1 comments/ 15699 views/ 2 favorites Cell Phone By: Edana I told myself it was just a cell phone after all and just for use in emergencies and for brief, urgent and business-like calls. And this was just one of those business-like occasions. I was running late for my staff meeting. I had no time to linger in the driveway. I needed to start my little Honda hatchback – I got a great deal on the lease - and get on the road. At that moment, in fact, I had no one I needed to call. But my new cell felt so sleek and smooth in my hand. It felt made for other kinds of calls: the whispered kind in the evening, in the moonlight, on hidden streets and secluded beaches. I set the ring tone to a short, sharp gasp of Flamenco. The cell seemed to wink at me as it played, slyly intimating knowledge of desires I had never admitted having. A little nervously, I switched to vibrate, still holding the phone in my hand, feeling the tremors flowing up my arm, while my other hand wandered of its own will over the high aureole of my left breast, sensitive now even through my clothing. But this was silly, thought. This had to stop. I reset the cell to what I thought was a neutral ring tone – both flamenco and the vibrate setting were obviously to be avoided. I snapped the cell shut and jammed it into my leather purse. I had no time for this. The staff meeting would start in minutes and it was all the way across town. I started the engine and swung into traffic. The weather was breaking from the earlier rain to a brief burst of evening sunlight, as it often does on the coast. The setting sun swelled and spread under and through the low clouds and flooded the windshield with a few final rings of yellow light. The warmth of the light pulsed down my spine, opened the doorways of my body, one by one. Feeling a little flushed, I rolled the window down. Fingers of spring air flowed through and stretched the frame of each newly opened door. My grip on the steering wheel loosened. I heard myself moan, just audibly, as I felt the heat radiating out from between my legs, rolling on through my hips and thighs. I was little shocked at my lack of self-control. I shook my head, tried to focus. The staff meeting would set the agenda for the New Year. We would parcel out the assignments and set priorities. I had to be there. I was one of the people everyone depended on for discipline and direction. But sometimes I felt just too directed, too disciplined. Or perhaps I craved some other kind of discipline. And why did the meeting have to be tonight, when the air was so delicate and fresh, and at just the hour when twilight was modulating to starlight? A crazy picture arose in my mind, of a procession of flaming torches in suggestive shapes passing hand-to-hand across the full white body of the moon. I gripped the steering wheel harder. I tried to drive these thoughts away. But that only evoked the memory of another kind of gripping, of only a few nights before, when I gripped the back of the couch as my husband plunged, plunged into my wet, my burning core, exploding his fountain of seed. He'd surprised my as I bent over to stroke the cat in passing, tearing up my skirt, tearing down my panties, stroking the curves of my ass, my swelling nipples... He was so undisciplined, such a distraction, to say the least, surprising me at the most awkward places, in the laundry room, in a neighbor's yard, in the washroom at Starbuck's... He had no ambition. He just wasn't serious. And with my position on the hospital board, with all the issues, the shape of healthcare, the unions, the budget, my own career... But it was other healthy shapes he was interested in, other kinds of unions, other blown budgets, and a more personal view of what makes a career... No, he wasn't serious. Or dependable. He made my so angry sometimes, so frustrated. But then...in that...area, he never let my down. And he brought out a whole other side of what he called my fey, primitive side, which my body betrayed despite the order and discipline I tried always to impose on myself. And now I kept coming back in my mind to the feel of his most recent thrusting, his clever reaching under with his soft fingertips, his stroking of that... But this kind of wandering thought was dangerous, especially while driving. A horn sounded, violently plunging me back into the hard reality of the street. A stoplight. Frantically, I slammed on my brakes, just avoiding a crash. My head dropped to the steering wheel. I panted for air, tried to gather my wits. By the time the light changed I was more calm, if not altogether on task. Whatever happened later, now I needed to at least make this meeting. I needed at least to put in an appearance. What I meant to do there, what my interests and objectives were, was hard now to recall. But I would keep to my schedule. I started off again with both hands firmly on the wheel, slowly accelerating, as if I had just learned to drive. My mind floated in a hazy trajectory, mid way between duty and desire. A sharp gasp of Flamenco sounded distantly, then sounded again and again before I realized it was the cell phone, buried deep in my leather purse. But hadn't I set it differently? To a more neutral tone? I pulled over to the side of the road. Struggling with the zipper of my purse, I plunged my hand down past the inner folds, probing to the bottom for the cell. The purse had been sitting next to the heater, and was warm inside, filled with objects of many textures, smooth, ridged, undulating. My gropings for the ringing cell became strangely languid. Gathering it finally in my hand, I fumbled with the unfamiliar buttons. I pressed the phone to my ear. I felt a soft stream of white noise. With my voice dropped to a whisper, I answered: -- Hello. A man's voice responded. It was a resonant, familiar voice, but strange, like someone I knew set in another place. -- Laura. -- Yes? Who is this? -- Take a deep breath. Tell me where you are. -- I'm sorry? -- Tell me where you are. My first instinct was to lash out with impatience, irritation. I had no time for this, no time for games. But tonight...was different. Tonight...some odd compulsion overcame all my objections, made me, after some hesitation, answer. -- On Fourth Avenue. -- Are you heading west? I had an intake of breath. -- Yes. -- You know how to find Spanish Banks, don't you? -- Yes. But I have a meet... -- You know how to find Spanish Banks. The voice was gentle but insistent. -- Yes. -- Drive to Spanish Banks, past the concession. Park facing the beach. Wait for my call. -- I can't do that. -- Wait for my call. The line went silent. I waited. But there was nothing more. However disoriented I felt, this was too much. I was certainly not going to do what he said. I was not going to stand up my colleagues, go to some empty beach and just park there. Not after nightfall. I turned off Fourth Avenue, drove directly to my meeting. I parked in front of the house. I straightened my cotton dress and my black car coat, gathered up my leather purse and reached for the door handle. But there was the cell phone, on the passenger seat. I picked it up, intending to slip it into my pocket. Yet I hesitated. There was something odd about this new phone. I opened it up, brought it in close to my face. It was the odor. Over the usual scents of electronics and plastic was a subtle musk. I breathed it in. It was feral and a little disturbing. Timidly, I pressed the smooth cell gently against my cheek. Then with a great effort of will, remembering first to reset the phone to vibrate to avoid its eruption at the meeting, I snapped the cell phone shut and slipped it back inside the folds of my purse. I went inside the house and there as expected was Alice and Maggie and Byron and Robert and May, and there was talk of the budget, professional development, expansion. And there was this joke and that story, and it all went off as scripted, except that it certainly was noticed that I didn't take on my usual assertive role. I wasn't pushing the agenda, demanding results, as I usually did. I only nodded in agreement, oiled the proceedings as needed. For on the couch next to me, buried in my leather purse was the cell, and I could still sense it, smell it, and I worried that it would ring out with Flamenco, or that it would insinuate its feral vibration. I couldn't remember how I had set it only minutes ago. I couldn't remember whether he said he would phone again. And still that musky odor was in my nostrils, and would the others... -- Are you okay? You look a little flushed. It was Robert. I looked up at him confused, unable for a moment to remember who he was. When I did recall his name, he appeared to my in a way he never had before: as a man. I found myself looking him over. He didn't have movie star looks, exactly, but he did have the kind of strong nose I liked. His body was solid, and there was that prominent bulge I noticed now for perhaps the first time. I wondered...but my thoughts were getting away from my. -- Maybe I'm a little tired, I said, smiling faintly, barely resisting the impulse to reach out and cup that bulge in my hand. But then Alice also noticed that I was not looking so well, and Byron too, and besides there was not much left to discuss, they said. And so they eased me out the door. Was it a plot? Were they seizing on the chance to drop my out of the loop altogether? Ordinarily, I'd be suspicious. Now, I didn't care. I just needed to get out into the night air and try to collect myself. I allowed myself to be led by escort out to my car. I endured their solicitous looks and gestures as I started the engine and drove away. I refused to imagine what they must be thinking. I checked my watch. The whole hallucinatory episode had passed in the space of twenty-five minutes. The cool air did little to dispel my confusion. As I approached Fourth Avenue I slowed to a crawl. Would the light be green or red? Would I turn east or west? It was green. I turned west. Then the cell phone vibrated. I could feel the vibration through the purse, through the seat. When had I set it to vibrate? -- Hello, I answered. Against my will, some urgency had crept into my voice. -- Where are you now? -- On Fourth Avenue. -- The beach is in moonlight. The moon is above the hill along Spanish Banks. The line went silent. The moon glided beside me along Fourth Avenue as I drove west toward Spanish Banks. Pale figures wandered among the trees in Jericho Park. Heavy limbs separated, curled down, twined and reconnected near the ground. The night air was still fresh and balmy. I turned toward the beach. The wind blew sand in swirls across the road beneath my car. The concession was closed. One light shone on the wall. A mad woman in her electric wheel chair circled the building, humming softly. There were no other cars in the parking lot. The light standard overhead was extinguished. I pulled in and stopped, cut the engine, cut the lights. As my eyes adjusted, the rolling beach appeared, luminous in the moonlight, with a scattering of trees, shrubs and driftwood, then the waters of the inlet, black with glimmers, and the dark North Shore Mountains beyond, with their sprinkling of lights signaling unseen streets and tramways. I picked up the cell. I opened it. Again, the low musk. The wind was gentle in the trees and the new spring leaves were still too moist to make a sound. All voices were low and distant and disappeared like raindrops, never disturbing the calm of the breathing sand. The cell phone vibrated. I scarcely whispered: -- Hello. -- Are you ready to begin? -- Begin? -- Yes. -- I don't know. -- Turn on your inside light, switch your cell to speakerphone and place it on the dash. I did so. -- You must be warm in that heavy coat. I struggled out of my black car coat. My dress was in plain and sensible cotton with square shoulders but in a soft yellow gold, and a little tight across the chest. -- Have you touched your breasts today? -- I'm sorry? -- Have you touched your breasts today? -- Yes, I breathed. -- Show me. I glanced around nervously, but with the interior light switched on everything outside the car, the beach, the water, the mountains were nearly obliterated. I peered out intently, but could see no one. Shyly, I reached for one nipple than the other, squeezing them through my thin cotton dress and undergarments, turning them between my fingers. To my surprise, my nipples responded almost immediately, and with some wonder I followed that response, and warmth began to spread throughout my loosening body. I settled back in my seat, sighing deeply from time to time as my arousal grew. Outside was silence, though I imagined hearing an answering breathing in the sand, the nearly imperceptible roll of grains pushed by the breeze over the dunes. And from the cell phone on the dash, I was certain I heard some stifled moans, familiar in their inflection, riding on my sighs. Then the voice returned, grown a little more hoarse. -- Your dress...looks a little tight across your breasts, a little...constricting. Trembling, I reached behind, unzipped the back of my dress, pulled down the front, uncovering my lacy white bra and my deep cleavage. I ran my hands around my breasts and over nipples now that much closer to my touch, and that much more responsive, and I moaned and strangely sighed almost with the same breath. Without further prompting, I reached behind again and unclasped my bra, pulled it down, and my large breasts tumbled out, like two moons framed in clouds of yellow cotton. My pink nipples were already erect. I squeezed each nipple between my fingers, my head thrown back, a smile beginning at the corners of my red lips. I watched myself in the mirror. I heard a muffled moan from the cell on the dash. That moan, too, was familiar. I groaned in answer, intensified the fondling of my nipples and breasts. The interior light reflected the red highlights of my long dark hair, pulled back in a flowing ponytail. From the cell came a voice grown yet more hoarse, struggling to speak: -- In the glove...box. Look...in the glove... Reluctantly removing one hand from a swelling breast, I reached down to open the glovebox. Nestled on top of the usual debris of sunglasses, lotions, pens and papers was a crystalline dildo in the shape of a dolphin, half rolled up in a pair of my husband's silk boxers. Softly chuckling to myself, I settled back in the seat. I carefully unrolled the dildo from the silk. With one hand I rubbed the silk boxers over my breasts, then down over my belly, and below, where he couldn't see, I brought it up under my dress, along my thighs, trailing, lingering over my pussy. With my other hand I rolled the crystalline dildo down between my breasts, up to my lips, licked around its dolphin head, drew it into my mouth, turning it as I sucked. Then, holding the dildo to the side of my smiling face, looking into the mirror, I said: -- You want a slut. You want me to be your slut, don't you? His response was whispered: -- Yes. -- You really like that word, don't you? Slut...slut. Why do you like it so much? I went back to rubbing my breasts with his boxers, rolling the dildo around my nipples. -- The word...the word just slides off the tongue, he whispered. Just saying the word, hearing the word, feels hot and wet. And you're such a beautiful slut with that slutty smile, stroking your beautiful tits. Moaning, I wet my fingers in my mouth, spread the moisture over the dildo, over my nipples, made them both glisten in the dim light. -- I know you. I know what you want. You want to bend me over the hood of this car, don't you, and fuck me hard from behind. That's where you would like all this to go, isn't it? -- Yes, he whispered. -- Why should I let you? Will you beg for it? -- I'll do anything. If I were there with you, in the car... -- What would you do? Tell me. -- I would spin each of your nipples between my lips like fire sticks, rake them with my hungry teeth, pull them this way and that, use them to churn your creamy breasts. I would stroke your breasts with fragrant oils, slide my hard cock between... I groaned louder, squeezed my nipples yet harder. The dildo grew warm, than hot as I ran it more rapidly over my body. I struggled, pulled my dress farther down my body, exposing my smooth belly. -- And then... -- In the flooding moonlight I would tear your dress down the middle, tongue my way in bursts of wet fire from breast to breast, and down to your soft belly, and down to the edge of your glistening... Suddenly lowering the seat, I lay back, ran my hands rapidly, caressingly down the length of my body, pulled up my dress and pulled down my silk panties. In the dim light, my thighs shone creamy and rich. Urgently, I reached down over my soft mound, began to stroke my moist lips. I stroked my pussy into pink fullness, but in the dark where he couldn't see. Pulses of desire flowed out from my stroking hands, joining circuits of pleasure from my breasts, through every door of my spine. Impatiently, with a little growl, I plunged two fingers inside, pulled them lingeringly out, stroking in hot circles my engorged and swelling clit as they passed. I plunged again, again, and then with a sly smile, I stopped, slowly brought my fingers to my mouth, licked and sucked away my own juices, hungrily. My wet mouth, like my pussy, was eager to be filled. -- Tell me, I said. What would you do now, if you were here? -- Ah, God... First tell me. How do your fingers taste? -- Like your cock after fucking. -- If I were there, slut, if I were there... I would stroke your pussy with special creams, with my firm, clever fingers, the inner, the outer, the secret hood, the secret nodes and pockets. I would use the butterfly, with all my fingers at once, inside, outside, on your pussy, in your cunt, in your ass. I would fuck you every place at once. I would pulse and play along your whole ecstatic field... Restraining my rising excitement, stretching the moment, I brought the crystalline dildo again to my mouth. I had not let go of it once since I first unrolled it from its silk wrapper, and now it was heated to an almost fleshy softness in my hand. I stroked it tenderly with both hands, suckled its smooth head. Yet more slowly I rolled the dildo down between my breasts, over my belly, down over the swollen and manifold lips of my pussy. With little grunts of pleasure, I turned the dildo, worked it inside my hungry cunt. The first plunge brought a gasp from the cell phone, a groan from me. I plunged in the dildo again, again, while with the other hand I stroked my clit in hot circles. I was at the edge of exploding, nearly sinking under the sensations, when I found the strength to lift my stroking hand briefly away from its work, grab the cell phone, click it off. With the dildo still enflaming my pussy, still buried in my cunt, I held the vibrating phone in my hand, waited an eternal moment. At last it began to vibrate with his call. I fumbled, groaned, pressed the vibrating phone to my clit, turned it, rubbed it with the circular motion I needed, still plunging the crystal dildo into my throbbing cunt. The molten crystal filled me, the vibrating phone powered new sensations, the man who lay in wait beyond the phone sweetened my imagination. From between my toes to the tips of my breasts, along every nadi and node, an insensate fire arose, exploding finally from the volcano of my pussy in quaking tsunamis, swirling around the smiling crystal dolphin. Steps were approaching the car. There was nothing I wanted more now than to be pulled out of my seat, dragged around the front of the car, bent over the hood and fucked, fucked hard, and feel him explode as I had exploded, filling me with his seed. Yet as I listened to his steps, waited for his apparition in the darkness, on the still silent beach, the breathing of the sand again re-emerging, I reined in the trembling of my body, brought my urgent craving under control. Though still burning inside, I would try to present a placid face, perhaps ask him one more time what he really wanted, perhaps even make him beg, just a little. Cell Phone Adventures Story 1 God, I love sex. There is no way to describe how much I obsess about sex. And I consider myself the luckiest man alive. Just a year ago, I was a salesman for a computer company, jockeying through business doors trying to hustle my products. Then a small twist of fate changed my life. I started out the day by rolling my date from the night before onto her stomach and sticking one of my fingers into her hot, little pussy. She moaned and started to wake up. Her pussy was already getting wet. I love the feel of a turned on pussy. I slid another finger into her and twisted back and forth. Slowly, I finger fucked her while I rubbed my thumb over her clit. She pressed against my hand, wanting the feelings my busy fingers were creating in her body. Running my tongue down the small of her back, I could taste the salt and sweat on her skin. The extra stimulation seemed to excite her. She writhed and pressed her greedy pussy hard onto my fingers. Suddenly, she clenched down on my hand as she orgasmed. I couldn’t hold myself back anymore and plunged my dick into her tight snatch. I was bumping forcefully against her ass. I wrapped my arms around her body and fingered her clit and with my other hand I squeezed her big tits. She bucked against me, demanding more. “Don’t stop! I’m going to cum!” She gasped through clenched teeth. I started pounding into her fast and hard, barely able to hold off my own orgasm when she started to spasm around me. I didn’t want that beautiful sensation to end; the incredible tightness in my balls, the prickly shivers of pleasure right before I cum. I just kept jabbing into her slopping wet pussy until I couldn’t control it any longer and shot my load into that sweet hole. I hated the fact that I had to leave my bed and go to work, but the bills didn’t pay themselves. Hopping into the shower, I started daydreaming about the great blowjob the chick had given me the past night. She had deep throated my big dick, sliding her tongue around my throbbing penis, stroking with one hand under my balls, she sucked me dry. I wished I could have sex like that all the time, but that was a dream, or so I thought. Later that afternoon, I stopped at a sidewalk café to grab some lunch. The tables were close together and there was a man near me talking on his cell phone. I didn’t pay much attention at first, until I heard him say the word sex, then I paid more attention. "Yeah, O.K., I'll be there tonight at 7:00 to pick you up." The man at the next table laid his phone down. He quickly finished his cappuccino, folded his newspaper, and got up to leave. Glancing at his watch, he walked out the door, forgetting his cell. I picked it up and tried to catch him but he had already gotten into a taxi and sped away. The small cell phone in my hand started ringing. "What should I do now?" I thought. I can't listen to a phone ring without answering it, so I turned it on. "Hello." I said uncertainly. "Hi, my friend Vanessa gave me your number and said I should call you." A nervous female voice began. "You see, I well . . . I need to have sex in the worst way." She continued, too fast for me to interrupt. "Vanessa said you were a little pricey but worth it. Would $500.00 be enough for one night?" I was stunned. I had just been thinking about sex and this woman I had never seen before wanted me to do her! My mind went into overload. It sounded great. "Hey, no problem. I get calls like this all the time." I ad-libbed. "$500 will be fine, I'll give you a discount." I had no what the real going rates were. "When would you like me to come over?" "Are you booked tonight?" "No, not at all. My appointment had to cancel,” I grinned. "Lucky me!" She laughed. She quickly gave me her address, which I jotted down into my day planner. That night, promptly at 7:30 I drove up to a posh house in one of the ritzy suburbs across town. I brought my overnight bag with some sexy essentials and a dozen roses to give to my new client. A touch of romance can help even the most casual of relationships. After all, it was all about the fantasy. I rang the doorbell and the big, oak door flew open immediately. "Hi, I'm Jenny. You must be Scott." The petite lady standing in front of me had short dark hair cut at a slant and a small face with full lips and dark brown eyes. “Yeah, I'm Scott." I smiled. My name is really Tim, but who cares. "These are for you." I presented the roses to her with a flourish. I was in heaven. I hoped my eagerness and excitement weren’t obvious. "Thanks. They are beautiful. Please come in." She led me down the foyer into a huge living room decorated in white with green marble and brass. A fire crackled away in the fireplace. There was even a simulated polar bear rug in front of it. "I love your place. You obviously have quite a flare for decorating," I said trying to sound casual. I was using all of my self-control not to grab her tight ass. "Thanks, I really love this house. I won it in my divorce along with two cars and a sizable alimony." She moved to set the flowers in a vase. "I thought I would try you out and if you were as great as Vanessa said, I would have you come out once a week." "Hell yeah!" I thought. Sex with this gorgeous woman once a week for pay, I could quit my real job and do what I loved best. "I aim to please, Mam." I drawled in my best imitation of a Texan. "If you would like to sit down on the couch with me, I would love for you to tell me your favorite ways to have sex and your wildest fantasies." I had worked long enough at my dead end sales job to know the best way to satisfy a customer was to meet her needs and go the extra step. Jenny sat down next to me, her leg pressed against mine; I took her hand and raised it to my lips. Then I carefully started to massage it. "I like to be seduced and lots of foreplay. I have fantasies of being tied up and blind folded while a man does erotic things to me. I really like a man who can be inventive. I think for tonight, I would like something sensual though. Not to wild." "I see. Well, I think I know just the thing." I reached up and started to unbutton Jenny's shirt, letting my fingers graze her perfect skin. Pushing her shirt off her shoulders, I gazed at her gorgeous boobs. Her small round nipples puckered when the cooler air hit them. Tugging her hand gently, I guided her down to the bearskin rug. I helped her out of her pants. Her body was so fine, just looking at it made my mouth water. I wanted to take her right then, but I knew better. I asked her to lie on her stomach and then took my massage oil out of my sports bag and coated my hands with it. Starting from the nape of her neck, I carefully caressed and massaged her skin. I had learned long ago that women were aroused by the sensual massage techniques very quickly. I couldn't count how many friends I had managed to seduce by just offering a body massage. "Um, that's nice." Jenny sighed as she relaxed into my touch. Slowly massaging her back, I could feel the tension leaving her muscles as she relaxed into my palms. Her velvety smooth skin gliding under my fingers was causing me to become achingly hard. I paid special attention to her lovely buttocks, gently kneading them and molding them with my hands. Gently separating her legs, I manipulated the muscles around her thighs, just skimming her pussy lips. The light touch was starting to excite her; I could feel her tremble as my knuckles grazed her hidden clit. Carefully working my way around her thighs, I brushed her pussy lips several more times, with just enough pressure that she would realize it wasn’t an accident. The small, tantalizing touches were turning her on. I finished working on the back of her legs and carefully massaged her small feet. Women loved attention to detail. "Roll over for me so I can massage the other side.” I requested. I could see her pussy was quickly becoming wet, but I wanted more than a lukewarm reaction. Starting at Jenny's finely boned hands; I slowly worked up her supple arms and then smoothed my palms softly over her breasts. I caressed each little hill, gently tweaking her nipples and then kneaded her breasts as I rolled her rock hard nipples in between my fingers. Working down the side of her ribs, I lightly grazed her stomach with the tips of my fingers. I trailed my fingers down to her pubic hair and then flared out to work on her upper thighs. I had learned that lightly teasing her erogenous zones would really make her wild for more. Massaging her thighs, I spread her shapely legs and walked my fingers up one inner thigh and then the other. I pushed one finger into her and ran it around the soaked opening. I teased and played, using one finger then two or three while I rubbed her clit. Jenny's breathing was getting faster and she was moaning softly. "Oh, god, I am so hot. I want you to lick my hot pussy." She ordered. Straddling her thighs, I pressed my tongue down on Jenny's clit. It became a wet probe, moving back and forth flicking over her swollen little nub, then dipping into her moist hole, tasting her special juices. I relished her taste. Inserting two fingers into her delicious hole, I stroked in and out, as I flicked my hot tongue over her clit. Moving my mouth over her tight little button, I could feel her tense in passion. Her fingers had wrapped into the bearskin, grabbing it as her body writhed in erotic pleasure. "Yes, please don't stop!" She screamed, grinding her hips up to my busy mouth. "Oh, baby, I'm going to cum!" Moving my tongue faster and harder, I continued to finger fuck her sweet hole, the extra friction causing her to cum. She screamed in pleasure, her back arched and hips jerked under my mouth. I lapped pouring juices from her pussy, savoring the taste. "Scott, I want your dick in me right now." Jenny panted. At her command, I stripped off my slacks and shirt. My long, hard cock was throbbing in anticipation. "I love that dick." Jenny moaned. She was gazing lustfully at my heavy hard-on. She quickly kneeled in front of me and sucked my cock into her mouth. Her talented tongue swiftly drove all other thoughts from my mind. Her head bopped up and down as she sucked me in and released me. She was so good; she was going to make me cum if I didn't stop her. "Jenny, I love that but I want to cum in your hot pussy." She gave one last suck and disengaged her mouth. Turning around she presented her pert backside to my stare. "I want you to do it to me doggy style." She said pushing her cute ass into the air. Complying with her request was no difficulty for me. I positioned myself behind her, separated her cheeks and pushed my cock firmly into her wet cleft. She was so tight and hot. Her pussy clutched around me with a strong grip. As I began stroking, I reached up her petite frame and cupped a breast with each hand, rolling her nipples in between my fingers. My cock was thrusting in and out of her sopping pussy like a piston. "Harder, god yes! Don't stop! More, I want more!" She shrieked rubbing her ass against my thighs in frenzy. I could feel her body tightening beneath me as I jabbed into her sweet hole, pushing harder and faster. I thrust into her brutally, delivering the hot friction she needed. Her passionate moans driving me on. Her body spasmed and she twisted the rug into her hands as she screamed her orgasmic release. I quickly pumped, my own orgasm following hers. Her pussy clutching and spasming around my throbbing cock. We collapsed onto the floor together and I held her, stroking her hair and lightly kissing her neck. When she had recovered I carried her up to her bedroom and we lay together in the soft luxury. I made love to her three times that night and again the morning. She was thoroughly sated. While she slept, I cleaned up in the shower, went down to the kitchen, and made her breakfast. To the breakfast tray, I added one of the roses I had given her. Gently kissing her awake, I played the petals across her lips. "Your breakfast is served, my Lady." "You are incredible!" She exclaimed. "Wonderful sex, romance and breakfast in bed. Wow, I think you deserve a tip." "I just want to make your fantasies come true." I answered. After finishing her breakfast, it was time for me to leave. As she showed me to the door, she took out her pocketbook and handed me seven crisp hundred-dollar bills. "You earned it." She smiled in satisfaction. "Can you come every Friday night?" "Well sure, my calendar can be rearranged to accommodate a beautiful lady like you." I smiled into her pleased expression. "But I have a new cell phone number for you to use. I am getting rid of the old one." I wrote my own cell number down for her. I was still going to return the other guy's phone after all. "Great, do you mind if I refer a couple of friends your way. I know they would adore you." "No problem, Jenny. I can always work in someone you refer." I winked. On the drive home, I thought about the way the night had gone with complete satisfaction. I was completely satisfied with the way things had turned out. It was a fantastic way to make a living. I called my boss that afternoon and quit. Within two days, I had four more appointments for the next week. What an odd twist of fate; one small, forgotten cell phone had changed my life. When I returned the phone to the real Scott, I refused his reward and told him the pleasure was all mine. He smiled knowingly. Cell Phone Text Messages A few months ago I hooked up with a couple that I had met on an online swingers site. ((He is D and she is K.)) It was my first time being with a woman and only their third time in a 3-some. We are from the same area and are all the same age and had a really great time. We promised to do it again soon, and to keep in touch in the meantime. I’ve talked to D almost every day since. K’s job is very demanding so we don’t get to talk much. Anyway, one day I sent D an erotic text message to his phone. He called me immediately stating it was hard to work with a tent in his pants. I loved the fact that I could turn him on like that, with just a few words on his phone. Soon the three of us made plans to get together again. As the days got closer I became more and more frustrated. I had to take care of myself one night before I ruptured. The next morning I decided to text D about my night. Most phones have a limit as to how long the text can be, and his is 270 characters per message, including the ‘subject’. Because of the limit in text size I playfully numbered the messages as chapters – just in case some of my messages got crossed out there in airspace, he could put the story in order. I waited about ten minutes between each message to really drive him nuts. The message was: XXX- Did I ever tell you what really gets me horny? Reading erotic stories. Like the Forum section in Penthouse Mag. I love to just picture myself as the character in the story. Well, I have a story for you about last night: Ch. 1- I have been so worked up about seeing you again. All of this pent up frustration - I needed some release. After hubby and kids were all in bed I logged onto the computer and my favorite website = www.literotica.com Ch. 2- I grabbed my 'toy box' and stripped down to my oversized t-shirt while waiting for the site to load. I clicked to see what new stories had been added and started to browse around looking for one that was promising. Ch. 3- First I read a story about a housewife who got gang-banged by 3 of her husbands co-workers. I was already wet before I started reading. My pussy lips were swollen open, glistening with my moisture. Ch. 4- I hooked my middle finger into that silky wetness and grinned with the realization of how wet I was. As I read I brought my fingers to my lips and spread the moisture on my lips like a sheer gloss. I sucked my finger clean and slowly Ch. 5- licked my lips. The story I was reading was good, but I really wanted to find one with some anal penetration. So I surfed some more while repeatedly applying my pussy juice to my lips and licking it back off. Ch. 6- I tasted so good! I wish it was possible for me to eat my own pussy; I love my taste. I browsed a few more stories and finally found one that looked really good. I applied some of my wetness to my puckered asshole, spreading it in circular Ch. 7- motion, gently applying pressure. My thighs began to shake - my breathing already ragged. The woman in this story was getting double penetrated - something I really want to try, have a man in my cunt and a man in my ass, both of them fucking me Ch. 8- I slowly inserted a finger into my tight hot ass, gathering more of my cunt juice to lube it up. I fingered that hole faster, closing my eyes, hanging my head back. With my other hand I spread my labia open wider searching for Ch. 9- my little love button. One touch sent me over the edge. I gasped loudly, fingered my ass faster and pinched my clit as hard as I could grab the slippery little knob. I felt the walls of my pussy convulsing as I started to cum. Ch. 10- I calmed for a few seconds, then licked all of my fingers clean. I selected my favorite toy from the box. You know the one, it's supposed to slip over a mans cock and it has an anal probe and a vibrating clit egg. Oh, how I wished I had Ch. 11- a large jelly dong like K's to use with it and fill me up completely. I inserted the anal probe into my pussy and swirled it around to coat it with my juice. Then I placed it on the chair and put the tip of it at my asshole. At this point my cell phone rings in a tune that is only set for D. I grin as I push TALK and say: “I’m not finished yet.” “You’re not? Well I almost am. Mmmmmmmmmm.” “What are you doing? Where are you?” “I had to drive 15 minutes to get home. I’m touching it now.” I grin. “Really? You’re yanking yourself? You like my story then?” “oooohhhhhhh yeah” “It’s all true baby, this is what I did last night” “hhmmmm” I groan lightly to him, trying to push him over the edge. “I’m about to cum now . . .” “I wish you could cum in my ass,” I whisper to him. That did the trick. We talked for another minute then he asked me to finish the story for him. The message was: XXX- hmmmmmmm, it turns me on so much that you called me on the phone to masturbate. I'm glad that you are enjoying my story . . . . I'll continue now. Ch. 12- I pressed slightly, then released, pressed, released - like jumping on a trampoline - pressed, released. I grabbed my butt cheeks, spread them wide and lowered myself down onto the tool until it was all the way in. Ch. 13- I found where I had left off in the story and started reading again, getting right back into it. I put my hand under the base of my toy - using my fingers to push it up while my rectum tried to push it back out. At the same time Ch. 14- I pushed the egg against my clit with the ball of my palm. I grabbed the remote and turned the egg on to a slow buzz just as the story men buried ball deep came into the woman. Electricity jolted through me. I increased the vibrations Ch. 15- and started rubbing my clit harder with the egg while rocking back and forth with the probe in my ass. The hole where the man's cock is supposed to be started trapping my juice as it ran out of my pussy Ch. 16- I ground my clit harder onto that vibrating egg, flipping the control from fast to slow at the same rhythm. I grabbed the table with both hands and rode on waves of pleasure for what seemed like forever. Ch. 17- I couldn't breathe as my legs clenched the sides of the chair. I ground my clit harder and faster as I finally started to cum. I slowed my rocking and turned off the egg. I contracted my muscles and felt the probe in my ass. God, it felt Ch. 18- great in there, I wanted to sleep with it there. I wondered what king of dreams that would invoke? I smiled slyly as I stood, my legs quivered. I lovingly washed my toy and packed it back into its box. Ch. 19- I went back to the table to shut down the computer and saw a small puddle on the chair where I had been sitting. Not wanting to leave a mess or waste anything so precious, I got on my knees and licked the chair clean. Ch. 20- I stumbled off to bed completely satisfied . . . for the night anyway! As I drifted off to sleep my thoughts were of you and K and what sort of fun awaits me this Saturday night when I see you again. Thank you for reading my first submission. I hoped you liked this true story. Please rate me and let me know, if you liked it I may write another!! Cell Phone Sighing deeply, I languidly reached up to unlock the door. Cell Phones Can Be Fun After years of carrying around our clunky old cell phones, Sara and I finally knuckled under and bought some of the new trendy little gadgets with cameras, games, and all that fun stuff. Little did we know what such a mundane transaction would lead to. We'd had the new phones for about six weeks when I went on a business trip for a couple of nights. I travel often and one of the things we love to do when I'm on the road is engage in some spirited phone sex. Our first cell phones—with their unlimited night time minutes sure brought down our phone bills. After Sara got the kids to bed, she'd call me in my room and we'd spend a happy hour together living out long distance fantasies. Sometimes I would tell her that I had a prostitute in the room with me who was sucking my cock as we talked. Other times she'd tell me about the plumber who had fucked her silly during the day, regaling me with every detail of his cock, his technique, and her shattering orgasms. Often I could hear a very real vibrator buzzing away at her end of the connection. When we'd both cum at last, we'd laugh about the fantasy play, make kissing noises at each other and fall happily to sleep. On my first trip with the new phone, Sara called me about 10:00. I had already showered and was lying nude in the bed, watching a porn movie on the television. Needless to say, given the action I was watching on screen, I was already very hard and ready to chat with my lover. "Hey babe," she purred into the phone. "Go check your email." "Now?" I asked. "Right now." "Okay, hold on," I said. Standing up, I crossed the room to my laptop, clicked on the email icon and checked my mail. I had two messages. One was from a grad student of mine, which I ignored, and the other was from Sara. This one, I noticed, had an attachment. "Okay," I said. "I'm opening your attachment now." "Mmmmm," she murmured. The picture that loaded up on my screen was a sight I'd seen a thousand times in my life...my wife's pussy, lips parted and moist. "Holy shit," I said. "What a view!" "You like big boy?" she asked. "You have to ask?" I replied. "I was hard before I saw this, but now I'm very hard." "Mmmmmm," she murmured again. "I just took that picture five minutes ago." "You did?" "Yep," she said. "I used the cell phone camera." "No shit!" I replied. "What a great idea." "Thanks sweetie," she said. "Now, how about sending me one of that hard cock of yours?" "Hang on," I said. I turned on the desk lamp to provide better lighting, pointed my phone at my now extremely hard cock and snapped a picture that showed the veins popping, the head much redder than the shaft. The picture looked good, so I saved it, then emailed it to Sara. Putting the phone back to my ear, I said, "Okay babe. My hard cock is on the way." "I can't wait," she replied. "But while I do wait, why don't you tell me all about that movie you were watching before I called you?" She knew me too well. So, I told her all about the twenty minutes of the flick I'd seen so far...it was about horny housewives who end up in three way sex with neighbors or friends. Three way sex was one of our recurrent fantasies, although neither of us had really ever pressed to act on it. It was mostly a lot of fun to think about and to play pretend while we were fucking or on the phone with each other. After a few minutes of this, Sara interrupted me to say that my message had arrived and that my cock was a beautiful sight. "I'm already so wet baby," she purred. "Seeing how hard you are makes me want to get down on my knees and suck you down my throat." "Yeah, baby," I replied. "I'd love that. But you'd have to wait your turn. The little co-ed I picked up in the bar tonight says she has first dibs." "Well then," she said. "Why don't you show her the new picture I just sent you?" I checked my mail again and this time was greeted by a shot of Sara's pussy lips closing around the head of one of her favorite vibrators. Over the next half hour or so, my wife and I emailed one another a couple of dozen photos of ourselves in various stages of excitement. It was one of the wildest nights of phone sex we'd ever had and when I got home from my trip, Sara was waiting for me in the bedroom, her legs spread wide and one of her hands buried in her cunt. She'd sent the kids to sleepovers at various friends' houses and was ready for some serious fucking. Needless to say, that's just what we did. The next morning I picked up my phone on the way to the car and when I tried to turn it on all I got on the screen was a parade of meaningless computer code. I turned if off, then back on again and the same thing happened. I tried taking out the battery and restarting it and again I got nothing but streaming code across the screen. Sara giggled. "Maybe you burned it out the other night in the hotel." We both laughed. On my way to work I stopped at the phone company store to get the phone fixed. Fortunately, it was still very new and so was under warranty. The nice young woman at the door directed me to the technicians' desk at the back of the store. As I approached the desk I was stunned to see what greeted me there. Instead of some pimply guy with thick glasses, the technician on duty was a young woman, maybe 20-22 years old. And she was anything but pimply! Although you'd probably call her face average, her body was world class. This I knew because she was wearing a black v-necked sweater that was cut way, way down, a white satin camisole that was cut only slightly higher, and some sort of push up bra that was causing her very ample cleavage to spill up and out of the opening in her layered tops. Her breasts were large, milky white and inviting. It was all I could do to wrench my eyes up to her face, which was crinkled in a wry smile. She knew the effect her clothes were having on me and was enjoying it. "Can I help you sir?" she asked. "Uh, yeah," I stammered. "My phone seems to have died on me. It's almost brand new, so it would be warranty service." "Let me take a look at it," she said, extending her hand. Her nails were a deep red and very carefully done. As I handed over the phone, I was able to take in the rest of the view. Her sweater made it almost to the waistband of her pants and a firm stomach peeked through the gap. She was quite thin. As I tried to watch her hands and not stare at her tits, she turned on the phone, looked at the screen, shook her head and said, "I've been seeing a lot of this problem with this phone. It's a software glitch. I'm going to have to give you a new phone. This one is dead." I must have looked a little dejected, because she smiled up at me and said, "Don't worry. I can have a new one for you in about 45 minutes." "Oh," I said. "I've got to be in class in half an hour, so I'll just pick it up after lunch if that's okay." She smiled. "Works for me." Then, "So you teach at the University?" "Yes," I said, smiling back. After all, her cleavage was spectacular and it would only take me 10 minutes to get from here to my classroom. "I teach American history." She smiled even wider. "I'm taking U.S. History right now, but not at the U. I'm at the community college." "Who's your professor?" I asked. "Dr. Albertson." "I know Dick. He was one of our grad students about ten years ago. That was before I got here, but I've met him." "He's kind of funny," she said. "He makes it interesting anyway." Now I really did have to go and I said so. "Okay," she said. "Just one thing. Any data on this phone...you know, phone numbers, pictures...I won't be able to recover it. My name's Angela if you want to call ahead to make sure it's ready." "Oh, sure," I said. "I guess I'll have to live with that." On my way to the car it occurred to me that it was a good thing that all that data was lost. After all, there were about a dozen pictures of my cock in various stages of arousal stored in that phone along with several more of Sara's cunt that I'd snapped the night before – "To keep me happy at work," I'd told her when I took them. After lunch I slipped off campus and headed back to the phone store. I had called and Angela told me she had my new phone waiting for me. I was a lot more excited about one last peek at her cleavage than I was about getting my phone back. As before, she was sitting behind the counter. I had to wait for a few minutes while she waited on a man in front of me. Even from behind I could tell that he gaze was glued downward onto her chest. She must enjoy the attention, I thought to myself. Otherwise she wouldn't dress that way on the job, especially sitting down behind a counter the way she did, forcing her customers to peer down at her. When it was my turn, Angela looked up and smiled broadly again. "Hi Dr. Jones. Your phone's all set." She then made me even happier by bending forward just a bit to retrieve my phone from a drawer in her counter. What a body she had. "Here you go," she said, handing me a new phone. "I hope you won't have any problems with this one." "Thanks Angela," I replied. I signed the receipt and was just about to go when she said, "Dr. Jones, I am sorry you lost all your data on the old phone. I hope you didn't have any pictures you wanted to save or anything." Something about the way she looked at me as she said that made me pause. "Uh, no," I said. "Nothing special." "Okay then," she replied. "Have a nice day." "You too," I said and headed back to the office. As much fun as I'd had ogling her cleavage, I didn't think anything more about Angela that day. But the following morning when I got to work and opened my email, I saw that I had a message from someone with the alias fonechik. The subject line read "About your old phone..." I was just about to delete it, given that it was almost certainly spam, but some little voice in my head said, "Read the message." So I did. To my surprise, it was from Angela. The note said: hey dr. jones. after you left the store yesterday i managed to repair your old phone after all. i've attached a file with the pics you had on there. i hope those are pics of your wife, not your girlfriend, lol. very nice pics of you too. lol. I stood up, closed my office door, then returned to my desk and opened the attachment. Sure enough, there were the pictures of my cock from the phone along with several pictures of Sara very excited anatomy. Wow! What a turn of events. I realized that I was experiencing a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. I'd told Sara about Angela—how I'd lusted after her tits and how glad I was that our pictures had been destroyed in the melt down of my phone. Sara had teased me a little, suggesting that I secretly hoped Angela had seen my cock pictures. Then she pushed me back on the bed and gave me a nice slow blowjob, insisting that I call her Angela while she sucked me. And now, here was Angela sending me pictures of my cock and my wife's cunt. That evening when I got home I told Sara that I had something important to tell her, but that it would have to wait until after the kids were asleep. "I'll just bet you do," she snickered. At 9:30, all was quiet in the house and I took Sara by the hand and led her down to our basement office. I dialed up my email, opened the message from Angela and then clicked on the file of pictures. "Oh my God!" Sara said. "I can't believe this!" "Yeah, I was as surprised as you," I said. "No," she said. "You don't get it. Look closer at the pictures of me." I did as I was told...after all, who wouldn't want to look at pictures of my wife's cunt, spread wide, lips engorged, juices flowing? And then it dawned on me! There were five pictures on my screen, but I had only taken four pictures of Sara. I leaned closer to get a better look at the fifth picture and sure enough, it was definitely not Sara's pussy lips that I was looking at! "She sent you a picture of her pussy," Sara said, her voice low and a little husky. "She had to know you'd notice. Allan, she wants to fuck you!" I had to admit, the possibility that this was a pick up attempt on Angela's part was certainly there. Quietly to myself I was thanking my lucky stars that I had shown Sara these pictures. No way could she accuse me of being on the wrong side of the law on this one. "I think you're right," I admitted. Then, looking closer, "And she does have a beautiful pussy, doesn't she?" Sara leaned forward a bit herself and said, "You're right. It is beautiful. Look at the differences between hers and mine. See how her outer lips are more prominent and the way her clit stands out? Look at mine. It's more hooded, even in that last one where I'm close to cumming." All this staring at very pornographic pictures was beginning to have an effect on me and I had to adjust my pants a bit to release some of the pressure that was building. Of course, Sara noticed. "Poor baby," she cooed. "This is making you horny isn't it?" "Uh-huh," I muttered. "And you?" "Take a look at this," she said and turned to face me. Her nipples were hard and pressing against the fabric of her t-shirt. She wasn't wearing a bra. Before we knew it, we were down on the floor in sixty-nine position, Sara's greedy mouth engulfing my cock while my tongue lashed back and forth against her clit. I came first, spurting into the back of her throat and then she ground herself down onto my face, moaning as she came too. "Wow," Sara said at last, rolling off of me. "That was incredible. I came very hard." "Me too," I agreed. "Yes, I noticed," she giggled. Then turning serious, she said, "Hear me out on something Allan." "Sure," I said, not certain where she was going. "You know how we've fantasized about threesomes in the past, right?" I nodded. "Well, what would you think about trying one with this Angela?" I was about to say something, but she held up her hand to shush me. "I mean, it's obvious that she wants you and, from what you've told me and what I've seen here, she's very hot. I think this could be our chance to try this out to see how we like it." I thought about it for a minute, not one hundred percent sure I wanted to say yes. After all, I'd read stories about couples, happily married like us, who tried the swinging lifestyle and then watched their marriage fall apart. I refocused on Sara and saw from the look on her face that this was something she really wanted to try. Then I remembered Angela's cleavage and said, "Babe, let's go for it and see what happens." Sara smiled from ear to ear, then took my cock in her hand and began massaging me back to life. Given what I was now thinking about, it didn't' take long. Late that night, after we were both exhausted, I sat back at the computer and responded to Angela's email. Dear Angela: Thanks for the message you sent me last night and for the pics. All of them. My wife Sara also wants to say thanks. In fact, we were hoping that the three of us could get together sometime soon, maybe Friday night, and the two of us could express our appreciation in person. Let me know. Allan Sara and I staggered off to bed. When I woke up the next morning, Sara was already dressed and wearing a huge grin. "I checked your email, honey," she said. "Angela says Friday would be great. I wrote her back and suggested drinks at the Radisson Hotel downtown. Eight o'clock. I had woken up with a hard on and wanted nothing more than to stick it in my wife right there, but I could hear the kids rampaging around the house, so I took a shower instead. Sara and I spent the next three days teasing one another about what was coming up, reassuring one another that we both wanted to go through with this, and getting very, very excited. When Friday arrived at last, we dumped the kids at friends' houses for the night, went home, showered and got dressed. Neither of us put on underwear...a little ritual we have when we're planning a night of serious fucking. Sara is a beautiful woman. At 43, she still has the body of a 30 year old, trim and athletic. Her tits are not large, but at 34C they aren't small either. The dress she was wearing accentuated all of her curves and the green pattern matched her incredible eyes. Just before we left the house, she backed up against me, grinding her ass into my crotch, making me moan. I ran my hands over her tits, getting a moan out of her in return. Walking into the hotel bar, I saw Angela sitting on a barstool. She was wearing a microscopically short black leather skirt and a red satin blouse that was unbuttoned as far as one can go without being asked to cover up. The edges of a black bra and lots of cleavage were visible as she turned to greet us. "Hi Angela," I said. "This is my wife Sara." Angela's eyes sparkled as she looked at Sara. I noticed that she very openly took in the entire view, from Sara's waist, up and over her tits, to her face. To my delight, Sara was doing the same, staring openly at Angela's chest. "Hi Sara," Angela said. "It's nice to meet you." "Likewise," Sara said. Yep, she was horny alright. Whenever she was really turned on her voice dropped a register and right she was on the verge of being a baritone. We took seats at the bar, one on either side of Angela. The bartender was standing close, so we ordered right away. Sara asked for a martini to match Angela's and I ordered a scotch and soda. While we were waiting for the drinks, Sara dove right in. "Thanks for sending back those pictures Angela." "You're welcome," she said, smiling. "I could tell they were the sort of thing you'd want back." "Yes," Sara said. "That's true. And thanks for the extra picture you included." "You noticed that, did you," Angela replied, smirking just a bit. "I know what my own pussy looks like," Sara said. "So I noticed it right away. Quite frankly, given as much time as Allan spends with his head between my legs, I'm amazed he didn't notice before I did." Angela turned to me, batted her eyelashes and said, "Bad boy, Dr. Jones." "Call me Allan," I said. "Guilty as charged." I could see that Sara was now very excited. Her nipples were pressing hard against her dress and her pupils were more than a little dilated. I knew how excited I was. After all, my pants were much tighter now than they had been when I put them on. Our drinks arrived and Sara and I both took large gulps. The scotch felt good going down...soothing and warming at the same time. Angela then raised her glass and clinked it with Sara, "To new friends," she said. "New friends," Sara repeated, as did I when Angela turned to me and we clinked glasses as well. Given what was going on, I made no pretence of not staring into her cleavage this time. It was truly something to behold. I wanted Angela to see me doing it, so I held my gaze on the creaminess of the curves bulging out of her blouse for a good ten or fifteen seconds before I looked up. Sara broke my reverie by saying in a softer voice than before, "Angela, Allan seems to be in love with your tits." Angela giggled. "He does, doesn't he." I nodded. What else could I do? "Well," Sara said, "you do have a very beautiful body." "Thanks," Angela replied. "And you are a very sexy lady yourself. I especially like the way that dress highlights your hips. I hope I look as good as you when I'm your age." "I'm sure you will," Sara replied, not taking any offense over the "at your age" comment. "The secret is plenty of exercise and regular sex." Now this was a side of Sara I'd never seen on public display before. With me she'd certainly been an aggressive lover, but when it came to letting anyone else know of her appetites, she'd always been circumspect. Not tonight. One thing that wasn't hurting was that she'd chugged her martini in only two or three swallows. Cell Phones Can Be Fun "Regular sex, eh?" Angela said, cocking an eyebrow at me. "I must admit I was impressed by the fact that the two of you have such an...adventurous...love life. The pictures I saw were really inspiring." I decided it was now or never. "Well then," I said, "how about seeing us in the flesh instead of just in a grainy picture." "I thought you'd never ask," Angela said, sliding off her barstool. I tossed too much cash on the bar and followed Sara and Angela out into the lobby. Those were two very spectacular asses to follow. Sara led the way across the lobby to the bank of elevators, punched the up button hard, then turned to me and smiled. Knowing her as well as I do, I could tell it was all she could do to not rip her dress off right there in the lobby. I was just glad there was no one there to see my cock pressing against the front of my pants. When the elevator arrived, the three of us piled in and I pressed 12. As soon as the car began to move upward, Sara put her hands on Angela's shoulders, looked her in the eye and said, "We've never done this before Angela." Angela looked deeply into my lovely wife's eyes, then whispered, "Neither have I." Sara then leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. Before I could blink, my wife and this hot young woman were kissing passionately as I leaned against the wall of the elevator car stroking my cock through my pants. The binging of the chime warned us that the door was about to open and Sara and Angela broke their clinch. Angela's lipstick was seriously smudged. We hustled our way down the hall to 1209. I pushed the key card into the door, pushed it open and held my arm out to the ladies to let them in. Closing and locking the door behind me, I turned to look at the room and found my wife and our young lover back in their clinch, both of them running their hands furiously over one another. I staggered to the windows, pulled the drapes, then plopped into a chair to watch the action. In the brief period of time it had taken me to close the drapes, Angela had unzipped Sara's dress and was helping her step out of it. As the dress fell to the floor, I was reminded for the four thousandth time what a sexy wife I have. Even standing there next to a woman twenty years younger, with a body that would stop traffic, Sara was incredibly hot. In some indefinable way, seeing Sara next to Angela made her look even better than usual. Her nipples are large and when they get hard like they were at that moment they looked like small fingers poking up off her chest. Her breath was ragged and her hands reached down to cup her tits and twist her nipples hard. "God you are sexy Sara," Angela murmured. "So sexy." "Shut the fuck up and get undressed," Sara ordered. "I want to see that body right now." Instead of ripping her clothes off as my wife commanded, Angela kicked off her shoes and climbed up onto the bed where she began a slowly gyrating striptease. As her hips swayed back and forth in fucking motions she ran her hands all over her body, paying particular attention to her tits. How I wanted to be those hands! Then she slowly, tantalizingly unbuttoned her blouse, drawing out the process as long as she could without stopping. I looked over at Sara. She had one hand planted firmly between her legs and the other was massaging her breasts roughly. At this rate, she'd cum shortly. Blouse unbuttoned at last, Angela then tugged it out of her skirt and shucked it off, tossing it to me. I caught it and sniffed it. Then I put it on the table next to me, unzipped and unbuckled my pants and squirmed them down, exposing my raging cock. Angela smiled at me, then went back to her dance. The sheer black lace bra she was wearing was almost more than I could bear. It pushed her glorious tits up spectacularly. Her hands came up and massaged them through the fabric, squeezing, pressing them together, pinching her hardening nipples. I heard Sara moan hard, looked at her and saw from the look in her eyes that she'd just had her first orgasm. From the smile on Angela's face, I could tell she recognized the sound as well. Then Angela reached up, undid the clasp between her tits and let them fall free. Jesus Christ! They were, well, perfect. Large, firm, with pronounced and very hard nipples. Blue veins showed in the whiteness of her skin. She took one in each hand, squeezed them together and pinched her nipples, sighing loudly. Now it was me who was close to cumming. I had to stop stroking my cock or I'd shoot right there. Seeing my distress, Angela pushed out her lower lip and said, "Poor baby. You're getting too excited aren't you?" I nodded convulsively and said, "Your tits are even more beautiful than my fantasies Angela." "Why thank you, Dr. Jones," she said. Clearly she liked the professor fantasy. Before she could continue, Sara jumped up on the bed behind her, wrapped her arms around Angela's waist and hugged her tightly. Then her hands wandered upward to the place I wanted mine to be, right on those tits. Angela moaned, ground her ass into Sara, slid one hand between her own legs and the other around her back to stroke Sara's ass. This was too much for my poor cock. Even without my stroking, I felt the orgasm rising from my balls and, rather than let it happen all by itself, I gave my cock several fast strokes that made large blobs of sperm fly out all over my chest and belly. Angel and Sara were now too into each other to even notice that I'd cum, so I just let the sperm lie there on me while I watched them. I saw one of Sara's hands snake down Angela's back and then heard a zipper going down. At last that micro skirt fell to the bed, exposing the neatly trimmed bush we'd seen in the picture she sent us. Like Sara, she had come out without panties. Even from where I sat, I could see that her outer lips were already engorged, poking outward. Sara's hand quickly found its target between Angela's legs and in short order her middle finger had vanished into those beautiful folds. Angela cried out in pleasure as Sara's finger entered her, then spread her legs giving my wife better access. The two of them swayed there standing on the bed for several minutes, my wife bringing this sexy young woman closer and closer to orgasm. In addition to being unbelievably erotic, this scene was also a little shocking to me, because in all of our fantasy play, Sara had never once brought up the possibility of sex with another woman. I knew from watching porn with her that it didn't repulse her, but it just wasn't something she'd ever seemed to be into. She was into it now, though. Angela finally reached down and pushed Sara's hand away. "Stop," she moaned. "I'm going to fall." Sara released her and the two of them dropped to the bed, my wife pushing our lover onto her back. Angela immediately reached under her knees, spread her legs wide, all but begging Sara to continue. Sure enough, Sara dove in. I had to move my chair to get a clear view of what was happening, so I used this opportunity to get completely naked. Sara's tongue was wandering all over Angela's dripping cunt, which by now was a deep red color. At one point when Sara pulled back to get a deeper breath of air, I could see Angela's very prominent clit standing up and begging for attention. And that's just what Sara gave it. When she bent back between Angela's legs, I saw her suck that clit into her mouth and, from the way her cheeks dented, I could tell she was sucking hard. Angela began to make little chirping noises and took Sara's head in her hands, pressing it hard between her legs. All at once, she let go of her legs, stretched them straight in the air and cried out. "Fuuuuuccckkk!" she moaned. "Oh fuck. Fuck! Don't stop." Sara clearly had no intention of stopping. In fact, she began to shake her head back and forth, but had also shown no sign of releasing the suction she had on Angela's clit. Angela began to buck now, still crying out "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Suddenly, she pushed Sara away violently and rolled on her side, one hand clasped over her pussy. Sara sat up and the two of us stared at Angela as she quivered there on the bed, the aftershocks of her orgasm washing over her. "Did you cum dear," Sara asked in a mocking voice. "Almost," Angela moaned. "Almost." Then she and Sara broke into crazy giggles. I sure loved that way that giggling made both of their tits jiggle. After a minute or so, Angela recovered her composure and grabbed Sara by the hand. "Now you," she purred. Sara imitated Angela's motions of a few minutes earlier, rolling onto her back, grabbing her knees and lifting her legs apart. I saw the cunt I'd seen thousands of times, wide and dripping. I could only imaging how close to cumming she was already. It turned out she was very close. Angela had only been down between her legs for a couple of minutes when Sara's hands came to Angela's head and began grinding her lover's face down. I knew that meant she was close and apparently so did Angela, because she shoved two finger's into my wife's cunt and started making some kind of motion that made Sara begin to emit little whimpers. I was guessing g-spot massage. Sure enough, Sara came hard and fast, crying out like Angela had, although less articulately. Mostly all that came out of her mouth was a kind of mewling sound she makes when she cums especially hard. As you might imagine, by now my cock was rock hard again. What to do? Well, that was simple. As Sara lay there shuddering, Angela was still on her knees and elbows between my wife's legs, her perfect ass jutting up off the end of the bed. What better place could there be for my cock? Without wasting another minute, I crossed the room and began to caress the cheeks of Angela's ass. She purred at me and Sara jumped. I realized Angela's mouth must still be on my wife's pussy. I slid one hand down between Angela's legs and was greeted by a drooling cunt that was oh so ready for me. Not one to waste time when fucking, I pressed the head of my cock against those wet lips and she pushed back against me to help me in. In one long slow stroke, I buried my cock to the hilt inside of her earning me a deep throated moan, only slightly muffled by Sara's crotch. I looked up from the sight of my cock disappearing into Angela and saw Sara staring at me with a kind of crazy look in her eyes. I smiled at her and she winked at me to let me know all was okay, as if I had any doubt! Because I'd cum once already, as excited as I was by fucking the tight and burning hot cunt of this beautiful young woman who was still eating my wife's pussy, I knew it would be some time before I came again, so I savored the feeling. My fingers danced across Angela's ass, around the cheeks and down the crack. This made her moan even more, something that clearly was making Sara happy. God this felt good! After a few minutes of fucking like this, Angela began to push back against me with more authority and it seemed to me that she might be close again. So, I picked up my pace, grabbing her hips to force her down onto my shaft. Sure enough, she pushed back even harder and faster and before long was grunting in that way some women do just before they cum. Sara was now talking to her. "Feel that hard cock fucking you Angela. It's a great cock. I ought to know. It's fucked me thousands of times. It's very hard, isn't it. He's a great fucker that husband of mine. That's it. Push down on it. Let it fill you all the way up." "Oh God!" Angela suddenly cried out, rising up off her elbows, reaching back and grabbing me around the head as I slammed into her. Sara threw herself down on the mattress at Angela's crotch, reached up and began to massage her clit with two fingers. Angela's motions quickened and her grunts got louder. I felt her cunt tighten on me and then she was crying out, writing against me as Sara milked her clit in time with my thrusts. As her orgasm subsided, Angela flopped back down on top of my wife, pinning her to the bed, but not releasing my cock. I could feel her convulsing on the shaft. "Wow!" she said. "That was incredible." "Mmmm," Sara murmured from beneath her. I ran my finger tips up and down her back and slowly and gently began to push back in and out of her. This was apparently too much, because she reached back to make me stop. "Can't," she moaned. "Not yet. Let me rest." I pulled out of her, my cock glistening with her juices and Angela rolled off Sara, who sat up and smiled. Our new lover's tits were now flattened down on her chest and I couldn't resist any more. "I know you want to wait, but just let me touch those tits I've lusted after for so long," I said. "Sure Dr. Jones," she said. "Do what ever you want." I took one in my hand and felt its softness, its firmness. Sara had only had tits this large and full when she was breast feeding and it felt good to hold and caress them at last. I looked up to see my wife caressing the other one in much the same way. "Nice tits, eh?" Sara said. "Very nice," I agreed. "Very nice." The two of us worshiped Angela's breasts for a few minutes, an act that led to no slackening in my erection. Noticing this at last, Sara lay back on the bed next to Angela spread her legs again and said, "Babe, will you fill me the way you just filled Angela?" I smiled, crawled up on the bed and began rubbing the head of my cock against Sara's clit. I know she loves this, so I prolonged it as long as I could stand, then in one quick stroke buried myself to the hilt in her cunt. She grunted just a little, grabbed my ass, and began to help me drive into her. The slapping sounds we made as we slammed into each other got louder as we found our rhythm. It felt so good that for a minute I actually forgot that Angela was lying there next to us. She made sure I didn't forget for long, though, because a hand that was not my wife's was suddenly on my balls, caressing them as I stroked into Sara. It didn't just feel good. The fact that it was my fantasy come true made it almost too much to stand. I quickened my pace, driving harder and harder into Sara. From the way her nails were biting into my ass, I could tell she was close again. Now it was Angela who started talking dirty. "Sara, your husband's cock is splitting you open. I can see it all from back here. Your cunt is drooling. I'm fondling his balls and if he's not careful I'm going to shove a finger up his ass. Speaking of ass, I can see your asshole too. It's very pink and inviting. Maybe later I'll lick it. God, watch that cock slam into you. So hot, so hot." This was too much for poor Sara. She began bucking wildly against me and came not once but twice as I drove home again and again. I would have cum myself, but she pushed me off, the feelings of her second orgasm just too intense. Rolling over onto the bed, gasping, I lay there with my dripping cock sticking straight up in the air. Before I could say anything, Angela climbed on top of me and impaled herself on me. I reached up for those tits as they bounced before my gaze while she rode up and down. "Just fuck me Dr. Jones," she said. "I want you to cum deep inside me. Fill me with your hot cum! Fuck my tight young cunt. Squeeze my tits. Pinch them! Hard. That's it. Fuck me. Fuck me hard!" Now it was too much for poor me. I grabbed a tit in each had, holding on for dear life as I rammed upward, throwing Angela up into the air and then down again on my cock. The explosion that surged out of me was so powerful that I think I must have blacked out for a second or two. I felt like my balls had been forced up and out through the head of my cock. "Wow," I heard Sara murmur in a voice that seemed far away. "I've hardly ever seen him cum that hard. You are quite a fuck Angela." Then the two of them dissolved into giggles again. Angela rolled off me and onto Sara and the two of them cuddled together, leaving me to catch my breath next to them. We fucked once more that night after a three way shower, but slower and more romantically. Angela watched us fuck at first, masturbating in a chair next to the bed, then sat on Sara's face as I slid in and out of her. Our final orgasms of the evening were not as powerful, but they were just as satisfying. Then we fell asleep in a mess of sheets and pillows. I would have gladly fucked Angela again in the morning, but she had slipped out on us before we woke up. At first, we were very disappointed to find her gone, but Sara found a note on the sink that read, "That was the best night of fucking of my life. Please call me again soon! Angela." You won't be surprised to hear that we have a date with Angela again this coming weekend.