Flash Fiction: Whisper-Sigh-Moan

In honor of Alison Tyler’s Fetish Friday, I am posting my phone sex story Whisper-Sigh-Moan. Enjoy J


by T. Harrison

“My love, are you still there?”

She can’t speak. She can only moan her reply. When his voice sounds this way she can barely keep her legs together. When his voice is soft and low and deep; dipping down into that octave that he only uses to say achingly honest things; it makes her feel weak with desire. When he speaks to her in that tone…that low, sweet tone that reverberates to the core of her like some deep low drum, her body reacts. Her pussy swells and throbs. She gets hot and wet; her body is making itself ready for him.

“Where’s your hand?” he asks.

“Where I wish yours was,” she whispers as she slips her hand down the flat of her belly and between her thighs. His low, satisfied moan sends a shiver of goose bumps over her skin. Her finger glides over her hard swollen clit; just that little bit of contact makes her gasp. “And where is your hand?”

“Where I want yours to be.”

She squeezes her eyes closed and tries to see him as he is at this exact moment. She imagines his hand around his hard cock; gently stroking from stem to tip.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you,” she whispers.

“I want you to put your mouth on me,” he breathes.

She licks her lips. More than anything she wishes she could do this for him. She salivates, wondering how he must taste. She wishes he was there to receive the kiss she wants to give him. She wishes her hand was filled with his cock, quickening and coming to life in her palm. She wonders how he will smell and how his hands will feel on her body. She can only guess at these things because these are things that she does not and may not ever know about him. She only knows this voice on the phone. This mischievous dark chuckle coupled with a static picture of a quietly handsome face with dark brooding eyes. Can he really be her man if she has never really looked into those eyes? Can this late night on the phone fuck-toy become a real, tactile relationship? Was she, the timid housewife, brave enough to cross that line? And if she is not, what is she doing with him in the first place?

But these were all questions for another time. She pushes those thought into the back of her mind and concentrates on this moment; the moment when she slips her fingers into her wet pussy and draws slow circles around her clit with her thumb. She knows herself pretty well by now. A few weeks ago when he first suggested phone sex she was too shy and self conscious to follow through with it. Instead she faked it and listened him climax, her pussy growing wetter with each wave of his ecstasy. She hung up that night feeling cheated and had no one to but herself to blame. But now…now she is often the initiator and she finds herself daydreaming about having phone sex in the middle of the day when she should be submerged in her real life.

“Tell me what you see,” she whispers.

He chuckles his dark chuckle again.

“I see you…on your knees in front of me. I’ve got a fist full of your hair in my hand…and you’ve got a fist full of my cock in yours…”

“Mmm…” she intones.

“And you’re licking my cock…your mouth feels so hot.”

She imagines herself kneeling at his feet; her head tipped back, her mouth open wide as she licks up and down his shaft and then up and over the tip to take him into her mouth. He moans at exactly the right moment. A smile spreads across her lips at the thought that he may have imagined the same thing at the exact same moment as if they were somehow psychically connected.

“You like to take me deep in your mouth don’t you?”

“Yes, I love to suck your cock. I love to feel your dick in the back of my throat.”

He sighs. “What about you?” he whispers. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

A picture blooms in her mind; a vivid one. It’s so vivid because she’s imagined it so often it’s hard to believe that it’s only a figment of her imagination.

“You pull me up off of my knees. You love fucking my mouth but you’re not ready to come yet…not like that.” She licks her lips.

“Why don’t I want to come yet?”

“Because you want to taste me.”

“You know I do,” he says, his voice deep and soft.

She smiles. “I try to make it to my way to the bed,” she continues. “But you won’t let me. You shake your head and push me into one of the hotel armchairs. You look right into my eyes as you lower yourself down until you’re kneeling between my legs. You kiss me but it’s only a distraction because as you’re kissing me you’re slowly parting my thighs.”

“Why are you so afraid to let me in?”

“I’m nervous…I haven’t been with anyone in a long while.”

“I’m gonna change that,” he promises. “What do I do after I open your legs?”

“You push my skirt up around my hips and kiss my thighs.”

“Your soft, beautiful thighs.”

“Once my legs are open you place a kiss on the outside of my panties.”

“Are your panties wet?”


“What do I do then?”

“You slip them off of me very…very slowly.”

“Hmmm…”he moans.

“And then you spread my legs wide; so very wide that my knees are hooked over the armrests of the chair.”

“Cause I want to see what your pussy looks like before I taste you.”

“And how does it look?”

“Beautiful…perfect. Even more so because I know that it’s mine.”

Just the thought of him claiming her so completely with that one word makes her submerged fingers wet with fresh dew. She bites down on her bottom lip and concentrates on the slick, slippery rhythm she is making with her fingers.

“I can’t wait to taste you…” he whispers, picking up where she left off. “You’re so anxious for it that you are trembling as I open my mouth on your peachy, soft pussy. Can you feel it, baby? Can you feel my tongue licking and sucking your clit?”

“Yes,” she pants. She opens her hips wide and presses against the bed; seeking some other contact than her hand. She feels her walls tightening around her fingers. She whimpers and backs off a bit; she doesn’t want get ahead of him. “Will you dip your tongue inside of me?”

“Yes, I’ll fuck you with my tongue. I’ll get my pussy nice and wet; nice and ready for my dick.”

“What about my ass?”

He chuckles. “I’ll give your beautiful ass some attention, too but later…much later. Right now I just want to feel your hot pussy on my dick.”

“Ohh…” she sighs as her hips thrust against her sticky fingers spasmodically.

“You close, baby?”

“Yes,” she whispers.

“Don’t come yet…wait for me.”

Her free hand grips the phone as if she can draw some measure of restraint from it.

“Can you feel me, baby? Do you feel me slipping my dick in to your tight pussy? Do you feel me inside you?”

“Yes,” she moans. Her hand, now four fingers deep, is thrusting into her pussy. She pushes them in as deep as she can and massages her g-spot until her hips are curling and rolling against her hand. She can feel the orgasm building in her belly. She can’t hold it back much longer.

“Wait for me, baby…” he pleads. His voice sounds strained tight with effort. His breath is coming in short, harsh bursts and she can hear the wet sound of his well-lubed hand pulling his cock at a quick and steady pace.

“Fuck…” he whispers and then moans. She turns her face into her pillow and presses hard on her g-spot while she circles her clit with her thumb. When he comes he makes a noise that sounds so helpless that it always pushes her right over the edge. It’s a cry but a soft one. The weak and whimpering sound of his release mingles with the low, endless, tonal sound she makes as her pussy comes and comes, making a puddle in the palm of her hand.

“Fuck…” he whimpers again. And they both hang on the line as they pant and recover. “We can’t keep doing this…” he whispers.

“I know.”
“I need to see you.”

“I know.”

“I don’t mean to pressure you but…”

“I know,” she moans. “We’ll see each other…soon,” she promises.

He sighs; a soft, frustrated sigh. “I love you,” he says softly. She lets his profession of love wash over her shoulders, down her back and down to her toes where it settles makes them tingle.

“I love you, too,” she whispers in reply.

2 Replies to “Flash Fiction: Whisper-Sigh-Moan”

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