Chapter One of the Isabella Chronicles.
I first met Isabella on a dodgy phone chat line. I had recently returned from a year travelling overseas and while I was happy enough to be single, I was bored and after some uncomplicated but raunchy female conversation.
Isabella had the sexiest voice I had ever heard, bar none. It was sensuous, sweet and innocent, which of course only heightened my arousal when the words that came from her sweet mouth were so filthy, so dirty, so fabulously horny. Using my personal theory on the laws of inverse probability, I surmised that this meant she was ugly as sin and probably the size of a barn door, but as I didn't intend to ever meet her it really didn't matter.
The first time we spoke, she wanted to listen to me masturbate. While I beat my dick furiously until I spurted in record time, she alternated between uttering filthy and arousing comments down the phone line and listening to me wank while she played with herself.
Before long we had exchanged numbers and she was calling me every night to put me to sleep with that sexy voice and that kinky mind.
I was in seventh heaven.
I have always had a good imagination and hers was just as good. She had a great libido for a woman, needing some form of sexual release on a daily basis. For my part, I loved the idea of daily sessions where I could envisage her as a glamorous babe on the other end of the line while she told me to do dirty depraved things to her and to myself. Now I had a phone girlfriend, with no hassles and no complications.
Even our personal lives suited our phone fun perfectly. I had no interest in getting into a physical relationship at this stage, preferring to focus on whether or not I was going to return to travelling overseas by next year or return to my former corporate life.
For her part, Isabella was married, at least technically. She and her husband Horace had been going through a trial separation, living in separate bedrooms while sharing the same house. He wanted them to get back together, she was not so sure. The conditions were perfect for what we had, and what we had was great!
One night she called me after midnight as I lay almost asleep on my bed.
"Hey," she whispered, "you still awake?"
"Uh huh," I said sleepily.
"Good, I'm so horny, I really need some sex" she whispered quietly.
"Why are you whispering?" I mumbled, slowly coming awake.
"Well, Horace is getting some work done on the house and my bedroom's got plaster and paint tubs all over the floor, so tonight I'm sleeping in his bed," she replied in a tiny whisper.
"Where's Horace?" I asked, a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach telling me I already knew the answer.
"Asleep beside me!" she whispered, tiny giggles carrying across the line.
"Don't worry" she added furtively.
"He's out like a light!"
"What? You can't have phone sex with me while he's lying right next to you! You'll get caught!" I said incredulously.
"Guess what I'm doing right now?" she said, ignoring my concerns.
"What?"
"I'm sitting up against the headboard with my legs spread wide and I'm playing with my clit" she breathed.
"My knee is almost in his face" she added with another whisper.
"You little slurry!" I exclaimed, surprised and yet excited at the same time.
"My pussy is soooo wet, I'm so turned on by this!" she whispered to me, ignoring my comment again.
"Wanna hear me finger myself?" Her voice was taking on a slight but familiar tremble.
"What are you wearing?" I asked, my hand beginning to stroke my slowly hardening cock. I could feel myself becoming aroused, despite my concern at her situation, or perhaps because of it.
"I have a t-shirt on and g's" she responded.
"My t-shirt is up above my waist now and I've pushed my g-string out of the way so I can play with myself!" I could hear her breathing becoming rapid and irregular and her voice was trembling.
"I'm gonna cum soon, I'm so horny. Shit! Hold on a sec!!"
I heard a clunk as the phone was put down on a hard surface somewhere nearby.
