The Call

It was late, past 10pm and here I was still at my desk. The office empty, even the cleaners had been and gone.

Staring at the last words on the computer screen with relief, the first draft was ready for the early morning meeting tomorrow. As much as I loved my job, there were times, especially after a day like today when I seriously considered changing careers. I'd be home later than I'd promised, yet again. I could see his face in my minds eye, that set to his lips, hearing his clipped tones as he asked if I'd actually be home on time tomorrow. It hadn't been easy of late, not since I'd taken on more responsibility at work.

Stretching in my chair, reaching up to massage the back of my neck with cool, long fingers. Breasts straining against the buttons of my pale blue shirt. I almost jumped when the phone rang. That would be him, checking to see if I was still at my desk. The temptation to ignore it was overwhelming, but instinctively my hand reached for it, a sigh echoing in the mouthpiece as I lifted it to my lips.

"You're working late."

"I'm just leaving now, I'll be home soon." The words out before I realised that it wasn't his voice I was hearing. This voice was deeper, it felt like there was a smile in the words. Struggling to place it, no one sprang to mind, I was certain I hadn't heard it before. I would have remembered, the richness of it making my nipples harden, pushing against the satin fabric of my bra.

"I think you have the wrong number," I murmured.

"I have the right number," he said, that smile still hovering around his words.

Silence stretching between us as I found myself unable to return the handset to its cradle, to end this odd conversation. I'm overwhelmed with curiosity, to know what he wants, to hear more of that rich, warm voice, and feel my body responding to it.

"Loosen your hair." It's not a request, not quite a command.

Lifting my hand to the pin securing my hair, unbidden by conscious thought. Silken strands tumbling around my shoulders. He'd known that my hair was pinned up, he must have seen me today, so he must be somewhere in the building, must work here too. Biting into my full lower lip as I tried to think of anyone new I'd encountered during the course of the day. My mind came up blank. Maybe he'd made a lucky guess. Holding my breath as I waited for his next words.

"Unbutton your shirt."

I know I gasped at this, I didn't hear my vocal response, but felt the air rush between my now parted lips, felt it catch in my throat. Where was he, who was he? Fingers hovering over the small buttons holding the cotton covering my upper body. He must have sensed my hesitation, his words repeated in my ear, the tone of his voice lower, more commanding.

The first button popping open revealing the creamy curves of my breasts, the next the pale satin of my bra. Open to the waist, my breasts heaving with every shallow breath, nipples hard and aching, straining against the silken fabric. Pushing the satin over my breast, dark pink nipple exposed, twisting it between my fingertips. I hear a moan, unsure if it came from my mystery caller or sprang from my own lips.

"Stand up and pull your skirt up to your waist."

No pause this time, wanting to, needing to comply. The heat between my thighs, no thought of anything other than how arousing this was. He must have heard my movements, knew I was doing as I was told. I couldn't visualise how he could possibly see me. The dark wool bunching around my waist, leaving my legs, encased in hold-ups and the soft fabric of my thong, clinging to moist pussy lips exposed. My skin pale in the overhead lights. So sure that I heard a moan from the other end of the phone this time, straining to hear his next words.

"Take off your panties." His voice sounding hoarser this time.

Easing the thong over my hips and down my thighs, letting it pool at my feet before stepping out of it. Smooth, silken mound begging for my touch. Desperately wanting to stroke my fingertips across the soft skin, to part my pussy lips and dip my fingers into the slick heat within.

"Turn to face the window, put your foot on the chair and slide your fingers into your pussy. I know how wet you are."

A small shudder passing through my body. Facing the window I can see my reflection. Hair tousled, face flushed, foot braced on the chair, my hand drifting along my thigh, stroking my pussy lips, fingers pushing inside my aching flesh. Groaning at how good this feels. My pussy gripping my fingers, clinging to them as they start thrusting in and out, the pad of my thumb rubbing over my swollen clit.

His words whispering in my ear, "Yes baby, cum for me."

My breathing ragged as I fingerfuck my tight cunt, feeling the intense tugging sensation low in my belly. Moaning now, each thrust of my fingers, the pressure on my clit bringing me closer and closer. My head falling back, neck arching, driving my fingers hard into my aching, slippery flesh. Pussy spasming around those invading fingers, my thighs trembling, body shuddering as I cum all over my hand. Collapsing into my chair, hair falling over my face, my body flushed with pleasure. His groans audible.

"I'll be looking for you again," and with those words he was gone and I was left wondering one thing..................when?