Hello, Burnadette

Author's Note:

-This story is based in truth. There is a real Burnadette, and we did have a lot of phone sex, but unlike the experience of being with KaSandra (from "Online with KaSandra") Burnadette and I never got to meet as we do in this short story. It's part truth (the phone sex) and part wishful thinking (actually meeting). Cheers!

***

I was 23 when I bought my first computer, and I really hadn't had any other ideas beyond using it to help further my career. It was a top-of-the-line model (at least for the hour or two prior to a better, more powerful version being created and thus making mine obsolete) and had all the bells and whistles. On impulse, I paid extra for a web cam and figured if nothing else, I could always record myself making funny faces as a gag for family. I set it up in my home office, which at that time doubled as my bedroom, and began exploring cyberspace.

The first thing I noticed more than anything was the blatant sexuality of the Internet. I found websites for every kind of fetish, ranging from the deeply tempting (cum shots and interracial sex) to the bizarre (animals and feces). I had initially gone online looking for information about flatbed scanners and wound up digging through site after site of pornography. The sheer volume of it on the Internet is staggering, and I soon realized I had hit an addiction. My collecting of pictures and movies was a regular evening activity, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

But when I started chatting, that's when things really changed. I had become bored with my treasure hunt for pictures, and like any addict, needed a bigger and better fix. The world of chat rooms was a secret place, governed by a different set of rules and morals. It was a place where one could literally leave themselves behind and adopt an entirely new identity, completely freeing up any hidden lusts and passions. Inhibition was the edict of the people who talked there, brutal and frank conversations about everything from the mundane to the highly sexual to the perverted. The temptations it offered just by the virtue of anonymity were endless, and the addictive nature was even more powerful than anything I had previously seen.

I bypassed the general chat areas and logged in directly to the adult chat rooms, knowing full well that I wasn't here to discuss television or true romance. I started talking with several women in a room called "Show Me Your Cock," and spent the next four hours flirting and making myself so horny I was ready to cream my pants. It struck me that most of these women were lonely housewives or probably women fed up with their everyday lives, chained to husbands and boyfriends that they really couldn't stand anymore. So my conversations with them were explicit and heavy with a mutual sexual need.

I turned on my cam and took some pictures of myself for my profile, as all of the women I had talked to wanted to see what I looked like. I took some shots of my face, which isn't bad but not the mug of a G.Q. model either. I had made sure to trim my goatee and make sure my head was shaved down clean (I shaved my head bald at this point of my life, a look I really enjoyed having, but later on I got tired of all the 'Nazi' comments...) and then put on my best smile. I decided to be bold, and stripped down naked for some nudes to prove the statistics I was giving people were correct. I'm in good shape, I work out a lot so I have a fairly muscular body on a stocky, 5' 11" frame. I suppose I did look like Mr. Clean or a Neo-Nazi, but the response I got was incredible.

The boost to my ego was something I had never experienced before, and I was awestruck. But I got the most responses back on the pictures I had taken of my cock. Most of the women (and some adventurous men) had good things to say, and while I wasn't a foot-long or a tree trunk, I was respectable seven and a half with a really swollen, large head. My shaft is thick enough to where my index finger and thumb have a hard time meeting together when I hold it, and the veins on it are very pronounced. By the end of the week, I had received 134 offline messages about my pictures.

One of them was from a woman with the screen name Vanillabunbun, and for some reason her messages always stuck out in the group. One day, I returned home from work to find an offline message from her that simply read:

"I could spoil you."

It struck a chord with me, its simplicity far more alluring than the more straightforward ones like, "God, I could suck that off good for you" or "Mind if I take a ride?"

I checked her profile and discovered that her real name was Burnadette; she lived in South Carolina and was separated from her husband. Her picture was a good one, her short black hair shining in the flare of the camera. Her mocha skin was a stark contrast to the white wall behind her. The picture ended just above her bust line, but from the tension pulls in her t-shirt, I knew it was a safe bet she had a tremendous set of tits. Her lips were full and even in the picture, looked moist and inviting. Her eyes were dark and intelligent, her moderate age of 38 hardly visible in her youthful face. She also left her phone number, and after a few minutes of deliberation, I called her.

"Hello?" came a sexy voice.

"Hi," I said, sitting down on my bed, "You left me an offline message?"

"Oh, hello," she said, "You're the Bluefox07 guy?"

"Yep," I said, "How are you?"

"I'm fine," she said. I could hear her smile over the phone, "I loved your pictures."

"Oh, thank you," I said, "It's a new hobby of mine."

"Well, I think you're doing good with it."

"Flattery will get you everywhere with me," I flirted, trying to be smooth, suggestive and bold. If Burnadette thought I was being too heavy-handed, she never said so.

"Maybe we should introduce ourselves?" she asked.

"Sure," I sat down on my couch and laid back. "My name is Daniel."

"Burnadette," she said.

"Sexy name," I commented. "I saw your picture. Very nice."

"Have a thing for dark meat?"

"Always," I replied. My cock was beginning to stir as we talked, aroused by the anticipation of what might follow in our conversation. I adjusted my shorts to allow for a little more room and said, "So, tell me a little about yourself."

"What would you like to know?" she countered. God, her voice sounded sexy.

"Uhm, let's start with the basics," I offered, "Hobbies stuff like that-"

"You want to fuck?"

"Yes," I immediately blurted out.

"Good," she laughed, "Because I've been thinking about you ever since I saw your pictures, and I really want to fuck you."

"Will a good phone fucking do for tonight?" I smiled, "After all, you do live in South Carolina."

"For tonight," she agreed.

"So how big is your cock, exactly?" she asked casually, yet betraying a hint of lusty impatience.

"Seven and a half," I answered, my cock swelling and growing harder by the minute.

"That's a good size," she told me, "Not too big, and not too small."

"Thank you."

"In the pictures, it looked like you were getting close to an orgasm," Burnadette observed as my heart began pounding, "Your head looked really swollen."

"I wanted to present the best possible size and look," I shrugged.

"You did, baby," she replied, "You did. You have a nice, big head. It's so full and round. And you shaft is so thick... God, look at those veins on there..."

"Are you looking at the pictures right now?"

"Yes," she replied, "And more."

I paused, my mouth dry. "Like what?"

"I have two fingers in my pussy..."

"Wow," I said dumbly, "So I really get you going?"

"Mmm hmmm," she purred into the phone, sending a wonderful chill down my spine, "Your chest is so sexy... and your arms are to die for."

"Either you're a good liar," I laughed, "Or I just struck gold."

"I think you're rich man," Burnadette said plainly, "Does it turn you on, knowing that I love how you look?"

"Yes, very much so," I said.

"Does it turn you on to think about me fingering myself here while I look at pictures of you?"

"Hell yes."

"Are you feeling hard, Daniel?"

"Very hard."

"Stroke your cock for me, Daniel..."

I pulled my shorts and underwear down, kicking them off onto the floor with one foot. My cock was throbbing, fully erect and ready. I grasped my shaft gently by the base and began stroking up and down. For some reason, her voice in my ear electrified my senses and made each stroke a hundred more times powerful than it should have been. I placed the phone in the crook of my neck and massaged my balls.

"Does that feel good, baby?"

"Yes," I said, slowly stroking myself.

"You know what I would do if I were there?"

"What would you do?"

"Well," Burnadette began, "I would take off the white blouse I am wearing right now in front of you. I'd do it real slow, like a strip tease. I'd undo the buttons and show you my tits, letting the fabric of my blouse fall away little by little. My tits are so big, Daniel. They're so soft and silky. Would like to hold them?"

"Yes," I felt a blush, hot and undeniable burn on my face as I pictured what she was talking about.

"Would you like to suck on my nipples?"

"Yes," I moaned a little, a small jolt arching through the length of my cock. I could feel precum oozing from my tip as I stroked myself faster. She was a complete stranger, and here we were five minutes after saying hello and already having phone sex.

"Say it, Daniel. Say you want to suck on my tits..."

"Burnadette, I want to suck on your tits," I said with a horny conviction.

"You want to fuck my tits, Daniel?"

"I want to fuck your tits so bad, Burnadette..."

"I love it when you say my name," she cooed into the phone. I could tell she was fingering herself faster, her voice getting more and more breathless.

"Oh God Burnadette," I whispered into the phone, my hand now rapidly working my cock. I leaned back on the couch, my body tensing from the pleasure.

"Would you like to cum all over my face?" she asked, "All over my tits and neck?"

"Yes," I managed.

"Would you?"

"Yes," I repeated, engrossed in the idea.

"Then do it baby, come and fuck me," she demanded, "Fuck my tits, fuck my mouth, fuck my pussy..."

"Fuck yeah," I moaned, feeling a familiar pressure building inside me.

"Let me suck on your cock, Daniel," she moaned into the phone, "Say you want me to..."

"I want you to suck my cock, Burnadette," I groaned, "Suck it for me."

"Yes," she breathed, "Tell me how bad you want it..."

"I want it so bad," I huffed, trying to think straight, "I'd do anything."

"Anything at all?"

"Anything!" my orgasm was almost ready to be released.

"I want your cum," she whimpered, close to her own orgasm, "I want it now..."

"You're going to make me cum, Burnadette..."

"Do it for me baby," she encouraged, "Do it please..."

I growled and bit down as my orgasm exploded from the tip of my swollen, purple head. Hot semen spattered out in thick, sticky white globs over my left cheek and forehead. It spurted onto my chest and my stomach as I cried out, caught up in the power of it all. My head was spinning as I tried to recover, breathing heavily into the phone. I could feel the warm, wet gobs of cum sliding down my face slowly as my vision returned.

"That sounded so fucking good," she said, "God, I wish I was there to clean you up."

"I managed to get my face," I laughed weakly, "Thankfully my mouth was closed."

"No shit?" she giggled, "But we're not through yet."

"No, we're not," I agreed.

"My pussy is so wet," she told me, "I'm soaking my chair doing this."

"That means you're really ready..."

"It's been so long since I've been with anyone," she confided in me, "I haven't had sex since my husband and I divorced."

"He doesn't know what he's missing out on," I said, knowing she was most likely fibbing to me. I didn't mind though.

"Oh yes he does" Burnadette laughed, "And that's part of the reason why I can't get him to go away..."

"Is he an asshole?"

"Uh huh," she replied, her words accented with disgust.

"Well," I said, reaching for my box of tissues, "He's nowhere near us right now..."

"That's right," she said, "And I'm all by myself on this big bed, naked with my fingers sliding in and out of my pussy talking to you."

"I can picture that," I smiled as I cleaned myself off. The tissues quickly soaked up my thick cum as I talked, "I can imagine going down on you."

"Would you?" she asked, "Would you do that?"

"Yes I would."

"How would you do it?"

I tossed the last cum-soaked tissue to the floor. "I'd start by doing it right."

"Oh?"

"I would start by sucking on your tits," I explained, leaning back against the cushions, "I'd want you to build up to the moment. I'd cup your breasts in my hands and suckle on your nipples for a while. I'd tease them and nibble on them, lick up and down and around the sides of your breasts. And then, I'd start working my way down your body. I'd drag my tongue between your tits and leave a wet trail to your navel. I'd plant hot little kisses all over your stomach and sides, but as I moved lower, I'd start leaving really hot, wet French kisses..."

"That sounds so good," she breathed into the phone. I could tell she was fingering herself for me again.

"I'd kiss down to the inside of your thigh and start working my way down your leg slowly, kissing your knee, your calve and then your toes. I'd come back up just as slowly and as I did this, I'd spread your legs open as wide as they can go without hurting you. I'd run my hands over your body, up over your tits and then back down over legs."

"I would love to have you do that to me," she purred.

"And then I'd start giving you slow, long licks over your lips. I would just lap at you down there, rubbing your cunt with my tongue and letting my hands explore your body. God, I can just imagine what you taste like. I'll bet you're sweet..."

"Keep talking like this, and maybe you'll find out," Burnadette whispered.

I smiled. "Then I would start sliding my tongue in and out of you, gently exploring your pussy and licking up your juices. I'd bury my tongue into you and just devote every bit of strength I had to making you cum. I'd play with your clit after awhile, after it was ready..."

"Yes," she whimpered, her heavy breathing causing static on the phone "Yes, eat my pussy out."

"I'd nibble on your clit," I said suggestively, "I'd suckle on it and tease it, flicking it with my tongue..."

"Yes," she growled into the phone. I could hear her fingers working in and out of her pussy.

"Yes Burnadette, just like that," I whispered, "Fuck your pussy for me... imagine I'm there with you, my body between your legs and my cock in my hand..."

"Yes Daniel," she moaned, "Oh God I want you so bad..."

"Imagine me placing the head of my cock at your lips and gently pressing..."

"Oh Daniel," she whimpered, "You're going to make me cum..."

"Faster Burnadette, don't stop..."

"Oh fuck," she cried

"Faster and harder baby... don't stop... cum for me..."

I could hear beginning to lose it as she cried out and hit her orgasm. She gasped into the mouthpiece, and I tried to picture her there, naked and laying on her bed, a large wet spot soaking her sheets from where she had released.

The next few minutes were nothing but Burnadette panting and recovering from her orgasm. Either my narration had been that good or she really knew how to hit her love button. I hope it was a combination of both.

"Oh my God," she huffed, "That was fantastic."

"I do try," I laughed, "But you did all the hard work..."

"Your voice is so sexy," she said.

"Thank you," I smiled, "You have a sexy voice too."

"We are going to have so much fun," Burnadette said.

And we did.

For the next six months, we talked just about every other night. I bought a supply of phone cards and she followed suit. We would talk and phone fuck each other for hours sometimes, completely caught up in the moment and outrageously horny. On one occasion, we phone fucked while she was in a parking lot on her lunch break. Another time, we did it on my cell phone while I excused myself to the restroom at work. We couldn't stop.

Then one night, we were going at it strong. She had me worked up to my third orgasm in twenty minutes, and I was so fucking horny I couldn't see straight anymore. She had me flying. As I stroked my cock and moaned for her, I managed, "God I love this!"

"I love hearing you do it," she replied, "Stroke faster for me baby. Stroke it and imagine I was there doing it for you."

"Yes, baby," I breathed and worked my shaft faster.

"Would you like for me to stroke your cock?" she asked

"Oh yes, baby, yes."

"Would like me to suck on that fat cock of yours?"

"Yes, Burnadette, please..."

"How bad do you want it?"

"I'd do anything," I moaned, feeling the orgasm building up speed.

"Would you let me take pictures of us fucking?" she asked.

"Yes," I growled. The idea struck a chord with me, "You can take any pictures you want."

"Would you let me take pictures of you cumming?"

"Yes."

"Would you fuck me, Daniel?"

"Yes!"

"Then let me come to you and fuck you," she said.

"Please come," I begged. I actually begged. And then I came. I shouted out as my third orgasm of the night rocked through my body.

"I'm going to come fuck you, Daniel," she said evenly. "I have to have you."

"When?" I asked. I couldn't believe we were actually talking about this.

She was quiet for a moment. "One week from today."

"Seriously?"

"Yes, Daniel. Absolutely."

The next week went by slowly.

The week went by so fucking slowly.

I eventually found myself waiting on the day of her arrival, a Friday, impatiently at the airport. I had dressed in my best fitting jeans and a white t-shirt. I had shaved my crotch and made sure everything was in perfect order. I held in my hands a single red rose. I stood at the gate and waited for her.

The long line of passengers went by at a steady pace, none of them looking even remotely like Burnadette's picture. Finally, towards the end of the line I saw her. She looked exactly as I had imagined, and the photograph had done nothing but tell the truth. She wore a light blouse that barely contained her massive breasts. They swayed and jiggled under the flimsy fabric, their only restraint one of her lacy black bras. Her dark slacks complimented her full figure. She carried a duffle bag over her shoulder and pulled a suitcase on wheels behind her.

Our eyes met, and she smiled.

"Hey baby," she laughed and hugged me.

"Finally," I smiled and hugged her back. "Was your flight okay?"

"It sucked," she shrugged, "But I'm here."

"Let's go."

I took her bags and we walked out of the airport. It was extremely busy and what should have been a ten-minute walk became a twenty-minute test of patience. Her bag was heavy, and I was curious as to what she had brought with her. The whole time, I kept glancing at her full, red lips and her large breasts as we walked. Finally, we escaped into the smoggy outside of Sacramento International Airport and walked the countless rows of the labyrinthian parking lot. It had grown dark outside, and the yellow sodium lights were burning brightly.

"Where did you park?" she laughed as we continued.

"In the next county," I shook my head. "This is a really busy airport."

Finally, we reached my Firebird and I unlocked the trunk.

"Be careful with the shoulder bag," she smiled, "I have breakable stuff in there."

I cocked a curious brow. "Oh?"

She only smiled. "You'll see."

I unlocked the car. "Well, I don't live too far away from here," I said, "It won't be much longer."

"Hey," she said softly.

"Yes?" I looked up at her as I opened her door for her. She grabbed my hand and held it as she pulled me to her.