I've Got You on Speed Dial

[SweetAsSuga]

Closed for Gr8chtr


"Ooo that's it baby, fuck me with that big juicy cock. Mmm, yes, I love how big you feel inside me." Jen moaned softly as she lay back on her bed, her lips parted as she panted softly. "Oh god I'm so close, baby. Harder. Shove that beefy cock inside me! Oh yes!" She squealed loudly, arching her back to adjust the pillow beneath it as she carefully moved the phone to her other ear so as not to smudge the nails she had just painted. The Very Berry Red was the perfect shade to go with her new sweater, which she was planning on wearing to Girl's Night later that evening.

As the man on the other end of the phone - he hadn't given a name, which was not unusual. most men wanted to keep it anonymous - grunted as he came, Jen wondered where they would go tonight. The girls would meet up at her apartment and then decide from there. Already Jen had her outfit planned; her new oversized, ivy green cashmere sweater, skinny jeans and the cute suede ankle boots she had splurged on the other week. Simple and classy, just like Jen.

"God fuckin' damn you are worth every penny." John Doe - or as Jen liked to refer to the anonymous ones, JD - grunted in what she could only assume was meant to be a seductive growl.

"It was my pleasure, baby." Jen purred as she surveyed her toes, debating whether she should touch up the polish on them.

They hung up and Jen lay back with a sigh and glanced at the clock. The call, or rather JD, had barely lasted five minutes, but that was still fifty bucks in Jen's pocket.

Standing, Jen stretched and wandered into the kitchen. It was barely noon and already she had taken seven calls, each one at least five minutes. Not a bad start to the day. Three more and she could afford the handbag she'd been eyeing for the past few weeks. As she filled a glass with water her phone rang and she quickly moved back into her bedroom.

"This is Audrey, darling," she purred, "how can I make your dreams come true?"


~*~*~

Strolling through the door, Jen glanced about the book shop, adjusting her black plastic frames as she took in the people surrounding her. It was early yet and Red Couch Books was barely full. A soft hum of conversation filled the shop, the kind of hum that could easily lull a person to sleep if one was not careful. It was this lazy thrum of life that made it Jen's favorite time of day to visit the small bookstore.

Moving through the shelves with the surety of someone who had traversed the same path many times, Jen's finger trailed over the spines of the books as she passed them; the feel and smell of the books was as familiar as her own reflection. She breathed deeply, taking in the heady scent of the pages that held so much promise and the fresh roasted coffee from the coffee shop tucked in the back corner of the store. This was Jen's heaven on earth.

The Classics section was all but abandoned as Jen rounded the corner of the aisle. Her book club had just finished Count of Monte Cristo and, now on an Alexander Dumas kick, had selected Man in the Iron Mask as their next book. While Jen's bookshelves were packed to bursting with books of every genre and by every author, Dumas was one author she had yet to acquire. Thus the impromptu trip to Red Couch.

Absently playing with the end of her ponytail as she browsed for the book in question, Jen was so focused on the shelves in front of her that she didn't even notice the man standing in the aisle with her until she ran straight in to him.

"Oh, I am so sorry." She muttered, her cheeks flushing as she adjusted her glasses nervously.

 

[Gr8chtr]

Lying on his bed with nothing on but his BVDs, Matthew Greeley, Ph.D. stared at his iPhone. He had been doing so for 25 minutes, uncharacteristic for a man who seldom wasted much time. It had been four years since Sarah left him, walked out of this very apartment never to speak to him again. Their relationship that had been fueled by their mutual love of books, long intellectual discussions, and energetic, exuberant sex was simply gone. In the succeeding four years Matthew had had a handful of dates and no more physical contact with a woman other than a chaste kiss at the end of an evening.

His career was too demanding to allow for the time-consuming demands of meeting women, finding out if they were eligible, and going through the dating ritual, he told himself. That was true, in part, but what was more true was that Matthew was shy, at least when it came to approaching strangers, especially potentially dateable women. The undergraduate and graduate students that he taught and his university colleagues would not have imagined him to be this shy, but there it was.

Matthew was, he had to admit, lonely and very horny. His work, in fact, was not enough to fill his life and his frequent pleasuring of himself while fantasizing about some beautiful woman didn't completely sate that appetite either. He needed to touch a woman, or at least hear a woman's voice in his ear. Hence, here he was, staring at his iPhone, on which he had punched in all but the last of the 10 digits of the 900 number that the internet ad said would lead to having all of your desires fulfilled. He had to decide; he had to teach a class in two hours. Matthew hit the last digit, then hung up before anyone answered. This was for another day; or, probably, never.

----------------------------
Matthew loved Red Couch Books. He was actually known by face and name by some of the workers. His department chair had asked him to develop a new course, American Intellectual Thought in the Mid-20th Century. God, it was a great opportunity but a huge challenge. He would need to bone up on literature, art, science, politics, and try to weave them all together. He loved it, and he had six months to do the research. He decided to start by revisiting one of his all-time favs - John Steinbeck. Matthew's apartment had once held all of Steinbeck's novels, but they were Sarah's, and left when she did. One of the delights of Red Couch Books was that it had a "Classics" section, arranged alphabetically by author, where you could easily find an author like Steinbeck.

Given the work schedule that he had set out for himself for the evening, and the fact that it was 8:30 and he still hadn't eaten, Matthew should have headed straight to the "S" section, but he had a nearly life-long habit of browsing book titles. When doing so he frequently became so engrossed that he barely knew what was going on around him. Once, in fact, he had actually knocked over a librarian who was shelving books. Surprisingly, she found his absent-mindedness more endearing than irritating; they dated for two months. In his own true fashion, Matthew didn't even notice the woman standing next to him in Red Couch Books until she ran straight into him.

Oh, I am so sorry.

Matthew took in what he saw, and liked it. He held a glance with her only for a flitting moment; he was clearly competitive for the local boy-meets-girl shyness prize. Ordinarily, Matthew would have just said "no problem" and moved on, but he felt drawn somehow to her. "Dumas, I see", offered Matthew, "a true classic if there ever was one." The young woman started to turn back to the bookshelf. Before she could pivot, Matthew stuck out his hand and introduced himself. "Um, I am embarrassed to say", he started, "that I have never actually read a Dumas. Would you consider enlightening me a bit if I bought us some coffee?" "I'm offering just coffee, nothing more", he quickly added.

 

[SweetAsSuga]

Jen stared at the hand held out to her a moment longer than necessary before finally placing her hand in his with a shy, tentative smile.

"I'm Jen." She introduced herself, clutching tightly to the book in the hand not claimed by the mysterious stranger in front of her. Trying not to be obvious, Jen allowed her gaze to take him in; starting with the dark scruff that lined his strong jaw and traveling down his long, lean figure. Damn he was attractive. Jen had never done well with attractive men, they often left her feeling tongue tied and flustered.

Ironic as it was, Jen was horrible when it came to men. As sad as it was the woman who made her living giving men their fantasies had zero game in real life. Sure she'd dated in the past, back when boys had been just as awkward as she; but now it wasn't boys she was attracted to, it was men. And men were a whole different ball game.

This man standing in front of her, though, he was different. There was still a sense of awkwardness to him and it called out to Jen like an old friend.

"Um...I'd be happy to get coffee. I don't know much about Dumas myself, my book club just started reading him. If you're really interested in discussing his work you should join us sometime." She bit her lip nervously. Where had that invitation come from? "I mean, if you're not busy or anything. Which I'm sure you have better things to do than hang out with a bunch of women who like to talk too much and show off the pomposity that an English Lit degree gives you." Jen blushed as she babbled incessantly. Drawing in a deep breath she forced her lips into a polite and, what she hoped was, self-assured smile. "Yes, coffee sounds good."

 

[Gr8chtr]

As he and Jen moved to the coffee shop area of Red Couch and he formally introduced himself to her, Matthew had more opportunities to take in this young woman. She was, he quickly realized, very attractive physically, as well as someone who was rather intellectual. He liked both parts of that image, but he tried to stick to thinking about Jen "as a person". Matthew didn't particularly like men who gaped at women shamelessly.

As they walked, Matthew realized that many men in such a situation would initiate a light physical touch, such as putting his hand lightly on the small of the woman's back - allegedly guiding her to a seat, but really communicating interest in more physical contact. He considered doing so, but this was just too much of a bold move for a man with Matthew's social awkwardness in potentially romantic situations.

Drinking his coffee slowly, Matthew greatly enjoyed listening to Jen talk about her current understanding of Dumas' work, her involvement in the book club, and other literary topics. He kept up his side of the conversation. Matthew had little social awkwardness when in intellectual discussions, even with attractive women. As he immersed himself in this dialog with Jen his earlier thoughts about her physically receded into the background. This was good. He liked this.

Then, damn, it happened. Even though Jen had nervously adjusted her glasses when she bumped into him, Matthew had not really paid much attention to them. His gazes had gone a little farther south. Now he focused on those black plastic frames. Sarah - the ex-lover who had walked out of his life - had a pair of nearly identical frames. She didn't wear glasses most of the time, but had a pair for use during extensive reading. Sarah and Matthew spent countless nights curled up with their books on the opposite ends of their couch, stocking-toed feet touching lightly. Occasionally, while looking up from their reading their gazes met, typically only briefly, each of them returning to their beloved book. But, by established tradition, if during such a moment Sarah took off her glasses and laid them aside, it was the signal to start passionate kissing and other foreplay. Half the time they never made it to their bedroom; their old, over-sized couch or the living room rug becoming their love nest. Noticing Jen's glasses set off a rapid set of scenes of sex and romance in Matthew's mind, not to mention setting off an instant erection.

Matthew was convinced, correctly or not, that during his reverie he had been staring at Jen for several moments. Embarrassed by that possibility and the feeling of nakedness as though Jen could read his thoughts, Matthew could feel himself blushing. Pulling himself together as much as possible, he managed to say quietly, "Thanks, Jen, for the coffee and the great conversation." Grabbing a paper napkin and scribbling on his e-mail address, Matthew continued, "I would be delighted to attend the next meeting of your book club. Here's my e-mail, just let me know." With that, Matthew stood up - perhaps too abruptly - cautiously offered his hand again to Jen, and strode quickly out of one of his favorite places.

 

[SweetAsSuga]

There was an awkwardness about Matthew that Jen found endearing as it perfectly matched her own. She could sense the hesitation in each of his movements, as if second guessing each little action. As she sat there, sipping her coffee, she could feel his gaze on her, burning into her with an intensity that had Jen blushing. True she didn't know what was going on in his mind, but she had been in the business long enough to know what types of thoughts were going through his head.

Conversation flowed easily - well as easily as it could for two people who were more at home with their noses in a book - and Jen found herself having a genuinely pleasant time. Too soon though, Matthew was thanking her for coffee and passing her a napkin with his e-mail address scribbled across it.

"We'd be happy to have you." Jen told him, smiling shyly. He stood quickly, moving so fast that the chair nearly toppled over behind him. Jen bit her lip to keep from chuckling. She shook hands with him, his palm warm against hers and, before she knew it, he was gone.

"What an odd duck." She muttered as she gathered her book and threw her empty coffee cup in the trash.

~*~*~

It was late by the time Jen got home that night. After the bookstore she had headed over to the park to read for awhile, enjoying the last bit of crisp fall weather before winter set in. And, like usual, she had completely lost herself in the book and lost all track of time. Too late she realized that she should have been home hours ago, no doubt her phone had been ringing off the hook and some of her regulars were probably wondering where the hell she'd gotten to.

True to form the moment that Jen stepped inside her apartment the phone began to ring. Dropping her book - which she was already half-way finished - onto the coffee table, she grabbed the phone and collapsed on the couch, pulling her shoes off as she answered.

"This is Audrey, darling. What is your pleasure?"

 

[Gr8chtr]

Matthew left the Red Couch bookstore and cafe' setting straight out to his apartment - an easy 15-minute walk given his typical pace. As always, he had enjoyed his diversion into the Red Couch - a trip that was ostensibly about his scholarship, but really was an excuse to take in the wonderful aroma and atmosphere of a place dedicated to books - but he especially enjoyed his accidental meeting of Jen and their follow-up conversation over coffee. Notwithstanding his delight, Matthew realized that he had not yet even begun the work that he had planned for this evening and, thus, was intent on buckling down for at least 3 hours worth of scholarly endeavor. It didn't work; Matthew's brain was willing, but his emotions and his libido were not.

Matthew pulled out his research notes, but images of Jen kept flooding his mind. The images were curious, he thought, because they were intertwined mixtures of Jen's mind and body. He also felt drawn to her as something like a kindred spirit, bookish, more than a little shy, but an animated conversationalist once the conversation turned intellectual. Although they had just met, and only briefly, the images of her were almost like the proverbial comfortable, old shoe. "Shit," Matthew thought as he jolted himself from his reverie, "I'm fantasizing Jen as Sarah. Stop it! Sarah's gone, and not coming back. Jen is a woman who you just met briefly over a book conversation. She probably has boyfriend. Or, for that matter, she may have no interest in sex or romance at all." Matthew scolded himself, "Put your lonely, horny thoughts aside and get to work!"

Self-admonishment didn't work any better than focused intent. In addition to the lingering images, or more likely because of them, Matthew was getting more horny by the minute. He needed release. Although he thought that he would never return to his impulse of a few days earlier, Matthew stripped to his BVDs, picked up his iPhone, and punched in the 900 number and waited for the answer. This time, he didn't hang up.

This is Audrey, darling. What is your pleasure?

Matthew panicked. He had no plan. He had never called a sex phone line before, and had never had phone sex except for one time when Sarah was at a conference and called him from her hotel room. But that was different, they just talked out a sex scene that they often actually performed. What the fuck was he supposed to say?

It took Matthew so long to say anything that he thought that "Audrey" might have hung up already. Besides, in his wound up state, Audrey's voice seemed vaguely familiar. Matthew finally spoke, or at least sputtered, "Um...hello, uh..Audrey. Well...maybe we could...um...pretend that we were on a date, and...um...maybe you came back to my apartment, you know, like at the end of some dates. Then...um...maybe we would be sitting on my couch...um...having tea or wine or something...um...and then...um...I would reach over and kiss you....then...um...well...maybe, Audrey, you could sort of take it from there....maybe? Please?

 

[SweetAsSuga]

Jen couldn't help the soft smile that graced her lips as she heard the fumbling voice on the other end. She loved the nervous ones, the newbies who didn't know what they were doing when it came to phone sex. It was like taking a boy's virginity without all the painful, inexperienced prodding.

"Perhaps you could tell me where we went on this date of ours." Her voice took on a soft cooing, as if coaxing a skittish animal as she curled up on the sofa, legs tucked up beneath her. "Were you a perfect gentleman? I bet you were. I can tell by your voice that you know how to treat a woman. And I know you won't make a move unless I want you to. The two of us sitting on your couch, sipping wine and laughing, talking about our days, my hand casually touching your arm. Can you see how much I want to kiss you? The subtle tilt of my head as I bite my lower lip. We had such a great time and now, sitting beside you, I can't help but want you. To feel your lips pressing against mine and your body warm and tight against me."

As she spoke, Jen couldn't help but think of Matthew and their meeting at the bookstore. It had been so random, so out of the blue to run into someone she felt an immediate connection with. But she did. Jen felt that connection keenly and, though she didn't want to get her hopes up, she wondered if he would come to book club.

 

[Gr8chtr]

Matthew was stunned. Having never had a conversation with a phone sex worker, he imagined that such women had only a coarse and lewd vocabulary and speaking style. Matthew had no objection to "talking dirty" during sex. In fact, if someone had eavesdropped on him and Sarah at the peak of their lovemaking, the listener would more likely have heard "fuck me harder" or "stroke my cock", than some tender words of love. And, "talking dirty" drove both of them to higher states of passion, but Matthew generally was turned off by both men and women who were loud and course. He had assumed that he would just have to tolerate such brutality in the service of being aroused by a professional sex worker.

So, Matthew never expected Audrey to pick up his fantasy narrative with nuance and a soft voice. Moreover, Audrey's soft cooing had the effect of again pulling up mental images of this woman, Jen, whom he had only just met. It had only been 10 minutes since he had last checked his e-mail, for about the 10th time this evening, to see if Jen had sent him information about her next book club meeting.

Audrey's soft voice and romantic verbal imagery had two other effects, however. First, her voice instantly made Matthew's partial erection become absolutely full. Second, her continuation of his romantic narrative allowed him to relax at least a bit and to continue where she had left off. Matthew was, at his core, a writer. Audrey's sensitive response to his painfully awkward beginning allowed him to find his muse. With something of a surprisingly warm feeling, Matthew continued.

"Feeling your body warm and tight against me and seeing the tilt of your head as you subtly bite your lower lip in anticipation, I slide my hand gently, but firmly, behind your neck and pull us into a kiss. A first kiss that is more than a chaste, friendly expression of warmth, but one that is suggestive and inviting, not demanding. I wait for your response. When you return my kiss enthusiastically, I press my advantage with a passionate, open-mouthed kiss, my tongue flicking against your lips, asking you to invite me further. Holding you this close, I can smell the bouquet of your body and feel the heat of your rising passion. I firmly place my other hand just above your waist and just below the outline of your luscious breast constrained under your tight blouse."

By the end of his six-sentence depiction, Matthew found his heart racing and sweat beginning to roll down his nearly naked body. Between short, gasping breaths, he managed to get out, "Audrey, it's your turn, I think."

 

[SweetAsSuga]

Well somebody had a way with words. Jen couldn't help but smile at the articulate and downright prosaic words that wove together over the phone line. She had grown too used to men who could communicate only in grunts and one or two word sentences, leaving her to spin the tale of their sexual escapade while they were busy jerking off. To finally have a client who enjoyed weaving a narrative, who understood that good sex - even it was only over the phone - was a team effort and required both parties to contribute, was a delight. And here she had thought that this man would be a bumbling idiot from the way their conversation had started. What a pleasant surprise to find that he wasn't.

"My fingers twine through the hair at the nape of your neck, pulling you closer as I tilt my head and allow you entrance to my mouth. My heart beating rapidly beneath my breast as your tongue brushes mine in a tantalizing kiss." She moaned softly, the sound vibrating deep within her as she sat back on the couch, her eyes drifting closed as she pictured the scene playing out in her mind.

"I can taste the wine on your lips," Jen purred. "My skin burns, itching with desire as your hand rests just beneath my breast. My stomach in knots as I wrap my hand around yours and pull it up, silently demanding your touch on my breast. You can feel my nipples, hard as pebbles beneath the layers of clothing. I crave your touch, to feel your skin on mine."

Unbidden, Jen's hand snaked beneath her shirt, moving slowly up her stomach to cup her breast. She gasped as the heat of her palm encompassed the tender flesh. Her arousal growing with each word she spoke, something that had not happened in a very long time.

 

[Gr8chtr]

Audrey's erotic narrative seized Matthew's mind. Images of the scene that they were co-constructing became more vivid with each phrase that purred from her lips. The image of the woman in the scene drifted though, shifting back and forth between Sarah and this new woman, Jen, that Matthew had just met. The imaginary Sarah was more familiar and comfortable, but somehow the imaginary Jen seemed more compelling.

As hot as he was, Matthew wanted this dance that he and Audrey were having to go on as long as possible. It was nearly as good as the real thing; building the narrative piece-by-piece was what made it so real. But, there was the practical issue of the $10.00/minute charge. Matthew was reasonably well compensated by the university, but $100 was still real money. What rational part of his brain had not been already completely seduced prodded him to hurry up and get on with it.

Then, he heard it. It was soft, but unmistakable. Audrey gasped. Not the cooing and the purring that she used to such good effect, but still sounded practiced. No, this was a genuine gasp of pleasure. Matthew was stunned yet again: He was giving her pleasure, and, given her rich description, it didn't take a genius to guess what Audrey was doing to make it so. "Screw the money," Matthew thought, "cumming together with Audrey would be worth a whole paycheck. I haven't had that pleasure since Sarah left."

Audrey's narrative ended with an invitation. Matthew took it up. "As you pull me closer into our kiss as my tongue brushes yours, I press my advantage thrusting my tongue deep into your mouth, entwining our tongues in a lovers' embrace." That image alone caused Matthew, himself, to emit a small gasp before continuing, "I squeeze your rock-hard nipple through your blouse and your bra just briefly. It's not enough; I need your skin on mine. Quickly, I unbutton your blouse, pulling it free from your jeans. I thrust my arm around your back under your blouse to reach up and unsnap your bra, pushing it up toward your shoulders, exposing your bare, beautiful breast."

Matthew paused, trying to control is own breath enough to continue. Images of Jen with those black plastic frames, the pony tail, and that erotic-to-him, bookish look flooded his mind. Hoping that his pause hadn't cooled Audrey, he plunged on, "My warm hand grabs your breast firmly, kneading it while I roll your hard nipple between my fingers as I continue to kiss you passionately. I let my weight push us over on the couch, me on top, kicking off my shoes as we roll over."

Matthew can no longer control his own gasps, "Audrey, I want you. I want all of you. Touch me; touch me anywhere you want."

Of course, though, Audrey could not really touch him. As his sweat now rolled down over his nearly naked body, Matthew positioned his hand, waiting to see where Audrey would send it.

 

[sharingfantasies]

Jen was caught up in her arousal, this JD had a low, deep voice that had her shivering just from the sound. She couldn't remember the last time she had gotten caught up in someone's words. She shifted the phone and undid her blouse, wanting to feel “his” hand on her skin.

“I slide my hands around your neck, pulling you down further onto me.” her voice husky with growing pleasure. “Our kiss deepens as our tongues meet and I begin to lightly suck on your tongue, my fingers caressing your skin as my right hand slides down along your neck. The fingers of my other hand tangle up in your hair, tugging you closer.”

As Jen spoke her hand slid over her breast, sliding under her bra, stroking and tugging her nipple. She could feel her body clenching down deep inside, the moisture leaking into her panties.

“My hand slides down over your chest slowly caressing, feeling your heart pounding. Can you feel that hand gliding over your skin?” she crooned softly.

 

[Gr8chtr]

Matthew could barely wait to hear Audrey's message. In addition to the sweat that continued to roll down his naked skin, he could feel his undershorts dampening with the precum that was lubricating his erect cock. Audrey's imagery pulling them deeper into a kiss and pulling them closer fueled both Matthew's erotic and romantic fantasies. Strangely, though, images of Sarah and this new woman, Jen, continued to mingle in his mind's eye.

My hand slides down over your chest slowly caressing, feeling your heart pounding. Can you feel that hand gliding over your skin?

Audrey's description of her hand movements nearly drove Matthew over the top. He could feel "her" hand, although it was his that was now sliding from his chest down toward his shorts. God, the impulse to stroke his cock was nearly irresistible. Indeed, he would have done so had it not been for Matthew's dedication to this detailed scenario that he and Audrey were mutually constructing. Audrey had only hinted at where her hand was going; she was teasing him. He had to honor that.

But, this was a two-way street, his turn, now, to direct her. "Your hand gliding down over my glistening skin sets me on fire for you. The intensity of my passion won't allow for more subtle foreplay. As you intensify our kissing and tug me closer to you, I dart my hand down to unfasten the button on the waistband of your jeans. Grabbing the zipper I slide it open, being sure to push down hard enough that you can feel my fingers as they press and run along your pubic bone. Once the fly of your jeans is completely open I quickly run my hand around to your...uh, your..uh...your ass and pull us over onto your right side so that you are free and able to wiggle rapidly out of your jeans."

Matthew somehow managed to speak his message without interruption, but as his message ended he couldn't entirely stifle several gasps of breath, so aroused he had become. As he awaited Audrey's response, though, a brief flicker of guilt crossed his mind. What the fuck would the soft-spoken, intellectual Jen think of him if she could possibly know what he was doing. "Jen would," Matthew mused, "be so abhorred that she would have no further interest in him, not even as a platonic attender at her book club."

 

[sharingfantasies]

Jen was lost in the sensations as her hand slid down her body. She shivered as she pressed down undoing her pants. A part of her mind was shocked that she was doing this, getting so involved in the caller. Her mind keep seeing Matthew and that confused her, and yet, she couldn't seem to stop the images or her hand from moving down further.

She couldn't remember ever being this aroused, not even when she was with the boy she had known in college. Her breathing was harsh and ragged as she wiggled out of her pants. Her panties were so wet, they stuck to her skin. Her fingers trembled as they hovered so close to where she needed them to be.

Trying to concentrate on her JD was proving to be difficult as her brain was bombarded with her need.

"Sliding my fingers over the head of your cock, feeling the moisture beading there, as I spread it down the shaft. I lean over you, put my tongue to the head, and taste you. mmmmm You taste so good." The words she had used with so many callers came naturally, almost rehearsed, and suddenly, she didn't want to be there on the phone. She wanted to be with Matthew, wanted his hands on her skin, wanted to hear his low voice in her ears. She resented this stranger making her aroused, she didn't like reacting to his touch, she didn't like that he reminded her of Matthew, and she didn't like that she felt uncertain about whether she would see Matthew again or not.

She gasped. Had she heard him say her name? No, that wasn't possible. There was no way he could know her name. It was just the confusion, the arousal, her body's need to come fighting with her brain's need to be done with this caller that kept bringing Matthew to mind.

"My mouth opens wide and takes you inside. I take all you deep into my mouth, sliding up and down." Jen kept her voice soft, soothing, willing her JD to hurry up and finish. Finish it for himself, finish it for her. She wanted her body to orgasm, she wanted him to get his money's worth, she wanted... she didn't know what she wanted.

 

[Gr8chtr]

Sliding my fingers over the head of your cock, ...I lean over you, put my tongue to the head, and taste you.

Laying nude on his bed, his body drenched in sweat, as he listened to Audrey's words Matthew was torn on what direction to take their fantasy when it was his turn to speak. If this were real life, if, for example, he and his former girlfriend, Sarah, were actually having sex, Matthew would likely have let her continue with the blowjob, stopping just before he came. That wouldn't take long and, more delightfully, it would become the appetizer for a longer, rougher session in the bedroom.

But, this wasn't real life, as real as it seemed at the moment. He was paying "Audrey" - or whatever the hell her name really was - 10 bucks a minute for this chat. Shit, he could take Jen out for a nice dinner for less than chatting with Audrey had already cost him. Time to end this play-acting and move on with whatever was left of his real-life evening. These logical thoughts notwithstanding, the real reasons that he wanted wind this up, Matthew realized, were that he wanted to cum right now, and cum hard...and, he wanted this to be over so that he could be free to check his e-mail to see if Jen had sent him any message that might include the invitation to meet again.

My mouth opens wide and takes you inside. I take all you deep into my mouth, sliding up and down.

Audrey's words were all Matthew needed to wrap his hand around his now-slippery cock and begin to stroke. Gasping for breath, he took his turn on the phone. Matthew's urgent lust was now so great, he forgot any inhibition that he had had about using explicit language.

"As you slide your mouth up my cock, I grab your hair and pull you firmly up so that we are face-to-face. I gasp into your ear..." - and Matthew was, in fact, gasping - 'that feels so good, but I want more. I want to fuck you right now.' I throw off my pants that you have loosened and push you back down on the couch, me on top. Your right leg slides off the edge of the cushion onto the floor. I guide your left leg around my ass, spreading you open. The slippery head of my erect cock pushes against the lips of your soaking wet pussy. I use my hips to slowly push my cock all the way into you, until I can't go any further. Summoning what little breath I have..." and, here again, Mathew genuinely gasped, "I look you straight in the eye and say, 'You're the guest in my apartment, the first move in our fucking is yours.'"

Matthew let all of his breath out at once, straining to not cum just yet. His hand tightened around his cock. Damn, he hoped Audrey would choose a hard, fast rhythm, because, God knows, he was ready.

 

[sharingfantasies]

Jen gave her head a shake, she had become so wrapped up in her own arousal she had forgotten where and what she was doing.

"Oh, baby, I need you inside me, deep inside," she crooned in her best phone sex voice. "I want to feel you stroking hard and deep, cum inside me, baby, do me good."

She could hear the caller's voice get rough, his breathing harsher. She pictured him stroking himself, pretending his cock was inside her.

Jen slid her fingers through the moisture and spread it around. Circling, caressing and dipping into her own body, she felt the muscles begin to spasm. As her orgasm rippled through her, she struggled to find words for her caller.

"Oh, baby, harder, deeper. Give it to me."