Beautiful Sex Story 2024
My wife and I recently combined our insatiable desire for
oral sex with the titillating world of phone-sex, and we’re
left to wonder why we hadn’t done so a long time ago.
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To be accurate, when I say phone-sex, I don’t mean me
phoning up my wife and talking dirty to her, or vice
versa, or getting a third party to do it; what I mean is that
my wife and I have sex while one of us is on the phone.
It’s added an exhilarating rush to our already intense oral
activities.
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It started one day when I was home on vacation. I was
waiting for Vicky, my wife, to finish some work so that
we could head out to the beach. She was putting in a
couple of hours at her home-based public relations firm,
following things up with a few of her clients. I was
amazingly horny that morning, considering
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that Vicky
and I had already engaged in a wicked sixty-nine just
before the crack of dawn, with Vicky swallowing what
seemed like half a gallon of my ejaculate while I lapped
up an equally copious quantity of her tangy juices. It had
been quite the pre-breakfast treat, and had left me hungry
for more.
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I tip-toed into her basement office while she was
talking on the phone, surprising her by putting my hands
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on her bare shoulders and then starting to massage her
neck and shoulders. She glanced back at me and smiled,
then covered the mouthpiece on the phone and said, ‘It’s
Cathcart,’ and rolled her eyes.
Lyndon Cathcart owned a furniture store downtown,
and Vicky did a fair amount of advertising work for him.
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He was notoriously long-winded, forever spouting off
about some new scheme to sell his merchandise, so I
knew that Vicky was going to be tied up for quite some
time. But instead of releasing her buff shoulders from my
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grasp and leaving her to deal with her vocal client, I
decided to have some fun. Just touching her warm,
smooth skin had aroused my cock yet again, and its need
for release overrode her need for privacy.
I continued rubbing her sun-kissed shoulders, gently
probing her long, slender neck with my fingers, and then
I bent down and nuzzled the side of her neck, kissed and
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licked her soft, scented skin. She giggled and tried to
shrug me off, but I wouldn’t be discouraged. I ran my
tongue up and down the side of her neck, under her
shiny, black curtain of hair and behind her
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ear.
She moaned softly when my wet tongue licked at the
back of her delicately shaped ear. Then she quickly
covered the receiver with her hand again. ‘What are you
doing, Jim?’ she asked, her face flushed.
‘Helping you deal with your business worries, my
dear,’ I whispered, before replacing words with action
and swirling my tongue around inside her rose petal of an
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ear.
‘Jesus,’ she murmured. ‘No, no, Mr Cathcart, I didn’t
say anything. I was just jotting down some notes on that
billboard idea of yours. Please, continue.’
I took that last part as being directed at the both of us,
so, as Cathcart droned on, I tongued Vicky’s earlobe,
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then caught it between my lips and tugged on it. I pushed
the straps of her tank-top off her shoulders and caressed
the golden flesh of her arms and chest. I slid my hands
underneath the thin fabric of her top and fondled her
naked breasts.
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‘Yes,’ she whimpered; Cathcart thinking, no doubt,
that she was agreeing with one of his ‘swell’ ideas.
I stroked her firm, high breasts; cupped and squeezed
them, played with her nipples, her buds rapidly flowering
to their full half-inch length as I rolled and lightly
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pinched them. I kissed her neck more urgently, bit into
her delicate flesh as I felt up her boobs.
‘Don’t stop,’ she breathed, her head lolling back on
her shoulders, basking in the erotic sensations that my
loving hands and lips were eliciting. She
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pressed the
phone hard against her ear, the mouthpiece tilted away
from her mouth, her hand shaking, her knuckles white.
I spun the chair around so that she was facing me, and
she searched my fiery eyes with her azure eyes, and
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quickly realised that I meant to have her pussy – meant to
eat her out and make her come right then and there, while
she talked on the phone. I was burning with desire; I
wanted, needed to taste her beautiful pussy, lap up her
sticky juices all over again. She nodded her
head.
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After some awkward twisting of the phone cord, I had
her top down around her waist, her chest bare and
heaving. She was tanned all over from our endless hours
spent at the beach, except for a couple of small white
triangles on her breasts where her skimpy bikini normally
covered her. Her pink nipples jutted out at me, yearning
for my hands and mouth.
She slid further down in the chair and I dropped to my
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knees in front of her, gripped her breasts and without
further ado began teasing her sensitive nipples with my
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tongue. ‘God, yes,’ she groaned.
‘What!? Are you all right, Ms Forzani?’ I heard
Cathcart ask in his high-pitched voice. ‘Are you listening
to what I’m saying!?’
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Vicky took a deep breath and ran her trembling fingers
through her hair as I flicked my tongue against first one
swollen nipple and then the other, teased the underside of
her nipples before swirling my tongue all around and
over them. ‘Yes, yes, Mr Cathcart, I’m fine. You said
that you wanted me to come up with a spot for the six
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o’clock news. I can do that.’
He babbled on, and I latched my mouth onto one of
Vicky’s engorged nipples and sucked on it, pulled on it,
tried to swallow up as much of her succulent tit as I
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could. She bit her lip and thrust out her chest, urging me
to devour her breasts. I disgorged her left tit and went to
work on her right, clutching and squeezing the sopping
flesh of one breast while I nursed on the other. She
flipped the phone receiver upside down and moaned, her
eyes closed, her upper body undulating gently as I fed on
her tits and nipples, felt up her breasts.
Then I abruptly pulled my head back, gave her
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glistening tits a final playful squeeze, and slipped my
fingers under the elasticised band of her shorts. Her eyes
popped open and she vaguely shook her head, Cathcart’s
tinny voice filling the room. I nodded slowly and surely,
and she smiled, and then brought her legs together and
arched her body off the chair so that I could slide her
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shorts off her hips and down her legs. I took my time, the
backs of my fingers stroking her slim, supple legs all the
way down.
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I pulled her shorts off her bare feet, threw them aside,
and gazed with delight at her moist pussy. Her clean-
shaven mound glistened under the fluorescent lights, her
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puffy, pink lips crying out to me to tongue and taste her;
fuck her with my tongue; lick and suck her clit. She
spread her bronzed legs as wide as the chair allowed, and
I picked them up and placed them on my shoulders,
brought my face to within inches of her pussy.
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‘Do it!’ she hissed, prompting another agitated inquiry
from her phone-bound client.
I stared at her pussy for a good, long moment and
licked my lips, inhaled the musky scent of her aroused
womanhood. Then I ran my tongue down the side of one
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of her thighs and bit into the vulnerable flesh right next to
her pussy. I did the same with her other thigh. She
gasped, and her legs quivered as I stroked her inner
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thighs with my tongue, painted her skin with my saliva.
She covered the phone with her hand and yelled, ‘Eat
me!’, her blue-fire eyes blazing.
I took firm hold of her thighs and plunged my
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hardened tongue in between her shiny lips, directly into
her pussy. Her body jumped, but I held on tight, driving
my long tongue deep into her sexual core. Then I started
rhythmically fucking her with my tongue.
‘Yes!’ she shrieked.
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I moved my head back and forth, pumping my tongue
in and out of her soaking sex, immersing myself in the
erotic taste and smell of her pussy. I reached in and
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spread her slick folds, exposing an even deeper pinkness,
and I dragged my tongue in long, hard, slow strokes from
her asshole to her clit, over and over.
She held onto the phone for dear life, her face a grim
mask of sexual agony. But she still managed to boldly
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uncover the receiver and say in a strained voice, ‘And do
you have … any more ideas, Mr Cathcart?’ Which, of
course, he did.
She was daring me to bring her off while she
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conducted business as usual on the telephone. I lapped at
her pussy repeatedly, savouring the slick feel and tart
taste of her drenched cunny. Then I gave her pussy one
final lick, smacked my lips with satisfaction, and exposed
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her clit with my fingers before quickly covering it with
my mouth. I sucked hard on her inflamed clitoris,
desperate now to bring her to orgasm and drown myself
in her honey, my head swimming with the awesome
sensuality of it all. She stared fixedly ahead, her teeth
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clenched, her free hand squeezing her breast, pulling her
nipple. I unmouthed her clit only long enough to slap it
with my tongue a couple of times, and then I went right
back to sucking on it.
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‘I … I agree, Mr Cathcart,’ she gulped into the phone,
then yelped when I shoved two fingers into her slit.
That did it. She suddenly went rigid, her muscles
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locking and standing out in stark relief on her bowed
body, and then she was jolted by an orgasm. I ploughed
my fingers in and out of her, sucked and tongued her clit,
as her sweat-slick body jerked up and down, wave after
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wave of ecstasy breaking deep inside her. How she
managed to stop from screaming – from giving Cathcart
a blistering earful of genuine hardcore phone-sex – I have
no idea. But she did. She embraced her orally induced
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orgasms in stunning silence, her rippling body and
gushing pussy speaking volumes.
When I returned to work after my vacation; when I was
up to my ears in paperwork during the afternoon of my
first day back at the office, I received an unexpected
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visitor.
‘Your wife is here to see you,’ the receptionist
informed me when I picked up the phone.
I hurried out to the reception area, less than happy to
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be interrupted in the middle of a busy catch-up day.
Vicky had been to the office a couple of times in the past,
but I actively discouraged her from making any
unnecessary pop-in visits; I like to keep my home and
business life as separate as possible.
‘Hi, sweetheart,’ she greeted me when I rounded the
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corner.
‘H-hi,’ I stammered, my eyes widening as I took in the
outfit she was wearing. She was barely clothed in a white
tube-top that fully revealed her flat, brown stomach and
diamond-studded bellybutton, and a cherry red mini-skirt
that showed off all of her legs and some of her ass. I
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exchanged glances with the smiling receptionist, then
asked, ‘Uh, what’s up, Vicky?’
‘I need you … right away,’ she replied coyly.
I hustled her down the hall and into my office before
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any more of my co-workers could get an eyeful. ‘I’m
kind of backed up right now,’ I began, before the
telephone rang and cut me off. I shut the door, walked
past Vicky and scooped up the phone. It was Takkinen
from engineering; he wanted to discuss the latest month-
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end variance report. I gave Vicky a tight smile and
gestured for her to sit down.
She didn’t. She flipped the lock on the door and then
sauntered over and closed the blinds on the window, her
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tight buns twitching suggestively under that incredibly
brief skirt. And while Takkinen nattered away about the
four-tonne increase in sulphur usage over year-to-date
average, Vicky nonchalantly pulled off her top and
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unhooked her skirt. She stood before me, in my office,
completely and utterly naked save for her sexy, black
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stilettos.
‘Time for some payback,’ she stated, grinning evilly.
I eyed her mouth-watering body, my eyes lingering
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hazardously on her pert tits, her erect nipples, her shining
pussy. I tried to make sense out of what Takkinen was
telling me, but my brain had gone all warm and mushy
when I’d realised what Vicky was up to. She puckered
her glossy lips and blew me a kiss, cupped her breasts
and spread her long legs apart. She squeezed her tits,
rolled her nipples between her fingers, her trim lower
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body swaying from side to side. Then she turned around
and bent at the waist and pointed her round ass at me.
‘Yeah, baby,’ I murmured, rubbing the hard outline of
my cock through my pants.
‘What did you call me?’ Takkinen asked.
‘Huh? Nothing. Just agreeing with you, that’s all.
Keep talking.’
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Vicky nodded her head, turned to face me again and
arched her back and riffled her fingers through her
shimmering hair, her hot body searing my eyes as
Takkinen talked shop in my ear. She strutted over to me,
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until we were mere inches apart, whereupon she brushed
my hand away from my swollen cock and replaced it
with hers.
‘I’m going to suck your dick till you come in my
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mouth,’ she breathed into my face.
I nodded excitedly as Takkinen asked if there was
someone in the office with me.
‘N-no, no,’ I said, choking on my wicked lie. ‘It was–’
I had to halt my explanation and hold my breath when
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Vicky swiftly unzipped my pants and pulled out my
cock, held the rock-hard member in her hot, little hand
and squeezed. She glided her hand up and down my
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engorged manhood, and I swallowed hard and croaked
into the phone, ‘What’s, um, up with that electrical
overage? I bet you want to talk about that.’
Takkinen cooperated, went off on a long-winded,
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technical explanation as Vicky squatted down in front of
me and licked at my balls. I groaned, barely able to
maintain my composure. She tickled my furry balls with
her devilish tongue, her hand swirling all over my stiff
cock, and then she sucked one of my balls into her mouth
and tugged on it.
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I leaned back against the desk and closed my eyes,
Takkinen’s voice rattling on like a distant train, my wife
taking my entire sack in her mouth and pulling on it,
juggling my balls with her tongue. She’d had lots of
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experience with oral sex, and she knew exactly what to
do to drive me wild, to rapidly drive me to the brink of
orgasm.
I opened my eyes and stared down into Vicky’s sky-
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blue eyes, watched as she sucked and tongued my
testicles a while longer, and then disgorged the sopping
wet sack and ran her tongue all the way up from my balls
to my cockhead, bathing my shaft in warm saliva. She
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gripped my dick at the base and licked my pulsating cock
like she was determinedly tonguing a popsicle before it
melted all over her hand.
‘Finish me,’ I implored, my voice a strangled whisper,
my balls boiling with semen.
‘If you look at page forty two, line four …’ Takkinen
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continued, not suspecting for a moment that I was getting
a wicked blowjob from my gorgeous wife while he was
talking to me on the phone.
Vicky tilted my rigid cock downwards and engulfed
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my dickhead with her mouth, sucked vigorously on the
mushroomed cock-top, her tongue buffing the sensitive
underside of my hood. Her head bobbed up and down,
and she took more and more of my throbbing member
into her mouth each time. She could easily swallow all of
my cock I well knew – practice makes perfect, after all –
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but I didn’t allow her to get that far this time around. The
whole dangerous liaison had inflamed my passions so
greatly that I lost control much quicker than usual; so
much so that when she had vacuumed up a good three-
quarters of my cock, I threw back my head and grunted
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with joy and rocketed semen into her mouth, down her
throat. I clung to her head with one hand, crushed the
phone with the other, my body spasming uncontrollably
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with each and every cum-blast.
Vicky never let up on my rupturing cock, staring up at
me as her throat worked and she swallowed my spurting
semen. Takkinen went on and on, but unfortunately I
wasn’t so lucky; my cock was soon empty, drained of an
incredible load by my talented wife. She pulled my spent
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dick out of her mouth, squeezed a final few drops from
my slit and tongued them up. Then she got to her feet,
kissed me warmly on the lips, and put her clothes back
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on.
‘Don’t waste the whole day yakking on the phone,
honey,’ she said over her shoulder, as she slipped out the
door. ‘I know how tiring that can be.’
‘You understand what I’m saying?’ Takkinen inquired
on the other end of the line.
‘Sure … sure,’ I replied exhaustedly, zipping myself
back up with a shaky hand. ‘You’ve been a real help.’
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