"Hello Mr. Roberts? You don't know me, but I know you. In fact, I know you very, very well."
The deep voice on the other end sent shivers through me. I looked at the telephone, wondering who it was, and what he wanted. I'm used to getting strange calls, but this one went beyond strange, right into scary.
"You own a black Camry. Jersey plates. You work at Mega Mutual Insurance Company. You live in Marlton, The Forest section, of course. Wife, two lovely kids. I wonder, do they know about your mistress?"
There was silence on the line and the words sank in. Who was this person? More Importantly, how did he know about Jennifer?
Yes, everything he said was true. But it wasn't possible. Was it? How could he know? What was going on? Who was the man with the deep, menacing voice on the other end of the line?
Jennifer is a cute woman of 34, married with two children of her own. We met via the internet, corresponding through e-mails and instant messages for months before actually speaking by telephone. An office manager of a local accounting firm, Jen lived in Southeastern Pennsylvania. I lived over the Delaware River in South Jersey.
We both had something missing from our marriages: Sex. Somehow we had stumbled upon each other in an online chat room, and after a year of teasing, flirting, electronic orgasms and phone sex, we threw caution to the wind and met.
Starbucks became the point of our rendezvous. There we talked for hours over scones and lattes. Family, work, friends, not a single topic was off limits in our whirlwind conversation. We hugged when we said goodbye, and Jennifer gave me a prim kiss on the cheek. Later that night we spent hours bantering on the internet.
It wasn't always erotic talk. We actually spent time exchanging details of all of our lives. Still, before heading off to bed with our spouses, we'd get naughty and reveal deep dark secrets, exchange fantasies, and, well, act like the horn dogs we deep inside were.
Finally, it happened. Jennifer took a sick day from work, and we met at the Echelon Mall for lunch. My extended lunches at work were already well established, she said she had a doctor's appointment.
We walked to her car, conveniently parked in the underused lower level of the garage. She asked if I wanted a ride to my car. We both understood the underlying question. If I said no, fine, but if I said yes....
I said yes, and soon enough, we hugging and passionately kissing. Our tongues danced together as we made out like eager teenagers. Our passions rose as we kissed and began feeling each other's bodies. I will never forget opening the buttons on her blouse, and reaching inside to feel a half-cup bra. Her breasts were firm, and I massaged her nipple through the thin material.
I remember looking around, seeing the coast was clear, and reaching my hand down to her thighs. Gently stroking them, I worked my hand up her creamy white thighs until I felt her moist boyshort panties.
"Oh yes Jon," she cooed. "Ummm, don't stop."
I knew we were barely out of sight of probing eyes in the parking lot, but if she didn't mind, I didn't either. I stroked her sexy black panties for a while before slipping a finger under the side and into her moist, beckoning pussy. Her hole was soaking wet, and I could tell from her purring that I was doing something right.
The stroking and purring continued as I kissed her sweet lips, and it wasn't long before she informed me, and anyone walking nearby for that matter, that she was going to cum. I continued the intense stroking while kissing and hugged her close as she rose to a numbing orgasm.
We held each other, and after a while Jennifer smiled and thanked me. It was amazing to hear her soft voice saying how much she enjoyed my "dancing fingers" as she called them.
Then she shocked me. "Now it's your turn," she shyly said, unbuttoning my pants and sliding down my zipper. She reached inside my boxers and pulled out my rock hard cock. As I looked around to ensure nobody was in the area Jennifer bent her head to my cock. She planted kisses on the sides and tip before licking up and down the hard muscle. She teased me then ovaled her mouth and wrapped her wet red lipstick coated lips around my cock.
It was an incredible feeling. My wife, in the day, was a good cocksucker. But Jennifer, well, was incredible. Sucking was an art to her, she savored the moment, nibbled and kissed, then began the act.
Her head slowly began bobbing up and down on my dick. First just an inch or two made its way into her warm mouth, then more and more made its way in as she sucked my sensitive, needy cock. Jennifer sucked my dick with more intensity as she became acclimated to its size and my movements.
I had to fight back the urge to cum, I wanted to hold out, but nothing I could do would stop my body from reacting to her moist lips. I felt like a teenager in the last row at a drive in movie with the prom queen, and the cum began to boil in my loins. Jennifer's head bobbed, faster and faster, as I told her I was going to cum. Her lips wrapped tighter on my dick, and soon my cock began squirting its slimy seed into her masterful mouth.
Jennifer kept her head on my dick, sucking it clean of every drop of sticky cum, before coming up for air. She planted a kiss on my lips, and we shared the residue of my load.
"You taste so wonderful," said the woman.
"That was incredible," was all I could say, quickly zipping up as I heard a car park nearby.
We looked at the car, paying little attention except to notice it was there.
"That was close," said Jennifer, smiling at the older woman driving the dangerously close automobile.
She drove me to my car, laughing at our brush with danger, and we agreed to speak later that night on the computer.
We did, and over the next two months we spent more lunchtimes together than we spent on the phone or computer. We would meet at one of two mall parking garages at least three times a week. At one we parked on the top deck, well away from the up ramp, so that we'd have some warning of someone heading to our level. At the other Mall we found a secluded spot on the bottom floor where we hardly ever saw another car during lunch hours.
We agreed early on that we could do anything with each other except intercourse. I had manually brought her off, and also went down on her in the car. Likewise, Jennifer had given me scores of blowjobs...several times twice in one day. On those occasions she blew me right after we met at the Mall, and then again after lunch.
"My appetizer and dessert," she joked later.
Just last week, we decided to be more adventurous. Jennifer wanted to blow me in the parking lot stairwell, and a telephone worker nearly caught us with my pants down. He bounded down the stairs and almost ran us a couple of minutes after we were safely buttoned up.
Late that night, during a computer "date", Jennifer sighed. "That was close earlier today! Good thing he didn't come down those stairs any earlier."
Little did we know at the time that the man had actually caught us in the act. He must have turned the stairs and spied us, only to shrink back and allow us to finish, getting a birds eye view of Jennifer's exquisite oral talents. At least that's what it sounded like when he called me on the telephone.
"Your girlfriend has a great mouth, doesn't she?" said the faceless man with the deep voice speaking on the telephone. "What a slut. Is she a better cocksucker than your wife?"