Press "end call"

I answer the phone on the second ring.

"Hello."

"Uh, hi."

"Hi there. I'm Marie. How are you doing?"

" - I'm good." He's hesitant.

"Great. What's your name?"

"Uh - do I have to tell you?"

"Not at all. But it would be nice to know what to call you."

"Oh. Okay. Um - Anthony." That pause was to allow him to think of something. Of course he's not going to use his real name. I'm not using mine either.

"Hi Anthony. It's nice to talk to you. Is this the first time you've made a call like this?"

Nervous chuckle. "Yeah, actually."

"Well, I'm very flattered. Are you calling from home, Anthony?"

He hesitates again. "No. Ah - no."

"Well, that's fine, I don't really need to know where you are, the most important thing is that you're somewhere where you can be relaxed and comfortable. Are you relaxed and comfortable, Anthony?"

Fabric rustling, like he's adjusting his position.

"Yeah, I am."

"I am, too. So, how are you feeling today?"

"Okay, I guess."

"Just okay? Well, I'm feeling really good. You want to know why?"

"Sure. Yeah. Sure."

"I'm feeling good because just now I've been thinking about my special fantasy. It makes me excited. Really hot and aroused. Would you like me to tell you about it?"

"Your fantasy? Yeah. Tell me." I like his voice. Deep, resonant. I wonder if he's got his dick out yet. I wonder if he already had it out when he was dialling. Time to warm this up, give him a taste of what he wants.

"Okay, Anthony. Here it is. I want you to imagine that I'm talking about you, okay? Because I am. In this fantasy you're the big boss of the company I work for, the CEO. You run the whole show. You stride through the building and everything about you is so strong and powerful. All the employees watch you go by, and the men envy you. The girls want you. You're tall and lean, but we can all can see how muscular you are beneath your clothes. Your suits are made to measure, to show off your physique, and they're fucking expensive - I bet even your ties cost more than I earn in a week. People find you intimidating. You're at the top of your field, rich and successful. You're the sort of hotshot who gets into the society pages on a regular basis, but you're not just a dandy and a playboy. You're a high-achiever, worth every penny you make. And handsome? You're so fucking hot it's a crime. You make me so fucking hot it's a crime. Are you with me, Anthony?"

"Yeah. Yeah." He sounds like he's smirking a little. He likes the way I'm describing him.

"I'm an office girl, one of many. I don't think you've ever even noticed me, but every time you go past I'm checking you out. I try not to let you see it. I love the look of your chest underneath those shirts you wear. I love the look of your thighs. God, if you knew the way I stare at your package I'd fucking die. It makes me squirm in my seat, stealing glances at your hands and imagining how they'd feel on me. Mentally measuring them, trying to work out the size of your dick from the size of your hands. You've got big hands, Anthony. I'm so fucking wet for you, Anthony, every day I'm so horny. Sitting at my workstation, mashing my legs together because you've just walked past me and my clit has started to throb. During my break times I go to the bathroom, and I - I can hardly tell you what I do in there, Anthony. You'd think I was some sort of nympho. Do you want to know what I do?"

His breathing is audible now. "I want to know. Tell me."

"Okay. When I go to the bathroom, first I have to check that I'm alone, Anthony. I wouldn't want to be caught. I stand in front of the mirror. My job is very responsible and I have to dress in conservative outfits, but that's not what I'm like on the inside. I wear a skirt and blouse and a jacket to work, but nobody would ever guess at my underwear. None of them have any idea what's underneath my clothes, but I'll tell you. Have you ever seen the kind of bra called a shelf bra?"

"Ah - no."

"Picture this, then. A shelf bra pushes a woman's tits up, but it doesn't cover her nipples. They stick out over the top of the lace. In my case, my tits are probably about the perfect size for you to cup in your palms. My nipples are pale pink. Until I'm turned on, that is. Once I'm excited, they're really deep pink. Can you imagine that, Anthony?"

"Oh. Yeah." Getting better.

"And my panties. I don't wear respectable panties, Anthony. I wear panties that are made of mesh fabric that's completely transparent. And I don't shave all my hair off, but I trim. I've got curls on my pussy, and you can see them through my underwear. You can see my slit, too. From the right angle you can see my lips. Nobody at work knows that, of course. They'd never even suspect it. It's my secret. Do you like my secret, Anthony?"

"Yeah - oh, yeah. It's a good secret."

"And I've got another secret, Anthony. I love looking at my body. My skin, my waist, my hips, my pussy, my tits, Anthony. Oh fuck, especially my tits. I love fondling them and squeezing them. I love rubbing my nipples and watching the color change as they go hard. That's what I do after I've been staring at you, when I have to go into the women's bathroom. That's why I wear a shelf bra. But Anthony, I can't just stand around in there with my blouse unbuttoned, fondling myself. What if someone came in and saw me? I'd get reported. You're the boss - you'd find out. I'd be in all sorts of trouble. You'd order me to come to your office for some sort of disciplinary procedure, wouldn't you?"

"Yea-yeah," he pants.

"So, Anthony, even though I want to stay standing in front of the mirror watching myself, I have to go to a cubicle. I have to be private and shut myself in there so no-one can know what I'm up to. God, that's when I wish you could be in there with me. I want to grab you by your fucking tie and drag you away from running the fucking company, and I want to blow your mind. I'd lock the cubicle door and shove you up against it, and my hands would be all over you. All over you. I'd show you how turned on you make me. Your body is so firm and muscled, I'd pull your immaculate shirt out of your pants and tear the buttons off so I could run my fingertips over your abs and your pecs. I'd grab your ass and hold it tight while I rammed my hips against yours. You're fucking tall, but I'd reach up to your face, and pull you down and order you to suck on my nipples until I whimper like an animal. Do you like the sound of that, Anthony?"

He does, if his ragged breathing is anything to go by, and so do I.

"But you know what, Anthony? Even when I go to the bathroom and finger myself and pretend that it's your fingers inside me, it's not enough. It doesn't satisfy me. I need to get closer to you. So one day when I know you've got appointments elsewhere in the city, I go into your office, shutting the door behind me. You've got a huge desk because you're the most important person in the corporation. You've got every fucking latest piece of technology there is, and even your own private bathroom. You're the boss. I sit in your leather chair and it feels so luxuriant against my skin, even through my tight skirt and my stockings. Then I stand, spreading my hands on your desk and bending over it, feeling the friction of my tits rubbing against its surface, imagining you're behind me, taking me hard, filling me, pounding into me. God, I'm depraved to have these thoughts about my boss, when I'm such a quiet, unassuming girl. No-one would see inside my head and guess I have these dreams of being so rampantly fucked. You wouldn't have guessed that, would you Anthony?"

"Mmm. Uhh. No."

"But Anthony, do you know what happens when I'm in your office, fantasizing that you're fucking me? I suddenly hear a key in the lock. There I am, my skirt pulled up around my hips because I've had my hand in my panties, my blouse open because I've had my other hand in there pinching my nipple, and I'm so flustered and flushed and out of breath. I'm a mess, Anthony, I was nearly climaxing, right on your desk. It's shameful. Oh, I'm going to be in so much trouble if you catch me. What would happen if you found me face down on your desk, hand between my legs, touching myself Anthony?"

Now he almost stammers. "I - uh, I don't know. Tell - me."

"I'd get reprimanded, at the very least. I'd probably lose my job. There's no way I wouldn't look like some sort of sex-freak. I've been biting on my lips and I know they're swollen and red. I'm an employee, masturbating on the CEO's desk. It's perverted. There's only one thing I can do - I have to hide. There isn't time to go anywhere but under your desk. I'm crouching in there as I hear you walk through the door - and you're not alone. Christ, there are other guys with you. They can't see me, but I'm trembling as you move across the room and I see your legs in front of me. You're talking, you're welcoming your guests, and I realize that you've got an important meeting going on. You sit in your chair, pulling it in closer to the desk, and even though I'm as far away as I can possibly get, I'm only inches from you. So fucking close, Anthony. Your crotch is practically in my face. It's right there. Your dick, right in front of my mouth. I couldn't ever in a million years have envisaged being this close to your dick, and yet here I am. And I get an idea so outrageous I can't believe what I'm thinking. Can you guess what I'm thinking, Anthony?"

"Are you - are you - thinking about my dick?" This is going well, now. I hear a rhythmic sound, exactly what I want to hear. He's going for it. My story is having the desired effect. It's fucking working on me, too.

"That's all I'm thinking about, even though I'm in such a dangerous situation. I'm so fucking horny, Anthony. I've wanted you so badly, for so long. I'm going to make you feel good. That's all I want to do, and I don't even care that other people are in your office. I start by putting my hands on your knees, and it makes you jump. Instantly you push your chair back, and this is the make or break moment, when I'm completely at your mercy. I must be such a sight, half-undressed, my hair in disarray and my tits in a scandalous bra, my nipples swollen and hard because I was already so aroused when you walked in. My mouth is open as I stare up at you, waiting for what you decide. You could fire me on the spot - fuck, you could make me stand up in front of those other men in the state I'm in, practically half-naked. But you don't. You act like I'm not even there, and you carry on talking, returning your chair to its previous position. And then, Anthony - then you reach under the desk, and touch my hair. Fuck! I just got your permission to carry on. And I'm going to keep going until you stop me. I'm going to touch you, Anthony. My hands are on your knees again, and they're moving upwards. Your thighs are so strong. So powerful. You're talking as I explore, and I'm getting closer to where I want to be. There's light coming through from the window behind you, and I can see where I'm heading. You're a naughty man, Anthony, you're fucking kinky, because I can see an outline in your pants. You're liking what I'm doing, and the evidence is there. You're developing a boner, Anthony. I feel dampness in my panties just looking at you, because Anthony, even at half-mast, you're impressive. Oh yeah. Another few seconds, and I find out that your dick is fucking huge."

The sounds are faster. My caller's breathing is uneven. The sounds of him spurs me on.

"Tell me, Anthony. Admit it. Your dick - it's so massive I don't know how it even fits in your pants. I'm licking my lips with anticipation, wanting to see it. I've got to get my hands around it, get my mouth around it. I'm going to be so wicked, so sinful, sucking my boss off while he's in the middle of a business meeting. I'm going to love it. Is your dick hard right now, Anthony? Tell me that you're hard for me."

"Oh, God. Marie - I'm hard. I'm so fucking hard."

"Tell me you want me to touch you."

"Touch me. I want it."

It's all going really well now. He's turned on, I'm turned on.

"I hope you're not shocked, Anthony. You must think I'm really dirty, wanting to pull my boss's zipper down and reach in to his underwear, and grope his dick. All along the length of it. I want to feel the weight of it. I want to curl my fingers right around it and measure the girth. Fuck, I am really dirty, aren't I? All the time at work I'm acting so prim and proper, wearing my glasses and my sensible clothes and saying yes, Sir, no, Sir, while all I really want is to to rip my boss's clothes off and tongue his penis until it's rock hard and then push him back onto a chair and climb over him and ride him. Am I dirty, Anthony?"

"Yeah, yeah. You're dirty."

"Oh, God, it's so shameful. But in the situation we're in, Anthony, I can't do those things. I'm hiding under a desk, you're sitting at the same desk, and there are other people in the room. I can't ride you, or fuck you in any way. I'm throbbing with want, but I can't do it. You're talking like you're not affected while I'm on my knees in front of you in agony. My panties are soaked, I can hardly breathe, and you're completely calm. But that calm is only on the surface, isn't it? Because I can see your dick is swollen. Really swollen. Does it hurt when it's that hard, and it's confined, Anthony? Is it painful to have such a big hard-on compressed so tightly against your belly like that? Would you like me to do something about it for you?"

"Oh. Yeah."

"What would you like me to do?"

" - Take it. Take my dick. In your hand."

"Okay, Anthony. That's exactly what I'm going to do. My fingers are on your upper thighs, creeping slowly higher. I feel you tense a little, because you know where I'm going. Your underwear must be very tight, Anthony, with the way your dick is trapped sideways across you. I reach it, and my fingertips start to trace the outline, very lightly. You're mid-sentence but you stumble over your words the second you feel me touch you. You actually let out a groan, Anthony, but you disguise it as a cough. I'm stroking your shaft, and you must be - eight inches? You're massive. I'm taking my time, enjoying how fucking good you feel, and when I get to your head you groan and cough again. I'm exploring your ridge with my fingers, and your cock is twitching. You want out of that underwear, don't you Anthony? You need it. You need me to undo your pants and pull your dick out so it can stand up straight and rigid. It's going to practically jump into my hands, isn't it? You're wound up so fucking tight, you need my hands. Am I right?"

"Fuck, yeah. Fuck yeah."

I love the sound of his breathing now. It's uneven, jerky. His voice is husky. I imagine he must have his eyes closed, giving himself a visual. Picturing a girl with her tits heaving out of her blouse, lips open and wet, eyes heavy with lust, all her attention focused on his dick, wanting it. He's in a room with other people, she's hidden and they're not aware she's there, and she's fondling his erection through his pants. Wanking him. In public. It's filthy. So fucking filthy.

"Your zipper, Anthony. I've gotten hold of it. I'm sliding it down. You can't even speak any more. Someone's asking you a question, but you're staring down at your lap, where you can see my hands at the front of your trousers. You watch me find the slider, and you watch me pull it down. Your dick is straining against the fabric of your boxers, and there's a wet spot at the tip. It's pre-cum, Anthony. Especially for me. I want to taste it. I want it. I curl my hand around your tip, and your shaft, and your length, and you're almost trembling now. When I slip my fingers through the elastic of your waistband and touch your skin for the first time, you gasp. Fuck. So do I. You're so fucking warm, and so silky. So goooood, Anthony, so good."

My own breathing is uneven, both from my words, and from what I see in my imagination. I'm picturing Anthony, and I see him as insanely hot. He's sprawled in an office chair, wearing a business suit and shirt, with a tie. One hand is in his hair, fingers threaded through the roots, almost clawing at it so that it stands on end, and the other hand is gripping the arm of the chair so hard his knuckles are white. His head is flung back, eyes closed, face twisted in what looks like pain. The top button of his shirt is undone and his tie, though still knotted, hangs loosely. His belt buckle is open, as is the front of his trousers. Bulging from the opening of his fly is a long, thick, erect, uncut cock, the swollen purple head glistening with pre-cum, and half-emerged through the foreskin. My God. What a fucking vision. I moan into the phone, and hear his breathing pick up even more.

"Marie, I can hear you. Are you - aroused right now?"

"Anthony, fuck, I'm so fucking excited. I'm touching myself thinking of you. I'm wet, and my fingers are sliding all over my clit. Anthony, I'm opening myself, wanting you. Talking about this fantasy is making me need to fuck you. My fingers aren't enough. I need your big hard cock."

We're both breathing really heavily, and I can hear how fast his hand is going as he's jerking himself off. He's got to be near finishing, from the soft grunting sounds he's making.

"Anthony, have you got me on speaker?" I know he has, I can hear it.

"Fuck, yeah."

"Are you using both hands? Are you fondling your balls as you pump your dick?"

"Yeah, yeah I am. What - what are you doing?"

"Oh, Anthony, I'm filthy. I told you I'm filthy. I'm finger-fucking myself, at the same time as I'm playing with my clit. Can you - hold on just a moment?"

"What?" he says, sounding concerned. "Marie - are you still there?"

"Oh, fuck baby, I'm still here. I just had to put my fingers in my mouth. I swirled my tongue round and round, getting them wetter. I like a lot of moisture, Anthony. It feels so good when I'm super slippery. I wish your tongue was on me, instead of my fingers. I bet your tongue is really soft and warm. I wish I had your face between my legs, and I could push my pussy into your mouth for you to suck on me. Would you like that?"

All he can manage is, "uh - oohh," I know he's close, I can hear the tension.

I take a deep breath. "Anthony? We haven't finished with my fantasy yet. I'm holding your dick, right now, as you sit there trying to maintain some self-control. But your self-control is breaking down. It's breaking down because I've reached inside your pants to hold your balls in my palm. You've spread your legs to give me access. And at the same time, I'm sliding my other hand around on your dick, slowly. Really slowly. I know you need me to speed it up, because your hips are starting to grind. But I've got you in my fist, Anthony, and I'm making you go slow. Do you know why?"

"Don't stop, don't stop. Fuck. Just keep talking."

"I can't let you come, Anthony. No matter how close you get to the edge, you can't come. What would fucking happen if you shot your load and you got semen all over the front of your clothes, and then you had to stand up as if nothing was going on? And Christ, Anthony - what if your come was on my face and in my hair?"

"Fuck! Let me come. I have to. I fucking have to - oh, Jesus, Maria."

"You're touching yourself right now, aren't you Anthony? Wanking. Gripping your dick and moving your hand up and down on it. How excited are you? Are you turned on?"

"I'm about to make a mess all over myself here. I'm ready to - please, don't stop talking to me."

"Here's what you've got to do, Anthony. Sit forward in your chair, all the way forward. Spread your thighs. Can you feel me, there under your desk, kneeling on the floor in front of you? My arms are over the tops of your legs as I keep working your dick. You can't see me, but can you feel me?"

"Yes - yes, Christ." He's moaning. Good.

"Maybe we can do this, Anthony. Your balls are getting really tight. They feel so beautiful to me. Your dick is like fucking steel. We've got to time this right, Anthony. Are you ready for me? I'm going to take your gorgeous, giant, stiff cock into my mouth, Anthony, and I'm going to suck you hard. Tell your guests you need a moment - just one fucking moment, to gather your thoughts - and then put your hands over your face. I want you to come in my mouth. I want to feel your jizz shooting through your shaft, making your cock pulse in my hand. And I want your hot come to spurt into me, to the back of my throat, every last drop in my wet, waiting mouth, my lips holding you tight, my tongue - "

I don't need to tell him about my tongue, because he's orgasming. He brokenly curses. I'm on the verge myself, teetering there, desperate to topple over.

"Marie? Fuck, baby, fuck," God, what a voice he has. It goes through me like lightning.

"Oh, God. Christ. That was incredible. Did you get yourself off too? I didn't hear you come - did you come, Marie?"

"Uh, almost, Anthony, I'm - I'm - " I gasp back, fingers frantic.

"Oh, Marie, fuck, I wish I could have waited for you," he answers, trying to catch his breath, voice low. "I tried baby, but you were just too good. You made me feel so fucking hot, my cock was ready to explode, thinking about you touching yourself for me. Thinking about your pussy. I bet you've got the most beautiful pussy in the world, I just want to get my tongue into you and lick you inside and out, I want to feel your wetness all over my mouth, I want to suck your perfect clit. I want to make you come in my mouth, I'm going to do it, I'm going to finger-fuck you and lick you - "

There's a roaring in my ears drowning him out, and I'm over the edge, soaring into freefall, bursting like fireworks. Moaning, panting, gasping, flying.

And while I recover he's whispering things.

"You're fucking glorious, you know that? You've got the sexiest voice I've ever heard. Hearing you come made me hard for you again. And you were right about me having a big dick. You should see it right now. I'm ready for round two. Can we do that?"

Well, that's not the way it works, sorry baby. Just let me collect myself and I'll tell you the rules.

"Anthony, I can't talk to you any more tonight. It was fun. You're a sexy guy. But I'm going to have to hang up now."

"What - no cuddle?" he tries, in an attempt at humor. It's kind of cute.

"I need to get off the line. Thanks for calling me."

"Uh - okay. Well, thank you, Marie. That was an - interesting conversation. I think I'll sleep well tonight."

"I hope so. Good-bye, Anthony."

Before he can say anything else, I press end call.

Later, getting ready for bed, I'm thinking about Anthony. I enjoyed talking to him. Something tells me I'm going to sleep very fucking well tonight, too.