I am having fun with this new series. Is it realistic? Who knows? It is all about fantasy (with a few dashes of reality). Once again, thank you for the comments and feedback. You guys have really motivated me to write. A special thank you goes out to MyKittyStar, who took the time to edit my work. Her attention to detail (and commas) has really improved the story. She has also made this whole process so much more fun. Feel free to send me your thoughts. I will respond. I'd love to hear where you think this should go next. I am not sure myself. Don't forget to vote. Enjoy
"Take out your wiener."
Those weren't the words I expected to hear when I picked up the phone.
"Really? My wiener?" I asked. "Are we in fifth grade?"
"Don't question me. That's what I said, bitch!" she flung. Her voice was stinging and harsh, but with a softer underlying hint of mischief. "And start stroking."
It had been another lazy Sunday afternoon.
This time though, I was spending it at home reading a book and sipping on a coke.
That was until the phone rang....
I was surprised. It had been exactly one week since I had last seen Angel, my stripper fantasy. I hadn't been sure if our frenzied episode in the parking lot had been a one-off fuck, or the beginning of something much juicier. I had tried calling (she had given me her cell number before we parted ways at Barnes and Noble), but had only gotten an anonymous voice mail account. I had just about written Angel off when she rang.
And that is when she ordered me to start stroking my "wiener."
So there I was sitting on my couch; pants around my ankles, panting and grunting with my wiener in hand and rubbing away to a frantic rhythm. I was hard - rock hard and listening carefully as Angel moaned dirty talk into my ear.
"Are you stroking it?" she asked.
"Yes." I sounded pathetic, like a kid begging for a candy bar in a grocery check-out line.
"Good. Get it good and hard. I want it like a rock. But don't cum. I just want you to listen. Understood?" Angel asked. He voice was deliciously soft and feminine, yet was also as unyielding as steel.
I gave my cock a couple of tugs. "Understood," I replied.
"I am going to play with myself too," Angel said matter-of-factly. I wasn't sure if she wanted my approval or was just being a tease. My bet was on tease.
"That sounds good to me."
Angel's voice became low. I had to strain to hear. I pressed the phone close to my ear so I wouldn't miss a single naughty syllable. "I love it when your wiener is hard," she began. "For some reason all of us girls always called them wieners when we were working at the Slipper. I am not sure why. In the club, it seemed fitting. Wieners were toys, playthings. Since they were always covered, they were never dangerous. Unlike cocks. Cocks were dangerous. They made men do unspeakable things. Let a cock loose and there was no telling what would happen. Who knows? You might get nut in your eye. And that shit stings."
Angel giggled for a moment then the conversation went silent. I heard a strange sound almost as if someone was crinkling up cellophane. What? Ohhhhh.... I grinned as I realized that Angel was holding the phone next to her very wet pussy.
I grunted and stroked even faster.
"Like that?" Angel asked after putting the phone back up by her ear.
"Very much."
"Good. I'm wet."
"I can hear."
"I've been like this all week. Thought you might want to know," she said before continuing her story. "Anyway, I loved feeling your wiener rub against me in the club. I always looked forward to seeing you. I could feel the bulge in your pants. If I was careful I could line it up against my cunny-slit. And then I would rub.... I used to go home and think about it. I would remember what it felt like to ground against you during a lap dance and then I couldn't help myself. I would have to hike up my skirt or pull down my jeans. Then I would pull my panties aside and tease my clit. The fabric would be sticky and moist from thinking about how I grind my hips against you."
Angel gasped. I could hear the tenor of her voice begin to quicken. How fucking sexy! She continued to speak into the phone, "We were so close to having sex so many times. Quite a few nights I almost caved. I could have just reached down, unzipped your pants, and oops – there you would be! All I would have to do is squat and you would have been inside me! You were always so hard and I don't think you would have minded?"
A pause. "Would you?" Angel questioned, already knowing the answer.
"No," I breathed.
"Didn't think so," Angel purred. She gasped twice in quick succession. I could only imagine what she was doing. "And there would be all of those other naughty wieners too. They were everywhere trying to spear my innocent, little pussy. But they couldn't. I was just there to tease and to make them walk bow-legged back to their cars. When they got home, they would have to fuck their wives or their girlfriends. Or they would have to masturbate. No choice. I had filled their balls with cum and then they would need to unload. And when they did they would be thinking of me and my untouchable pussy. That thought is so yummy. So many wieners!"
"You slut," I moaned, cutting in. "You teased me so much."
"I know, bitch. How many hard-ons did I give to you?" I could hear the pride and satisfaction in Angel's voice. "So when I got home, after the club closed for the night, I couldn't stop thinking about all of those wieners; all of those wieners I made hard but couldn't suck or fuck. I would sit on my couch dripping wet. Juices would run down my leg. I had to find relief. Sometimes I used my toys. Other nights I played with my fingers. But no matter how tired I was, I would always make myself cum."
Angel's words were now coming in heavy gasps. She was on the precipice of an orgasm. Another moment and she would tumble over.
She took a long breath and paused. I could hear a struggle on the other end of the line. Then she asked, "How close are you to busting a nut?"
"You told me not to cum," I replied.
"I know, but I want to know how close you are."
