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                 K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2007.  Please
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Not So Anonymous: A Phone Sex Story 
by Simon Rundell (simonrundell@easynet.co.uk) 

***

A really, really good jerkoff. (M-solo, F-cyber, mast)

***

It was another one of those lonely nights; she was away 
for the night; 'staying over with a friend' was the 
phrase which usually implied she'd be out until 3 in 
the morning and end up with someone else's cock down 
her throat whilst her best friend was licking her 
pussy. 

No. Put it out of your mind, he thought, because 
although he's not the jealous type, the thought of it 
was more than likely to give him a huge stiffy and on a 
lonely night like this, that was not what he wanted. 

Put it out of your mind, he told himself, as he 
wandered out of the kitchen and back into the lounge, 
put it out of... the vision in his minds eye of his 
angel-faced girlfriend receiving a gallon of jism right 
in the face and down over her huge tits, as she 
climaxed on the end of an equally gorgeous brunette; 
both buck naked, the anonymous guy's prick spurting, at 
least 9 inches, sweat, spunk, groan, spunk, ah.... 

Oh no, not now, not in the middle of Wildlife on One. 
He put his drink down and passed his hand over his 
cock: he was stiff again. No, not merely stiff, but 
achingly stiff, straining against the zip of his jeans, 
threatening a public embarrassment, a rip of denim and 
his rigid prick on display to the general public. 

Except, he reminded himself, that he wasn't in public. 
A wank? Why Not? He hadn't had an orgasm since that 
afternoon, when his girlfriend had voraciously gone 
down on him on the stairs outside their flat: a parting 
gift, pushing him back onto the rough carpet, pulling 
out his cock and bringing him off like a steam-train. 

He'd just wanted to flip her over there and then, face 
into the stairs, pull up her mini-dress, guide his 
purple knob past those tiny lace panties and into her 
tight, wet little snatch; but she wouldn't let him 'Not 
Yet, Later', so he had to be content with being 
hoovered up. She'd suck him dry, and as she stood up, 
she'd licked a small drop of cum from the corner of her 
lip. 

'It didn't even smudge her lipstick', he thought at the 
time, and by now the remembrance of that afternoon, 
coupled with the vision of his girlfriend behaving like 
a complete slut wiggling her fanny for the benefit of 
some anonymous... No, not merely an anonymous, but an 
anonymous, lucky stranger, just made him harder. 

No, this deserved to be more than the average wank, a 
good wank, a real wank. Not some solitary, sad furtive 
wank. He had visions of climbing up onto the roof for a 
second, coming over the passers-by on Shepherd's Bush 
Road. 'Is that Rain?' - 'No, it must be cum then' The 
thought made him smile: this required a top notch wank. 

He went, with a little difficulty as his erection was 
not in danger of diminishing at this point, having been 
fuelled by such sexy thoughts, to the bedroom; into the 
drawer on her side of the bed. Condoms, foreign coins, 
a modest-sized vibrator, KY Jelly, a nail file, Massage 
Oil; sifting through the mundane and the sexual caused 
his knob to jerk inside his pants, the stimulation that 
caused forcing him to clench his buttocks to prevent 
anything major happening there and then. 

'God,' he thought, 'I really am getting off on this.' 
Then he found the magazine he was looking for and 
skipped right through to the back pages; ignoring the 
beaver-shot pictures, the well-painted tarts and stiff 
pricks in the editorial section and straight to the 
small ads. He scanned down them. Bondage, Discipline, 
Humiliation, Nanny? No thank you. Then it stood out and 
he smiled to himself as he knew that this would be the 
solution to the aching balls and hypersensitive prick 
currently torturing him in the downstairs department. 

CALL FOR PLEASURE 0171 ... .... 
ALL CREDIT CARDS 

Not terribly explicit, but discrete. He knew the number 
would guarantee his solution; he had used them many 
times before, many, many times and each time he had 
grown more confident, more in control. This was his 
fantasy, and as he was paying for it, it would be a 
great wank. 

He dialled the number, breathless now at the delicious 
expectation, the sheer naughtiness of paying money to 
talk dirty with someone, of jacking off with the help 
of someone real. He gave his telephone number and they 
looked up his records... yes, the usual credit card 
number, yes, the usual, nothing kinky, just straight... 
any preferences? 

Well, Louise, please. Always Louise. No variety, no 
variation. It was almost like this was a long-running 
affair, as when he had the need to spill, it was always 
Louise who did the business; that sultry voice, that 
dirty vocabulary, that perfect understanding of what 
would bring him off in a most beautiful, sticky orgasm. 

He put down the phone, and went to the bedroom. The 
same routine: move the telephone to by the bed, get out 
the hand cream, take off your clothes. By now the 
shivering expectation of it all was becoming too much; 
it couldn't be the cold, it must be the excitement of 
it all; he brushed his erection, which responded with a 
bob of such great magnitude that it slapped his belly 
on the rebound. It would be a superb wank. 

He did as he always did, and tried the length of the 
telephone cord, by picking it up and lying down. Just 
right. He replaced the receiver, and almost immediately 
it rang again. 

'Simon?' A deep, sexy voice said at the end of the 
line. 'Yes' he replied; Simon was the pseudonym he had 
used since he started this affair with Louise. If 
Louise wasn't her real name, what the hell, that just 
made it naughtier; a completely anonymous relationship 
based on one thing. 

'On your own again? That girlfriend of yours must 
really be neglecting you, silly cow...' The vision of 
that hypersexual girlfriend of his on the end of his 
prick, stark naked against the window, on the kitchen 
table, under the kitchen table, on her knees from 
behind whist she licked out her best friend, the best 
friend, both of them licking his cock and balls, sat on 
his face, sat on some strangers face, and in a brief 
second, the cycle of images came round to remind him 
why he was on his own tonight, and he was able to focus 
his lust. 

'...And how's your boyfriend?' He started. This was 
always a good cue for Louise to start on some really, 
really rude sexual exploit. Either Louise had a really 
good, filthy imagination or her boyfriend was the 
luckiest bastard alive. He gripped his knob, a 
lathering of hand cream to ease the passage, and the 
faint smell of dewberry oil, now inexplicably 
associated by him with sex, rising from his huge, 
straining cock. Cool cream, hot prick; a small dribble 
of pre-cum rising out of the purple end. This was going 
to be a brilliant wank. 

'Oh, he just got what he deserved this afternoon. I'd 
been neglecting him you see, hadn't allowed him to come 
for at least 12 hours, and when he thought he'd be 
going without it for a whole evening, I just pushed him 
back on the stairs and sucked the life out of his huge, 
juicy, fat cock.' 

'Amazing' he thought 'So lifelike' he thought about 
that painful bit on his arse which he reckoned must be 
a carpet burn, from the stairs. '..and what are you 
wearing now, Louise...' he started with the slow 
strokes, the edge of his hands catching the lip of his 
glans, a delicious slow burn started building at the 
base of his arse. 

'I've got on a little black lycra mini-dress...' Black, 
Lycra, very, very short. His girlfriend wore those he 
thought; and in his mind's eye Louise, his paid-for 
tart, the whore he never saw and his girlfriend became 
one. '..Stockings...' Mmmmmm. 

'Suspenders, and the smallest of knickers you can 
imagine'. Mmmm. I can imagine very small, he thought. 
'I can imagine very small' he said to her, starting to 
pant, the fire in his loins responding to the exquisite 
friction of his right hand. 

'I know he wanted to take me from behind...' Mmm. 'But 
I wouldn't let him...'Not Yet' I told him. Oh, this was 
blending fantasy and reality. His memory and his 
voyeurism into Louise's most intimate sexual exploits 
was merging. 'In fact, I really wanted him to put me on 
those stairs and put it straight up my arse, he's never 
done it to me like that and I really want it.' 

Ohh no, please not the anal fantasy again, his hand 
went faster, this really got his rocks off, he really 
wanted to try that on his girlfriend but even given her 
high level of sexuality, he feared her refusal, and 
even now, he was too shy to suggest it. They'd done 
everything else, and as Louise continued to tell him 
how she really loved sucking his huge cock off, and 
swallowing it all, and proceeding to predict what she'd 
do to him when she got back tomorrow morning, his 
fantasies about the brilliant, superlative sex with 
Louise and her boyfriend continued to match that 
superb, exhausting, exhilarating sex he had with his 
girlfriend. 

'This is really nice' he panted, a bit of a euphemism, 
he would often reflect long after. 'This is really 
nice' he repeated. This was the start of the mantra 
that moved him onto the home straight of his orgasm. 
Louise responded perfectly, the words became more base, 
she suggested grabbing his tits. Mmm. His hand was by 
now a blur of flesh and hand cream, the smell of sex 
rising from his groin, his breathing becoming much more 
rapid, and laboured, she was now panting with him. This 
was more than good. 

'Oh, yes, oh yes, I'm about to, please, please... 
Ahhhh.' She beat him to it by a fraction 'I'm coming 
too, please, please' he retorted and they both went 
silent except for some heavily breathing. In the few 
refractory seconds he had time to think about either a) 
how good a faker of an orgasm she was, and how she knew 
how to pitch it so right that it was almost a 
simultaneous orgasm or b) what a slut she really was, 
having a genuine wank whilst he was also, a free wank 
no less. And then she blew the gaffe entirely. 

In her recovery from ecstasy , she called him by their 
personal name for each other, that name which no-one 
else know, the name which was unique and at once he 
realised why she had she was such a good telephone 
fuck. 

'Lou? Lorraine?' Recognition had dawned. No wonder she 
knew exactly which buttons to press, exactly what would 
turn him on, exactly how to get him off in the most 
spectacular way. 

'.....' there was a moment of silence, and then a click 
of a receiver as she put the phone down without 
responding. 

His mind was churning over, but even as he replaced the 
receiver, his prick was growing again, God, this was 
better than fantasy, this was real, this was more than 
a pretend fuck. 

He smiled as he gripped his knob again for another 
round, when she returned in the morning, he had 
something special for her...

END

If you enjoyed this, please let me know. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of
the hands of children. They should be outside playing
in the sunshine, not thinking about adult situations.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 49