There are no new human activities, only more efficient ways of accomplishing them on a larger scale. Take, for example, how the smartphone has revolutionized the sexual liaison.
It wasn’t always so, though, kids. And that presented some challenges, back in that relative Stone Age.
There were cell phones, of course, in the early 2000s — but if you didn’t have someone’s number, it was a challenge to reach them in case of an emergency. All those messaging apps were still years away.
This was late spring, in a year I can’t quite pin down. The emergency was that I got called in to work on a day that I was supposed to meet a new friend from out of town for some playtime.
To set the stage: I’d have been late 30s, or maybe 40. She was late 20s: long blonde hair, big blue eyes, fair skin, long legs that looked (and felt) amazing in thigh highs. She could pull off a great mix of innocence and sultriness, and that’s not easy to do.
We’d been chatting back and forth for a while on Yahoo and she decided to come up for the day and see family around here that evening. The plan was that we were going to meet at a coffeehouse around 10 a.m., go to lunch together and then go back to her room. But after confirming that plan, the night before she was to come up, I forgot to get her cell number.
The next morning, at 5 a.m., I got a call. They needed me to pick up an extra shift from 6 a.m. to 2:30 p.m., and it wasn’t something I could really say “no” to.
Inside, I was thinking, “Fuck, she’s going to be waiting there for me and I’m not going to make it, and she’ll feel silly and probably hurt, and I’ll never get another chance.”
I had a few hours to come up with a plan, though — and by 9:30, I had something figured out.
I called the coffeehouse a few minutes before 10. I had her name, could describe her and knew that she’d be wearing a dress. So I asked the person who answered if there were a young woman there by that name and meeting her description. Lo and behold, there was — and then I was talking to her.
I apologized, explained the situation, and asked if there were a way we could go to lunch near my office and then get together after I got off work. She agreed, and we met an hour later. I told my supervisor I’d had lunch plans with a friend before I got called in, and so I got extra time instead of the usual half hour.
I walked her to her car after lunch, and she offered to drive me back to work. Once I got in, we started kissing, and before long I was sliding my hand inside her slit skirt, up her legs, past the tops of her stockings, and pulling her thong panties to the side so I could play with her pussy. She was silky smooth, and so wet. I started circling her clit with my fingers, rubbing gently — and keeping an eye out for anyone walking by.
She grabbed tight onto my arm and came, without making much of a sound beyond a low whimper, and then it was time for me to go back to work for a couple of hours. This time, I got her number.
She was staying about a half hour from the office, and I headed straight there as soon as I could. She answered the door in that same outfit and we started right back in where we’d left off before. She slipped off her shoes, adjusted her skirt and sat on the bed, pulling her panties aside again and asking if I’d missed her. All I could do was drop to my knees and show her with my mouth and my middle finger just how crazy the thought of her had been driving me since our time in the car. When I slid in a second finger and started licking long and deep and hard, she squeezed my head with those soft stockinged thighs and arched her back, tensing and releasing and whimpering again.
“Your turn,” she said, patting the bed next to her. I took off everything below the waist and lay back while she swirled her tongue around the head of my cock and then took the whole thing into her mouth. That innocent smile turned wicked when she looked up at me and asked if I wanted her to keep going or take her like we’d talked about the night before — with her wearing everything but her shoes.
I didn’t have to think twice. I love oral, but upskirt sex — especially in stockings? I love that a whole lot more. I rolled her onto her back, took care of coverage, and then tugged her panties to the side for one more languid lick before getting on top of and inside her.
She wrapped her legs around mine, and we started to move together. The pace was slow — in part because I didn’t want to rush, and in part because she was milking me with her muscles and I knew if I sped up at all I wouldn’t last long. She knew what she was doing, too. I called her on it and she just giggled and clamped down harder.
“You know that’s going to make it hard for me to get you there too,” I said.
“You can try that next time,” she said. “I already told you it was your turn now. Let me on top of you.”
I’m oddly proud of myself that I made it another two minutes. She slid down onto me, started working her muscles and grinding down on me, looking me in the eyes and smiling the whole time. When she bit her lip and worked her hips just a little bit forward, I lost it — eyes rolled back, back in a hard arch, everything. I hadn’t had an orgasm that intense in a long time, and I haven’t had many to match it since then.
We collapsed into a heap for a few minutes. then I took off my shirt and undressed her except for the stockings, and we cuddled for a while before going for round two. And this was long and slow, with her moving underneath me and not doing her dirty little delicious tricks, and we did finish together, and if it wasn’t as intense as the first time, it was good to feel her dig her nails in a little bit and let go at the same time I did.
We never got to make it happen again — but at least we had that time, thanks to that last-ditch phone connection and her willingness to change plans on the fly. It occurs to me that I owe the barista a big thank-you, too. She could have just hung up on me instead of looking for a pretty blonde woman in a dress and handing her the phone.
Sometimes things work out right when they seem most hopeless. All the same, I’m glad that technology has evolved since then.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/c7iavv/dont_hang_up_please_true_story_xpost_from
Nice writing!
Loved it. Thanks for sharing!