The Choices We Make

"You have great nipples, Carol," Joe said, his voice getting quieter and sexier as they went. "Roll them between your fingers."

He waited, and then asked, "Do you feel it? Do you feel it clear down in your pussy, Carol?"

"Yes," she sighed.

"I'm so hard just thinking about you on the bed in your robe. I wish you could see what you do to me, Carol."

She wished it, too, but didn't want to tell him so. She was content massaging her breasts and feeling her pussy get wetter and wetter.

"I want you to move a hand between your legs now," he told her. "Will you do that for me?"

She gave her answer with a barely audible hum of approval. Carol's hand slid onto her pussy and straight for the moisture collected around her cunt. Once a finger or two were sufficiently damp, she moved them up to her clit.

"Rub yourself," Joe said. "Rub your clit and think about how nice it would be if I could put this hard cock inside you."

Carol had never had phone sex with anybody and was beginning to wonder why she hadn't. The mental images she conjured up of Joe and the perfect pressure of her fingers on her clit combined to excite her immensely. And it was all safe and within her self-imposed sexual restrictions.

Joe slowed his own masturbation, realizing that Carol was following his orders and that he was getting closer and closer to coming because of it.

"Does it make you horny, Carol?" he asked.

"Yes," she whispered. "Very much."

"Good. Put your fingers inside your cunt."

She obeyed. Joe heard her moan as the opening widened around two fingers.

"Are you wet?"

"Yes."

"Pretend it's my cock inside your cunt, Carol. Pretend I'm fucking you and you need to cum a little more all the time."

He heard her erratic breathing for the first time. Little moans and whimpers escaped from her as she increased the speed and pressure.

"That's it, Carol. God, I'm so hard. I need to cum so bad."

"Me, too."

"Rub your clit harder. It's my tongue pressing down on you and my lips wrapping around your swollen clit, sucking on it and licking it faster and faster."

Carol's hand switched back and forth from her clit to her cunt, frantically bringing her towards an orgasm. She arched her back and raised her ass off the bed in response.

"That's it. A drop of cum just dripped on my hand, Carol. I want us to cum together. OK?"

"Yes. Yes," she muttered.

Her eyes were closed. She pictured his thick cock, oozing cum as he stroked it. She wanted to lick him; suck on him; make him cum in her mouth.

"Ohhhhh fuck, Joe. I'm...I'm...going to cum!"

"Yes, Carol! Now! Cum now!"

He only heard her cries of pleasure in reply. Joe listened to her gasp as each orgasmic wave flowed through her body. He tried to visualize her hand methodically working over her clit, while her tits rolled on her chest during her climaxes.

Then it was his turn. Carol heard Joe's initial grunt, followed by a series of deep moans as shot after shot of cum landed on his stomach. Carol pulled up her knees and finished masturbating while grinning at the mess Joe was obviously making in his own bed.

Thirty seconds of relative silence followed as Joe and Carol recovered.

"God, that was great. Thank you, Carol."

She wanted to answer but couldn't find the right words. Joe heard a click, and then a dial tone.

###

Carol never saw Joe the entire next day. She knew he had another presentation to make, so he wasn't gone. She had mixed feelings about seeing him so soon after the night before. Carol certainly wasn't mad at him, but it would be more than awkward having to deal with him face to face. What would she say? 'Thank you' seemed somewhat inadequate.

Carol also tried to determine the true value of having phone sex with somebody versus a bar pickup and romp. She had met her goal for the day of not doing the bar thing. Yes, she came as long and hard as she had cum in a long, long time. But was it enough? Was she happy?

The day was full of temptations. Session after session presented rooms full of guys she would have loved to take to her bed, if in fact they made it past her wall. By dinner time, she was horny and scolding herself for allowing it to happen.

When Carol opened the door to her room, a slip of paper on the floor caught her attention. She picked up the folded note.

'Carol, I didn't leave a voicemail because I figured you'd never listen to it after last night. I enjoyed 'talking' to you. If you feel so inclined, I'd love to have you visit me. Room 6012. Joe.'

Carol's heart raced as she crumpled up the note and tossed it into the waste basket.

"Fuck," she sighed. She sat on the end of the bed and looked down at the floor. "Damn it!"

###

Joe barely heard the light rap on the door over the sound of the TV. He used the remote to shut it off while walking to the door. He smiled as he peered through the security hole and turned the handle.

"Hello, Carol. Come on in."

She entered the room, feeling an extra rush of adrenaline at the sight of Joe in his hotel-issue, white robe. He closed the door.

"It's great to see you again. Was it a good day at the conference?" he asked.

"Yes. Where were you?"

"I kind of took the day off. Saw the sights. Had a good meal," he said, brushing past her into the room. "Have a seat. I'm afraid I don't have anything to offer you to drink."

Carol took the nearest chair. "That's OK. I'm fine."

Joe took a second to inspect her outfit more closely—a sleeveless blouse and designer jeans. She sat with her legs crossed and more than a hint of her cleavage visible inside the shirt. He carefully held the robe closed when he sat on the couch.

"I hope I didn't offend you last night," he said.

"You didn't. I could have hung up any time I wanted," she replied with a look of authority. "It was...fun."

Joe smiled. "It was messy. Thank God for large bath towels."

Carol couldn't keep from giggling. "A LARGE bath towel? Really?"

"Yep. You were that good."

"I almost came myself," she said with a straight face.

"Bullshit. I heard it all," he said.

Her face flushed as she looked around the room to avoid eye contact. "So, when's your next presentation."

"Tomorrow. Same theme. Different approach."

"Does it ever get boring?" Carol asked.

Joe shrugged. "Sometimes. The people I meet make it worthwhile."

Carol looked at him. "And the ones you call?"

"I don't call many." After a pause, he added, "You were the first."

A look of disbelief crossed her face. "I doubt that."

"No. Really. You're special."

"How?"

He gazed at her, deep in thought. "I told you last night. You make me hard, in so many ways. Looking at you; talking to you; thinking about you. It doesn't matter."

Her eyes dropped to his lap, and then back up. She said, "Did you think I would come here tonight?"

"I hoped."

"And what if I hadn't?"

"I would have masturbated to an image of you."

Carol found herself having to consciously control her breathing to hide her excitement. She was losing control. Did she have the nerve, the will-power, to just leave him?

She nervously switched the position of her legs. "What image?"

"You in a sheer blouse and jeans. Standing in front of me, slowly unbuttoning the blouse."

"And you'd be hard?"

Joe stood up. She watched him untie the robe and leisurely let it fall open. Then he pulled it off and stood naked, a nearly full erection jutting out from between his legs.

Carol stared, licking her lips reflexively.

Joe watched her stand, hoping desperately she would not leave him. A strange look came over her face that he could not decipher, and then Carol began to unbutton her blouse.