Social Sway by Anita Hotty - WordPress.com

squeezed together as I tensed my legs.motherly wisdoms, subliminally“Oh,” Mr. Wrong Number replied in a strangely sad voice. Then headded, “Um—I apologize, but you have the softest, sexiest voice Ihave ever heard.”I stumbled a bit. “Really?” I asked rather desperately.Silence transcended the airways for a few long seconds. I wonderedif I sounded too desperate. “What are you wearing?” a softened voiceasked. The question was bold.I was intrigued. I had not been laid for three weeks and I wanted toplay. I looked down at my cleavage once again picturing Mr. WrongNumber’s big man hands grabbing my right breast and rapidlytongue flicking my left budded nipple. “A tight white shirt. Short jeancutoffs.” I grabbed at my crotch and raunchily tugged them downto separate my wetting panties from the snug hold of the materialagainst my parted lips.“I want you to stroke your muff,” he instructed.Who is this guy? I wondered. The sweet deep tone was now demanding.Muff? Muff sounds so barbaric. But that solid, husky voice had mehook, line and sinker. I gushed.I took my hand to my nipple and flicked it with my finger until I feltit getting hard. Then I quickly lowered my hand to my cunt, rubbingmy four flattened fingers against the thick material of my jeans. Iwanted to take them off, rub my meat and feel the creamy liquid ofmy vagina between my fingers. I could feel a yearning from my ass asI imagined a thick juicy cock sliding in and out.“Are you doing it?” he asked in a naughty whisper.“Yes,” I breathed. I looked around for the nearest chair and sat myselfdown, sliding slightly so I could comfortably spread my legs andstroke myself. I secretly wondered what his name was but insteadasked, “How does your cock feel?”“Hard.” At this point I imagined blonde hair and blue eyes. Chiseledbody. Tanned flesh. Construction yard. Hammer in his hand. Sweatglistening off his skin. His tone was abrupt and firmly deep.I wanted more play, more involvement, more voice. “How do you likeHOAR 157