Dial 'S' For Sex

A country apart but that didn't matter. His voice down the phone line was so soothing and sweet, his words dripping with that heavenly accent. 

The sexual tension between them was intense. What started out as harmless flirting was rapidly becoming something much darker and fuelled by desire. A phone call here and there to discuss work eventually evolved into those conversations that started with “What are you wearing?” 

Rebecca chewed her nail. It was nine o'clock her time. He was online because he was corresponding with her. All work related of course. “Jeez, Bill is a royal prick,” he said. Rebecca held back a giggle. True, Bill was a prick, but he was also her supervisor. She began to type back when her phone began to buzz. His name flashed on the screen and she got an all to familiar feeling between her thighs.

“Hello,” she said breathlessly. Did that husky voice really come from her?

“Why hello there yourself,” came his voice. She felt her cheeks grow warm, the heat in her face rivalling that of the heat between her thighs.

The conversation started innocently enough. He raved on about Bill and how much of a total asshole he was. Then things turned highly sexual when stopped mid-sentence with “You know, I didn't call you to discuss Bill and that great big stick up his ass.”

“So then, why did you call me?”

“I called because I wanted to hear your voice and to tell you I'm thinking about you bent over my desk in a naughty school girl outfit with that short tartan skirt riding up so I can see your white lacy panties.”

“Have I been a bad girl?” she teased, biting her lip, her hand lightly caressing her breasts through her Snoopy pyjamas.

“You're always bad,” he responded with a laugh. “But that's OK, I know how to tame bad girls.” He cleared his throat. She loved it when he took charge of their conversations, telling her exactly what he would do to her if she were standing in front of him.

“Yes, I can just see it now. That white blouse clinging to your large, firm breasts. Your nipples erect as the fabric caresses them. That short skirt that could rival a belt with lace white panties. You come into my office, all innocent and sweet, asking for an extension on your homework because of some family function that was completely unavoidable. 

“You seductively walk over to me, telling me you'll do anything. I pull you down on my lap. You can feel my erection pressed against your ass. You wiggle a little, teasing me, begging me to take control. And so I do by pushing you over my desk, lifting that little skirt and ripping your panties down your creamy white thighs.”

He paused. Rebecca nearly died in anticipation. “Oh please don't stop, Sean. Please,” she begged, her hand lingering on the outside of her pyjama shorts. She heard him chuckle faintly. “Sorry, my dear, I was busy unzipping my pants and pulling out my throbbing cock. I'd give anything to have your mouth wrapped around it, those enchanting eyes of yours looking up at me, my hand gripping that blonde hair.”

“And here I thought you wanted me bent over your desk,” she teased, awkwardly sliding down her shorts with one hand.

“Oh believe me that's a fantasy,” Sean said. “But as for right now, I can just picture you, sitting at your desk, probably in those Snoopy pjs of yours, running you hand across your breasts, tweaking the nipples until they're hard like diamonds. You leave your breasts before running your hand against the plain of your belly until you reach between your thighs. Slide a single finger into yourself, Becca. Imagine that it's mine.”

Rebecca was already doing that. Her breath quickened as she closed her eyes. “Good girl. Now slide another one in. Fuck yourself.” Rebecca obliged inserting another finger into her moist flesh. She let out a whimper of protest as Sean told her to stop. He laughed as she withdrew her fingers, knowing full well that she would do anything he suggested.

“I want you to tweak your nipples for me,” he said. Rebecca did as she was told. Her nipples were already standing to attention. She told him so. She could almost picture him smiling on the other end of the phone. “Good. Wet your finger and then rub it around your nipple,” he instructed. Rebecca obeyed sucking on her index finger before rubbing her right nipple with it. “Now do the other one, exactly the same way,” came Sean's instructions.

Sean continued to guide her, bringing her ever so close to an orgasm, just not letting her get there. Rebecca was getting frustrated. She had tweaked her nipples to the point that they had began to hurt, she had fingered herself to the point of exhaustion and still she wasn't allowed to come. 

She was one step off getting her vibrator when the voice down the other end of the phone told her to lightly trace a finger down either side of clitoris without touching the delicate bud. Rebecca licked her fingers and followed Sean's instructions. 

Rebecca let out a low moan of approval. That moan got louder when a finger was added to her pulsing flesh.

Freaking out, Rebecca opened her eyes to see Sean standing over her, his weight holding her down in her chair. “Surprise,” he said, taking her phone from her hand and ending the call.

“Sean?” Rebecca was stunned. How long had he been standing there and more importantly, how the freaking hell didn't she hear him?

He traced his finger over her clitoris, sending tiny spasms coursing through her body. Her body twitched. He held her in place, his body leaning on hers, pinning her down in her leather desk chair. He roughly shoved a finger inside her and was delighted by how wet she was. He added a second finger, his teeth nipping at her neck, his free hand stroking his erect member.

“Come for me, Becca,” he said soothingly, nipping at her ear lobe. 

Finally. Rebecca threw back her head, her honey blonde hair cascading down her back like a golden waterfall, letting out a throaty cry as her orgasm washed over her with such power she had never before experienced.

She opened her eyes. Everything seemed glassy. She blinked, her body trembling with delight, the odd spasm still coursing throughout. Every inch of her was alive and tingling, every nerve pulsing. She was tired but satisfied and, oddly, hungry for more.

Glancing up at Sean, she smiled.

“You should come visit more often,” she teased.

To be continued...