Our Lusty Affair

Chapter 1" We Make Do With Phone Sex.

We are lovers. Flat out flirtatious, and tickled by public "display." More than once you've taken my dare and stood under the sprinkler for the wet T-shirt contest; strutting your great looking tits and juicy pink nipples with the other contestants (much admired by me and everyone else) with that provocative, "Oh me, oh my," glint in your eye. One of your favorite prick- tease gags is to whisper in my ear halfway through a movie that you've left your undies home, then let me smell the "petit jus" honey all but dripping from your finger. Another is flashing truckers and bus drivers on the Interstate. And more than once you've greeted me at the door gloriously naked and ready for come-what-may; skip the date, skip the dinner, skip the movie; let's get down and dirty right here and now.

Our only rule is that you'll do anything I want, but I have to do whatever you ask. Quick and clean; heavy date-night, no-frills innocent. Rough and ready; like drunken cowpokes on a poontang bender. Hot and heavy; like horny honeymooners. Loud and sloppy; like that famous beast with two backs. Doctor and Nurse Bettie Page; "Oh, Bet-tee, I'm having a big problem here." Jacuzzi fucks; entertaining all the neighbors. Birthday suit hide & seek. Film-buff love-scene acting-out, "And then...." The squire, the milkmaid wench, and the big, comfy chair. Fun with food and toys, scarves and blindfolds, double dares and double-dog dares, kiss-the-cook and kiss- the-cookies, "Too Drunk To Fuck" and blowjob wake-up calls (surprise!), strip poker and lusty board games, and other such naughty, tasty goings-on.

I have been traveling, ten cities in two weeks. You've been driving yourself crazy at work. We talk every night, teasing each other with sexy, dirty chatter.

The night before I hit town, I call as usual, and you answer, as usual.

I ask, "What are you wearing?"

You say, "Well, I took a good and long, bubbly soak, and got prettied-up for your call. And to answer your question, I'm wearing that sheer, shortie little Egyptian linen robe you gave me. You know, the one with the kitty cat hieroglyphs across my 'titties' and comes just to here. He-he! Then there's the really slutty, garish black stockings tied at the thigh with red satin ribbons. That, and a great big smile! How are you, you lovely man?"

I say, "I'm fine, just god awful horny. And where are you?"

You say, "I'm sprawled on the bed with all my pillows, you know the ones, and playing with Duffy the cat. Where else would I be when you call? Can you hear the purring?"

You spread your legs and slip the mouthpiece of the phone through the fluffy rough of bushy hair.

Can I hear the purr? Ah, me. Indeed, I can, darling lass.

I lean back against all the pillows on my hotel bed, and say, "I'm stretched on the bed in my shorts, here at the Regency, sipping my done-for-the-day Glenfiddich, and I've got an incorrigible hard-on. Little help here. I haven't been this stiff since I left town."

You say, "All in good time, dear heart. Jogging shorts or the sweats?"

I say, "As a matter of fact, I just got back from the workout room, and I'm still wearing my sweat shorts. And what a horny sweat I'm in, thinking of you, just as you are right now. Thinking about finally seeing you tomorrow. I was so eager to talk with you, I haven't taken my shower."

You say, "Ah, the musky smell of a horny lover...! What would we be doing if we were together right now?"

I give my erection a couple strokes and look to the easy chair by the lamp, imagining you sitting there, wearing those stockings and ribbons, spread- eagled, your legs wide open, shaking your fragrant juggly tits for me, and brushing between your legs with the flat of your hands and fingers, teasing, "Pussy need a kiss, please? Please, pet my pussy! I've been especially, very good. Love my titties, please? Please, love my titties."

The words hiss with your whispery breath, and I stroke my cock a time or two at the thought. There's that smoky, lusty little girl look in your eyes, and you stroke between your legs to your belly button; pouty, that image as clean as a dream.

But no, I've got a better idea.

I say, "Okay, here it is. If we were together right now, I'd be sitting on the patio, enjoying the panorama of city lights yonder; enjoying, too, the sight of you in the vanity mirror brushing your hair with long sweeps of the comb. You are the Goddess of Great Big Hair, the Goddess of Beautiful Tits; the Goddess of Perfect Pussy. You're wearing that lippy little black bra and those very thigh-high stockings, big bright red ribbons and all. The bows hang between your thighs, brushing through all those fluffy little curlies and your very kissable, extremely fuckable cunt. There isn't anything more sexy than a near naked woman sitting in front of a mirror, calmly combing her hair."

You sit up in bed at the other end of the call, squeezing your knees together for that warm buzzy feeling, and say, "Now, that's nice and steamy, you horny rascal. And then?"

I say, "You're brushing your hair, arching your back, flashing beaver and jugging your titties for me in the mirror, grinning big. Your nipples are puckered-up and stiff as thimbles. You're singing 'I Want to Smoke Your Pole' to the tune of 'Somebody Stole My Gal.' You look at me in the mirror and ask in your sweetest, please, please come-fuck-me voice if I would be a 'love' and help you."

You say, "And then?"

In background I hear the humming of your vibrator, nicknamed Wonderful Willie; the one with the rainbow assortment of Happy Tips. I wonder which tip you're using.

I say, "Then I'm standing right behind you with my robe open, leaning this hard-on I have in my hand just now against your back and looking down at you in the mirror. Dark, luminescent stockings; bright red ribbons and large bows; fulsome, roundy breasts and stiff, pink nipples; wonderful, big smile; a really horny fuck-me, fuck-me shine in your eyes; your beautiful hair. I reach over your shoulder and brush my hands down your throat, over your chest and into your voluptuous cleavage. I feel the soft, tasty warmth of your breasts, and watch your nipples pucker and stiffen more, when I pull and rub them with my fingers. You moan, "Who! Ho-oh! Hmm. Ah, ah. Ho!" Your voice all breath. You take hold of my hands, and I cup your breasts, lifting them, twiddling your nipples with my thumbs. Your whole body shivers with little giggles as you cum (jogging your breasts in my hands; teasing; rolling your eyes, and laughing real sly with a first-of-the- day, roller-coaster orgasm). This first shuddering orgasm is a surprise to us both. You sigh and sigh and sigh, enjoying the first of the evening's warm wiggles rising from your pussy. I get a serious kick from seeing you cum when I love-up your breasts; ah, me."

Over the phone you fetch a sigh, saying, "Oh, you! Hoo!" More humming and buzzing from Wonderful Willie.

You're cumming over the phone, and my cock twitches at the sound, and the imagined sight of you all but melting with pleasure into the array of pillows on the bed.

You take a good long, breathy pause, and say, "That was just fine! I'm one up on you, lover. It's the sound of your voice, you know. You make me creamy between the thighs every time we talk."

I say, "Then you hand me the comb."

You say, "There's more?"

I say, "Oh, we've got all night, darling lass. I kiss your neck and ears, licking, and comb your hair while you raise your arms gracefully up, lifting your breasts to me, the mirror, every blessed thing. You roll your head as I comb, humming with deep, warm satisfaction, and squeeze, squeeze your thighs together. Your first-of-the-day in spades. Watching, listening to you cum provokes a stiffer hard-on, and I brush my cock and balls back and forth, humping and swaying. I continue to comb your hair, because you always say you love me when I do that. You look luscious sitting in front of the triptych mirror with that calm Cheshire look in your eye, sweating for a proper fuck. I am sweating for a fuck, but not just yet, darling lass. No, not just yet. I'll do anything your ask, but first you have to do what I want. Remember? And you, Cat?"

Your voice is whispery warm with that low and naughty, creamy glow.

You say, "I have been thinking of you all day. I know you love to watch me get ready for bed, getting ready for the luscious fucking I so richly deserve. The really humpy and loud, squeally ones. I sit in front of the mirror, hot from the shower, and adjust the panels so I can watch you. First, the bra hooked in back. That skimpy, black number that doesn't cover my nipples. Then those lustrous black nylons. First one long leg, then the other. You love to watch this. See?"

I do love to watch (what would I give to be standing behind you right this minute). And in my head I hear the sweep, sweep, sweep of sweet nylon up your long legs and beautiful thighs. First one, then the other. You polish off this part of the performance by wiggling your toes (leg in the air), and smoothing out the wrinkles, singing, "I wish I had an Oscar Meyer wiener." It makes my balls roar.

You say, "Then come the touches of make-up, but nothing is more important than my special, smeary rouge-red lipstick. You will look so handsome in a minute with my lipstick slathered all over your cock."

I could not agree with you more. I lie on the hotel bed, listening to the smoke in your voice and my cock twitching at the very thought of your lipstick there.

You say, "Then comes the perfume daubed between my legs, the dimples of my ass and just there between the cheeks, each nipple and between my breasts, and behind my ears. For jewelry, I have a golden waist chain, some noisy bracelets, and those 'slave girl' anklets, the ones with the little belly-dancer bells you like to hear."

Indeed, I do. And the image of that aroma of perfume rising from your pussy, your lovely breasts, makes me stoke harder. Whacka-whacka- whacka.

You say, "I watch the both of your hands on my titties and feel that silky, hot hard-on slipping back and forth across the middle of my back. That warm, fuzzy-wuzzy buzz radiates up from my pussy, my juicy-stiff little clitoris, to my yummy nipples; you're always telling me I've got yummy tits. And I cum; I can't help it. I see my neck flush to the ears, feel drunk with pleasure. I feel terrific--just plain intoxicated and bouncy--but I'm still way too horny."

Me, too. And I keep stroking off.

You say, "I want you to grab me by the hair, lover, walk me over to the bed, and toss me on my back. I'll spread my legs, heels on the floor, then take your good, stiff dick by the root--the very hairs, lover--and rub the hot knob through my pussy to get you nicely juiced up. Then I sit up, shaking my hair back; that soft whisking sound. One hand cupping your balls and one hand wrapped around your cock. I scoot forward and lay a sloppy, wet kissy-kiss on the whole of your cockhead. You cock is just as tasty as tasty can ever be, lover. Tongue, tongue, the flat of my hot, wet tongue up and down that teeny groove of those teeny lips. Tongue, tongue, the flat of my tongue wrapped across the smooth nut of your cock."

And I'm pounding my pud like crazy. Whacka-whacka-whacka!

You say, "Then I take your cock--my cock--in both hands, and slip it through my puckery lips. Oh, goodness and mercy, a hot little suck with pull-enty of tongue. Your cock in my mouth is just so (so, so!) tasty, and every time I slip my tongue over the hot, hard head of it--sloppy, sloppy, kissy-kiss-- every time I stroke your balls in my hot little hand--you shudder. I can see the goose-flesh on your arms. I rest my hands on your belly, pinching the hairs of your bush. I bob my head up and down; tasty, tasty; what can I say! I shake my head this way and that, brushing my hair across your thighs. Little love bits; white teeth and big smile from under my hair. I kiss your dick up one side and down the other, all over the bright shining head with more sloppy kisses; there's the lipstick! I look up at you, into your ice blue eyes. You're smiling, and I grin, brushing my hair across your naked thighs--who! My lips and tongue still loving your cock. I am hot and gooey- damp between my thighs. Just now, this minute, I am the sluttiest slut, but this is too delicious! I love this moment, and the power I have over your cock. I know that I can get you stiff and ready to fuck any time I want."

Lying across the bed in that hotel all these many, many miles away, I have to admit that this is true.

You say, "It's time for fucking! So I slip your cock out of my mouth with a sweet, puckery pop! I look up at your through my hair, flutter my eyes, and smile so fucking naughty, and slowly wink. Sloppy red lipstick smeared all over the juicy, velvety knob. Your cock is hot and wet and hard, shiny red. 'Let's fuck,' I say, and push back on the bed, among the pillows, inviting you between my legs with a long, slow crook of my finger. 'You have made me so horny and lewd, you rascal,' I say. 'Come fuck me.' And I flash my legs open and closed, petting my ruff curlies and steamy warm pussy, spreading open for you with my sluttiest hot show and tell. 'Please, lover, come fuck me!'

I can hardly wait, whacka-whacka-whacka. I have a towel from the bathroom just there on the bed, and the phone to my ear, heartily stroking myself off. Ah, me.

You say, "You climb on the bed and sit on your heels between my knees. I shinny down over your lap and swing my legs around your waist and hook my ankles. The anklet bells jingle and jangle. My itchy hot pussy, your hard cock just there. I love , I just love this part! I pull plenty of pillows under my head. Your cock looks delicious, stiff as iron and glistening hot. Your hands caressing my nylons and thighs give my pussy a nice, sweet tickle; it tickles! But, lover mine, fucking is the best tickle of all. So, I wiggle my pussy in your lap, he-he, take hold of your good hard cock in both hands, and slowly, slowly, dream-speed so-motion, slip the very tip of your dick in my pussy. Oh, my, this is delicious! And slowly, slowly, he-he, ever so slowly pull myself to your cock. A good long time it takes for me to get to the thickest, loveliest tickle of all. You're in to the root and hairs; my my, my, this is going to be a wonderful, juicy fucking! The wet of my pussy soaks all your crotch. I love to watch your cock stroke in and out of my juiced-up pussy. The sloppy sound of our bodies slapping together is so sexy. You love that foxy, fresh-fucked tickly grin on my face as I watch you fucking me. Wink, wink. You feel that luscious, slippery hot pussy on your dick?"

Do I ever. I love your big, giddy smile as I am fucking you. I love the way you lick your lips and blow me big noisy kisses. I love the way your shining hair is arrayed among the pillows around your head, like a halo. I love the sleek, luminescent shush-sound your stockings make as you rub you legs against my body; it's like swimming. I love the way you reach down between your legs as we're fucking and stroke my cock while I'm stroking your pussy. I love the way you diddle your clitoris. I love the way your squeeze the roly-poly lips of you pussy against me. I love how you squirm and wiggle like an eel, shoving and pushing with your lusty thighs. I love to see your tits jug and jiggle; the nipples stiff and rosy. I love how you clutch me between your legs, and pound my back with your heels, stroking my belly and bush hair with the flats of your hot little hands.

You say, "We fuck up a storm, your cock sliding in and out so slippery stiff and gooey hot. The bed, the pillows are bouncing, bouncing, bouncing. Now and again you take a pause, take your cock in hand (slick as a pickle), and slide that hot meaty shaft up and down through the lips of my pussy, tickling my clitoris ever so naughty and nice. Oh, lover! You make me feel so luscious and tasty warm, but we're fucking just now, remember! So, fuck me! I take matters into my own hands, shoo you hand away, and slip your dick in my cunt again; so juicy and hard, and I shiver and laugh all over again. And you, my wonderful lover, fuck me proper. Well set, you tickle me just 'there,' that very best little spot just inside. And right then and there I cum again. I hug you to me, deep, oh so hot and deep (as tight and hot as tight can be!), by clamping my squeaky nylon legs around your middle and hook my ankles around your back. Good golly, Miss Molly, I'm cumming and cumming. I cannot thank you enough. You fuck me stupid. I cum again, I simply cannot help it. I whoop a cheer, squeezing you between my legs, and twisting and wiggling my pussy as hard against you as we can manage. You rough my titties, rolling them, feeling me up, pulling and twisting the nipples you so lushly, dearly love to kiss and suck. You tell me how horny our fucking makes you; how slutty-sexy I look as I'm squirming and shouting. He-he. That's lovely fucking, dear one! Then I squeezing and humping, too, your cock with my hot little pussy; telling you, 'Cum to me! Cum to me!' And you cum like gang-busters!"

And I certainly do. Right then and there, clamping the towel over my cock as I cum. After a long moment of phone-quiet, I am deeply refreshed.

I say, "Many, many thanks for that. I can't wait to see you tomorrow."

You say, "And many thanks to you, dear heart. Should I pick you up at the airport?"

I say, "You bet your sweet, sweet ass."

We wind it up. You remind me there is a FedEx package. I tell you it is a surprise, and to bring it along. I will be on the mid-afternoon flight. You will meet me in the baggage area, dressed in the raspberry come-fuck-me summer dress, the Lord & Taylor hat, and your favorite sandals. I will be the gent in the salt and pepper beard all but limping from the bulge in his trousers, and the horny look in his eye.

We wish each other a good night, turn in, and sleep the sleep of the innocent and the righteous; wet-dreaming. Ah me, darling lass.