Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 The Phone Call

   By Videll Dais

   Sally Davidson was feeling low.  Bob, her husband, had been away for six
weeks now working the oil rigs in the North Sea.  It seemed more like six
years.  She missed him badly, missed their love making, going out together,
everything.  Married only a year, Sally was beginning to think life was
somehow passing her by, leaving her empty and unfulfilled.  It wasn't meant
to be like this, at least not according to the idealized, romantic ideas
she'd grown up with.  Most of her friends from her single days had moved on
and no longer bothered to visit or even call her.  There was only so much
housework you could do, so much gardening and shopping, so much nodding to
the neighbours.  After that it was a hundred percent boredom all the way.
Long evenings watching TV or reading a book or going to bed early - alone!
She didn't have a job anymore.  Bob had made her give up her PA position
with Microtronics, which was a bit of a shame really.  She had enjoyed her
work and had argued against giving up saying there was a lot they needed,
two wages were better than one etc.  But, it was a man thing.  Bob didn't
want a working wife.  "I wouldn't be much of a husband if I couldn't bring
home the bacon now would I?" he was fond of saying.  "There's no point in
you working.  I married you because I love you, want to take care of you,
and give you all the things you need to make things good in your life."
That was all well and good, but right now Sally wasn't getting any of what
she needed.  Sally wasn't getting the love and attention, the kisses and
cuddles, the warmth and security that marrying Bob had promised.  She was
barely nineteen-years old for God's sake.  Ok, it wasn't fair to blame her
husband.  He was only doing his best by wanting to work hard, save hard and
buy them a house of their own.  But, in the meantime, all she had was a
phone call each evening; a long phone call, granted, but that was little
compensation for actually being with the one you love, feeling their arms
around you, their touch on your skin, the security, warmth and strength of
their embrace.  At times, feeling the way she did, Sally thought she was
just being selfish, would try to shake off the despondency, do something
positive and constructive with her time, but it never seemed to work out.
Before long she would be down again as low as ever.  This evening was one
of those evenings.  Again.  By seven, she'd had her bath and put on a
dressing gown.  There was nothing on TV worth watching and she'd neglected
to get herself a promised new book earlier in the day so didn't even have
anything to read.  Effectively, her day was over.  All she could do was sit
and wait for Bob to call.  She hoped he wouldn't be late this evening.  She
just wanted to go to bed.  As it happened the call came early.  Sally was
tucked up in the corner of the sofa, the phone within easy reach.  "Hey,
baby.  Miss me?" "Oh, Bob.  You know I do.  More than ever.  Everyday.  Why
are you whispering?" "'Cause I'm supposed to be working and there's some
guys in the other room." "Why call if you're supposed to be working?  I
don't want you to have to rush off and cut me short." "I won't cut you
short, darling.  I called early because I miss you so bad and I'm feeling
really horny.  It's been a long time without you." "Oh, Bob, I know.  I
wish I could help with your horniness, but there's not much chance of that
over the phone is there?" "Maybe there is, sweetheart.  Maybe you can
help." "How?" "Promise you won't get mad?" "I won't.  God, I'm hardly going
to ruin our only means of contact am I?  Tell me how I can help." "Well, we
could turn each other on.  You talk dirty to me and I'll talk dirty to you.
Get a bit of a fantasy going.  How's that?" "What will you do if I talk
dirty to you?" "Oh, baby.  I'll play with my cock, get it all hard, and
wank while you inspire me to cum." Sally felt herself blush.  Wow, that was
a bit in-your-face for her Bob.  He didn't usually use that kind of
language.  God, the poor guy must be feeling excessively randy this
evening! "We could talk about me licking you all over, fucking you how you
like to be fucked." Sally screwed her face up with distaste.  "Bob!  That's
disgusting." "No it's not, sweetness.  It's just a bit of private fun. 
Come on, be a devil.  Humour me." Sally was unsure.  "You've never wanted
to do this sort of thing before." "I know," Bob said, throatily, "and under
normal circumstances I probably wouldn't dare broach the idea, but we are
so far apart and I need you so bad.  What's the harm?  After all, it's only
a bunch of sexy words.  I just thought it would bring us closer together."
"I know, Bobby," Sally whined, "but it's embarrassing for me." Bobby
lowered his voice even more.  "If you touch yourself while I talk dirty to
you, we'll be sharing something intimate and special.  You can tell me what
you'd like me to do to you, and I'll describe what I'd like to be doing to
you.  We can get each other off.  How's that?" Sally flicked the thick mane
of auburn hair off her shoulder, pressed the phone to her shell-like ear
and tutted.  She felt somewhat confused.  The validity of Bobby's radical
idea didn't sit comfortably in her mind.  Though dirty, obscene language
seemed to be par for the course these days, she did not expect her husband
to use it in front of her nor, indeed, to use it herself.  She hadn't been
brought up that way.  "Oh, I don't know, Bobby.  I really don't think I'd
be much good at turning you on over the phone.  " "C'mon, baby," Bob
whispered, breathily, his tone salacious, strongly persuasive.  "Who else
will ever know?  It'll be a private thing just between us; a little bit of
fun.  At least give it a try." Sally bit her bottom lip, drew her long,
bare legs up more tightly under her.  "Ok," she said.  "If you say so.  How
do we start?" "Tell me what you're wearing right now." "Well, I've just had
my bath.  All I've got on is my dressing gown and my knickers underneath."
"Oh, baby.  Perfect.  Open your dressing gown and lie back on the sofa;
stretch yourself out full length." Sally felt embarrassed at the suggestion
but, even so, she felt her heart beating a little quicker than usual.  "Oh,
Bob.  I feel silly." "Please, baby.  Just do it so I can picture your
gorgeous body spread out on the sofa ready for love...  Ready for me to
pleasure you." "Ok, wait a second then." Sally stretched out on the sofa
and undid the tie belt of her dressing gown.  She left the garment closed.
"Ok, I'm doing like you asked." "Have you opened the dressing gown?  Are
you naked?" Sally spread her robe apart.  "Yes, I am now, well...except for
my panties." "Oh, that's great," Bobby breathed.  "Wonderful.  Just
imagining your beautiful body stretched out like that is really giving me
the hots.  Play with your breasts, baby.  You know how much I love your
magnificent tits.  They're so firm and your nipples get so long and hard.
Go on.  Do it for me.  Play with them." "Oh God, Bobby.  This is so
embarrassing," Sally muttered, biting nervously on her bottom lip again. 
"Just relax and do it, sweety." "Can you speak up, darling?  I can hardly
hear you." "I said loosen up, baby, relax," Bobby repeated, his tone more
urgent, tense.  "Play with your breasts for me.  Make the nipples nice and
erect." Reluctantly, Sally slid her free hand slowly up to cover the firm
swell of her bare left breast and was surprised at how quickly both her
nipples grew taut.  She got that familiar warm stirring in the pit of her
flat belly, too.  God, she thought disbelievingly, it was actually working.
Talking to Bob like this was really making her feel sexy.  "Are you doing
it, baby?  Are you playing with those lovely tits?  Are your nipples
getting hard?" "Ye-es...Oh, yes they are." Sally whispered, moving her hand
to her right breast, cupping it gently, feeling the tingling, erect bud of
her springy nipple stab eagerly into her palm.  "Oh Bobby...  Bobby, I hope
nobody else can hear you, darling." "Don't worry, my sweet.  Just tell me
how it feels touching those gorgeous tits." "I...I don't know what to say.
It feels...  It feels nice, I suppose." "How are you touching them, baby?"
"I'm...  I'm running my fingers over them." "Squeeze each one in turn, like
I do when I play with them." Sally cupped her left breast again and gently
squeezed the firm globe, the extremely sensitive nipple tingled beneath the
delicate touches of her fingertips.  She then moved her hand to her right
breast and gave that one the same attention.  "Ok," she said, feeling
suddenly flushed, her breath catching every now and then.  "I'm touching
them just like you do." "Oh, that's good, sweety," Bobby said,
encouragingly.  "Does it feel nice." Sally giggled.  "Eh...  Actually, yes.
It does feel quite nice." "Oh, good.  Good.  You're doing ok, baby.  You're
turning me on." "Are you...are you playing with yourself as well?" "Am I
playing with what, baby?" "You know -" "Say it, hon.  C'mon, talk dirty to
me." Sally hesitated a moment, then said, "Oh, I can't.  I just can't
Bobby. It's rude.  I'm too embarrassed." "Yes you can.  C'mon.  I want to
hear you saying the right words.  What am I holding in my hand this very
second?  What am I playing with?  Imagine it in your mind." "Your...your
penis." Still caressing her breasts, Sally giggled self-consciously.  "My
what?" Bobby chuckled.  "Your penis?" "Hey, sweetheart," Bobby insisted,
"What are you, a practising physician talking to a patient?  This is Bobby
here.  Your husband, friend and...more importantly, your adoring lover. 
Say cock." Sally protested, weakly.  "Bobby...Please..." "Say cock." Sally
fell silent, her thoughts and her emotions in turmoil.  Again she cupped
and squeezed the hot mound of her left breast, plucking feverishly at the
turgid nipple, pinching it between thumb and forefinger.  She felt herself
go shivery all over.  God, how could Bobby make her say such words. 
Disgust and, surprisingly, excitement washed over her in equal measures. 
"Baby, I'm waiting." Sally's mouth was dry.  She licked her lips, the tip
of her pink tongue wiping slowly along first the bottom, then top cushion
of her slack, full lips.  "Oh, Bobby..." "Say cock for me.  Say it now,
sweety.  It's just a word.  It won't hurt.  Cock.  Say it." Sally took a
deep breath, her magnificent breasts rising high and proud from her rib
cage.  "Cock," she whispered.  "There.  Well done.  That wasn't so bad was
it?" Sally giggled nervously.  "Say it again for me, baby.  Say cock." This
time, Sally didn't hesitate.  "Cock." "Oh, that's good, baby.  I love the
way you say it.  You sound so...horny.  Can you see my cock in your mind?
Can you remember what my cock looks and feels like?  Try to picture it. 
Keep playing with your beautiful tits; tweak your hard little pink nipples
like I would if I was there with you.  Tell me what you're thinking." "Oh
God, Bobby," Sally was flushed, breathless.  "I miss you so bad.  I want
you right now.  Right this minute." "Are you thinking about my cock?" "Your
cock...God, yes.  I'm thinking about your cock and making love.  I love
you, Bobby.  I miss you." Bobby could hear the loneliness, the ache, the
need, in his young wife's voice.  He chuckled quietly, an ominous sound
over the tinny airwaves.  "Can you see my cock in your mind?" Breasts
heaving, Sally closed her eyes and allowed the erotic image to fill her
mind.  There was an instant of guilt, but the heat of the moment was
overwhelming.  What was she doing?  God, what would her father say if he
could hear her saying this stuff, if he could see what she was doing with
her breasts and nipples?  An ex-army Colonel and rigid disciplinarian, he
had raised her to certain very high, very strict standards.  Being as lewd
and wanton as she felt now had never been on the agenda.  Never.  "Ye-es...
I can..." she breathed huskily into the inanimate mouthpiece.  "I can see
your...cock." "Describe my cock to me, baby.  Tell me what you see in your
imagination.  Every detail." "Oh, Bobby...  Your cock is long and has thick
veins.  The tip is...round and smooth...  It feels hot is my hand." "Is it
hard, baby?  Is it sticking up like a pole?" "Yes, like a pole...It's big
and thick and very hard, yet, it's soft to the touch as well.  Smooth, like
velvet."

   "That's good, baby.  You know what I'd do to you if I was there now?"
"What?" Sally's breathing was becoming more ragged by the second.  "What
would you do to me, Bobby?" "If I was there now, I'd put my fat cock in
your dainty little hand, make you rub it for me, make you wank it long and
slow.  Would you like that?  Would you like my cock in your hand?" "God,
Bobby...  Long and slow...Ye-es.  Yes, I would." "You know, we've been
married almost a full year and you haven't put it in your mouth yet.  When
I get home, will you do that for me?  Will you put my hard cock in your
sweet, warm, wet mouth?" "Ooh - Bobby.  Please...This is too much.  Please
don't say that." "But it's what I want.  It's what I need.  You want to
please me don't you, baby?  You want to be a good little wife for me don't
you?  "Oh Bobby...You know I do.  I love you.  I adore you.  I want to make
you the happiest man alive." "When I get home, I'm going to make you take
my cock in your sweet mouth.  I'm going to make you suck it, Sally; suck my
big hard cock.  Make you take it deep into your lovely wet mouth and you
will use your lips and tongue to make me feel good." "Bobby...Oh, Bobby,"
Sally muttered, eyes tight shut, her head rolling slowly from side to side
on the big sofa cushion.  What was he saying to her?  Such filth.  It was
disgusting.  Her breasts felt swollen, the nipples tingled sending electric
currents coursing through her lithe body.  "So Cruel..." she whispered. 
"So Cruel.  Why?  Why do you want to do such an awful thing?" "Because I
like it.  I like having my cock sucked by a beautiful woman and you are a
very beautiful woman.  It's one of the finer pleasures in life my darling,
a pleasure you will learn how to give unreservedly.  Do you understand?"
"Yes...Yes, I understand...  I will try to make it good for you my love,
but you will have to teach me.  I've never done anything like that before.
Oh God, I will worry now." "No need to worry, sweetheart.  I have every
confidence in you.  You will learn how to suck my cock till I cum.  Then
you will swallow my hot baby-juice and lick my cock clean afterwards.  How
do you feel about that?  Can you feel the fat head of my cock pulsing
creamy cum onto your tongue?  Can you feel me squirting into the back of
your throat?" "Bobby...  Oh God, stop.  Stop!" Sally crossed her long, bare
legs, unconsciously squeezing her firm, smooth thighs together.  Bobby's
perverted words bombarded her sensitive psyche provoking ever new and more
shocking sexual imagery.  She felt hot, flustered, kept clenching her
buttocks and fidgeting restlessly as a tight ball of need knotted itself
deep in her flat belly.  "Oh, Bob...  Bobby," "Say cock for me, sweetness."
"Oh God...  Cock.  I want your cock." "What do you want to do with my
cock?" "I...I want to...  I want to suck it for you.  I want to make you
cum on my tongue...  I want...  Oh God, Bobby.  I need you." Sally was
becoming absolutely breathless.  She'd never heard Bob say such dirty
things, such filthy, exciting things.  She knew it was wrong, but, at the
same time, it was so right.  If she was honest, it was just what she wanted
to hear.  For now.  For the moment.  For the duration of this special call.
"God, Bobby, you must be so horny talking like that." "I'm gagging for it,
sweetheart.  My cock is so hard.  It's throbbing and I'm slowly wanking it
while I listen to you.  Are your nipples nice and hard?  Are you playing
with your nipples?" "Y-Yes...yes, I am." "Tell me then." Sally giggled
nervously again.  "I'm pinching and rolling them between my thumb and
forefinger.  They are...  sticking up, long and hard and...aching.  They
tingle when I pull on them." "That's great.  Is playing with your tits
making you itchy down there?" Sally was suddenly aware that she was rubbing
her shapely thighs together.  "I-I think so...a little." ."Touch yourself
down there, baby.  Slip your fingers in your panties.  I want you to touch
your cunt.  Make it wet." There was a crackling on the line which made
Bobby's voice sound robotic and distant for a second, like he was drifting
away from her, floating off somewhere out in the ether.  Sally felt a surge
of panic.  "Bob...?  Bobby?  " "It's ok, baby.  I'm here.  Now do as I say.
Slip your fingers in your panties and play with your cunt." "Please, no-oo!
Don't ask me to do that, Bobby.  Please.  That's going too far.  I can't do
it." "It would really make me feel good if you played with your cunt and
described it to me.  Don't you want to make me feel good?  "Oh...ye-es,
darling, of course I want to make you feel good," Sally couldn't explain
why, but she was now whispering like Bob.  She guessed it was because of
the situation.  It was like they were plotting some dreadful deed or
something, conspiring on some wicked secret and afraid of being overheard.
"It's just that...  Well, I'm not used to doing this stuff.  Not over the
phone." "Let me tell you what I'd like to do to you, baby.  I'd like to
spread your knees wide, push them back so they almost touch your tits and
force your delicious, round little arse to stick out.  Then, holding you
perfectly still, I'd like to slide my long, hard cock deep into your tight,
wet little cunt and fuck it in and out of you over and over again.  Play
with your cunt for me, baby.  Open your legs wide and play with it until
it's all squishy and tingling and ready for my cock to fuck it.  Go on.  Do
it now." Sally could hardly breathe.  She felt hot, flushed, and very
excited.  This sex talk was really getting to her.  "Tell me some...some
more stuff, first." "What do you want me tell you?" Sally pinched each of
her nipples hard, then circled her hand slowly around her breasts,
squeezing each tender mound before moving it down her abdomen to her soft
belly.  Her breathing was becoming more rapid, more erratic.  "Tell me
about...about what else you would like to do to me if you were here right
this minute." "Ok, I would bend you over the back of the sofa, spread your
legs wide, stick my fingers in your beautiful arse, then fuck my cock into
your hot cunt doggy-style.  Would you like that, princess?  Would you like
me to fuck you doggy-style?  That's your favourite position isn't it?  I
like fucking you that way.  My cock goes really deep inside you when you're
bent over." "Oh, yes...Yes," Sally panted.  "God, that is so filthy.  So
dirty.  I'd let you to do it to me though." "Do what, baby?  You're not
telling me what I want to hear." "I'd really like you to...to fuck me
doggy-style." "What about fingering your lovely arsehole?  I really want to
finger you in the arse." "Yes...Oh, yes.  I'd let you finger me there."
"Where?" "In my bum." "That's not what I said, baby.  Come on now.  Where
would you let me finger you." "In...in my a-arse." "That's my girl.  Now, I
want you to slip your panties off and play with your cunt while you tell me
how you like being fucked, darling." The more Bob said, the hotter Sally
was getting.  Her mind alive with myriad erotic images of making love with
her husband, she slipped her hand lower on her belly, her fingertips toying
with the elastic waistband of her low-cut, white panties.  "Are you taking
those little knickers off, darling?" Bob asked, his voice wrought with
sexual tension.  "Y-Yes...  I'm doing it now.  Hold on a minute." Sally
hooked a thumb under the elastic of the flimsy garment and, raising and
rolling her hips, she tugged and pulled until her wispy underwear pooled
around her ankles.  A brief kick and they were off.  "There," Sally
breathed into the phone.  "That's it.  All done." "Are you naked now?" "As
the day I was born," Sally replied, underscoring her words with a nervous,
but mischievous, chuckle.  "Oh God.  That's good.  I can almost see you
laying there naked, waiting for my cock.  I want you to put one foot on the
floor and the other over the back of the sofa." Sally reluctantly did as
Bob suggested.  Cool air seemed to accentuate the heat of her spread sex.
"Got your legs open nice and wide?" "Yes...  God, I feel so...so..." "Like
you want to be fucked, right?" "Yes...Oh, yes.  I want to be...  fucked."
"Hey.  That's very good.  Now play with your cunt for me.  We're going to
wank together." "I-I'm not sure I can do that, Bobby.  Please...don't make
me.  I want to do it for you, but..." "Do as your told or I might have to
hang up and finish wanking off my cock alone.  Do you want me to hang up?"
"No Bobby.  Don't hang up.  I'll do it.  I'll do what you want." "What will
you do?" "I'll play with myself." "That isn't what I told you to do." Sally
couldn't quite grasp his argument.  "Yes it is.  You said -" "I told you to
play with your cunt.  What did I tell you?" "Oh, yes...You told me to play
with..." "Go on." "My...cunt." "Good.  Excellent.  Do it now." Cheeks
burning, Sally slid her trembling hand due south again, over her soft
belly. She held her breath as she cupped her palm over the prominent, meaty
curve of her mons.  Her pubic hair was sparse.  The intimate contact of her
hand over her sex made her gasp.  She drew her legs together and clasped
her firm thighs tightly on her hand, sighing as electric tremors travailed
her naked, aroused body.  There were things she wanted to say, dirty
things, but she didn't know if she could bring herself to be like Bob and
say them out loud.  "You've gone quiet, baby.  What are you doing?  Are you
fingering your pussy?  Is it nice and wet and ready for my cock?  Tell me
what you're doing." Sally breathily whispered into the mouthpiece of the
phone, "I'm thinking...about us.  About making love." "You're thinking
about fucking.  You want to be fucked really badly right now don't you?"
"Yes...  God, yes." "Touch that sweet cunt for me.  Go on.  Do it now."
"I...  I've got my hand down there." "That's my girl.  Are your legs open?"
"No." "Open them like I told you to.  Draw your legs up and part your
knees. I want you...wide open." Sally did as Bob told her.  Even in the
privacy of her own home, she still felt anxious, reluctant to let herself
go, to do what her husband was telling her to do.  God, if anyone saw her
now, laying on the sofa alone, naked, legs spread, hand on her sex, they
would think she was obscene, depraved, a sexual degenerate.  "Oh God,
Bobby! What are you making me do?" "Have you done it?  Are your lovely long
legs open?  Are you touching your cunt?" "Ye-es." "Oh, that's great, baby.
Describe what you're doing." "I'm...I'm gently running a...  fingertip
along the outside." "What d'you mean?  Along those neat, fat pussy lips?"
"Oh, yes...just along the...  slit." "Oh God, baby.  Do it!  You're going
to make me cum!" Sally could plainly hear Bob panting down the phone.  Just
hearing him so obviously aroused seemed to enhance and intensify her own
sensibilities to a degree she would never have thought possible.  She
whispered urgently, "What are you doing?" "God, baby, I'm rubbing my hard
cock!  Wanking it.  Don't stop now.  Open your cunt lips.  Finger your
cunt. Tell me if you're all juicy and wet." Sally curved her index finger
along the plump divide of her soft, tingling labia and gasped.  It felt so
good.  With a minimal increase in the pressure of her fingertip she felt
her labia peel apart and the slick, hot moisture between them.  She gasped.
"Oh, Bobby!" "What, baby!  Tell me!" "I-I'm doing it.  I'm...It feels so
hot and wet.  I'm rubbing my finger just on the inside...It feels so good."
"Touch your clit.  Touch that pink little magic button you like me to suck
on." Just as Bob whispered his urgent instructions, Sally accidentally
brushed her finger over the swollen bud of her oily clitoris and almost
jumped from the sofa.  "Ooh!" "That's my girl!  Go for it.  Go on.  Wank
your clit.  Finger your cunt.  Make yourself cum, baby.  Cum for me.  We'll
cum together." Sally flicked her finger over her clitoris several times. 
Her belly and thigh muscles taut, twitching in sympathy with each electric
touch.  "Oh!" "What?  Tell me what!" "It feels...so good.  My...clitoris.
I'm leaking, Bobby.  I am so wet." "Slide a finger in your cunt, baby.  Two
fingers." Sally pulled her knees higher and sought the entrance of her
vagina.  God, she felt so open, so dilated.  She slipped her index finger
tentatively just inside the hot, moist tube then, after an exploratory
moment, she slid it in all the way.  The ribbed, slick walls clung to the
hard, intruding digit.  It felt good.  "Oh!  I'm doing it, Bobby!  I'm
fingering my...my cunt!" "That's it, baby.  Christ, I can hear you gagging!
How many fingers are you using?" "One." Sally gasped.  "Just one." "Try
two, baby.  I know you like two fingers.  Do it for me!" Sally withdrew her
index finger from her wet sex, then immediately replaced it with both her
index and ring fingers.  She liked it.  A lot.  She fingered herself slowly
at first, getting the hang of the technique, then more vigorously and
deeply, her thumb tweaking her clitoris at the same time.  "Oh, yes.  Oh,
God!  That's good.  That is sooo good!" "Oh, God!  Do it for me, baby!  I'm
going to cum!  Finger your hot cunt!" "Yes!  Yes!  I'm fingering my hot
cunt.  My hot, wet cunt.  For you.  Just for you my darling." "Good girl.
Are you going to cum yet?  I'm nearly there.  I want us to both come
together." "Ooh...soon.  I can feel it.  I am so wet." "Do one more thing
for me, baby.  One more thing." Sally panted.  "Ok." "Make one finger
really wet, then slip it into your tight little arsehole for me.  But keep
diddling your clit and fingering your cunt at the time." "Oh God, Bobby! 
Don't ask me to do that.  I can't.  I know I can't." Sally couldn't believe
what she was hearing.  The very idea was so...so dirty, so disgusting - and
so inspiring!  Even as she was protesting, she knew she would do it.  She
would do anything Bobby wanted her to.  Anything.  She cast her mind back
to the summer soon after they'd met.  They had been at her parent's house,
swimming in the outside pool.  It was a very hot day and Bobby had insisted
on rubbing some suntan lotion over her shoulders and back.  She had been
stretched out on the sun lounger, on her front, wearing quite a daring
bikini as she recalled.  When she felt Bobby undo the strap of her top,
she'd protested strongly.  "No, Bobby.  My parents might come out here at
any moment." Bobby had chuckled.  "They won't.  Your Dad's watching the
cricket and your Mum's taking her usual afternoon nap." He was sitting
astride the backs of her thighs, just below the curving swell of her
buttocks.  "You don't know that.  They might." "You worry about everything
much too much, baby.  Just relax.  They won't be able to see anything
anyway." Sally remembered closing her eyes and surrendering to the
sensuous, oily massaging of her lower back, shivering each time Bobby's
strong fingers dug firmly into her tender flesh or quickly brushed along
the sides of her breasts.  Once, he had leaned forwards to reach the back
of her neck and she'd been startled to feel his erection digging into the
crease of her bottom.  "God!  Bobby!" "I know, baby.  It's ok.  Trust me."
And she had.  Bobby had unceremoniously eased aside her brief bikini pants
and run slick oily fingers right down the crack of her arse and under to
her pouting cunt.  He'd fingered her for just a second or two, long enough
to know she was ripe for fucking.  Then, without warning, he'd told her to
relax and lay still and she'd felt his bare, thick, erect cock ( somehow,
magically released from his shorts) slide quickly back and forth deep in
the crack between her shapely buttocks, brushing over the sensitive,
puckered little star of her anus.  His weight had held her in position. 
She could do absolutely nothing.  Almost before she'd had any time to
protest, Bobby had groaned and she'd felt his cock pulsing, shooting hot
cum over her arse and up her lower back.  A minute later, as though nothing
had happened, Bobby was rubbing his cum into her hot flesh along with the
suntan lotion.  Bobby could be like that: Instant, full of surprises;
demanding, bold and brash; dominating.  Or, as some would put it,
controlling.  And, in truth, Sally would have it no other way.  Her belly
quivered.  Sally moaned into the phone as she played with her clit and
frantically fingered her wet cunt.  Bending her neck to hold the phone in
place against her shoulder, she slipped her other hand beneath her
buttocks. The angle was awkward but not impossible.  Her fingertips brushed
the tight sensitivity of her anus.  "I'm going to...do it, Bobby!  I'm
touching my...my arsehole for you." "That's it, baby.  You can do it.  I
know you want to.  Go on, baby.  Get a finger all slimy wet and slip it in
your bumhole for me." Bobby was sounding croaky, very near to shooting his
cum.  Sally could tell.  "Ok," she whispered.  "I'll try to do it for you."
"Oh, baby.  I love you.  Do it now." "My finger is too dry." "Wet it with
your cunt juice." "Oh God!  Oh Bobby!  It's in.  My finger is in my arse!"
"Aah, that's great, baby.  Is it right in?" "N-Nearly...Oh!  Oh God!  I
think I'm coming Bobby!  I'm coming!" "Aagh - me too, baby!" Sally tensed,
then bounced and twitched on the sofa as her orgasm swamped her mind and
body.  She clenched her knees together, trapping her hand over her cunt as
ripples of pleasure washed over and through her.  It was a while before she
was able to descend from the intense peak to speak again to Bobby.  She
felt drained.  Satiated.  They said a loving goodnight to each other and
then, all too soon, Bobby was gone for another twenty-four hours and Sally
was once more alone.  Eventually, she managed to belt her dressing gown and
shakily rise from the sofa.  She was tired and thirsty.  In the kitchen,
she poured fresh orange juice, drank half a tumbler straight off, and
topped it up again.  In her roiling mind she was going over her first
experience of phone sex and still couldn't quite believe Bobby had made her
do and say the awful things he had.  Had she really masturbated for him? 
Stuck a finger in her bottom?  Made herself actually cum for him?  God, she
thought, somewhat dismayed.  Where, I wonder, do we go from here?  Back in
the lounge, Sally retrieved her panties.  She tidied the sofa and was about
to switch out the light.  Then the phone rang.  Startled, Sally grabbed the
receiver.  "Bobby?" "Hi, Sally, darling," Bobby said.  "Sorry I'm so late
calling.  We had a bit of a tough job on tonight and had to carry on until
it was finished.  How are you, sweetness?  I've missed you."

   Fini