgghHHHH!"

The climax struck suddenly, cutting Elle off mid-sentence.

Like a tsunami of pleasure, it completely obliterated the little self control Lisa still had left within her. Her back arched. The headphones flew off her ears, smashing into the wall to her side. Her mouth gaped open, as if thrown into vacuum, unable to intake air. Eyes grew wide, but empty; they looked inwards, at the image of her ass cheeks held spread open by her friend, her pink asshole exposed, lustfully lapped up by her boyfriend. An animal-like shriek emerged from her throat, as convulsions of orgasm took over her body. They shook her like a rag doll, barely holding on to the office chair. Lisa felt that time had stopped.

What seemed to be minutes passed before Lisa could inhale again. She collapsed back into the chair. She begun to weep gently. Didn't know why. The intensity of the experience completely overwhelmed her. Her body was still shaking in aftershocks of the climax. She was barely able to move.

Then, she passed out.

Second, minutes, or hours later, Lisa woke up. She was almost naked, slumped over the desk in her office. Nobody else was there. The rain has stopped outside. What had just happened? How did I get here? Why am I...

Then she remembered. Elle. The phone call. The phone sex. The orgasm.

A chill went through her body.

She needed to talk to Elle. Things will never going to be the same again.



The Phone Call Ch. 02



*bzzzz*

"Yes, Janet?"

"It's Kim on the phone for you, sir."

"Thanks. Kim? Listen, I'm sorr-"

"Take you cock out of you pants!"

"Uh... what?"

"You heard me, Carl. Take your cock out of your pants."

Carl looked up at the open door to his office and lowered his voice. "Kim, listen, I'm sorry about leaving you high and dry this morning, but I really can't do that right now!"

"YOU listen, Carl." Kim's voice was low and throaty, sounding almost like the purr of a cat. "I'm sitting in the boardroom at work, stark naked. I have my legs hooked over the arms of the chair, and two fingers sliding into my hot, wet pussy. Mmmm, make that three fingers. Ahh! I've been playing with myself for the past twenty minutes; I'm going to come soon and I want you to come with me. So take your fucking cock out of your pants right now, or I swear I'm going to call someone who will!"

Carl looked at the door to his office again - he could hear the usual workplace sounds, telephones ringing, people talking, and faintly the sound of his assistant Janet typing something on her keyboard. Reaching down, he started slowly lowering his zipper. Almost whispering now, he said, "OK, I'm doing it."

"Hmm, that's good baby. Just do what I tell you and everything will be fine. Have you got it out yet?"

"Almost... there, OK. Now what?"

"Is your cock hard?" Kim's sexy voice caused Carl's cock to pulse in his hand.

"Getting there."

"Well let's see what I can do to help. I'm going to tell you a little story, and there are only two rules you have to follow. Number one, you have to keep playing with your cock. And two, you can't come until I tell you. Are you up for that, sweetie?" 

"Oh yeah," Carl whispered.

"OK, then. To start, you didn't leave me 'high and dry' with you phone call this morning. You left me hot and wet, and hornier that I've ever been before."

"Yeah, I said I was sorry about - "

"Don't apologize baby, it turned out better than you could have expected. Now tell me, did you jerk off in the shower like you said you were going to?"

"Yeah, I did."

"And did you come really hard? Did you hit the ceiling?" Kim's voice had a playful tone, and Carl knew she was picturing him jacking off.

"No, but I did give the wall a new paint job."

Kim's giggle tickled Carl's left ear. "That's quite a picture, baby. Well, I have to confess, I didn't go to the ladies room like you wanted me to."

"No? Then what did you do?"

"I asked Sharon to join me in the boardroom."

"Oh my God."

"So how's that hard-on coming, honey? Thick and throbbing yet?"

Carl's hand sped up on his cock as he pictured Kim and Sharon in the boardroom, kissing, their hands running over each other's bodies, nipples being licked, pussies being fingered... "Now it is! Damn, you are one sexy lady. Are you making this up, or did this really happen?"

"It's all true Carl. Just like it's true that I'm sitting here naked, running my fingers in and out of my soaking wet pussy. Here, listen." The next sound Carl heard was one he had heard before, fingers moving in and out of wet flesh. Hearing this, he could easily picture Kim's open pussy, the liquid center coating her fingers, making them glisten under the fluorescent lights. He tried to stifle his groan of excitement.

Kim heard him, though. She laughed quietly and said, "Not so fast baby, let me get to the good part first. And remember, no coming until I give you permission. Right?"

"Right."

"Well, Sharon and I went into the boardroom, and I made sure to lock the door behind us. She wasn't sure what I wanted to talk with her about, but I was so fucking horny that I couldn't stand it! I just blurted out the whole thing, I told her that it was you on the phone, not some customer, and that we had been having phone sex."

"And what did she say?"

"Nothing, she just stared at me like I was crazy. And then I started telling her the things you had said to me. I could tell it started to get to her when she closed her eyes - that was the part where you were under my desk, licking your way up to my pussy.

"And then I told her how you made me ask her to stay, and added her to the fantasy. I even mentioned the sexy black dress she wore at the Christmas party."

"And how did she take that?" Carl asked hopefully.

"She just said 'Oh my God.' And then she smiled and told me to keep going! So I did, and then I got to the end with the alarm going off and you having to leave, and my being all excited... And she said to me, 'You poor thing!' and then..."

"Yeah, and then?" Carl's hand was moving steadily on his upright cock.

"She kissed me! She just stepped closer and put her arms around me, and kissed me. My God, Carl, it was the sweetest, softest kiss I ever had. And then she started running her hands up and down my back, telling me that she was going to help me out, and make me feel all better. Oh God!" Kim's voice had been steady throughout, until it rose to a sharp gasp at the end of her speech.

"Babe? You OK?" Carl asked. The only sound at the other end of the line was a light panting for a few seconds. Then Kim spoke again.

"Whoo, almost came too soon there. I think I'll slow things down a bit, maybe switch from, umm, sliding my wet fingers in and out of my pussy, ah! - to just lightly rubbing my clit for a while. How about you, honey, you almost ready to come?"

Carl looked down at his dick in his hand. Hard, thick, he was very turned on but nowhere near coming yet. "I'm good. Get back to your story."

"All right. After that first kiss, things started to go a little - no, male that a lot faster. Sharon was kissing me harder, licking my lips and then sucking on my tongue. And her hands were all over me! I still don't know how she managed it, but she got all my clothes off in, like, a minute and a half. And once she had me naked, she just stopped! Stopped kissing me, touching me, and she took a step back.

"For a few seconds she just stared at me. I can only imagine what I looked like - after almost coming with you, twice! And then making out with Sharon while she stripped me naked. I was so horny, my nipples hard, my pussy sopping wet, my clit tingling..."

Carl could imagine what Kim had looked like, too. Standing there in front of her friend, naked, panting, a wild woman. He gripped his cock harder, moaning quietly as a drop of pre-cum formed on the head of his cock.

Kim was moaning too as she continued her tale. "After running her eyes all over me, sharon stepped closer. She put her hands on my shoulders, pushing me back. My legs met the boardroom table, and Sharon kept pushing, until I lay back across it. Then, mmm, she grabbed my legs behind the knee and pulled them up until my feet were resting on the table as well. I tried keeping my legs together, but Sharon didn't let me. She pushed them apart, as far as they would go, opening me up right in front of her. I could feel the air-conditioning on my wet pussy lips. And I could hear myself, making little whimpering sounds as she ran her hands up my legs, my thighs, moving closer and closer..."

Carl closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, his arm moving like a metronome as he started jacking his cock a little faster.

"She leaned down, almost kissing my lips. I could feel her breath on my clit, tickling me. It was almost too much, too good. My whimpering turned into words, I kept saying 'Please' over and over. I just needed to come so bad.

"And then she thrust out her tongue, and licked my pussy. One long, long lick that ran the length of my lips and ended at my clit. I think I started coming as soon as her tongue touched me, and then when she started sucking on my clit, nibbling at it, I just kept coming and coming." Kim's voice rose during her recitation, and her words came farther apart, broken up by little gasps as she spoke.

"Oh God, I'm close, I'm very close. But I can't come yet, and you can't either Carl! Do you hear me?"

"Why not?"

"Because I haven't finished the story yet. I only told you what she did to me, I haven't started yet on what I did to her."

"Oh God." Carl slowed down his stroking, trying to last. For a moment all he could hear was Kim's moaning and the wet sounds of his hand sliding up and down his hard-on. And then he heard a click.

Carl's eyes snapped open, and his head turned toward the door. Standing there, leaning against the closed door, was his assistant Janet. She was staring at him, and he noticed the wireless headset covering her ears. Thinking quickly, Carl put two and two together.

"Listen, Kim," he began. "The rest of the story, I assume it involves you and Sharon, ahh, continuing your activities, right?"

"Yes, of course. Why are you asking?"

"I'll get to that in a second. Now these activities you indulged in, I assume they include you licking on Sharon's nipples, feeling them harden under your tongue."

"Yes..."

"And sliding your fingers into her pussy, having it clutch at your hand as it slips in and out... suckling on her clit, enjoying the moans of pleasure as she pulls you harder against herself." Carl was speaking to Kim, but staring into Janet's eyes. His words had the desired effect as he watched her hand slowly move up her torso and start plucking at the tips of her breasts.

"Mmm-hmm, that's right Carl." Kim was enjoying his description as well.

"Before you get back to your story, honey, I have a question for you. What would you say if I told you that my assistant Janet had come into my office, locked the door behind her, and was staring at me right now."

"Well that depends. Is she cute?"

"Oh yeah. About five foot two, brunette, shoulder-length hair, tight little hardbody..." Carl made a circling motion with one finger (from his left hand) signaling Janet to turn around. "Perky tits, about a B-cup I'd say. And a killer ass, nice and tight."

"Ooh, sexy. And what's she doing in your office?" It was apparent that Kim thought Carl was improvising on her story, adding his own spin to it.

"My guess is she was listening in on our conversation, and it turned her on to the point where she wanted to join in." Janet nodded, confirming Carl's supposition. "So the question is, what do you want her to do?"

"Me?" Kim asked in confusion.

"Yes, you. You're in charge here. According to your rules, I have to keep stroking my cock, and I can't come until you tell me so. Now you need to tell Janet what she needs to do."

"OK then. What's she wearing?"

"A light green blouse and tan slacks. And heels."

"Well that's too many clothes. The first thing she needs to do is to get naked."

"Just like that?"

"Oh no. She needs to strip for you. Slowly."

"OK, then tell her what to do."

"If you insist. She should pull her blouse out of her slacks, and slowly undo the buttons. One... by one... by one... by one." Janet followed Kim's instructions, undoing a button every time Kim said 'one.'

"Should she take it off now?"

"Not yet. She needs to leave it open, though. Just enough that you can see what she has on underneath."

"She's wearing a see-through bra. I can see her nipples, they're hard and light brown and look just like chocolate kisses."

"I bet you'd like to get them between your lips, wouldn't you?"

"Oh yeah. So what's next?"

"Tell me, is Janet excited? Turned on?"

Carl looked at her with his eyebrows raised, and Janet nodded back at him enthusiastically. "I'd say so, definitely. That story of yours really got to her."

"I think we need to make sure, though. I think she should unbutton her slacks and undo the zipper." Janet obeyed the commands coming over the headset. "Then she should slip her hand underneath her panties, and slide a finger into her pussy. No, two fingers."

Carl stared at Janet as she followed Kim's instructions. "OK, now what?"

"Now she takes those two fingers out of her panties and shows you how wet they are."

Janet held out her hand toward Carl, the middle two fingers glistening. As he watched, a drop of Janet's juice fell onto the office carpeting.

"Oh God, she's soaking wet."

"Now tell her to clean off her fingers. I want her to suck then dry."

"Oh yeah, she's doing that, running her tongue over her fingers, picking up every drop."

"Mmm." Kim's voice was muffled, and Carl knew that she was doing the same thing Janet was, tasting herself. "Does she still have slacks on?"

"Yeah, slacks, blouse, everything."

"I want her to get rid of them - shoes, slacks, blouse." Before Carl's eyes, Janet quickly kicked off her shoes and stripped away her clothing. "Is she wearing underwear?"

"Yes, it's see-through. And her panties are very wet." Carl could make out the lips of Janet's pussy. "It looks like she shaves, there's just a bit of hair above her clit."

"I want the underwear gone too. I want her standing naked in front of you." Janet unclipped her bra and tossed it aside, then slid her panties down to the floor. Smiling mischievously, she tossed them at Carl, hitting him in the face.

"OK, she's totally naked now."

"Tell her to just stand there for now, with her legs spread. I want you to be able to see her hot little pussy, the wetness sliding down her legs, nipples begging to be sucked and bitten."

Carl groaned at the sight, Janet's hot body completely exposed to him, her pussy begging for his hard cock. He had to slow his pumping down to a crawl in order to avoid coming.

"Can she see you? Can she see your hard cock?" Kim asked.

"No, I'm behind my desk."

"Then tell her to come around. If you can see her, I want her to be able to see you."

Janet walked around to the side of the desk, and let out a loud gasp when she got a clear look at Carl's hand sliding up and down his hard cock. Immediately she covered her mouth with her hand and stared at Carl in horror.

Carl listened for Kim's voice at the other end of the line. After a couple of seconds of silence, he quietly said, "Kim?"

There was another pause, then Kim's voice. "It's not a fantasy, is it? She's right there, just like you described."

"Yes, she standing in front of me, naked. And I have my dick in my hand, just like I described."

"So what happens now?" Kim asked quietly.

"Now Janet and I do exactly what you tell us to do, just like before. If you tell us to put our clothes on and go back to work, that's what we do. If you tell us to do something else, we will."

"So you're saying that both of you are still under my control." Carl breathed a sigh of relief at the playful tone in Kim's voice.

"Yes, exactly. So what is your command?"

"Janet? Are you still there?" Kim asked.

At Carl's nod, Janet cleared her throat and answered. "Y-Yes. I'm here."

"Good. I want you to take a very close look at Carl's cock, and then describe it to me." Kim's voice was low and sultry again, and Carl knew she had gone back to playing with herself.

Janet slowly dropped to her knees in front of Carl's chair, then leaned forward. "It's big," she said. "I don't mean that it's longer than most, it's just very thick. And the head is purple and dark. It looks like it's about to explode."

"Mmm, that's perfect," Kim replied. "Carl, are you still stroking yourself?"

"Yes."

"I want you to stop now. Janet, I want you to put your hand on his cock." Janet nodded to herself, and slowly reached forward. As her small hand wrapped around Carl's hard-on, his breath caught in his throat.

"I've got my hand on his... on him. But my fingers don't go all the way around."

"That's OK. Now Carl, are you about ready to come?"

Carl's breathing had sped up, and he answered quickly, "Yes! I'm ready, I don't know if I can hold off much longer!"

"Just a little bit more, sweetie. Now Janet, I need to know. Where do you want Carl to come?"

"Uh, what?"

"His come, where do you want it? On your face, on your tits? Or in your mouth?"

"Oh yes, I want it in my mouth. I want to feel him coming down my throat."

"Good girl. Now lean forward and very very lightly, circle your tongue around the head of his cock."

As Janet licked at Carl's cock like an ice-cream cone, he felt his explosion getting closer. :Kim..." he said in a warning tone.

"Just a few more seconds, babe. Janet, take his head into your mouth. Once you have your lips around it, start stroking Carl's cock up and down, quickly."

As Janet followed Kim's instructions to the letter, Carl made a strangled sound and clutched at the top of his desk.

"Are you going to come now, baby?" Kim gasped.

"Yes! Yes, I'm coming now!" Carl yelled.

"Me too, baby. I'm coming too, come with me!" Kim's voice joined Carl's in shouts and gasps of pleasure, as Carl's cock exploded into Janet's mouth. Her right hand jerked at his shaft as her left was buried in her crotch. It took a few seconds, but as the last of Carl's come shot between Janet's lips, she shuddered in her own orgasm.

For a few minutes, there was no sound beyond the heated panting, as all three slowly caught their breath. Then Kim's voice came over the phone again.

"Janet?"

"Yes."

"Did Carl come in your mouth?"

"Yes."

"And did you swallow it all?"

"Oh, yes."

"Good girl." Janet smiled at the praise. Taking her left hand, she wiped at the drips of come that had escaped her mouth, and sucked the combined juices of Carl and herself off of her fingertips.

"Tell me, Janet, do you have any plans for dinner?" Kim asked.

"Well... no, not really."

"Good. I think Carl should bring you home so we can meet in person. I'll fix us a nice, home-cooked meal."

Janet grinned impishly. "I don't know, Miss Patterson. I'm pretty full already."

"Well then," Kim purred, "I have the perfect dessert in mind for us." 



The Phone Call Ch. 02



After the second phone call it was difficult to concentrate on anything else. I'd begin to prepare my lecture, and my mind would wander to thoughts of coeds with curls in their hair kneeling under my desk and eagerly sucking my cock. I must have picked up my phone a hundred times with the intention of sending a text to the unknown number, but inevitably I'd talk myself down. These are dangerous games, after all, and I have a lot to lose by being stupid. If she wants to call me, fine, she can call me. But once I start sending texts or making calls, I'm ruined. 

Still, I must have masturbated more than I had since high school. I even found myself daydreaming in my campus office as I tried hard to reads my books and research a new paper. I found myself idly rubbing my cock through my pants when I heard a knock on my door.

"Shit," I thought, "What the fuck am I doing?" I quickly removed my hand and tried to collect myself as I called out for whomever to come in.

In walked the department's administrative assistant, Heather Findley, saying she needed me to sign some papers for a recent reimbursement request for conference travel. When she had first started working there, before my marriage, we had dated briefly, but I had eventually ended it after discovering that she had cheated on me. 

At the time I had been more relieved than hurt. Ending office romances can be messy, and despite being a great fuck, Heather was quite boorish, and I had wanted out. Her affair gave me the perfect reason to call things off without her thinking I had just used her for sex.

Now, since I was acting chair of the department, she was my secretary, I suppose. Our past had never interfered with our working relationship, but we did occasionally still flirt though it was all innocent enough. I guess she had never found the right guy, because now, at 32, she was still single, and I must admit, still very much my type, with her glasses, fit but full build, and dark hair bobbed at her chin. 

She sashayed toward me, her skirt stopping at her knees. If I knew Heather, she'd be wearing thigh high stockings instead of hose. I immediately needed to know. Obviously my thoughts had gotten the better of me. I must have had a dazed look in my eyes as she stood next to me, placed some papers in front of me on my desk and leaned forward, pointing with her perfectly done red nails and saying almost mechanically, "Sign here, Jim."

I felt her hip brush against my left shoulder as I took a pen out of my shirt pocket. I went to sign the paper but hesitated and looked up at her. The corner of her mouth, lips glistening red, turned up into an expression of amused curiosity. "What?" she asked.

Without thinking too much about it and with my erection straining against my pants, I couldn't stop my left hand from reaching behind her and touching her stocking clad leg behind her knee, right below the hem of her skirt. 

She flinched at my touch, and her expression changed as she said almost coyly, "What do you think you're doing?"

I ignored her question and caressed her leg as my hand slowly ascended up under her skirt, my fingertips tracing the inside of her thigh. I found the top of her stockings and smiled up at her. The expression on her face was confusion. After all this time, why was I doing this today? Did I really want to be doing this? She seemed to ask with her eyes, her mouth slightly parted, the smirk gone, replaced with something more...

She stood almost perfectly still as my fingers lightly traced the top of her stocking. I felt her legs slightly part, urging my hand to continue its journey. I obliged. The feel of nylon gave way to the soft flesh of inner thigh and finally the feel of damp cotton panties. 

"Oh Jim," she gasped as my hand reached its destination. Her eyes closed and she bit the corner of her bottom lip. Her breathing became heavy as I began to rub my palm into her panty covered cunt. I felt her hips begin to rock slightly, and then more pronounced until she was grinding herself down against my hand.

She leaned forward slightly and placed her hands on the edge of the desk. She let out a low moan and I felt her once fluid movements become jerky and erratic. She stifled a squeal, and her thighs shuddered and squeezed together to hold my hand in place. She managed to keep herself quiet as her orgasm ran through the curves of her body like a wave, but she couldn't help the movement of her hips or the quivering of her legs as I felt my hand grow slicker even though her panties still separated my palm from the source of the moisture.

I stood up, removing my hand from under her skirt and walked toward my office door which had stupidly been left slightly open. Through half lidded eyes over the top of her glasses she watched me close and lock the door as she struggled to hold herself up. She began to push herself into a standing position and started, "Jim, I don't think..." 

But I stopped her short ordering, "Stay where you are. We're not done." She obeyed, dropping her eyes to the desk and letting out a soft whimper. Heather always had a bit of a submissive streak, and I planned to make full use of it today.

Coming up behind her, I lifted her skirt revealing for the first time what my fingers had already discovered. I ran my hands up the outside of her legs enjoying the feel of nylon and flesh. She moaned when she felt my fingers hook into the waistband of her panties and begin to slide them down the length of her legs.

She stepped out of them without being told, and I stood beside her. She looked lovely bent over my desk, bare ass presented to me, black stockings and garter contrasting with the pale flesh of her upper thighs. I ran my hand up her bare thigh to her now exposed cunt. My fingers invading her soft wetness for the first time in year. She moaned at my touch.

"Now Heather," I said, as my fingers worked over her still engorged clit, occasionally sliding a digit inside her, "You'll be a good girl and stay quiet, right?"

"Mmmm," she mewled, "It's sooo hard."

"That's what I thought," I said with an air of mock disappointment. I removed my hand from her cunt and she whimpered. Knowing she liked a bit of rough play, I took firm hold of hair and gently raised her head up. "Open your mouth," I ordered.

Her eyes went wide because she knew what was coming, but she obeyed anyway. When she did I pushed her balled up, wet panties into her mouth to muffle any noise she might make. I whispered in her ear, "Now feel free to make any sound you want." She whimpered into her panties.

I took my position behind her, I was as hard as I could remember being. Undoing my zipper, but keeping my pants up, I released my cock from its confinement and rubbed the head against Heather's cunt. Aligning myself to her opening I pushed the length of my cock inside her with one thrust.

She was so wet, her cunt was so slick, that even though her soft flesh gripped me tightly I encountered nothing like resistance. Taking firm hold of her hips I began fucking her in earnest. Driving the length of my cock into her, pulling out in a steady rhythm.

She mewled and squealed. All of her sounds were muffled by the wet panties in her mouth as I fucked the curvy secretary from behind. With each thrust she began to push back against me, my cock stretching her cunt and reaching deeper with each hard thrust. 

I reached forward and grabbed her hair, pulling her head up, forcing her to arch her back. She let out a muffled yelp followed by a long, low moan as I felt her cunt contract around me.

"Did you miss my cock?" I taunted. "Did you miss getting fucked by my fat cock?"

She grunted through the panties she gripped in her teeth.

I leaned forward and whispered into her ear, "What fucking slut wears a garter belt to work these days? Were you hoping your boss would fuck your tight, little cunt?"

She moaned as I ploughed into her. I let go of her hair and she lowered herself to the desk, leaning on her forearms and bowing her head. 

I closed my eyes and imagined she was a student splayed out before me. I heard the voice from the phone in my head begging for my cock. And the more I thought about the phone call, the more aggressively I fucked the slut lying across my desk.

"When I'm done fucking your cunt," I warned, "I'm going to shove my cock in your mouth and cum all over your pretty face."

The thought must have been enough for I felt her cunt spasm around my cock as she fell into her second orgasm in my office. Her whines and shrieks hit a crescendo as she almost cried herself to orgasm, shaking into tension, and then melting into a relaxed puddle as the orgasm subsided.

I grabbed her limp body by the shoulders and lifted her up as my still hard cock slid out of her. I guided her to her knees in front of me as I sank back into my desk chair. 

Pulling the panties from her mouth, her lips remained parted, her breathing heavy, her eyes in a far off daze. I slid my cock into her mouth, holding her head in my hands, intent on finishing my own orgasm just as my anonymous caller had described.

I fucked her mouth with a few hard strokes before she had recovered enough to take on the responsibility herself. Slowly, she came to life, closing her bright red lips hard around my cock, smearing her lipstick on me as she locked eyes with me.

My own orgasm swelled and a light brush of her teeth was enough for me to fill her mouth with my cum. Knowing she had no choice in such a public environment, she dutifully swallowed every drop, holding me in her mouth until she was certain I had finished.

Releasing my cock she sat back on her heels and deftly used her own soiled panties to wipe at the corner of her lips. Sitting on the floor of my office, lipstick smeared, skirt raised up, hair mussed in a way that said she had just been fucked, I felt I could have fucked her again.

"So," she said, "What was that about? Trouble at home?"

"Oh," I replied, "No, not exactly."

She smiled slightly, "Look, if you trust me enough to fuck me, then you should trust me enough to talk to me."

It was a fair point. "Well, I've been a bit distracted lately," I began. I went on to tell her about the two phone calls, and my wandering thoughts. I explained that I wasn't really sure what had come over me when she walked in, but I was just so over stimulated.

"So," she smiled a wicked smile, "A student wants to fuck you and is bold enough to say so. That's pretty hot. You think you'll fuck her here, in your office?"

"What?" I exclaimed, "no, of course not."

"Well," she said, "you can't fuck her at your house. And you can't fuck her in the dorms. Think of how that would look, a Professor creeping out of a coed's dorm room."

"Stop it," I said, slightly annoyed. "I've no intention of fucking her at all."

She smirked, "Uh huh. I'm guessing you had no intention of fucking me today either."

"Don't you have work to do?" I asked.

"Yes, I do," she replied, "but I'm still waiting for your signature."



The Phone Call Ch. 03



Later that night, my phone rang. When I saw the number, my cock began to grow.

After answering she cut off my hello with a breathless, "Oh god, you're so bad." She dragged that last syllable out into a whimper of a sound.

"Am I?" I asked instantly both bemused and aroused. "How's so?"

"Well," she let out a small giggle, "I came to your office to see you today, and do you know what I saw?"

Uh oh. My throat went dry as my mind went back to my office door which had been left open too long that afternoon as I first fingered and then fucked the department administrative assistant. "What did you see?" I asked, stiffening (and not in a pleasant way).

"My, my," she said, "I could hear your jaw clench. You need to relax. I'm not out to hurt you. I'm here to play." Over our phone calls this student had gotten much bolder, more confidant in her role as tease.

"Yes, yes," I tried to be dismissive; "I'm a very uptight kind of guy."

Her laugh turned into a kind of mewling wantonness as she said, "I bet I know how to help you unwind."

I cleared my throat to stop my mind from wandering, "So why did you call again?"

"Because," she said, "I stopped by your office today. You know you should close your door all the way if you're going to fuck your secretary. You never know what kind of voyeur might be lurking in the hallways."

My mouth was dry; I figured there was no point denying it. "You saw that, did you?"

"Mhmmm," came the reply.

There was an awkward silence as I wasn't really sure what to say next. One of my students had seen me fucking the departmental secretary in my office. What's worse, I didn't know which student despite having had phone sex with her. 

I said the only thing I could think of to say which admittedly wasn't much, "So..."

"So what?" she asked, almost cheerfully.

"So what now?"

"What do you mean?" She seemed taken aback.

"Well," I said, "You called me. Do you have something else to say about it?"

"Um..." She clearly hadn't thought too far ahead.

"Yes?"

She mumbled something into the phone that I couldn't understand. "What was that?" I asked.

Very quietly she said, "I wish it had been me."

"If you had come by my office earlier, it may have been." I tried to be more confident in my handling her.

"Oh," she almost purred, "I don't know. I don't think so."

"Really? Why not?" I wasn't sure where she was going with her thoughts, but I figured I might as well have some fun, so I added, "What, aren't you attractive enough for me to want you?"

She laughed into the phone. "What low self esteem you must have to think only ugly girls would want you. If you must know, I expect you wouldn't be able to help yourself. I'd be your cocaine." She sighed into the phone. "I bet you're touching yourself now, aren't you Professor?"

She had me there. Unconsciously my hand wandered into my lap and was rubbing my cock through my pants. I really needed to end this. 

"Look," I began but she cut me off with a cackle of girlish laughter.

"Oh my god, I'm so right, aren't I?" She slipped into a long whimpering sigh, "God it's so hot that you want me that badly and you don't even know my name."

"Look," I began again forcefully, "this has to stop. I'm your professor. Not to mention I'm married. It's wrong."

"Mhmmm," she purred, "it so is." Silence lingered for a moment and then she continued, "Want to guess what I'm doing right now?"

I didn't have to guess, but somehow I found the resolve to take back control. "I think this is over."

She moaned into the phone, exaggerating her own building orgasm. "We'll see," she said and then *click,* the phone went dead. A momentary feeling of victory spread over me as I had successfully pulled myself away from this intoxicating girl. But that was almost immediately swept away by a feeling of anxiety. What if it really was over? Did I really want it to end there? Then again, what if it wasn't?

I awoke the next morning refreshed, even relieved. I think I actually whistled to myself as I adjusted my tie in the mirror. My wife commented on how unusual it was to find me in so good a mood. I figured that despite the very compromising position I had put myself into, I had likely ended the flirtation with this student, clearing my head and my conscience as I again returned to that space where I was lost in my own heady thoughts without paying much attention to students at all. At least I had demonstrated the strength to walk away, and that was something.

I believed once again in the strength of my ethical resolve. Ethics is a fragile thing, however.

As I walked into my office my cell phone alerted me to a text. It was from her, of course, and it was a picture. There on my phone was my anonymous student, from the neck down, completely nude except for a pair of black heels. Her body was shapely, tanned and toned. Perky breasts, B cup, I'd guess. And her slim waist slowly sloped into soft inviting hips. 

Of course she was shaved but her legs were held tight together as she stood in front of what must have been a full length mirror. In one hand she held her phone for the selfie, in the other she held a copy of the book for my class. She had captioned the text, "Studying Me" which I thought was fairly clever given the multiple interpretations the tag lent itself to.

I studied the picture as I stood in the middle of my office. She was perfect. I imagined running my hands over her body, sealing my mouth over her sweet shaved cunt. Before I drifted off into fantasy, however, I began to ask what clues such a pic could reveal of her identity. 

She had fair skin, not excessively tanned like some of the coeds on campus. And at her shoulders was the end of her hair, curly as I already knew, but blonde too. How many young women with curly blonde hair down to their shoulders could I have in my classes? 

When I hadn't responded, my phone sounded another incoming text. "So, Am I too ugly to want to fuck?"

This time I responded. "You have a nice body, no doubt, and decent study habits I see." This earned me an "lol" in response.

I responded again. "Will you be coming to class today? If you do, I'm willing to bet I can guess who you are."

She replied, "What are you willing to bet?"

That was an interesting question. I know what I wanted, but what did she want? After I considered this for a moment I sent another text. "If I figure out who you are, you'll leave me alone."

After waiting a few minutes a reply came. "If you figure out who I am, you won't be able to leave me alone."

My heart started to race. I managed to text back, "See you in class." But what was I going to do? I hoped my resolve would hold. I started to perspire. 

I fell back in my office chair and ran my fingers through my hair. I looked at the picture again and unconsciously licked my lips. 

I had only two classes today for a total of about 60 students. Some of them wouldn't show up, of course, but she said she'd be there. In my head I had already narrowed the list somewhat, ruled out some girls I had been considering before the picture text.

When class finally began I was a bit anxious, managed to relax by controlling my breathing. As the students filed in I soon realized that no one in this class fit the description. There were blondes, but no curls. Curls but not shapely enough. I settled into my boring lecture which was so familiar to me after years of teaching that my mind could wander while my mouth delivered it.

As I made my way into my second classroom, my heart was really racing. I debated about cancelling class if I could immediately identify her. I wasn't sure I could keep composure, I was worried I would devolve into a slack jawed stare as my mind played images of her splayed body being impaled on my cock. Of having her bent over my desk while I fucked her from behind. 

I literally shook my head to stop my mind from wandering. I looked around. Not here yet from the look of it. I checked my watch; time was ticking away. No sign of blonde curls and a lithe body. Time came for lecture to begin, still no sign of her. I busied myself with my books, delaying. But she didn't show. 

She must have got scared and decided not to come. Immediately I was in a foul mood. I called out a student for texting during class and invited her to leave. I grew impatient and snarky when no one would answer my questions about the reading. These things I usually let go, but today was different, I was irritated and looking to take it out on someone.

Class ended and I checked my phone. No text. No phone call. I gathered my things and headed for my office. I considered pulling Heather into my office and fucking her again, but decided against it. I got off the elevator in my building and turned the corner to my office and there she was.

Molly Peterson. Strangely I always forgot her name when I called role, but there it was, front and center in my mind. Molly Peterson.

"Hello sir," She said as I approached, her chin pointed down, arms hanging in front of her, holding our class text book at her mid section like a chastity belt. She was wearing a flower print sundress and her blonde curls dangled in front of the bluest eyes. She bit her lip hesitantly, but her eyes smirked at me. I instantly desired to ruin her.

I did my best to look annoyed as I fished the keys to my office door out of my pocket. "Molly, isn't it? Molly Peterson, you weren't in class today." My door swung open and she followed me in. I directed her to the seat in front of my desk as I closed and quietly locked the door behind me. This wasn't what I had planned, but this was how it was going to be.

She remained silent as I walked beside where she was seated. I leaned back against the wall, even with her, looking down on her disapprovingly. She kept her eyes on her feet which were wearing the same shoes as the photo.

"Your absence is one thing," I began sternly, "but frankly I'm more concerned about the texts you've been sending me." Her eyes shot up to mine. Of course I knew it was her and she knew that, but I think it surprised her to find me so bold about it. Then she smiled.

"I'm sorry sir," she wetted her lips, "Was that an inappropriate picture?"

"I think you know that it was."

"So," she mockingly pouted, "You didn't like it?"

It was my turn to grin at her coquettishness. "I think you know that I did."

She turned herself sideways in the chair, facing me. She leaned back with her elbow holding her up on the chair's arm behind her, her head tilted forward, peering at me seductively from beneath those lovely curls. 

She draped one leg over the other arm of the chair, dangling her shoe from her suspended foot. The hem of her dress slipped down the milky white flesh of her thigh almost to her waist. I stared intently at the space between her spread legs, barely covered by the thin cotton fabric of her dress.

She reached between her legs with her free hand. Her delicate finger first pressed the soft fabric into her body, then she raised the hem of her dress, revealing that she wore no panties.

"Well," she said as she lazily worked a finger over her clearly wet hairless slit, "Here I am, live and in person, professor. What are you going to do?"

I walked toward her and stared down at her lounging lithe body intently. I took a handful of her hair and pulled her head back so she stared up at me. Her eyes went wide for a moment as she let out a little gasp before returning to the lidded hungry stare she had before.

I leaned down and kissed her hard on the mouth. Her mouth tasted young, a faint sweetness, like bubble gum but her moans were whorish and wanton. I drank from her mouth with her tongue, all thoughts of marriage and career slipping far into the recess of my will.

I lowered myself. Kissed down her long neck as I kneeled in front of her. She wrapped her fingers in my hair. Was this little minx actually pushing me lower? 

Her straps slipped off her shoulders and I pushed her dress down, exposing her smallish B cup breasts. I cupped the right one with my hand, gently twisting the nipple between thumb and forefinger. It instantly grew hard to my touch.

I spent a moment or two with my mouth on each breast. Tasting every inch of her flesh, but it was a blur. As I slipped lower the heady aroma of her open sex filled my nostrils so that I was possessed by a strong desire to taste her.

As I lowered myself further, I took hold of her legs behind each knee and spread them apart as I pushed her legs up. I kissed her left thigh reveling in the luxury of its soft flesh. I looked up at her. Her cheeks were flush, mouth parted, eyes unfocused but intent.

"You must be quiet." I managed and she faintly nodded before I lowered my mouth onto her perfect little cunt. She tried her best to muffle her squeal, but as my tongue worked its way into her. More moans and cries escaped her lips.

She tasted so sweet, and I devoured her. I worked my tongue as deep into her as far as I could before wiggling it back and forth up over the length of her slit, and then sucking gently on her engorged clit. 

She bucked in the chair underneath me, or tried to, but I held her down as my mouth locked onto her. Her fingers wrapped into my hair and she grinded herself against my tongue as best she could. 

She began a long slow whine that slowly built in intensity, punctuated by quick movements of her hips as she pressed her cunt against my mouth. It almost sounded as though she was crying, and for a moment my concentration broke, and I was tempted to stop, but her grip on the back of my head told me otherwise.

I flicked my tongue quickly over her clit and her body began to shudder. Her whine became a steady cry, followed by convulsions, and finally a great big gasp as her body went slack in the chair.

"Oh god," she panted, "I didn't know..." Her hair was mussed and her makeup had smeared a bit. I stood up and brought her to her feet. Kissing her again I let her taste herself on my lips and tongue as I ravaged her mouth for a second time.

Spinning her small frame around I bent her over my desk and stood behind her. She was limp and behaving more like a rag doll than an active participant, but after eating her to orgasm I had to fuck her. My cock ached in a way it hadn't since I was a teenager.

She muttered, barely audibly, "Wait... wait... wait"

I flipped her skirt onto her back and reached down between her legs, feeling that she was still slick and ready to be fucked. I unzipped my pants, but asked, "What?"

"Please," she said, propping herself up onto her elbows and looking back at me over her shoulder, "it's my first time." She looked unsure of herself.

I hadn't really expected that. I rubbed my cock head along her wet slit. "Molly, do you want me to fuck you?"

She looked back at me, "Yes sir."

"Then say it."

She hesitated, "I want you to... fuck me."

"I don't believe you, Molly."

She lowered her head and pushed back a little against my teasing cock. "Please fuck me, professor."

Unprompted she said again, "Please fuck me professor. Please take my cunt and make it yours. Fuck me and cum inside me."

I pressed into her. My god she was tight. I rocked back and forth until I felt the mushroom head of my cock slide into her virgin hole. I took hold of her hips and pressed harder. She whimpered and moaned, half grunted whether in pain or pleasure was not clear.

"Come on Molly." I encouraged her, "Show me how much you want to be my slut." And all at once she pushed back hard against me and her virginity was gone.

She cried out, "Oh fuck yes!" more in triumph than pleasure. Her cunt gripped my cock like a firm velvet fist. I could feel every inch inside her. Slowly I began to rock my hips, small movements at first, then bigger ones, until I was fucking her in earnest.

She mewled as my cock opened her, made her cunt adjust to my size. I held her slender hips and pressed hard against her as she grunted with each thrust. My cock swelling.

"Oh god," she repeated, "I can't... believe... this... is... finally... happening" she said with each thrust.

"You wanted my cock that badly?"

"Oh god yes, professor," she said as I fucked her in a steady rhythm. "I knew you were the one."

I briefly pulled out of her and turned her onto her back. Stepping between her legs I reentered her now stretched cunt, perfectly accommodating my still rock hard cock. She propped herself up on her elbows and wrapped her long legs around my hips. 

"Come on sir, fuck me, make me yours, ruin me for anyone else." Her eyes were desperate and intently locked onto mine. I leaned forward and kissed her, pressed my tongue into her mouth as my cock invaded her cunt.

My own orgasm was building, but I didn't want to stop fucking this young student who had so eagerly seduced me into taking her virginity. As my thrusts become more insistent, I had sense enough to say into her mouth, "Are you on the pill?"

She leaned back, a looked at me through lidded eyes with a half smile, she shook her head no just as I felt her legs lock tighter around me. 

It was my turn to say, "Oh god" but instead of stopping I fucked this girl harder. I wanted her, wanted to mark her, to make her body mine. 

She whispered, "Please cum inside me." And I obliged, pressing hard into her, my cock exploded deep against her cervix, filling her young fertile womb with my cum. I thrust hard with each spurt, and she wrapped her arms around me as it was my turn for my body to shake.

Fuck, what was I thinking? I slipped out of her and sank to the floor. Overcome by a sense of dread. She slipped down next to me and cuddled into my lap. 

"Don't worry sir," she said, "I think we can bring your wife come to a new understanding."



The Phone Call Ch. 04



NOTE: This is part 4 in a series and it presupposes some knowledge of past events, I encourage you to read the first 3 parts in order to understand how we got here. As always, I love feedback. The more you tell me, the better writer I become. Thank you

*****

Later that night, my phone rang. "Hello Molly," I said somewhat distantly. 

On the other end of the phone, Molly, my blonde curled student who I'd fucked in my office earlier that day, mocked my tone. "Awww, professor, you sound upset. It wouldn't be because of a moral dilemma, would it?" She giggled just like she had after she came on the phone for me the first time when I still didn't know who she was.

Having not only fucked her, but also possibly impregnated my student, I was more than tied in moral knots. "Jesus, Molly," I began, "Can you be serious for a second? What the hell are we going to do?"

"I know what I want to do," she cooed through the phone. "How is it that the sound of your voice just makes my pussy flood?" I heard the sound of her sucking on something. "Mmmm," she continued, "I taste different, or maybe I can still taste you."

My cock was growing hard despite my concerns. This was not good. "Look Molly, what happened today... it just can't happen again."

"So what you're saying is," Molly responded, her voice husky over the phone, "you don't want to fuck this tight... wet... young... aching... pussy anymore?" She was moaning as she finished, and my mouth was hanging stupidly open as I listened.

"But I'm married," I all but whispered in a weak attempt to win the argument.

She moaned into the phone, "I know... and I have thoughts about that too." 

"What kind of thoughts?" my interest piqued, but also a growing unsettled feeling within.

"Are you stroking that lovely cock of yours?" she asked playfully, like a petulant child. "I won't tell you my thoughts if you're not."

I was, god help me. Despite my conscious struggle against this cute blonde with ravenous appetite I found that I had taken my cock out and was slowly teasing myself as she whimpered and moaned and pouted into the phone.

"Just tell me," I grumbled. At that moment it was difficult to keep my mind from flooding with images of our tryst in my office earlier that day. Molly made it impossible for me to keep focused.

She giggled into the phone, satisfied that I was in fact stroking myself, even if I hadn't admitted it. "Well," she purred, "I was thinking that, given how easy it was to have you fuck me, it might be fun to see if I could seduce your wife too. I bet she'd give me more of a challenge."

"Jesus, Molly," I about choked, my cock softening in my hand, "Stay the fuck away from wife. Are you trying to ruin me?"

"You mean the way you ruined my tight, young, virgin pussy with that nice big cock of yours?" She exaggerated a gasp at her own words. Then, slipping into some imitation of a pornographic Scarlett O'Hara she added, "I do declare I'm no longer fit for any man but you, the way you ravished my poor young body." Then she dissolved into a luxuriously languid laugh that spoke of newfound sexual confidence and desire.

If we had been talking in person, I would have slapped her. Or maybe I would have fucked her. Possibly I would have slapped her and then fucked her. This girl had me all turned around. Since we were on the phone and I was overcome with a mix of fear and anger, I simply said, "Please, Molly."

"Mmmm," She mewled, "I like that. But please what, huh? 'Please let me fuck you again?' Or did you mean, 'Please seduce my wife?' What is it you say in class? 'Be poetic if you must, but above all be clear!'" And then she laughed.

"God dammit, Molly," I said in frustration. I wanted to threaten her, to scare her into compliance, but over the phone it seemed so impotent, so I just stopped there.

"Oh," she said her tone revealing a self-satisfied bratiness , "I like that. I like you angry with me. I want you to put all that anger into throwing me down and fucking me as hard as you can. I want you to punish me with that cock of yours. Will you do that for me, professor? Will you fuck me so hard I can still feel it the next day in your class?"

Torn between whispering a begrudging "yes" and losing all control and screaming into the phone for her to leave me alone, I did the only thing I could think of to do: I hung up. I half expected her to call back but she didn't. Instead she texted me a close up pic of her mouth, lips painted with a shade of pink lipsticks only younger girls wear, two fingers in her mouth. The caption read, "Thinking of you."

I ignored it. Or tried to. Being completely honest I almost immediately went to my home office and jacked off, alternating between the new pic and the older one of her nude in nothing but heels. She clearly had me and was merely toying with me, the way cats toy with mice before they devour them.

As it was I had other things to worry about. First and foremost, that night was an event for big money donors to the University and faculty attendance was mandatory. I encouraged my wife to skip it as it was bound to be dreadful, but she looked forward to such things, being naturally ore outgoing than I. For her it was an excuse to buy a new dress and a pair of heels and drink just ever so slightly more than she should.

My wife, Monica, was a professional in her own right working in the world of finance. Secretly she loved going to academic affairs because her social skills, when compared to the crippling anxiety and awkwardness of most intellectuals, made Monica the belle of the ball. 

It helped too that she was absolutely stunning. Standing slightly taller than average for a woman, her legs were long and lean and led up to a body that had rounded ever so slightly as she passed into her early 30s. Her hair was raven black cast against a fair, almost porcelain complexion and deep blue eyes.

Of course, marriages aren't just about how sexy your spouse is. Or, sexiness isn't just a factor of looks. Monica was gorgeous, but she had grown cold or distant. Maybe I had. I don't know really. I decided I lacked impulse control. Fucking Molly was one thing, but fucking my secretary the day before just because she walked in when I was hard, that showed a character flaw. Suddenly I felt guilty. Not just scared of being caught, but actual remorse.

I considered these things when I went into our bedroom and saw Monica sitting on the edge of the bed getting ready for the evening. She was wearing a black slip and sliding a black stocking up her legs. Damn she looked good.

The thought must have expressed itself on my face, but she looked up at me and immediately rolled her eyes, "Really?" she asked sarcastically.

I shrugged as I leaned against the door jam, watching her ignore me and continue to get ready. "The heart wants what it wants, I guess."

"It's not your heart that's doing the wanting," she replied coolly.

I walked behind her and rubbed her soft shoulder covered only by the thin straps of her slip. "Sorry," I apologized, "I was just thinking how good you look."

"Jesus, John," she stood up and turned towards me, clearly annoyed. "You barely talk to me for months, let alone touch me, and then, when we have somewhere to be in half an hour, you wanna fuck?"

"Calm down," I said, "that wasn't what I wanted."

"Oh I suppose you just wanted a quick blow job before the taxi comes." She walked to the mirror and fixed her earrings, looking at me in the reflection. "I don't even know what to think anymore."

"Mon," I tried to say softly, again walking up behind her, placing my hands on her upper arms, "That wasn't what I meant. I'm sorry. I'm lucky to have you."

"Look," she said, turning toward me, "I know things have been rough, maybe we should see somebody." I gave a half smile and slightly nodded. Before I could respond, her mood and face lightened, "But tonight, let's just try to have a little fun." She turned back toward the mirror, admiring herself. 

"Besides," she added, "I do look good tonight. It's no wonder you want to fuck me." Just then the taxi honked its horn and she pecked me playfully on the cheek. "Let's go."

The reception was nice as these things go. It's always a good show when the college is trying to impress donors. There was a large buffet with prime rib, a jazz band playing background music, and about 300 academics and alumni milling about in their best ass kissing clothes.

I made my way for the bar to get Monica a glass of Merlot and myself a nice Scotch. It was an open bar, I might as well take advantage. As I waited on the bartender, across the room, from the corner of my eye I saw a blur of blonde curls. Could it be?

What was she doing here? Students didn't usually attend faculty events unless they were working as servers, but she wasn't dressed as a server. No, she was dressed to kill in a strapless red dress with flowing skirt, black stockings and heels.

She was chatting with an elderly couple I knew to be an emeritus professor from the anthropology department and her husband. Her eye caught mine and she smiled devilishly at me and winked. I nodded back, but gathered my drinks, tipped the bartender and returned to my wife.

For a while I tried to keep tabs on Molly, expecting her to come say hello and god knows what else. In such a large room it was difficult to keep track of her, especially since my own colleagues kept seeking my attention, trying to introduce me to various alumni donors. I couldn't say if I was keeping tabs on her for fear or desire or maybe both. 

It became apparent that whatever had brought her here was keeping her busy and that she wasn't making any clear attempt to come to talk to me. If I were honest I'd say I was more disappointed than relieved, but I figured it was for the best. I eventually settled into the fake interactions that typify such events.

Monica, for her part was in her element, making her way around the room, leaving me to my own devices. I tried to keep track of her too, but it was likewise difficult. At first she ran off with the wife of a departmental colleague, both of them chatting up the Dean of the college. The dean then introduced her to someone I didn't recognize, a donor I'd figure. Deans are good at finding people who know how to charm money out of others, and Monica, in her various capacities and knowledge sets was one of the best.

Somewhere into my third scotch I decided I needed some air, but rather than head out the front door where all of the smokers tended to congregate, I made my way to the rear exit. I just needed a moment to myself. For a classic introvert, such events are taxing.

I stepped out, ran my hands over my face, flush with the rising level of alcohol and the warmth of a packed room. In the distance a couple of students were making their way through the quad, no doubt on their way to a party of their own. But otherwise, the university was quiet. I took a deep breath.

"Why hello, professor." I turned to see Molly, leaning against the wall next to the door. Her hands were behind her back, one leg bent at the knee, foot against the wall as well.

"Molly," I tried to be calm, but I moved toward her so I could whisper. "What are you doing here?"

"Same as you I'd guess," she smiled, "I needed some air." She smiled coyly, tipping her chin down and tilting her head, "Unless you followed me out here."

"No," I said, "That's not what I meant." And then I reconsidered, "And no, I didn't know you were out here."

"But you hoped," she interrupted.

For a moment I thought about pursuing the argument, but instead I just stepped to her and took her face in my hands and kissed her full on the mouth. In retrospect it was stupid, anyone could have come out, but I lingered, drinking in the sweet bubblegum taste of her lip gloss as our tongues explored the caverns of each other's mouths. She wrapped her hands around my shoulders as I pressed her body into the wall. I broke the kiss and stepped away. My hand that had held her cheek trailed down her neck to her shoulder, and then down her arm, until, like a love struck teen I stood there in the moonlight, holding her hand.

Of course, like "love struck" teens, love isn't really at issue, just hormones. I imagine I stood there looking at her with a hungry look on my face.

"Oh my, professor," she gasped when the kiss was broken. Then, walking away, but still holding my hand, she pulled me away from the building. "Come with me," she said, and I did.

She dragged me across the walk to the next building explaining, "These doors are almost always open at night because you professors are a workaholic bunch. Sure enough, she was right, and I glanced around hoping no one was watching as I followed her into the empty building.

The first floor was made up of classroom space, and after checking a few doors, we found one that was open. I followed her in and closed the door. As I turned toward her she was all over me. Using her slight frame to press me back against the door as used every inch of her heels to reach up to my mouth with her own.

I drank in the taste of her lips as her hands immediately began fumbling with my belt. When she had it undone, she lowered my zipper and immediately sank to her knees in front of me.

As she fished my cock out of my pants, she looked up at me, her expression changed from coy tease to abject desire. "When you saw the picture of my mouth, is this what you thought about?"

She didn't wait for an answer; as soon as my hardening cock was exposed she swallowed it into the warm wetness of her mouth, moaning as she did. I could feel my cock growing against the soft flesh of her tongue as she pressed it against me.

I watched as her head began to bob back and forth, longer strokes as my cock quickly came to full attention. She looked up at me, her mouth stretched to accommodate my size and our eyes locked. She worked back and forth, one hand firmly wrapped around the base of my erection, her eyes never leaving mine, mine never leaving hers. It was heaven. 

I wrapped a hand in her blonde curls, and held tight as my own hips began to meet the movement of her head. Her eyes went wide at the sensation of the slight tug on her hair and then returned to half lidded expression of ecstasy as she continued her best to swallow as much of my cock as her petite mouth would allow.

The sensation was too much and I wanted, or perhaps needed, to fuck her. I pulled my hips back to free my cock from her mouth, but she merely followed, locked on to me, refusing to give up that which was filling her mouth. I resorted to roughly pulling her by the hair until my cock released from her mouth with an obscene popping sound.

"No," she whimpered, her mouth suddenly emptied, "I wanted you to cum in my mouth this time." She was panting, as I pulled her to her feet. "I wanted to show you that you could use me however you wanted, that I was here for what you need."

I pulled out a desk chair and sat in it, my cock achingly erect jutting up from my lap. I pulled her toward me, her face half pout, but still flush with desire. 

"What I want," I said panting, "is to fuck you. Take off your panties and straddle me." 

She giggled as she flipped up the skirt of her dress, moving toward me, revealing that her stocking were just that, stockings and saying. "I'm not wearing any, sir." 

She straddled me lifting her red skirt, placing a knee on either side of my hips as I sat in the desk chair. She grinded her hips against my exposed cock, until I was running against her wet slit, sliding against her clit, teasing both of us. Her hands were placed on my shoulder, while I held onto her hips.

I watched her face, as she pulled up ever so slightly so my erect cock could find its way into her. Biting the edge of her lower lip, she slid down onto me, stretching and opening her tight cunt as each inch of me disappeared into her under her dress.

She moaned loudly into the room as she sank down. It was an easier fit than the first time. I smiled to myself as I thought that she must be getting broken in just for me. She closed her eyes and pressed herself hard down onto me, taking the last few inches of my cock with a slight squeal.

I held her there, reveling in the sensation of the grip of her pussy. I reached up behind her and pulled her forward so that I could kiss her and slide my tongue into the wetness of her mouth. I wanted to consume her, to inhabit every inch of space inside her that I could. 

And then she started rocking. Slowly at first, but then more pronounced. Not so much an up and down motion as a grinding. I could feel her muscles contract around me as she slid forward and the release as she slid back. It felt like my cock swelled even more to be inside of her.

She wrapped her arms around my neck and threw her head back as her pace quickened. Her eyes closed and a slow whine turned into a high pitched squeal of delight as her body shivered and spasmed into an orgasm.

"Fuuuccck," she cried, her hips grinding against me, "So good... so good..."

She fell forward against me, my face full of her blonde curls as she nuzzled my neck, her hips still riding my cock, albeit more slowly now. She whispered in my ear, "I feel like such a slut, cumming so fast for you." She nibbled my ear gently, "But I've been wet all day thinking about this... about you."

My hands on her hips urged her to quicken her pace, which she did, gladly, but now having cum, she was back in a teasing mood. She sat upright in my lap, her forehead pressed to mine, her seemingly innocent eyes peered into me.

"Come on, sir," she urged, "take this pussy and own it. Fuck your slut student. Your slut. Fuck me like you never fuck your wife. Use me, hurt me. Pull me hard down onto your cock and make me feel it."

These last words were grunted as I reached behind her and pulled her hair, making her look straight up as I pulled her down. My mouth covered her neck and she moaned in delight. I felt my cock begin to swell and I remembered her words earlier. Quickly I stood, lifting her lithe body as I did so, my cock leaving her vacant as I pushed her once again to her knees.

She grabbed my cock and stroked it, smiling up at me. "Does my professor wish to cum in his student's mouth after all? Too bad you can't cum on my face and make me leave it so everyone at the party knows what I've been doing. But I don't want to ruin my pretty dress."

I grabbed her head and pulled her mouth onto my cock just in time to fill her mouth with the first eruption of my cum. She gave a muffled squeak of surprise before moaning as she nursed my cock and swallowed as spasm after spasm of my hot seed flooded her mouth. 

I fell back in the chair, panting heavily, my legs weak. My softening cock already retreating back into the confines of my zipper. She kneeled before me, hair mussed, make up ruined, a small streak of cum running down the smooth white skin of her chin. This she wiped with a finger and cleaned with her mouth and then smiled mischievously.

Molly climbed back into my lap, this time not straddling me, but sideways, feet stretched out, arms around my neck. I put my hands on her petite waist and kissed her, tasting myself on her lips.

She got up and pulled a compact out of her purse and did her best to fix her makeup and hair. "So," she said with a smile, "Now I get to go talk to everyone you know with your cum on my breath." She leaned over me and kissed me lightly on the cheek so as not to muss herself again. "Do you think your wife would pick up your scent if I stopped and said hello."

I ran my hand through my hair, "Please Molly, leave my wife alone."

"Don't worry professor," she said as she made her way to the classroom door, "It will all work out just fine. Trust me." And with that she was gone.




The Phone Call Ch. 04



I sat there a few minutes, thinking about what had just happened. I was worried about what Molly might do or say to Monica, but with each encounter I cared less. Molly was so addictive, whether it was her youth, or the mere fact of her sexual confidence, I couldn't say. It is always good to be wanted, but the combined taboos of cheating on my wife and fucking a student had taken me over.

I waited a few minutes before returning to the party. I didn't want to give the impression Molly and I had been off together. As I walked back into the party, I wondered if I had been missed, but clearly I hadn't been. Immediately I began looking for Monica, and found her off in the corner speaking now to the university's president. 

I stopped and got another drink at the bar before making my way toward my wife and the President. As I moved toward them through the crowd I saw President Pritchard motion to some unseen person. It was Molly. He was calling Molly over to introduce her to my wife. Lovely.

I hesitated for a moment, debating about whether I wanted to join that conversation, but I figured it was for the best, if just to keep an eye on Molly. I was still 10 feet away from Monica when Molly was being introduced. Monica's back was to me, but Molly caught my eye and with a devilsh grin leaned in and gave Monica a peck on the cheek in what seemed like a very warm greeting.

Of course I knew what Molly was doing, tormenting me with the thought that my student's mouth which had just expertly drained my cum from my cock, had now planted a kiss on my wife's cheek, daring Monica to smell the cum, my cum, on her breath.

As I approached, the president said to me, "John, I was just chatting with your lovely wife, and I believe you know young Molly from class. She is one of our prestigious President's Scholars I've been showing off to the alumni tonight."

"Molly was just telling us how much she was enjoying having you this semester," My wife said as I joined their group.

"Was she now?" I asked. "Well that is very kind of her to say."

"You know," said the President, "John here is one of our most talented and devoted professors. He always has time for his students."

Molly tried to temper her smile and came off looking like a shy but adoring student. She said, "Oh, I've definitely found that to be true."

"You know," the President continued, "I've always found that as important as classroom time is, It is the time spent with students outside of the classroom that leaves a lasting impression. It's in those private moments one on one with students that professors can most effectively stretch and shape them in preparation for future challenges."

Monica spoke up, "I definitely agree. One professor I had really took charge of me in his free time and it's why I am who I am today." 

I sipped my drink, looking over the edge of the glass at Molly as she bit her bottom lip, making eyes at me.

"Of course," Monica continued taking my hand and smiling at me, "it may leave an impressionable girl with an inclination for academics." 

We all chuckled. I gave Monica a peck on the cheek. "Well then," I said, "I guess I have your old professor to thank."

"He was by no means old," Monica responded, her multiple glasses of wine leaving her free to divulge, "Well, no older than you are now. Truth be told, I had a bit of a crush on him."

The President glanced from Monica to me, and back to Monica, clearly not comfortable with this line of conversation, but trying to remain affable. 

I spoke changing the subject, "So Molly, have you settled on a major yet." 

"No sir," Molly said, "but I wouldn't mind speaking with your wife about the business world. I feel like we might have a lot in common, if she doesn't mind sharing."

Monica didn't seem to notice my eyes go wide and fix into a momentary heavy glare at Molly. "I'd be happy to talk with you," Monica said, "Walk with me as I freshen my drink." Monica placed a hand on the younger girl's shoulder and guided her along back to the bar and out of range of earshot.

Left alone, the president said to me, "John, keep on young Molly. She has a great future and seems to really take a shine to you."

"Of course," I said simply. At that point other people came up wanting the president's ear and I was left to recede into the background and my own thoughts. I scanned the crowd, and could see Molly talking to my wife, both smiling and laughing. Monica's back was to me, but occasionally Molly would throw me a quick glance with a mischievous smile.

By the time we were ready to go home, Monica was a bit tipsy, but still in reasonable control. We hailed a taxi and rode home mostly in silence. Back in our house, I sat on the couch in our living room, and Monica, sat next to me, her head on my shoulder. 

"Do you ever think about fucking one of your students?" She asked, drowsy from too much wine, her inhibitions lowered.

"Monica," I lied, "you know I would never do something like that."

"No," she said, "do you think about it? I mean, do you ever see a student that just makes you think about what it would be like to crawl between her legs?"

I didn't really know how to respond. Saying "no" would be too obvious a lie, saying "yes" would invite potential problems. Instead I tried to change the subject, "I think you're drunk."

"Mhmmm," She purred. She moved closer to me, putting her chin on my shoulder and slid her hand up my thigh. "And I think you're avoiding the question. Take that girl we met at the party tonight, Molly, she's cute with all those blonde curls and pink lipstick. She's in your class, right?" 

"Yes she is," I tried to remain even. 

Monica's hand made its way to my crotch and rubbed me through my pants. Her voice sank deeper, "Ever think about fucking her?"

"Well," I said trying to be clever and hide my discomfort as my cock grew, "I am now."

Monica pressed the issue as she pressed my cock through my pants, "She's so petite. I bet she'd look great riding you. All those blonde curls bouncing everywhere, eyes closed, head thrown back."

Of course I didn't have to imagine it as I had seen that very sight not a few hours earlier. As my memory drifted back, Monica undid my pants and removed my cock. I worried that she might find hints of previous activity, a smear of pink lipstick, a certain scent. But the light was low and she was caught in her own purpose.

Her voice was a purr as she stroked me, head still on my shoulder. "I bet she has a tight little cunt. You'd have to go so slow at first." My cock jumped in her hand.

Monica lowered her head into my lap. Still stroking my cock, she added her mouth in time with her hand. The effect was lightening. She sucked like that for a while. My cock, having just been inside Molly hours before, was now in my wife's mouth. 

Ironically she lifted her head and said, "I bet her young cunt tastes so sweet." 

She worked me over with her mouth a few more strokes, and then said, "Maybe you'd like to watch me taste her, hmmm, would you like that?"

My cock jumped again and she gave a satisfied moan, "I thought you'd like the thought of that."

She lifted herself up and stood. Undoing a zipper she let her dress fall away, followed by her slip. Soon she stood before me in nothing but her stockings and heels. Her body was fuller but fit, and more rounded than Molly's, and in many ways more attractive. Like Molly had before, Monica straddled me, a knee on each side of my hips, her hands reaching behind me, holding on to the back of the couch.

Expertly she wriggled her hips over me, teased herself for a moment, and then with hips alone, positioned my cock and sank down onto it.

My hands went to her hips, and then up her soft torso to her breasts, squeezing and kneading them, twisting at her hard nipples as she began to ride me on the sofa.

She looked down at me, her short dark hair fell into her eyes as she moaned. "Mmmm, fuck me professor, I've been such a bad girl in class."

Lost in my own less than sober haze combined with Monica's invocation of Molly, I got confused and whispered into the room, "Oh Molly."

Rather than responding poorly to my calling out for my student, Monica moaned loudly, her pussy tightening around my cock even as it grew wetter. "Yes, professor," she mewled, imitating the younger girls higher voice, "Fuck my sweet young cunt."

I gave myself over to the game, pinching Monica's nipples harder before moving my hands to hold onto her hips. I pressed up into her as she drove herself down. Our movements quickened, her cries grew louder.

Monica became a string of obscenities as her own orgasm approached, "Fuck me, fuck me harder, harder, take this student pussy and cum inside me, own me, make me eat your wife while you fuck me, make me make her cum, push my face into her cunt, smother me in your wife."

The images were too much for both of us. Monica's words turned to an almost steady howl of pleasure as her orgasm swept over her, her muscles contracted urging my cock to release deep inside of her. I swelled and thrust hard up into her, grunting as my seed pumped into my wife, but I called out "Molly!" as I did, lost in a haze of memories and imagination about my student lover.

Spent, Monica collapsed on top of me, breathing heavy, her mouth against my ear. She let out a self-satisfied purr, and said, "Imagination can be a wonderful thing. Perhaps we should think about your students more often.

I managed to avoid saying out loud, "I probably think about Molly too much as it is."

Still I wondered, just what had she and Molly been talking about at the party. In 8 years of marriage, this was something new. Molly had obviously climbed into her head, but how?