this?”
“Wrong number,” I say, and hang up.
I let my body drop back against the mound of pillows crowding the headboard of my bed. It hasn’t been a good night. Out of six calls, three numbers were out of service, two rang through to answering machines, and the only one that put me through to a real person gave me the harried housewife.
6
Voices in the Dark
My pussy throbs, and I run my fingers along the silky sheen of my black satin panties. The vibrator comes to life at a flick of the switch, humming on the lowest setting. I press it against my clit, and the wash of sensation burrowing deep in my cunt rips a groan from my throat.
I wish I could just relax into it. I wish I could fuck myself into oblivion with this rubber, battery-powered cock and lose myself in the experience, but I know better.
There’s only one way to achieve the orgasm I so desperately want, and that’s with the help of another piece of technology. I grab the disposable cell, bring it back to life with the click of a button. The screen lights up, and the sickly green glow splashes over my pristine white sheets.
I choose the buttons at random, as I always do, not looking at where my fingers land. I count out the number of key presses to give myself the best possible chance of discovering a number that’s in use and feel a flutter of excitement against my belly as the phone begins to ring.
I turn up the vibrator’s pulse another notch, pressing it closer to my sex. The phone rings again, and the sound sends a shiver of anticipation through me. I bite down on my lower lip to stifle another groan. Lust rises inside me, making my pulse skitter and my heart pound against my rib cage.
“Hello?”
The relief I feel at the sound of his voice—male, young, eager—knows no bounds. I lift myself on an elbow, cradling the cell between my shoulder and ear. I could put it on speaker, but disposable cell phones are notoriously unreliable. I want to hear this man’s voice when I speak to him, not the buzz of static or the clipped tones of an interrupted conversation.
“How big is your cock?”
There’s a pause on the other end of the line. While I wait patiently for an answer, I conjure his image in my mind. Tall, blond, built like a linebacker. I tell myself he’s just out of college, finishing up an internship at a law firm. It’s only a few minutes past 7
Lacey Savage
seven, so he’s probably just arrived home and hasn’t had a chance to change out of his pinstriped business suit.
I picture his cock stiffening, trapped between cloth and flesh, creating a mouthwatering bump along the front seam of his pants.
“Simone? Is that you?”
Ah…he has a girlfriend. It doesn’t surprise me. He sounds much too sexy not to have a woman melting like ice cream in the heat at the sound of his seductive voice.
“I want you to take off your pants. Will you do that for me?”
I push my panties aside while I wait for his answer and slide the toy down between my slick nether lips. The tingling vibration purring against my folds makes me arch my back. The phone nearly slips from my shoulder, but I recover quickly and hold it firmly in place.
“Sure,” he says at last.
It never fails to delight me how easy it is to get a man to play along with some good, old-fashioned, dirty talk. And is it my imagination, or has his voice dropped a notch?
“Good boy. I bet your cock’s nice and big, isn’t it?”
Every man wants to think he’s hung like a thoroughbred Arabian stallion, and that’s fine with me. Oh I know as well as the next girl that the average man’s cock is nowhere near that impressive, but this is my fantasy. If I wish it, the guy on the other end of the phone is built like an Adonis, with a cock to rival an elephant’s trunk. That’s part of the appeal. In this short-lived liaison, I can have anything I want.
“Uh huh.” He’s definitely panting now.
I picture him slowly lowering his zipper, reaching into the slit of
“Wrong number,” I say, and hang up.
I let my body drop back against the mound of pillows crowding the headboard of my bed. It hasn’t been a good night. Out of six calls, three numbers were out of service, two rang through to answering machines, and the only one that put me through to a real person gave me the harried housewife.
6
Voices in the Dark
My pussy throbs, and I run my fingers along the silky sheen of my black satin panties. The vibrator comes to life at a flick of the switch, humming on the lowest setting. I press it against my clit, and the wash of sensation burrowing deep in my cunt rips a groan from my throat.
I wish I could just relax into it. I wish I could fuck myself into oblivion with this rubber, battery-powered cock and lose myself in the experience, but I know better.
There’s only one way to achieve the orgasm I so desperately want, and that’s with the help of another piece of technology. I grab the disposable cell, bring it back to life with the click of a button. The screen lights up, and the sickly green glow splashes over my pristine white sheets.
I choose the buttons at random, as I always do, not looking at where my fingers land. I count out the number of key presses to give myself the best possible chance of discovering a number that’s in use and feel a flutter of excitement against my belly as the phone begins to ring.
I turn up the vibrator’s pulse another notch, pressing it closer to my sex. The phone rings again, and the sound sends a shiver of anticipation through me. I bite down on my lower lip to stifle another groan. Lust rises inside me, making my pulse skitter and my heart pound against my rib cage.
“Hello?”
The relief I feel at the sound of his voice—male, young, eager—knows no bounds. I lift myself on an elbow, cradling the cell between my shoulder and ear. I could put it on speaker, but disposable cell phones are notoriously unreliable. I want to hear this man’s voice when I speak to him, not the buzz of static or the clipped tones of an interrupted conversation.
“How big is your cock?”
There’s a pause on the other end of the line. While I wait patiently for an answer, I conjure his image in my mind. Tall, blond, built like a linebacker. I tell myself he’s just out of college, finishing up an internship at a law firm. It’s only a few minutes past 7
Lacey Savage
seven, so he’s probably just arrived home and hasn’t had a chance to change out of his pinstriped business suit.
I picture his cock stiffening, trapped between cloth and flesh, creating a mouthwatering bump along the front seam of his pants.
“Simone? Is that you?”
Ah…he has a girlfriend. It doesn’t surprise me. He sounds much too sexy not to have a woman melting like ice cream in the heat at the sound of his seductive voice.
“I want you to take off your pants. Will you do that for me?”
I push my panties aside while I wait for his answer and slide the toy down between my slick nether lips. The tingling vibration purring against my folds makes me arch my back. The phone nearly slips from my shoulder, but I recover quickly and hold it firmly in place.
“Sure,” he says at last.
It never fails to delight me how easy it is to get a man to play along with some good, old-fashioned, dirty talk. And is it my imagination, or has his voice dropped a notch?
“Good boy. I bet your cock’s nice and big, isn’t it?”
Every man wants to think he’s hung like a thoroughbred Arabian stallion, and that’s fine with me. Oh I know as well as the next girl that the average man’s cock is nowhere near that impressive, but this is my fantasy. If I wish it, the guy on the other end of the phone is built like an Adonis, with a cock to rival an elephant’s trunk. That’s part of the appeal. In this short-lived liaison, I can have anything I want.
“Uh huh.” He’s definitely panting now.
I picture him slowly lowering his zipper, reaching into the slit of
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