Mistress Phone Sex
A SENSUAL TIME
My wife and I are very close. We share everything - our fantasies, our hopes, our desires -
and we think it's the best possible way to be. This is a story about where that lead us one time....
I'm not sure exactly what woke me around 0100 hours. It was probably the front
door closing. I listened for a moment, and heard voices, so I decided to slip
out of bed and take a look downstairs. Carefully, in only my pajama shorts, I
crept down the hall and peeked around the corner to the open foyer. There was my
wonderful wife and best friend, obviously coming in from an enjoyable evening.
Deborah wore a black mini-dress that was sheer from the waist up, save two opaque
areas that scantily covered her breasts. Sheer sable stockings adorned her
graceful legs. Stiletto ankle boots, faux diamond choker and golden hoop
earrings completed the outfit. Not only was she clearly without a brassiere, but
the dress was straining to contain her endowment. This was the second time she
had gone out in public in clothes that were flagrantly sexy. It was also plain to
see that her make-up was glamorous, and her hair beautifully styled. She looked
like a model, and I was entranced with her striking sexuality. She looked like
something out of Playboy magazine.
Joe stood behind her, his arms under hers and his hands cradling her breasts. He
was also nibbling on her ear, and she stood quietly, eyes, closed with a
contented look on her face. Deborah's hands slid back and began caressing his
hips. His ministrations were clearly enjoyed and encouraged by my wife. After
several minutes of unabated groping, Deborah reluctantly pulled his hands away.
"Joseph, he's probably home," she whispered so I could barely hear.
"He's been working hard lately," commented Joseph. "Let him sleep."
"I had a great time with you, Joe," she said in apology, "but we need to call it
a night." It wasn't that she disliked his attentions. That was certain from her
tone. I guessed that perhaps she was either tired, or frightened of being caught
with him all over her. "Why don't you come over tomorrow? We can all have
dinner together."
"I can't," he replied, disappointed. "I have to be at the office tomorrow by ten
o'clock. We're having some new equipment delivered and installed."
"Lunch this week, then?" she smiled.
"Wednesday," he grinned back. "And remember the dress code," he declared with a
rebuking look.
She met his gaze, and assented with a nod of her head. "I remember," she
reiterated.
"Now, before I go, it's only fitting that I help you out of that dress, since I
helped you into it," he said as he took her gently by the shoulders and turned
Deborah so her back was to him again. He let his hands run down her arms and then
up her back. She had a relaxed, detached expression on her face as he grasped
the zipper and then took his time opening the back of the dress. With steady
hands he then edged the fabric off her shoulders and down, revealing her firm
chest. At a leisurely pace he continued pulling the dress down until it slid
past her lacey French cut panties, to her stocking tops, and then finally fell at
her feet. She stepped out of the dress and then turned around with a pleased
look on her face.
Joe stroked her cheek with the back of his hand as he surveyed her. "You really
are a divine sight," he complemented. "Go ahead and go upstairs, and I'll lock
up behind me." I knew his intention was to watch her ass as she walked up the
stairs. She gave him a hug, then walked toward the steps. Quickly I retreated
back down the hallway and went back to bed. The only problem being that I was
wide awake and had a raging hard-on.
I heard her as she strode down the hallway, and the front door latched
downstairs. She came in and I heard the dress hit the carpet. Then the quiet
thump-thump as her heels dropped, too. I was lying on my side, facing away from
the door. She crept around to my side and leaned over, planting light kisses on
my neck. After a few moments I stirred, figuring this would wake a dead man.
Deborah was barely visible in the feeble light coming through the windows. She
still wore everything but her dress and heels. She looked like a fantasy come
true. She began kissing me, exploring my mouth with her tongue until finally my
hands found her body and I began caressing her arms and brushing against her
hardened nipples. I rolled onto my back and she agilely straddled me, lowering
her body to mine without breaking the kiss. Deborah began rubbing against me with
slow, deliberate strokes, grinding my cock against the fabric of her panties.
The broke the kiss and raised up slightly to find her way through my shorts and
then pull aside her panties so we could make contact. "I missed you," she
whispered as she took me in her hand and aligned me with her pussy.
"Sorry I couldn't--"
"No apologies," she interrupted, placing the tip of my cock inside her. She was
so lubricated I wondered if she had slept with Joseph. I wanted to apologize for
not being able to spend the evening with her. We had talked about the affect my
career had on our marriage, and she accepted that we would have to adapt to my
rough work schedule to get ahead. I still felt guilty when I had to put her
second to my job, though it didn't seem to bother her. Maybe Joseph was becoming
a simple dalliance to occupy her when I was not available. So far, she had never
preempted out time together to be with him.
"I love you, Richard," she said staring into my eyes. "You have my heart forever."
Then she dropped herself onto my cock, sending a wave of pleasure through us
both. After a slow, sensual fuck, we fell asleep in each other's arms.
Saturday morning I got up and fixed us a light breakfast. After eating, Deborah
went shopping, and I went to check my email. Joseph had sent a note earlier that
morning telling what a wonderful time he had with Deborah. They had gone to
dinner, then danced up a storm at a club in the city, had drinks, hit a comedy
club, then headed home. He had a lot of physical contact with her while they
danced, although dinner had not afforded the privacy to really get into her
clothes. He had asked her to start wearing sexier outfits to work and to change
into something even more alluring when they had lunch. He said that they had
scheduled lunch for this coming Wednesday, and he said that he also planned to take
her out this coming weekend, while I was one travel. Joseph said that, in his
opinion, she seemed quite content being his plaything. It was apparent that
theirs was a relationship based in friendship with physical intimacy as an
incidental.
Deborah was up to her old tricks again, and I liked the change. She approached the
physical relationship with Joseph as a simple enjoyment, not an emotional
experience. I still wondered if she would actually go to bed with him. I also
wondered that if she did, would she tell me about it. I even considered the fact
that Deborah might have deduced, or at least suspected, that her interludes with
Joseph were not simple happenstance. She knew that I liked the idea of her
slutting around. She knew the old stories from her college days excited me.
Perhaps she surmised that I might be trying to make some new stories happen. If
that was true, she was doing a wonderful job of collaborating.
Just past noon Deborah called me from her cell phone and said she was going to be
at the mall until dinnertime. I began going over stuff from work and the
afternoon seemed to fly by. Around five o'clock she came home and began
unloading groceries. She also had numerous bags and boxes from the mall. Then
she asked me to go out and occupy myself until eight o'clock, then come home for
dinner. I thought this was a bit peculiar, but I agreed, and set out in my car.
I gave Joseph a call at home and we decided to meet up at his apartment and just
shoot the breeze. We soon began talking about Deborah, and the progress of the
little scheme we had going. Strange as it was, we began comparing notes on which
of her physical features we liked most about her. Her large tits, tight ass,
flat stomach, slender legs and small waist were all high on the list of
favorites.
Joseph also candidly admitted that he had a burning desire to fuck a white girl,
and that he hoped that this would afford him the opportunity to make that fantasy
come true. He said that a couple of friends of his would also love to have their
way with a pretty little white female like Deborah. I admitted that I found it
fascinating to think of her being taken by a black man. There was a thrill to
it. I asked him if he thought that it made a difference to her, and he said that
he wasn't sure, but that she had been very agreeable to the idea of going to a
predominantly black bar last Friday night. The men there had paid her a lot of
attention, and she seemed to really relish it. She had actually danced with one
of them. Many had thought that she and Joseph were married, since she was
wearing her wedding band. He thought that if she had not been wearing her rings,
he probably would have been feeling her up on the dance floor.
Finally, seven thirty rolled around and I headed home. The entire drive home I
thought about my wife getting fucked by black men. The idea was really appealing,
and I was dying to see it happen. When I arrived home a sultry brunette in a
black Basque set; corset and garters, thong panty, stockings, heels, faux diamond
choker, cocktail earrings, and high heels greeted me. Deborah looked like a very
elegant, and expensive, call girl. What made it all the more interesting was her
disposition. Instead of that wild, seductive, "we're going to fuck" attitude,
she was a very attentive and loving wife. Although I wanted to bend her over the
dining room table, she resisted my urges and served us a wonderful dinner by
candlelight. I then enjoyed the view as she cleared the table and served desert.
It was like having a lingerie model as my personal waitress.
Then she led men into the living room and we snuggled up on the couch. She set
the mood with soft lighting and new age music. We began caressing and kissing,
but she insisted on keeping the tempo low. This was going to be a meaningful
night of lovemaking, not just sex. After a while she slid to her knees in front
of me and undid my pants. What followed was one of the most sensuous blowjobs I
had ever had in my life. In reflection, I think she was smart enough to ease the
sexual tension in this manner, allowing us to have a very intimate evening
together. As she expertly sucked, licked, and rubbed my cock against her
beautiful face, I grew relaxed, even as I felt a powerful orgasm building. When
the moment came I couldn't help but thrust into her mouth, my hands intertwined
in her hair. Without resistance she took me deeply, swallowing my cum with
ardency. After she had licked me clean we curled up together and touched and
kissed. When she felt me begin to get hard again, she told me to wait for a few
minutes, then follow her upstairs. I watched in awe as my lovely consort
strolled across the room and slowly ascended the stairs. Even this small action
was made to be a pleasurable vision. Following her request, I waited several
minutes before getting up and making my way to the master bedroom.
There I found Deborah bathed in candlelight, posed on the bed waiting for me. She
was a wife dressed for an intensely sensual experience, not a magazine pinup
girl. She got off the bed to meet me, then commenced slowly undressing me. She
covered my body with soft kisses and delicate strokes of her soft hands then led
me to the bed and laid me down. She lay down next to me and we embraced, our
bodies coiling together. When I was again ready to enter her, she rolled me onto
my back and languidly mounted me. Moving her hips she worked me deeply inside
her until my cock was totally within her body. Then she continued the sensuous
regimen of touching, kissing, and caressing me. I felt as those she was giving
me a gift; herself. There was no immediacy, no finish to rush to. It was just a
long, luxurious engagement that expressed her love for me. After leisurely
intercourse for what seemed like half an hour, she dismounted and rolled me onto
my stomach. She rose and went to the bathroom, then came back with a bottle of
oil. Spreading over my back she commenced massaging my back and neck, taking her
time to knead and rub every muscle. She continued downward, doing this to my
thighs, calves, and finally my feet. Then she repeated the process on my
shoulders, and then my arms.
Turning me back over, Deborah squirted oil on my chest and massaged it in. She
worked her way down to my stomach, then skipped down to my thighs, shins, and
feet. With a smile she poured oil into her palm and rubbed her hands together,
then she began delicately stroking my scrotum and cock, which was now so hard it
was slightly painful. I just lay back with my eyes closed enjoying these
wonderful sensations. Deborah soon took my dick in her fist and began stroking
with greater urgency, her intent now clear. I felt her lips press against mine
and her tongue probe into my mouth as the tempo continued to increase. She broke
the kiss long enough to whisper "Tell me when you are near," then continued the
tongue ballet. I felt the orgasm build quickly and soon I would be at the point
of no return.
"Almost" I whispered, and she immediately ceased. I must have given her the most
desperate look a man can give a woman, but she simply smiled at me lovingly and
then moved down the bed a bit. Daintily, she began licking my cock and peppering
it with angel kisses. This would never make me climax, but it felt wonderful.
At the same time I felt cheated and needed release. After a few minutes her
ministrations evolved into another heavenly blowjob, and again I began nearing
resolution. Once more she halted, and then mounted me. I was in perdition. My
hands roamed her body hungrily; trying in vain to enhanced this intense
experience.
"Richard," she said lovingly, "don't be afraid to live your fantasies." With the
pleasures of her body assaulting my mind, all I could do was look in her eyes.
"I'll give you everything you need," she continued. "I love you so much."
"I love you, Deborah," was all I could say. She was giving herself over to me,
telling me that she would do anything for me.
She pulled me over and suddenly I was on top of her. I was in control. My
driving instincts would now set the rhythm. I had to have release. That one
obsession obscured any other thoughts. "Let me make your fantasies come true,"
she urged me on, wrapping her legs around my waist and pulling me into her. "I
can be your deepest desires."
"Please," I begged desperately, feeling myself on the edge of rapture. My body
was trembling from the endeavor, the excitement and the pleasure about to crash
through me.
"I will," she whispered as I screamed out her name in a tormented frenzy of
gratification. It seemed like I came for hours, like a piece of my soul was
flowing into her along with my cum. Then she was holding me, and I was so
exhausted that breathing seemed my only ability. I was soon asleep in her arms.
Sunday she modeled some of the lingerie and outfits she had bought the day
before. All were sexy and we ended up doing a very satisfying quickie before
lunch. The rest of the day we spent together getting things done around the
house, then we decided to go out for dinner. She slipped on a little black
mini-dress and heels, played with her hair, and we were off. After driving around
a while, we decided on a quaint little pizzeria that was fairly close, but that
we'd never been to. We walked in and seated ourselves, Deborah taking her time to
look the place over. Her simple but alluring outfit made her the exhibit of the
evening, as every guy within viewing distance checked out my torrid little
brunette. The scoop back dress made a bra impossible, so her nipples were quite
noticeable. When the young waiter stopped at our booth to take our order, he had
a difficult time keeping his gaze off Deborah's ample chest. She was sitting quite
near the end of the seat, and he had but to look over his pad to see almost
directly down into her cleavage. The enchanting smile she gave him did help
matters. It only drove the poor boy to further distraction.
When he walked away she gave me a devilish grin. "I hope he gets our order
right," she quipped.
"If not," I teased, "it's your fault. He's probably never seen a hot babe in a
skin-tight black dress walk into this joint before."
She smiled knowingly, but said nothing. We enjoyed a well-prepared Italian meal,
and were never want for service, as our water was back every few minutes to make
sure we were enjoying the food and had everything we needed. Obviously, he was
also catching an eye-full of Deborah with every stop at our table. When we had
finished and he was clearing the table he asked if we were ready for the check.
Deborah, striking a pose that placed her arms on the top of her bench seat, did her
best to appear alluring. The posture arched her back, and showed off her flat
stomach and ripe breasts. "Dessert here?" she asked me, "or at home?" The sexual
innuendo was evident. Up to this point the waiter had been avoiding my eyes for
fear of castigation, since he had spent the last hour gawking at my wife. Now he
turned to me with an amused look on his face. Ours was the camaraderie shared by
men when they know that one of them is definitely going to get laid.
"What to stop for ice cream on the way home?" I asked, playing it off.
"Sounds fine to me," Deborah answered with her eyes on mine. "I'm kind of in a
hurry to get home."
Without missing a beat, the waiter produced the check and I handed him the cash.
He made a hasty return and gave me the change. He took a deliberate look at
Deborah, then gave me a shit-eating grin. "Have a nice night" he said. He knew
that once I got home her little black dress would be history.
I'm not sorry to say that we didn't have any ice cream that evening.
Copyright © 1998 by SIC
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