"Oh Timothy, Timothy, you sent me insane, Just the way you call me by that name," I whispered over the mobile, hoping - just hoping he was going to make his usual Sunday visit and fuck me good.
"Well if the name fits, use it!" Timothy replied with that certain tone of voice which he knew would turn me on.
I loved him very much and wanted him to love with me, but he was a reporter doing stuff all over the world so I had to make do for now with the usual spasmodic visits.
"No problems, Fuckass, I will be around with cock leading at 10 on Sunday, right?"
There he was, using that special name again, it wasn't at all as crude as is seems when coming through his lips, that tone of voice again, soft and whispery and full of connotations like he couldn't wait to be with me.
I stood there wanking as we chatted and I imagined, hearing his voice, he was inside me - or I was kneeling there before him, sucking his gorgeous throbbing cock in the sweetest way, feeling the dregs of his sweet juices cum and pour into my mouth, the soothing wondrous feeling of all that, the thrill and the joy of making him cum like that into my mouth and then again over my face as I felt the heat of his spurt drench me, licking the residue and drawing it into my mouth to enjoy the utter sensual sea salt taste of cock and p-hole, teasing and teasing, foreskin stretched tightly back as I tantalised with the tip of my tongue waiting for another spurt which was always as strong as before, the sounds of his satisfaction as the white fluid gushed out.