Bedtime Story Ch. 01

Chapter 1: The Scenario

He was away on business, half a continent from her, missing her and feeling, daily, the build up of desire that seemed to intensify in him in direct proportion to the impossibility of fulfillment. He really had no interest in pursuing sexual adventures in this strange city and there was certainly plenty of work to keep him busy if he wanted to force his mind from his body and his mental images of hers. But, to tell the truth, a part of him actually enjoyed the frustration, the postponement. The trouble was, he was craving stimulation to keep the edge up, to incite the horniness, not ways to sublimate it. His imagination, usually a pretty reliable stimulant, was running a bit dry and he was worried about being seen by colleagues if he rented an X rated video in town to watch in the hotel. He was even reluctant to use the pay service through the hotel cable in case the company saw an itemized bill and questioned him. A little paranoid, he thought, but better safe than sorry. He had called her on the phone, of course, and they had managed to make each other pretty horny, but she was afraid of getting too explicit over the wires and there was the question of cost. Then he remembered that she was "on-line" at work and he could use the hook-up right in the hotel room to send her E-mail. The two hour time difference would allow him to communicate with her at work while he was already finished for the afternoon back east. E-mail had the added attraction of pretty safe anonymity. They could use code names and send to each other's private mail boxes on the Net. He got himself excited just thinking of the possibilities.

As soon as he finished work the next day, he went to the room and hooked into the hotel's system with his lap-top. The on-line time could easily be explained away as business. He sent a simple message to begin with: "I'm feeling lonely in Chicago. How about using this wonderful toy to play some adult games? Would you like me to tell you a story, write you a scenario?" He gave his usual Net address but added the new "handle" - Wired. He shut down and waited. The trouble was, he couldn't be sure when she might check her mail. He thought about calling her on the phone and telling her to get on-line, but that would ruin the surprise and the anticipation was really building now. He just hoped it wouldn't be too long.

He waited until after dinner to check his own E-mail, but there was still nothing. He even checked one more time at about ten o'clock. Still nothing. Figuring that she had been home from work for at least a couple of hours by then, he decided to just make his usual phone call home to say goodnight and wait until tomorrow for her to discover his new game. She wasn't home when he called, but she had left a message on the machine telling him she would be working late and to call about eleven, his time. He let the wave of fear and jealousy pass over him and then settled into the realization that he could trust her. An hour later, he called back and she was there. They talked for several minutes on the phone, told each other how much they missed each other, then she said something that piqued his interest.

"Goodnight," she said and paused. Then, her voice more husky, a sexy whisper he could only just hear over the phone, she added, "Don't be too lonely in Chicago." Then she hung up. He felt his heart race. Despite the late hour, he rushed to hook up the computer. When he opened up his E-mail box, he understood why she had been "working late." Her message started out:

"Dear L. in Chi. No, don't tell me a story. I can't wait that long to start our game. I've closed the door to my office and told them to hold all calls. Now settle back while I create a little scenario for you. You might want to loosen your belt, I have a feeling you might get a little uncomfortable fully dressed. But - remember high school English class? this is the "rising action" of the story, but you've got to save the "climax" and the "falling action" for when you get home.

Then the story began to roll itself out in waves over the little screen as he watched and read and tried his damndest not to go over the edge. This is what he read:

Once upon a time there was a man who took his sex life for granted. Every Saturday night, his wife would take a shower, then he would take a shower, join her in the bedroom, and they would have a nice little roll in the hay. But this time, he was in for a surprise. He finished his shower and went to the bedroom, but she wasn't there. He called to her and she told him to come into the living room. Her voice sounded different to him somehow. When he walked into the room, she was on the couch, legs apart, wearing only a large t-shirt over her full, round figure. Her eyes held his while her fingers played over the outline of her sex, languorously rolling her hips with the movement of her hand. He stopped in the doorway and let out his breath. The damp towel around his waist stirred from the growing pressure beneath it.

"They say men are visual animals. They like to watch," she said. Lifting one knee high, she slid the tip of her finger into herself, bringing her other hand down to rub in slow circles against the root of her clitoris. He started towards her but she stopped him with her harsh voice, "But not too close," she said. He stopped several steps from the couch. She moaned softly, spreading her lips for him to see the open wetness of her. She raised two fingers to her mouth, sucked them with a noise that made him stir beneath the towel, licked along their length slowly, wetly, then returned them to her crotch where she slowly pushed them both inside her to the last knuckle. She pushed the heel of her hand against her pussy and squeezed hard, jerking the fingers back and forth in her cunt, rubbing the palm against her clit. He reached down to stroke his hardening shaft through the towel but she made him stop. Rolling up to her knees, her face only a foot from his waist, she gave him a soft but insistent order, "No touching," she said. "Keep your hands off that; it's mine and I'll use it when I'm ready."

It was as if she were speaking directly to him, as though she were in the room watching him. His hand had strayed almost involuntarily to his crotch while he read. Now he had his pants open and was rubbing the stiffness of his cock along its length, pressing against his leg through the underpants. When he read her admonition, he pulled his hand away quickly, guiltily. He swallowed hard. Her total immersion in this scenario surprised and excited him. He felt lightheaded and his breath came short and quick. He turned his attention back to the screen.

He was so hard now that the rough fabric of the towel against the swollen head of his cock made him want to shout. He wanted so badly just to grab it, stroke it hard and fast. He wanted it so much that it took all his willpower to keep his hands at his side.

She was straddling the arm of the couch now, slowly rubbing her pussy against the fabric, staring at him. She reached for his face with the hand she had used to masturbate, sticking her fingers right under his nose, rubbing them there. "Smell nice?" she asked him. "Wouldn't you love to taste my pussy?" He groaned a bit and his hand started towards his prick but he remembered her admonition and clenched his fists instead.

She suddenly reached a hand towards him and grabbed roughly at the shaft. The towel fell from his waist but she kept his hardness wrapped in it as she pulled him towards her by the cock. "Is this what you want?" she asked and rubbed the full length of him with her fist and the rough towel. She pumped it fast and furious, looking into his eyes, enjoying his mounting excitement and her total control of its trajectory. He arched his back and made a noise that told her he couldn't take much more without exploding, so she stopped as suddenly as she had begun. "No, no," she sang, "Much too soon for that. Lie on the couch."

She got up and pushed him down so he was sprawled spread-eagle, the full length of the couch, his cock straight up in the air. The towel fell to the floor and she stripped off the t-shirt, showing him erect nipples on her full, round breasts. Then she straddled his head and reached under the cushion, bringing out a ten inch dildo, hard rubber shaped perfectly like a thick cock, complete with fleshy head and bulging veins. "Mmm, this is so big, so fat and hard," she said, still standing over him, "So much bigger than yours," and she wrapped her lips around the head, sucking loudly as she released it. Then she ran her tongue up and down its length, making it glisten with her saliva.

His own cock had grown enough to escape his jockey shorts, the head pushing past the elastic of the leg opening, the fabric tightening around the ridge under the head, making him crazy. He couldn't help reaching down to grab the shaft, but the next part of her story made him stop, wondering again how she could be in such close connection to his thoughts and actions:

He couldn't stop himself from reaching around her to grab his own cock. As he wrapped his hand around the shaft, he felt its heat, felt it jump against the pressure of his palm - but she leaned back, slapped at his wrist and yanked his hand away. Propping herself on her knees, her pussy near enough now for him to smell, she pinned his arms over his head. "Put these here and keep them here," she said.

"Now, because you were bad," she whispered, eyes flashing, nostrils flared with the excitement of the game, "Because you were so-o-o-o bad, you can suck on this and get it nice and wet for me." She brought the dildo up in front of him. Holding the butt end of it against the thick hair of her venus mound, she thrust her hips forward, pushing the fleshy head of the dildo against his face. She reached down and aimed it against his slightly open lips then, one hand wrapped around the end against her crotch, the other hand behind his head, pushing it upward, she thrust the dildo into his mouth. "Suck it!" she ordered. "Suck my cock." At least five inches of the thick rubber slid rhythmically in and out of his mouth, stretching his lips, rubbing against his tongue, scraping the inside of his cheeks. Breathing through his nose, his saliva dripping down his chin, he was filled with the mixed aromas of the pungent latex and the sweet suggestion of her pussy.

When she felt he had had enough, she pulled the dildo out of his mouth and raised herself to a squatting position over his face, turning so that she could see his cock just starting to soften a bit. She reached down and, with one hand, stretched the skin to the base, grasping it tightly. She licked the palm and fingers of her other hand then pumped it rapidly up and down the tightened prick a half-dozen times. Releasing her grip at the base, she moved the loosened skin on the shaft slowly and softly, caressing it into a straining hardness, then tightened her grip and jerked him off fast and hard right to the very edge of control. When she heard him audibly catch his breath she stopped stroking, squeezed the base tightly and slapped his rigid pole several times to hold him just this side of coming. "There," she said, "That's where I want you."