How One of my Real Sex Stories was Delivered by Voicemail
I have to admit, as real sex stories go, this one really got my juices flowing. So Naughty. So Devious. And so very Decadent. Well, I’ll let you judge for yourself. Somehow, I don’t think you’ll have any trouble picturing yourself in one of my real sex stories…Just imagine…
You wake up to find the following e-mail:
“Which panties shall I wear today?”
Attached is a picture of seven pairs of panties laid out on my bed. Thongs, boy shorts, bikini briefs; plain colors, patterns; cotton, silk.
“Now this is my kind of multiple-choice question.” You say to yourself out loud.
You respond, telling me to wear the white floral thong, cotton, and to send you a picture of me once I’ve put them on. Moments later, you receive a picture of me, recumbent, my legs spread slightly, my hand reaching down those very same panties.
You can taste my cunt, just by looking at the picture. Imagining the slickness my fingers are encountering. You can hear my heavy breathing as I’m bucking my hips up, slightly, to meet my fingers, to increase the pressure.
As you’re lost in your reverie, your phone rings: it’s me.
You don’t answer. You know why I’m calling. And you don’t want to talk to me.
Some minutes pass. I e-mail again, this time, no picture – just one word: “Listen.”
Your voicemail indicator isn’t as quick as my e-mail – there’s no message showing yet. A moment passes. It lights up. You listen.
It’s a three-minute message. Google Voice reports that it couldn’t transcribe the message, and no wonder.
You know one of my real sex stories unfolding far away from you
It starts quiet, breathy. There’s muffled ruffling. Sheets? Fabric? Then the breathing gets faster, louder; then interruptions of complete silence – as if I’m holding my breath. The rustling is louder, the breathing is somehow both louder and further away.
What’s happened, you wonder – did she drop the phone? You hear nothing… nothing for a good thirty seconds, except more defused rustling. Then the rumbling gets louder, and you hear the breathing again – louder this time; louder and faster. There’s moaning – delicious, lovely moaning. You’re familiar with these moans – you know precisely what’s happening.
You can picture me rolling over on my side, squeezing my thighs together tightly now, as I’m getting close. With one finger, I’m rubbing against my clit with small circular motions. With my other hand I’m fucking myself, hard, fast.
The sounds are louder, and there are more of them. There’s rustling of sheets, moaning, you can hear my arm rubbing against the sheets faster now, my legs kicking. And you’re pretty sure you can hear my fingers sloshing against my pussy juices.
Then, all of the sudden, I’m done. With a loud exhale, a sort of heaving moan, the rustling all stops, there’s silence. And one last, deep sigh.
“Thanks,” I say.
And with a resounding click, the real sex stories voicemail is over.
Wanna listen? Be a fly on the wall to one of my real sex stories? You can, ya know. Just pick up the phone and dial my phone sex line and we’ll have some hot phone sex together!!
