The alarm clock beside the bed read 11:57. Three minutes. He had time to check one last time, just to make sure, just to try to calm the anticipation racing through his body. His cock was already hard, throbbing beneath the sheet to the heavy beat of his heart.
He looked to his right. His wife was turned away from him, her breathing soft in the steady rhythm of sleep. Check.
His phone was in silent mode, the earphone cable stretching up to his head. Hands-free; she said it must be hands-free. It lay by his side, its cold plastic occasionally touching his buttock. Check.
He was naked. Check.
He turned and carefully switched off the bedside light, his fingers desperate not to make a noise. Apart from the dim light of the moon, he was in darkness. Check.
His arms lay stiffly at his sides, desperately resisting the urge hold his cock, to fold around the shaft, to milk its firmness. He rested his left hand on the phone, his finger poised, ready. Check.
He waited.
Surely three minutes had passed? She had said midnight. She had said that she wanted this as much as he did; that emails were not enough anymore; that they should try something new, something more dangerous. It had been her idea for him to be in his own bed, next to his wife. She had said that it would turn her on so much. But now, what if --
The phone vibrated against his thigh.
His whole body tensed, and he had to fight his shaking muscles for control. He swallowed. His finger shook. He pressed the answer button.
Hello, James. I hope that you are naked. I hope that you are in darkness. I hope that your wife is asleep next to you. If all these things are true, tap your phone, just once.
Her voice! He suddenly realised that it was the first time he had heard it. It was everything that he had dreamed: slow, sensual, a purr, like liquid sex; and lying just behind it, a hint of anxiety, anticipation. What had she said? Christ! Oh yes, tap the phone. His body trembled now, and he had to force his finger to respond as he wanted. He tapped his phone, just once.
That is wonderful, James. Let me tell you where I am. I am lying on my bed. I have left my light on. I want you to know that if you were here with me, you would be able to see everything. I am wearing a red, silk nightdress.
I am looking down at my body, at the rise and fall of my breasts, at my nipples pushing up against the silk, at the flat of my stomach and the tiny dip of my navel, at the smooth mound at the top of my thighs.
Can you see, James? My legs are together, but the silk dips down between them, pointing upwards, like an arrow.
Are you touching your cock, James? If you are, tap the phone, just once.
He was as if hypnotized, so wrapped in the vision of her body, that he had almost forgotten that his body was there too. Like an inattentive school boy caught out, he took his cock in his hand, felt the wetness of the pre-cum dripping from its tip. Smooth, like olive oil, like the velvet of her voice. He tapped his phone, just once.
That's good, baby, but you're not to cum, not until I do. I'm going put my finger in my mouth, as if it was your cock. I'm going to suck it, twirl my tongue around its head. Can you feel me fuck my mouth with your cock?
There was a moment's silence, and then liquid sounds, the soft squishing sound of wetness. Using his thumb, he gathered his pre-cum and rubbed it slowly over the soft stretched skin of his cockhead, feeling as if it were her tongue caressing him, teasing him.
And suddenly he realised how close he was. He felt the tightening in his balls and that deep building sensation which he longed to give in to. It would only take a moment; the tight grip of his shaft, the urgent pumping of his hand up and down across sensitive skin of his hood; and then the squirting release of orgasm.
He stopped, squeezed the base of his penis hard, felt the urgency subside.
You came in my mouth, baby. I can taste you, salty, bitter, unique. I am spreading your cum on my lips, around my mouth. I want it to dry there, to smell you in the morning, to taste you when I lick my lips.
