Tuesday 14 July 2009

Voicemail

"This is Staff Sergeant Tom Caldicott. I can't get to the phone right now, but if you leave your name and number, I'll get back to you"

Sitting alone in her hotel room, she replaced the receiver carefully and tried to distract herself with her book. Anything to stop thinking about him. She knew that when he was in his office, one of those technical jamming devices, so beloved of the military, meant that mobile phones were inoperational and so she was at liberty to listen to him say those words whenever she pleased.

The timbre of his voice sent shivers down her spine and she could feel the familiar heat moistening the triangle between her legs. His dominance was almost complete in that he could excite her when he wasn't even there.

There was an imbalance and it needed to be rectified. She knew that she had to restore equality, regain some form of control.

And the idea came to her.

Thinking back to their last encounter at the party, she smiled. After a year apart, his previous denial of the depth of their attraction had been completely overturned and he had given in to his own desperate lust. Ambushing her in the corridor and spreadeagling her in the most insalubrious of surroundings, before burying his face between her legs until she had no choice but to succumb. Gushing her appreciation over his face as she acknowledged their mutual need with the word that had become synonymous with his victory.

Time constraints and his mental compartmentalisation that if he didn't actually penetrate her with his cock again, it wasn't technically infidelity had seen him debase her as some kind of wank fodder. Thick, hot, sticky semen spurting over her belly and breasts. And then the ultimate indignity as he reclothed her over the top of it. She had had to remain at the party for hours afterwards conscious of his fluids causing her dress to adhere to any proximate flesh as she moved. And watch him work the room as they ignored each other.

He was a bastard. But he was her bastard. And it was her turn to retaliate.

Choosing her toy with care, she let herself lie back on the bed and relax into the moment. Feeling her arousal as it grew, enveloping her in a warm glow of self-satisfied pleasure. She thought about the moment that he would have to relieve himself as a result of her next offensive and she smiled at the effect such an image had on her nether regions.

Her excitement growing, she tweaked the dial on the vibrator jammed against her clit, ramping up the power and consequentially increasing the volume of liquid squelching between her legs.

At the optimum moment, she dialled the number again and heard his voice:

"This is Staff Sergeant Tom Caldicott. I can't get to the phone right now, but if you leave your name and number, I'll get back to you"

Her normally clipped British tones whispered huskily and carefully into the receiver. Staccato words that slurred together towards the end as the energy feeding her orgasm took the power from her vocal chords and into her cunt.

'Hello... I... can't... stop... thinking... about... you... and... thisiswhathappens...'

She knew that he would insist on a rather more detailed description of the scenario and so she tried again.

'Tulip... clit... fingers... arse... cunt'

As the ability to communicate verbally began to fail, she turned and positioned the phone on the pillow in front of her, then knelt and spread her thighs as wide as possible. Whilst the tulip vibrated her swollen clit, taking her closer and closer to the edge, she reached behind her to lubricate her ring finger with her own juices and delicately inserted it into the pert rosebud of her bottom, before penetrating her pussy with the two digits above it. Then vigorously probed both holes simultaneously.

Within seconds, she was overwhelmed and the call degenerated into the buzzing of the motor and her uncontrollable moans as the climax began.

The time allowed for the answerphone message expired and the click terminated the connection milliseconds after she had whispered the word that signified her orgasm.

'...Chief...'

From her vacation 3,000 miles away, she knew what effect it was going to have and that retribution would follow swiftly upon her return.

8 comments:

Barlinnie said...

I checked my voicemail after reading this post. All I had on it was a wee fella fae Jewsons asking me how many bags of cement I needed for Friday.

I'm gonnae hang up now.

Gorilla Bananas said...

What a cad! I hope his man goo didn't remove the dye from her dress!

Anonymous said...

That was fantastic Ms. Cake!
Left me a bit breathless, I must say.

Anonymous said...

Absolutely loved it. What a brilliant retaliation. Mind you, I also really enjoyed your recounting of the tale, I must confess.

Nolens Volens said...

Hmm...that's quite a way to tease.

Haiku Master said...

Cake writes about sex
as Conrad wrote about oceans.
The reader is there.

Joanna Cake said...

JimmyB - Cement doesnt do it for you?

Mr Bananas - Is that a common side effect of man goo?

SG - Glad you enjoyed

Mrwriteon - I have a wicked imagination ;P

Nolens Volens - Thank you x

Haiku Master - OMG, I am immortalised in a haiku! This is the ultimate accolade. Thank you x

Barlinnie said...

Ms Cake, it takes more than cement to get me hard!