This man had been driving me absolutely insane for weeks now. We met through the Literotica site, exchanged Emails, salacious, erotic, heart-pounding, legs fainting Emails. I started out reading them at my desk, rolling my clit over my vibrator as I trapped it between my throbbing pussy and the chair, cumming wildly, uncontrollably, gasping. Almost falling out of my chair as I dreamed about him. Touching me.
I thought I'd die from the intensity of my orgasms.
But I needed more. I wanted to hear his voice. I already knew I'd be safe with him. I was absolutely sure of it. Secure in his arms, even if he was only holding me over the phone. So I took a deep breath and sent him my home number.
He called. I immediately felt comfortable with him. Comfortable and aroused. Very very aroused. We talked about sex, but not slobbering "fuck me now, baby" sex, it was more, well, I don't even know what word to use, in a strange way it was even more intense. We became casual friends almost instantly. Tossing sexy Emails back and forth like ping pong balls. Flirting with each other mercilessly. He'd call up out of the blue and ask me to help him with a story he was writing. He'd describe various sexual positions to me. Ask me how I thought each one would feel with him. I'd close my eyes, trying to help him, trying furiously to imagine what each one felt like. Exactly what it felt like.
That's the problem.
I could!
Way too easily. Way way too easily. For instance, just yesterday I had the day off and we were chatting. Laughing. Trying to figure out what would feel better for a woman, laying on top of a guy with my back against his stomach and just pressing my pussy down against the shaft of his erection or actually having him inside of me. Barely inside me while he was massaging my clit with his fingers from beneath me. We were discussing this because of a wildly erotic story he was writing about a woman who wanders into a forest and gets poison oak all over her hands and then can't use them and gets rescued by this guy. Well, anyway, a whole lot of really sensual stuff happens between them, for instance, he gives her a shower since she can't use her own hands and eventually tucks her into bed.
Alone. She can't get to sleep because she's aroused so she decides she wants to masturbate and, of course, without any hands she can't do it so he crawls under her, laying on his back while she's laying on him with her back against his chest. Then he reaches around her and starts to, ohmygod, this is getting me hot just thinking about it, and anyway he's going to use his hands as her hands. You get the picture. Wow. I've gotta go open a window. Suddenly it's warm in here. So, okay, he calls me up to discuss the position the man and the woman are in and what might develop and as I kept talking to him about this, trying to stay clinical (after all I'm a nurse) I could feel the heat building up on the back of my neck. And I was getting really really wet. He didn't know it but I'd been using my vibrator as a reality crutch while we were talking. Holding it against my pussy, outside my panties, trying to simulate the touch, the precise angle of his hard swollen cock against me in each different position that we were talking about. The vibrator wasn't even turned on but the conversation was getting me so aroused that, after about thirty minutes, when I suddenly realized it was going to end, I just blurted out something to him about how excited I was. I don't even remember what I said I was so breathless. I just knew I didn't want him to hang up.
Well, it worked.
I could feel him smiling at me through the phone. I think he already knew I was aroused. But he had an incredible way of making me feel comfortable sexually. It didn't even seem odd to me that he was suddenly telling me to take off my panties and lay down on the bed on my back with my legs spread. I knew what he was going to do and he knew what he was going to do. He was going to spend some more time talking to me and arouse and excite me so much that I'd have an overwhelmingly intense orgasm. It was just that simple.
And I knew it would happen, too, because the first time we had phone sex he got me so aroused that I actually had two orgasms. But I'll tell you about that some other time. Especially since multiple orgasms are rare for me, even with real flesh and blood lovers.
Anyway, for the next twenty minutes he talked. A low, deep, sensual voice. Telling me what he was doing to me and what he was going to do to me, reminding me that I was the heroine in his story and that he really was touching me when he was writing it. Telling me how aroused he was getting just thinking about me touching myself and listening to my soft, low moans. Which, of course, just got me thinking about getting him more aroused and thinking about that got me more aroused and, well, you can see where that's going. Anyway, he was talking to me in this soothing, quiet but intensely masculine voice. He was telling me what to do with my fingers, what to do with my vibrator as I touched myself. Slowly, erotically. Exactly how hard to touch myself, exactly where. I just closed my eyes and suddenly he was there with me in the room and I was laying on top of him, on my back, with his cock between my legs, thrusting my pelvis up and down gently. I could actually feel my clit rubbing against that hard little ridge on the top of his erection.
Suddenly I was doing everything to myself that we'd just been talking about a few minutes before. One minute passed, two minutes, five minutes, ten minutes. By then I was moaning almost continually. And, by the time my vibrator was inside me, by the time he was inside me, I'd lost control. I could feel it coming. Like a freight train thundering down the tracks toward me. The muscles in my legs and stomach were contracting and relaxing spasmodically and I couldn't breathe. All I could do was gasp and moan. And beg. Beg my body to cooperate.
It did.
My orgasm hit like a tidal wave. Surrounding me, washing over me, consuming me. It was so intense, so overwhelming that I couldn't talk. But he already knew that. He was in control of my body anyway, so why wouldn't he know that.
Five minutes later I finally managed to whisper, "oh, that felt so good, so good...goodnight, Mark".
Then I hung up the phone.
But not until he had convinced me that I was laying on top of him, his erection deep inside me, while he dragged the tips of his fingers over my back, my shoulders, my thighs, telling me how beautiful I was, how sensual, how arousing.
Literally touching me to sleep with his voice.
That was Thursday. And now it was Friday. Friday morning, in fact.. Only a day later. Less than a day later. My clit was still tingling from yesterday and I already wanted to feel him inside me so badly again that I broke down and sent him a quick Email from one of the computers at the hospital. Casually asking him if he thought it might be fun to tell me a bedtime story tonight. Not really expecting a reply. Hoping he didn't think I was needy. Or a pest. After all, I knew he was busy.
I almost collapsed when I got his short Email back telling me he would call me around 10:30pm at home. But there were a few caveats. He would only call after I had taken a long hot bath, jumped into bed completely naked and, get this, actually promised I wouldn't touch myself or masturbate until he was on the phone with me.
From right now until then.