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Sorry, Wrong Number
“BRRRRRRINNNNGG” the phone shrilled insistently as I was climbing out of the shower. I swore, grabbing a towel and hastily wrapping it around me. I stopped running. The answering machine would get it. If it was important, whoever it was would leave a message. I started toweling off. The machine clicked off without anyone leaving a message. No one important, then, I decided. I was just drying my legs when the phone rang again. Hmm. That only happens when someone really wants to get a hold of me. I dropped the towel and ran.
“Hello?” I said breathlessly. There was only silence. “Hello?” I tried again. Still nothing. “Hello!” I was just about to hang up when a deep, masculine voice answered me.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone to pick up,” he said. “Who is this?” I asked. “Umm, you don’t know me. I thought I was calling my friend Tony, but I got your number instead. I really liked your answering machine message, so I called back to listen to it again. I didn’t think anyone was there. I’m really embarrassed,” the voice said. I laughed. “Well, I’m glad you liked the message.” Then I frowned. “Wait a minute, if you dialed a wrong number, how did you know what number to call back?” I wasn’t usually suspicious, but this was the big city, and you couldn’t be too careful.
“Oh, I just hit redial,” he explained. “Well, d-uh,” I laughed, “of course you did. But you know you got me out of the shower!” Silence again. Oh, oh, too much information! My mouth was forever getting me in trouble. I had to learn to think before I opened it.
“You.. just got out of the shower?” he said slowly. “Well, yes,” I answered, “and now I’m the embarrassed one. Too much information, I know!”
“No, no, don’t be embarrassed. We’re both adults, right?” “Yessss.” I agreed tentatively. “So will it embarrass you if I tell you that you have the sexiest voice I have ever heard on a telephone?” I laughed. “Yes, I will be embarrassed!”
“But you do have the sexiest voice I’ve ever heard. That’s why I wanted to call back. I wanted to hear it again. I have to tell you, I’ve never had a voice affect me the way yours does.” My curiousity was aroused. “My voice affects you?”
“Oh, yes. It definitely does. You should be a phone sex girl!” I laughed again. “Oh, I wouldn’t be any good at it. I’d just laugh the whole time.” “You know there’s good money in it! You seriously should consider it.” I laughed again. “Thanks, but I have a job I really love. And phone sex girl is not in my top ten list of jobs I want to do.” His turn to laugh. “All right, but if you ever want to practice, I’m very willing to help!”
“How could you help me?” I asked, not thinking yet again. I could hear his smile in his voice. “I’d be more than willing to have phone sex with you.”
“Oh, my God!” I laughed. “I don’t think I could do that, even with my boyfriend.”
“You have a boyfriend?” he sounded sad. “No,” I said, “but even if I did, I don’t think I could have phone sex with him.” “So there’s nothing to stop you having phone sex with me?” he asked. Why I didn’t hang up, I couldn’t say. But there was something in his voice. It was deep and warm and sexy. And my well-developed sense of adventure was kicking in.
“No, I admitted, “There’s nothing to stop me, except me.” “Why would you want to stop yourself from experiencing something really hot and exciting?” he wanted to know. “There’s the little fact that I don’t know you, I know nothing about you, and I don’t sleep around. Especially with guys I don’t know!” He was very persuasive. “But it’s not sleeping together. We don’t ever have to meet. I don’t know what you look like, or your name, and you don’t know what I look like, or my name. It’s completely anonymous. Admit it, that turns you on, doesn’t it? You can have sex, so to speak, with a complete stranger, and no one will ever know except you and me.”
“Okay, I’ll admit it’s tempting, and exciting. But I’m not the kind of girl who does that. “
“You’re not a girl. You’re all woman,” he said, “I can tell by your voice. And you’re naked, aren’t you?” Even though he couldn’t see me, I blushed. “Yes, I am,” I choked out. “And you’re excited, aren’t you?” I looked down. My nipples were like rocks, and there was a twisting, a gathering tension, in my lower body. My pussy was suddenly all live nerve endings. I didn’t say anything.
“You are, aren’t you?” he said, “I can hear it in your breathing. Your nipples are hard, and if you touched them, I wouldn’t even know.” One of my hands came up and started stroking my breast. Closer and closer to my nipple it got. My breath quickened.
“Oh,” he whispered, “You’re touching it now. I want you to know that my nipples are hard, too, and I’m rubbing them. It feels sooo good, and my cock is getting harder and harder. I’ve been hard since the first time I heard your voice.” My fingers circled my nipple and tugged. I bit back a moan. I tugged harder, feeling my pussy tingle and moisten in response.
“Lay down,” he said. I couldn’t help myself, I laid down on the bed. My hand was still playing with my nipple. I slid it over to the other one. My legs parted of their own volition.
“Take your hand and put your fingers in your mouth. Get them really wet, then rub your nipples again.” I tucked the phone between my shoulder and my ear, wet both hands and began stroking and pulling on my nipples. I was making little breathy moans. He moaned in my ear.
“Yes, that’s it. I love to hear you, hear your excitement. My cock is so hard, and there’s already a drop of precum on the tip. But I’m not touching it, not yet. I’m just playing with my balls, and with my nipples. I’m waiting to touch it until you touch your pussy. Are you ready to touch your pussy? Your hot, wet, aching pussy, that needs to be stroked and rubbed and filled full of hard cock?” I moaned. “Answer me,” he demanded. I bit my tongue. “Answer me, or I’m going to hang up,” he threatened.
“I’m ready,” I whispered. “Good,” he purred, “take your hand and slide it over your pussy. Not between the lips, not inside, just over. Rub it gently.” I quickly slid a hand down between my legs, barely touching. My hips jerked up, my pussy begging for release.
“Not yet,” he warned, “keep rubbing the outside. It’s wet and aching, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Spread your legs really wide,” he instructed. God help me, I did just as he said. I spread my legs as wide as they would go. My pussy was exposed, and the breeze from the window blowing on it was making it ache even more.
“Please,” I begged. “Please, what?” he said. “Please,” I begged again. “Please, what?” he said. “Please, please, let me touch it,” I was beyond embarrassment, beyond caring about anything but a huge, explosive orgasm.
“Good girl,” he said, “take one finger and slide it between your lips. Up and down from your hot hole to that throbbing little button that needs to be touched. Doesn’t that feel good?” his breath was getting harsher.
“Yes, yes,” I moaned. My pussy was hot, wet, slick, throbbing, demanding an orgasm. “That finger is my tongue,” he said, “ feel it licking, licking, licking. Up and down, around the edge of your sweet hole, back up over that hard little clit.” My finger slid easily up and down my soaked pussy.
“You want me to fuck you, don’t you?” he demanded. “You want my big, hard cock sliding inside you, pounding you, over and over, deeper and harder and faster until your hot, wet pussy explodes around it.” “Yes, yes, please, fuck me!” I cried out.
“Ram those fingers inside your hot cunt,” he said, “nice and hard. Fuck yourself the way you want me to fuck you.” I jammed two fingers inside me. My hips rocked up and I pounded them in and out. I was moaning and sighing, whimpering, so close to coming. “Fuck me, fuck me, yes, oh, my God, yes!” I shouted.
“Come for me, that’s a good girl, come around my huge, hard cock and make me fill your cunt with my juice.” I fucked my fingers furiously, my other hand sliding down and rubbing my clit.
“Oh, my God, yes, yes, God I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming!” I screamed, my whole body exploding in the biggest orgasm I’d ever had. I kept fucking myself, and the feelings went on and on and on.
“Don’t you stop!” he commanded, “keep those fingers going, I’m still fucking you, my mouth is sucking on your nipples and my cock is pounding you, stretching that tight, wet pussy, and you’re going to come again before I do.” My fingers moved even faster inside me, if that was possible. I couldn’t think, I could only feel, only keep fucking myself.
“Oh, God, you’re so tight, so wet, so hot,” he moaned, “wrap your legs around my waist and let me fuck you hard.” “Don’t stop,” I breathed. “Not going to stop, not ever, just keep fucking and fucking, this big cock in your hot cunt, feel it deep inside, you’ve never had anything like this, so good, so hard, so deep. Fuck yes, I’m gonna come and you’re gonna come with me.” My back arched, my head thrashing from side to side, I cried out, “Oh, yes, yes, I’m coming, coming, coming, coming, yes, yes, oh GOD!” He yelled out at the same time. I nearly fainted from the pleasure. So intense! My pussy just throbbed and quivered, my body trembled, my legs were weak. I just lay there for a couple of minutes, my breathing slowly coming back to normal. My God, what had I just done?
I didn’t know what to do. Just hang up? But he could phone me anytime. He had my number now.
“Wow,” he said, “that was fantastic.” I didn’t say anything. “You’re embarrassed, aren’t you?” “Yes,” I admitted. “Please, don’t be. You’re the most exciting woman I’ve met in a long time. I know you don’t know me, but I would love to meet you in person.”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” I stammered. “Why not?” he said, “Is it because you’re embarrassed?” “Yes!” I said.
“I assure you I’m not a serial killer or a stalker, just a nice normal guy. This isn’t something I do, either! I’ve never done this before. I tell you what. Let’s agree to meet in a public place, with lots of people around. That way, if you don’t like me or I don’t like you, we can just agree to part and that’s the end of it. I won’t call you again, I swear.” I hesitated. “Come on,” he said, “I dare you.” That did it. I was never one to pass up a dare. “All right,” I said, “Let’s meet at the coffee house on Oxford and Cheney. Do you know the place?” “Yes, I do,” he said, “What time?” “Oh, let’s say, a half hour from now. That doesn’t give either one of us time to get cold feet.”
“How will I know you?” he asked. I laughed. “I’ll be the one by the pay phone, of course!”
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