Two New Voicemails
- 1 year ago
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Guided By Voice free porn video
She didn't recognize his voice. As she sat behind her desk, lost in a reverie she couldn't quite have put into words...she was sure she didn't know this man. And yet the things he was saying...
"I don't mean to shock you. But then perhaps that's not entirely true."
"I'm sorry, I can't answer that-"
"But you want to." He was calm, confident in the way he spoke to her, although she was sure they knew nothing of each other.
"I can't."
"Its a simple question. When was the last time you had an orgasm?"
She was blushing, as silly as it was, since no one could see her. But all the same...
"I'm sorry, I'm going to have to hang up I can't be talking about...that...right now..."
But it was all she could think about now.
She had always found voices to be the most key element to her sexuality, her lust for a man, and this voice...smooth and rough at once...
She wanted to tell him.
"It's been..." She paused, listening for anticipation in the measured breathing on the other end of the line, but the same steady pace of tidal breath met her ear.
"It's been a week since I had an orgasm."
Even though she'd wanted to, she was still surprised to hear herself say it. Because the truth was...before the call...before this mysterious stranger...she had been sitting here, lost in that reverie when she should have been focusing on her work. Lost...because in the background of every though she'd had that day since she'd closed the door to her own little private world here in her office, beneath every sensible professional thought was the faint feeling of her soft lips, just the slightest bit wet from the long days and nights when the only hands she'd felt...were her own. And though she knew her body like no other, could indeed tease and test the edges of her own orgasms with subtle, sweet ease...there was no substitute for the feel...the surprise...of another person's hands on her...the shock of a strange man's fingers brushing her thighs.
She shivered, and his voice brought her back.
"When you came last, was it alone, or did someone else make you cum?"
"I...I can't, I shouldn't have even answered that last question...I should go."
But if I go, she thought, how will I ever find out who this deep, dusky voice belongs to?
"If you really must go, I wouldn't want to keep you. You answered my question, if you'd like, we can simply say good morning, and both be on our way."
She had no idea what to say.
"Why did you ask me that?" she blurted out.
Again, for a moment, no response. In that moment she felt sure she'd imagined it all, her frustration and longing building to this crescendo, her mind bringing this...this fantasy to life for her. There had been no voice on the other end of the phone...just her deep well of desire. He was gone.
And then he responded, hesitant for the first time. "I...want to...guide you. Guide your hands...tease you with your own fingers. Move your hands as if they were mine...with just the words you hear me speak..."
"Do you like to give up control?"
She wanted to say no. But she didn't.
"Yes."
Another pause...this one seemed final in some way. As if whatever this was, it was fully become.
"Will you let me guide you?"
...
"Yes."
"And if I promise to be polite, will you promise to do exactly I say?"
...
"Yes..."
"Tell me what you're wearing.
"A...I'm...I'm not sure...I should-"
His tone cut her off and held her rapt all at once.
"Tell me what you're wearing.
She swallowed. "A blue blouse, a skirt...stockings." She blushed. "Heels."
He exhaled softly, deeply, satisfied. "Your skirt...is it tight?"
"Yes."
Pause. She barely breathed.
"I want you to stand up at your desk."
She did, slowly but without hesitation.
"Are you standing?"
"Yes."
"Hike it up slowly."
Her hands moved to the hem of her skirt, and she gently, slowly, evenly rolled the thin black material up, exposing more and more of her soft, warm thighs as she did. Her fingers brushed the soft lace of her panties as her skirt rose slowly up until her hips were exposed..."
"Stop when your panties are exposed."
She did as she was told, feeling the gentle breeze of the air conditioning blowing cool air against her warm thighs, her warm...
"Now sit."
She sat.
"So...your skirt is hiked up and your panties are exposed."
"Yes."
"What kind of panties are you wearing."
"Black. Lace." She let one finger tip gently brush the soft fabric, a small charge of electricity coursing up her spine as she felt the soft flesh through the thin fabric. "Thin, see through."
Pause.
"And are your panties wet?"
She shivered a little. She wanted to hang up, but she wanted to give in, to this voice, this desire.
"I..." she crossed her legs and the dripping wetness of her body washed over her like a wave. She moaned, slightly, softly.
"I'm so wet. I'm always so wet. I've been dreaming of, of hands on me, of..."
"Shhh..."
She was quiet.
"Are your finger nails long?"
She was surprised, not at all what she'd expected, though she had no idea what to expect in all honesty. "They...aren't too long, but they are a bit...I just got them manicured a few days ago."
She heard one soft low laugh.
"Take one fingernail...and gently...firmly, but not too firmly..."
She waited with anticipation she could never have imagined.
"What?..." she asked breathlessly.
"Slowly scratch back and forth against the very tip of your clit through your thin panties.
Again, for a moment, she felt as if she had no idea where she was or what to do. This voice, what he was asking, it didn't seem real. But then her hand slid slowly down between her legs. She crooked own finger, her index finger on her right hand. And slowly, she let the tip of her nail rest against her clit. She felt the soft pressure of her hard finger nail pressing gently against the quivering tip of her clit through her panties. She felt the small bud of her clit swelling against her finger, pulsing as if it was crying out to be touched. But only the tip of one fingernail would touch it yet. She had no idea what to expect.
And then slowly, firmly, but not too firmly...she began to scratch the very tip of her clit through the thin, soaking wet panties.
The sensation...it was like the barest tickle, just on the edge of sensation, as her fingertip moved slowly up...and down...up...and down...against her throbbing clit. At first it was a vague sense, but slowly, she felt this...warmth...heat...slowly spreading...radiating out from the center of her and from the slight soft strokes as against her sensitive clit. Slowly, scratching...slowly...up...and down...up...and down...
"How does that make you feel?"
She tried to speak and found it took her a moment to compose herself. "Ha...I...it feels...makes me feel..."
What did she feel?
"Tell me."
"Aching..."
And she moaned as the still steady flick of her fingernail up and down against the tip of her quivering clit brought slight, steady convulsions out of her.
"A little faster, a little more firm," was all he said.
With every stroke of her finger tip, with slightly more pressure pressing against her clit, she felt it began to be pulled slightly...every so slighty...up and down with each stroke of her finger tip. Up...and down...the delicious sensation as her clit struggled out from under her finger, pushing back against the gently, fluttering sensation of her movement.
Up...and down...up...and down...and she moaned.
"Faster, but no firmer."
Now the sensation was like a buzzing, almost like the small vibrator she kept in the drawer right next to her. She loved her little rocket, but this...she sense of abandon, of another man's will guiding the rapid flicking and fluttering or her finger against her pulsing clit...this was...this was something else entirely.
He whole body began to tremble as he said "Faster," again.
The feeling...she almost forgot the phone, the voice, his voice. Her body...she continued rapidly flicking that strong finger tip against her pussy just as he told her. She was moving so quickly now, the feeling of the vibration of her nail back and forth against the thin fabric...
Breath hissed between her teeth.
"Scratch gently, but as fast as you can."
Electricity stole through her. She shook and sighed and lost the thought of everything but his voice...his voice...guiding her hands...his hands...teasing her...her clit...so...sensitive.
"Faster."
She nearly screamed.
"Now stop."
Without her mind even feeling it, she stopped, and he whole body cried out in extacy and loss. She wanted to touch clit more than anything in the world. Except what she really wanted to do...was whatever he told her to do.
"How do you feel?"
"Oh god..."
He laughed softly...once.
"Now...would you like to know, what I would like you to do?"
"Yes, I do."
"You want me to tell you again...exactly what I'd like you to do?"
"Yes, please."
"Because following my voice, my words...felt so good, didn't it?"
"Yes."
"Did you expect it to feel so good?"
She was trembling again, the soft moisture dripping down her thighs. "No, I didn't."
"So now you know how it feels to follow my instruction, you're willing to trust me, and let me tell you just how to touch yourself?"
"Yes. Please tell me." She squirmed in her seat.
"What I want you to do..."
Her breath caught, held in suspension, anticipation...
"...is fix your skirt, slide it back down."
A sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach.
"And now...I want you to go about your day."
She was stunned. Silent. She blinked, trying to comprehend what he was saying...her body crying out to be touched...her clit...
"I want you to hang up the phone and go back to work. Don't forget what happened between us, but let it fade, just a bit-"
"I can't-"
"Shhh..." He stopped her, but in a soothing, soft way. "You trust me?"
"I..." She was in a daze, all she could think to say was... "yes."
"Then if I promise you that if you wait, until the next time I call, it will be worth it?"
"Wait? What do you mean wait?"
"Wait to touch yourself."
Her mind reeled.
"Wait until I call again, with more guidance, to touch yourself."
"But I-"
"How did it feel to tease yourself like that just now?" He was so matter-of-fact.
"God...it felt...I've never wanted to...more...just..."
She sensed him smiling. "So imagine...that wait...imagine...waiting...never knowing again when the next time you'll pick up the phone and hear my voice saying...
He inhaled deeply and she heard the sonorous rasp of his voice.
"Take one finger, and slide it deep inside your pussy..."
On instinct she did as he said and she cried out as one slender digit slipped between her lips and pressed inside of her.
"Now stop."
She slid her hand out and whimpered.
"How did that make you feel?"
"Oh god..."
"And it felt that way why?"
She blinked, no words. And then...
"Anticipation?"
"Exactly."
The ether between them was palpable, almost as if she could see him through a haze, feel his breath, his skin, his...
"So you'll wait for me? Hold that anticipation in your heart until I call again?"
She was torn in pieces, wanting so many conflicting things.
"You will, won't you?"
"Yes," she said, softly, a thousand miles away.
"And you won't cum until you hear from me?"
She felt almost like crying. But she said,
"I won't."
"Good."
A final, seemingly infinite pause.
"Alright then. We'll talk soon."
The dial tone in her ear was as if from a distant star she'd never heard of. She was lost, transfixed...had this really just happened.
She shifted slightly in her seat. The warm wetness between her thighs told her the truth.
He had been real.
She looked at the phone. Breathless...
In anticipation.
"I don't mean to shock you. But then perhaps that's not entirely true."
"I'm sorry, I can't answer that-"
"But you want to." He was calm, confident in the way he spoke to her, although she was sure they knew nothing of each other.
"I can't."
"Its a simple question. When was the last time you had an orgasm?"
She was blushing, as silly as it was, since no one could see her. But all the same...
"I'm sorry, I'm going to have to hang up I can't be talking about...that...right now..."
But it was all she could think about now.
She had always found voices to be the most key element to her sexuality, her lust for a man, and this voice...smooth and rough at once...
She wanted to tell him.
"It's been..." She paused, listening for anticipation in the measured breathing on the other end of the line, but the same steady pace of tidal breath met her ear.
"It's been a week since I had an orgasm."
Even though she'd wanted to, she was still surprised to hear herself say it. Because the truth was...before the call...before this mysterious stranger...she had been sitting here, lost in that reverie when she should have been focusing on her work. Lost...because in the background of every though she'd had that day since she'd closed the door to her own little private world here in her office, beneath every sensible professional thought was the faint feeling of her soft lips, just the slightest bit wet from the long days and nights when the only hands she'd felt...were her own. And though she knew her body like no other, could indeed tease and test the edges of her own orgasms with subtle, sweet ease...there was no substitute for the feel...the surprise...of another person's hands on her...the shock of a strange man's fingers brushing her thighs.
She shivered, and his voice brought her back.
"When you came last, was it alone, or did someone else make you cum?"
"I...I can't, I shouldn't have even answered that last question...I should go."
But if I go, she thought, how will I ever find out who this deep, dusky voice belongs to?
"If you really must go, I wouldn't want to keep you. You answered my question, if you'd like, we can simply say good morning, and both be on our way."
She had no idea what to say.
"Why did you ask me that?" she blurted out.
Again, for a moment, no response. In that moment she felt sure she'd imagined it all, her frustration and longing building to this crescendo, her mind bringing this...this fantasy to life for her. There had been no voice on the other end of the phone...just her deep well of desire. He was gone.
And then he responded, hesitant for the first time. "I...want to...guide you. Guide your hands...tease you with your own fingers. Move your hands as if they were mine...with just the words you hear me speak..."
"Do you like to give up control?"
She wanted to say no. But she didn't.
"Yes."
Another pause...this one seemed final in some way. As if whatever this was, it was fully become.
"Will you let me guide you?"
...
"Yes."
"And if I promise to be polite, will you promise to do exactly I say?"
...
"Yes..."
"Tell me what you're wearing.
"A...I'm...I'm not sure...I should-"
His tone cut her off and held her rapt all at once.
"Tell me what you're wearing.
She swallowed. "A blue blouse, a skirt...stockings." She blushed. "Heels."
He exhaled softly, deeply, satisfied. "Your skirt...is it tight?"
"Yes."
Pause. She barely breathed.
"I want you to stand up at your desk."
She did, slowly but without hesitation.
"Are you standing?"
"Yes."
"Hike it up slowly."
Her hands moved to the hem of her skirt, and she gently, slowly, evenly rolled the thin black material up, exposing more and more of her soft, warm thighs as she did. Her fingers brushed the soft lace of her panties as her skirt rose slowly up until her hips were exposed..."
"Stop when your panties are exposed."
She did as she was told, feeling the gentle breeze of the air conditioning blowing cool air against her warm thighs, her warm...
"Now sit."
She sat.
"So...your skirt is hiked up and your panties are exposed."
"Yes."
"What kind of panties are you wearing."
"Black. Lace." She let one finger tip gently brush the soft fabric, a small charge of electricity coursing up her spine as she felt the soft flesh through the thin fabric. "Thin, see through."
Pause.
"And are your panties wet?"
She shivered a little. She wanted to hang up, but she wanted to give in, to this voice, this desire.
"I..." she crossed her legs and the dripping wetness of her body washed over her like a wave. She moaned, slightly, softly.
"I'm so wet. I'm always so wet. I've been dreaming of, of hands on me, of..."
"Shhh..."
She was quiet.
"Are your finger nails long?"
She was surprised, not at all what she'd expected, though she had no idea what to expect in all honesty. "They...aren't too long, but they are a bit...I just got them manicured a few days ago."
She heard one soft low laugh.
"Take one fingernail...and gently...firmly, but not too firmly..."
She waited with anticipation she could never have imagined.
"What?..." she asked breathlessly.
"Slowly scratch back and forth against the very tip of your clit through your thin panties.
Again, for a moment, she felt as if she had no idea where she was or what to do. This voice, what he was asking, it didn't seem real. But then her hand slid slowly down between her legs. She crooked own finger, her index finger on her right hand. And slowly, she let the tip of her nail rest against her clit. She felt the soft pressure of her hard finger nail pressing gently against the quivering tip of her clit through her panties. She felt the small bud of her clit swelling against her finger, pulsing as if it was crying out to be touched. But only the tip of one fingernail would touch it yet. She had no idea what to expect.
And then slowly, firmly, but not too firmly...she began to scratch the very tip of her clit through the thin, soaking wet panties.
The sensation...it was like the barest tickle, just on the edge of sensation, as her fingertip moved slowly up...and down...up...and down...against her throbbing clit. At first it was a vague sense, but slowly, she felt this...warmth...heat...slowly spreading...radiating out from the center of her and from the slight soft strokes as against her sensitive clit. Slowly, scratching...slowly...up...and down...up...and down...
"How does that make you feel?"
She tried to speak and found it took her a moment to compose herself. "Ha...I...it feels...makes me feel..."
What did she feel?
"Tell me."
"Aching..."
And she moaned as the still steady flick of her fingernail up and down against the tip of her quivering clit brought slight, steady convulsions out of her.
"A little faster, a little more firm," was all he said.
With every stroke of her finger tip, with slightly more pressure pressing against her clit, she felt it began to be pulled slightly...every so slighty...up and down with each stroke of her finger tip. Up...and down...the delicious sensation as her clit struggled out from under her finger, pushing back against the gently, fluttering sensation of her movement.
Up...and down...up...and down...and she moaned.
"Faster, but no firmer."
Now the sensation was like a buzzing, almost like the small vibrator she kept in the drawer right next to her. She loved her little rocket, but this...she sense of abandon, of another man's will guiding the rapid flicking and fluttering or her finger against her pulsing clit...this was...this was something else entirely.
He whole body began to tremble as he said "Faster," again.
The feeling...she almost forgot the phone, the voice, his voice. Her body...she continued rapidly flicking that strong finger tip against her pussy just as he told her. She was moving so quickly now, the feeling of the vibration of her nail back and forth against the thin fabric...
Breath hissed between her teeth.
"Scratch gently, but as fast as you can."
Electricity stole through her. She shook and sighed and lost the thought of everything but his voice...his voice...guiding her hands...his hands...teasing her...her clit...so...sensitive.
"Faster."
She nearly screamed.
"Now stop."
Without her mind even feeling it, she stopped, and he whole body cried out in extacy and loss. She wanted to touch clit more than anything in the world. Except what she really wanted to do...was whatever he told her to do.
"How do you feel?"
"Oh god..."
He laughed softly...once.
"Now...would you like to know, what I would like you to do?"
"Yes, I do."
"You want me to tell you again...exactly what I'd like you to do?"
"Yes, please."
"Because following my voice, my words...felt so good, didn't it?"
"Yes."
"Did you expect it to feel so good?"
She was trembling again, the soft moisture dripping down her thighs. "No, I didn't."
"So now you know how it feels to follow my instruction, you're willing to trust me, and let me tell you just how to touch yourself?"
"Yes. Please tell me." She squirmed in her seat.
"What I want you to do..."
Her breath caught, held in suspension, anticipation...
"...is fix your skirt, slide it back down."
A sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach.
"And now...I want you to go about your day."
She was stunned. Silent. She blinked, trying to comprehend what he was saying...her body crying out to be touched...her clit...
"I want you to hang up the phone and go back to work. Don't forget what happened between us, but let it fade, just a bit-"
"I can't-"
"Shhh..." He stopped her, but in a soothing, soft way. "You trust me?"
"I..." She was in a daze, all she could think to say was... "yes."
"Then if I promise you that if you wait, until the next time I call, it will be worth it?"
"Wait? What do you mean wait?"
"Wait to touch yourself."
Her mind reeled.
"Wait until I call again, with more guidance, to touch yourself."
"But I-"
"How did it feel to tease yourself like that just now?" He was so matter-of-fact.
"God...it felt...I've never wanted to...more...just..."
She sensed him smiling. "So imagine...that wait...imagine...waiting...never knowing again when the next time you'll pick up the phone and hear my voice saying...
He inhaled deeply and she heard the sonorous rasp of his voice.
"Take one finger, and slide it deep inside your pussy..."
On instinct she did as he said and she cried out as one slender digit slipped between her lips and pressed inside of her.
"Now stop."
She slid her hand out and whimpered.
"How did that make you feel?"
"Oh god..."
"And it felt that way why?"
She blinked, no words. And then...
"Anticipation?"
"Exactly."
The ether between them was palpable, almost as if she could see him through a haze, feel his breath, his skin, his...
"So you'll wait for me? Hold that anticipation in your heart until I call again?"
She was torn in pieces, wanting so many conflicting things.
"You will, won't you?"
"Yes," she said, softly, a thousand miles away.
"And you won't cum until you hear from me?"
She felt almost like crying. But she said,
"I won't."
"Good."
A final, seemingly infinite pause.
"Alright then. We'll talk soon."
The dial tone in her ear was as if from a distant star she'd never heard of. She was lost, transfixed...had this really just happened.
She shifted slightly in her seat. The warm wetness between her thighs told her the truth.
He had been real.
She looked at the phone. Breathless...
In anticipation.
Madison
- 21.02.2022
- 7
- 0
