by Abby Angel
I kiss her tenderly, her tongue dancing around mine as she takes in the flavor of my cum into her mouth. We lock eyes, then, and I know that whatever happened before we got into this alley, won’t be resolved tonight—everything in due time. I push my boxer briefs and pants up, tuck my shirt in, and give her a broad gentle smile.
“Let’s get out of here,” I tell her. Arm-in-arm, we waltz into the street again, my cock twitching as I remember rather indecently what I have stuffed down my pocket: Ashley’s wet underwear.
*
“Hi, this is Misty, who am I talking to?” Ashley says, her voice coming at me like the most perfect sound in the whole universe. Yes, I’m calling her again—you can keep that judgmental look to yourself. It’s stronger than me.
Last night, after our quick dirty romp in a back alley, I got her a cab home and took another one myself. I tried to get some sleep, but all I managed to do was lay around in bed wide awake, tossing and turning while memories of her tight pussy floated around my mind. Eventually, I just got up; I picked my pants from the floor and took her used thong from inside my pocket, bringing it up to my face so that I could breath her scent in. That was all it took for my cock to stiffen—just feeling the soft fabric on my fingers made me ache for release again. Remember when I told you that Ashley makes me insatiable? This is what that means.
Alone in my bedroom, I just had to jerk myself, my eyes closed as I pictured her delicious naked curves. You know, I couldn’t even remember the last time I masturbated like that; whenever I had an urge, I could just pick some random hot woman and fuck her brains out. But not anymore, not since I first laid eyes on Ashley… Now I can’t bring myself to fuck anyone else, my cock suddenly going monogamous. That’s a first for me.
So, yeah, don’t judge me if the first thing I did after waking up was sit down on my couch and pick up the phone. A man can only resist so much, after all.
“Who do you think?” I say, pressing the phone against my ear as I mouth the words with my grave King Henry voice. I almost feel like the Batman, juggling two identities, one that makes Ashley come with my cock, and another that does it using just words.
“It’s you, Henry. I’ve been… waiting for your call,” I hear her say, her purred words making my heart pump warm blood straight to my cock. It gets hard, tenting my pants as I lean back against the couch.
“Have you? I don’t know if I believe you, Kitten. After all, you’ve been fucking other guys while you keep on taking my calls,” I say, propping my feet up on the coffee table as I rest my hand over my crotch, feeling my hard bulge with the tip of my fingers. I just can’t help but ask her about… well, me. But, for a few seconds, there’s only silence on the other side of the line.
“It’s true, sir… I spent all night thinking of you,” she tells me, her voice letting through a hint of Ashley’s true personality. There’s honesty there, she’s no longer playing a character. Somewhere along the way, King Henry has stripped Ashley out of her Misty persona.
“Is that so, Kitten? And what did you think about?”
“I thought of… The way you make me feel. I get so very wet whenever you take control." “I know you do. Now tell me, Kitten… What are you wearing right now?” I start massaging my cock over the fabric of my pants, taking my time with it. Hell, I never thought I’d be one of those guys who does this—calls a phone line so that they can get off. But with Ashley… There are no limits to what I will or will not do.
“I’m wearing a tiny little robe… And underneath it, an even tinier black lace thong,” she tells me, my fingers curling around my bulging. “No bra.” Christ, this is insane.
“I like that, Kitten. I like that a lot. But I would prefer you naked…” I say, drawling out the last part of my sentence as I imagine her there, lying in bed with only her thong on. “Take if off.”
“Yes, sir,” she purrs, and then there’s a long silence, followed by the sound of her moving about. She is actually taking her clothes off; this is not some imagination carrousel. “I am naked now.”
“Good. Where are you, Kitten?”
“In bed… All alone.”
“Good. Close your eyes now. I want you to imagine my hand on your skin, my fingers running from your navel up to your breasts…” I say, her breathing growing louder. “But don’t touch yourself, Kitten. Not yet; only when I say so.”
“Yes, sir,” she says, the tone of her voice telling me about the state her pussy is in right now: soaking wet.
“I want you to feel my body pressed against yours, my cock sliding deep inside of your wet pussy…” I continue, my own eyes closed as I picture the scene. What I wouldn’t give to be there now, lying in bed next to her naked body. “Imagine my big cock going all the way in, stretching you wide as I fuck you.”
“Yes, I… I am,” her words sound more like anxious moans now, and I can tell she’s eager for my permission to touch herself. But if she wants that, she’s going to have to wait. “I want that so much, sir… You can’t imagine how much.”
“Oh, yes, I can,” I tell her as I push my pants down, my cock jumping free against the palm of my hand. I grab it, feeling it pulse against my fingers as I hear Ashley’s hard breathing through the phone. Calling a sex line might be a fucked up thing, but I’m too into it right now; there are no brakes on this train.
“I want you hard,” she says suddenly. “Tell me that you’re hard.”
“I am hard, Kitten… And my thick cock is right here, waiting for those lush lips of yours.” I start stroking myself, moving my hand up and down at a quickly growing rhythm. This is fucking insane; it might not be the first time I’m doing this, but it doesn’t make it any less crazy.
“I want it in my mouth,” she blurts out, almost as if she has no control over what she’s saying. “I want to curl my fingers around it and suck on it as I stroke you… And I want to look you in the eyes as I do it, my mouth full with your cock. I want to pleasure you, and I want to touch myself as I do it.”
Fuck, I’m jerking myself hard now, her words turning into pictures inside my head.
“My nipples are so hard, sir. And my pussy is so wet… Can I please touch myself, sir? Please…” She asks me, genuinely begging for my permission. Christ, she could just lie, go ahead and do it, but no, she really wants me to say it, to allow her to do it.
“Yes, you can touch yourself,” I tell her, taking a deep breath before I do it. I don’t want to sound like a fucking breathless guy that’s stroking himself into oblivion, although that’s exactly what I am right now. “I want you to slide two fingers inside of yourself as you rub your clit, Kitten.”
She doesn’t even say anything; her moan is all that I need to hear to know that she’s doing it. Here we are, miles apart and still pleasuring ourselves, even though she has no idea that "King Henry" is the guy who actually fucked her last night.
“I… want…” she starts, trying to push the words out of her mouth between her hard breaths. “I want that big cock of yours… So damn much,” she moans, her honeyed voice climbing all the way up to my brain and stabbing it right in the middle. “I want to make you cum, and I want you to do it all over me, sir. I want you to cover me with it while I’m on my knees, my mouth open wide as you fill me up.”
That does it for me. I don’t even tell her I’m about to come, I just explode before I have the time to think about it. I groan into the phone, but I don’t think she hears me; she’s moaning loudly, almost screaming as if I was actually there, my cock buried inside of her pussy. I sit there, grabbing my cock while thick ropes of cum gush out of it, the sound of her orgasm numbing my mind. This might be fucking insane, but it doesn’t make it any less good, let me tell you that. Sure, the real thing is way better… But this beats just using my imagination, there’s no question about that. And, of course, I’m pretty sure of who she’s going to turn to after King Henry has left her in a wet mess: good ol’ Arsen Hawke.
“I… I just couldn’t help myself, sir,” she says,
her voice a quivering mess. “I had to come. I just had to.”
“I know, Kitten. It’s alright, but next time, remember: you’ll only come when I tell you to.”
“Yes, sir. I promise.”
“Good,” I continue, leaning back against my couch as I close my eyes and take a deep breath, endorphins still raging through me like a fucking hurricane. “Are you this obedient with everyone?”
“No… Not at all, sir,” she says, sounding genuine but still breathing hard.
“Not with anyone?” I hear some slight hesitation, so I press harder. “Tell me.”
“Just… Just one man,” she finally confesses, her voice wavering almost as if she’s afraid her response will earn her a scolding.
“That… friend of yours you told me about?” I ask her, suddenly feeling morbidly curious about what she’s going to tell this Henry character of my relationship with her. Is she going to lie?
“Yes… Yes, he’s the one.”
“And does he make you come, Kitten? Does he fuck you like you want me to fuck you?” I ask, feeling slightly anxious as I wait for her response. Christ, what the fuck am I doing?
“Yes, sir… He does. He does fuck me like that.”
“Good… A girl like you needs a good fucking. Tell me, when was the last time he fucked you? Tell me about it.”
“Last night,” she replies, her voice now more steady. “We fucked outside, in a tiny alley near Freedom Tower. I came three times,” she continues, and I can almost hear the anxiety in her words as she waits for my response.
“Now, a nice girl like you fucking in a public place? I like that wild side of yours, Kitten, I really do. And what better place to unleash that wild side but there? The place has gotten a lot nicer without so much construction.”
There’s a long silence on the other side of the line, almost as if I had said something indecent. I almost ask her if she’s still there when she starts to speak again.
“I’m glad, sir. I don’t want to displease you,” she tells me, and I can feel her honesty. She really wants to please Henry. Holy fuck, is this situation getting out of control?
“And what about your friend? Do you want to please him as well?” I continue, unable to stop.
“I… I’m sorry, sir, I really got to go,” she says, cutting the conversation short.
“We’ll talk again. Soon,” I promise her, and I can almost see the smile on her face.
“I hope so, sir,” she tells me before hanging up. When I take the phone out of my ear, there’s already a text message from Ashley flashing on the screen.
“I’m coming over,” it says.
Of course.
37
Ashley
Here I am again, riding the elevator to Arsen’s apartment once more. Why do all my phone calls with King Henry end up like this? I can’t help but text Arsen, anxious to have someone quench my thirst for a real man. Arsen and Henry… These two really are tying my mind into knots.
With Arsen, everything’s perfect—from the way he treats me to the way he fucks me, there’s nothing that I can point at. So why am I not surrendering to him like I damn know I should? He’s the perfect man, for God’s sake—hot, wealthier than God, and totally into me! First, I resisted his advances because I knew he was not only a smut lord’s heir, but my boss… But that’s not the real reason behind my reluctance toward taking the final step, the step into his arms. No, on that point I can only lay the blame at King Henry's feet, Client 5.
I know, I know… You probably think that I’m being silly. Torn between two men when I haven’t even met one of them. I never saw his face, and I don’t know a damn thing about him—and still, there’s something about the way he speaks to me that draws me in, almost as if he’s pulling me into a deep trance from which there’s no escape. I swear to God, just knowing that he’s going to call me is enough to make me wet. And every single minute that I spend talking with him on the phone… Sweet Jesus, I should be the one paying, not him. All of our conversations end with me soaking wet, trying to recover from another mind numbing orgasm his words have unleashed upon me. I know it sounds crazy, but what do you want me to tell you? It’s the truth. And that’s the reason I’m here now, at One57 because there’s only one man capable of turning into reality the fantasies King Henry whispers into my ear. And that man is, drumroll, Arsen Hawke. I know, no surprise there.
As the elevator opens with a gentle ding, I step into the hallway, walking steadily toward Arsen’s front door. I’m still a few feet away from it when it swings back on its hinges, Arsen standing behind it with a grin on his face. My heart immediately feels tight inside my chest, my pussy already wet—yes, I’m this desperate to feel his body on mine, I’m not ashamed to admit it.
“Ashley,” he greets me, stepping back so that I can enter his apartment. He closes the door behind me as I turn to face him, a smile on my face.
“Arsen,” I say, taking one step toward him. We’re close now, just a few inches between our bodies. None of us move though, we just stand still, enjoy the way the air around us seems to grow heavier. We are looking into each other’s eyes, sparks of electricity flying across the distance that separates us.
God, I might not be able to stop thinking about King Henry, but whenever I’m this close to Arsen… Everything else just fades away. I don’t even know if it’s because he’s the best man I have ever met, or because he fucks me like a God. Either way, he just makes me melt like butter on a scorching hot day.
“I’m glad you texted me,” he starts, cutting through the silence. “I spent all morning thinking of you… And thinking of last night. I can’t wait to get you out of those clothes.”
A shiver goes through me as I imagine him, alone in his huge luxurious apartment, thinking of me and getting hard. Has he ever masturbated while thinking of me? And the panties he stole from me last night… Has he already given them any use? Just thinking of that makes me even wetter, if that’s even possible. The memories of what happened near Freedom Tower race through my mind and I bite my lower lip, wanting an encore. But then, something that King Henry said to me crosses my mind; it’s weird, but both Henry and Arsen have talked about the very same thing, and using the exact same wording… While talking about the area around Freedom Tower, the two of them mentioned it looks a lot nicer without the construction. I know, it’s probably just a stupid coincidence, but I have to wonder…
“Have you ever called one of your phone operators? From the sex line?” I find myself saying, still unsure if I should even be mentioning this. I don’t want him to think I’m some kind of psycho.
“What? Why would I?” He asks, taking a step back and raising one eyebrow at me.
“I don’t know. Maybe you wanted to see if they were doing their job…” I say, feeling more and more unsure of what I’m saying. Christ, why did I even bring this up? I’m feeling more foolish by the second. He bridges the distance between the two of us, his hands on my waist as he grins at me.
“Why in the hell are you even asking these questions, Ash?” He’s right, you know? Why am I grilling him like this? They said the same thing, but that was just a stupid coincidence, right? Right?
“I… I don’t know,” I reply, sighing and looking up into his eyes. “It was just something silly, it doesn’t matter. What matters,” I continue, placing my hand against his chest, “is that I’m here right now.”
“Oh, yes, you are. And I’m going to make sure that coming here was the best decision you made today,” he grins at me, pulling me in and pressing his mouth against mine. I close my eyes, reacting by instinct and surrendering to his kiss, his tongue sliding inside my mouth and dancing around mine in soft circles. His hands go from my waist to my ass and, grabbing it harshly, he squeezes both my cheeks in such a way that I pull back from his kiss, sighing heavily. We’re just kissing, and I already want him inside of me, his thick cock pulsing against my insides. Why do I become such a wet mess whenever our bodies are pressed together?
“No,” he simply says, pulling back from me and taking one step back, his eyes never leaving mine. “This time, you’ll do what I tell you to, when I tell you to.” I’m taken aback by his words, boiling blood raging through my veins, but I manage to nod at him. I almost say “yes, sir,” but I caught myself before I did it. “You’ll obey, and you’ll only come when I tell you to come. Understood?” I shiver, King Henry's whispers of dominance during our calls turning something very, very real right in front of my eyes.
“Yes, Arsen,” I tell him, my heart starting to gallop. His grins turns wider and, the moment he speaks, my heart almost jumps right out of my chest.
“No, don’t call me Arsen. You’ll call me… sir.”
“Yes, sir,” I say, the words tumbling out of my lips easily. I lick my lips, suddenly feeling dizzy. Am I really talking with him as I talk to Henry? What’s going on here? And why am I getting wetter and wetter?
“Good,” he continues, that maddening smirk on his lips. I have to fight hard against the urge to just walk toward him and rip his clothes out of his body, push him into the ground and ease myself on his huge cock. But, only God knows how, I manage to restrain myself.
Turning his back to me, Arsen walks across the living room and sits on his couch, crossing his legs and leaning back as his eyes wander up and down my body, mentally peeling off my skirt and blouse.
“Come closer,” he tells me, my feet immediately carrying me toward him until he tells me to stop. “Good. Now, take your blouse off.”
My fingers dart to the hem of my blouse and I pull it out over my head, throwing it somewhere on the floor. I want to keep going, to unfasten my bra and let him see my breasts and hard nipples… But, obedient, I wait for his commands. I know—what the hell happened to me? I’ve never been one to care about the whole bedroom dominance thing… But since Arsen and King Henry entered my life, I can’t help but crave it. And to think that I was used to being the dominant one, in and out of the bedroom!
