Flash Fiction Friday - 7/12 - Answer it!

Required Phrase ="Answer it"
Forbidden Words = Orgasm
Word Length = 661
Extra Credit = Tell us who's calling
Bonus Words = 50 if you tell us a phone sex confession

Jerry loomed over Edna, his swollen cock poised at her entrance. It had taken weeks of seduction to reach this point, starting slow and building the tension until she finally invited him in after their sixth date. Six dates! He thought to himself. I’ve never waited longer than three!

He would have cut his losses had she been any other woman, but Edna was no other woman! Smart, beautiful, an excellent conversationalist; everyone agreed that Edna was the catch of the century. Jerry had never doubted that he’d win her over, but he was bemused at how long it took.

He knew she wouldn’t give in after the first date, and was not overly disappointed by the chaste kiss she’d given him on the cheek when he walked her to her door. The second and third dates had hardly been better, but the kisses lingered a little longer. It was on the fourth date that she truly kissed him, on the lips, opening her mouth to him in an invitation to his tongue. She’d stepped into his arms and they pressed against each other, and Jerry knew she had to have felt his erection against her flat stomach. Jerry smiled at the memory of the fluttering that occurred in his own belly at that first true kiss.

The fifth date had been a step back; Edna had held his hand and stood close to him all through the dance, but when he brought her home she hurried in with barely a peck on the lips. He considered not even bothering asking her for a next date, but decided to take one last stab at it. She’d called the date off twice during the day, but each time she called back after a few minutes to say she’d changed her mind and would go out after all. Then during dinner she barely spoke, and stared at her plate. Jerry fumed, and swore that he would drop her off and never call her again.

But when they got to her front door, Edna invited him for a nightcap. She seemed on edge as she mixed them a drink (Scotch and soda for him, gin and tonic for her), but as they sat on the loveseat and sipped their drinks, she started loosening up. Soon she scooted closer to him, and as they kissed he realized that this would be the night. Her passion and aggression surprised him, considering how demure she’d been up to this point.

He was certain she would stop him when he caressed her breast over her dress, but she’d leaned into his hand. Later when his hand ran up her inner thigh, instead of clamping them together to halt his progress, she’d opened them, slightly at first, then wider, inviting him in further. She’d murmured “Follow me,” as she stood and lead him down the hallway to her room, and once there had shucked off her dress, slip, and panty hose in the time he’d needed just to take off his shoes and unbuckle his belt.

“Let me help,” she sighed, stepping up and undoing the buttons to his slacks. She pushed them down, sliding her hands over his hips as she followed them, looking up at him from her kneeling position. She smiled as she pulled his boxers over his erection, and blinked in mild surprise when it sprang up in front of her. She licked the tip and slid her mouth slowly down his entire length before raising back up and beckoning him to the bed. He quickly threw off his remaining clothes as she laid back.

Her responsiveness as he licked and sucked her pussy to a plump, wet fullness pleased him, and he hurriedly crawled back up the length of her body. The anticipation of entering her was made sweeter by the brief delay as he paused to reflect on their courtship.

When the phone rang, she smiled at him and said “Answer it.” He looked at her, confused. “Answer it!” she said, more insistently. “Answer the goddamned phone!” she snarled, still smiling prettily.

Jerry woke to Edna pushing his shoulder. He blinked his eyes, remembering where and when he was. The phone continued ringing. 

“Would you please answer the fucking phone?” she growled, sleepily. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Is it sweet that a man would have a wet dream about his own wife? Or sad that the dream was from years earlier, when the relationship was still new and fresh and fun? Go read some other, and better, takes on this week's FFF at Advizor's site.

I went over the limit, but by exactly 50 words, so that means I have to make a phone sex confession. I’m not really comfortable talking on the phone anyway, and prefer Skype sex, or even sexting, to phone sex. Don’t ask me why, it’s just the way I’ve always been.

The few times I have engaged in phone sex have been okay, I guess. The best was when I was in the Army, calling home from Kuwait from the satellite phone center they had set up. This was in 1991, so cell phones weren’t widely in use, and this call wound up costing us a ton! I loved hearing the wife’s voice after going so long apart, but even though I played along when she wanted to talk dirty, it just didn’t do anything for me. I’d masturbate over and over to the letters she wrote, and the pictures she sent (Polaroid photos back then, of course.) And though I loved to listen to the squelching sounds and she fingered her pussy for me, holding the phone close so I could hear, it just didn’t enflame me.

So I lied to her when I told her I was going to cum, breathing harder to sell the lie. I gasped, and moaned, then sighed in relief. Yes, I faked an orgasm (that word isn’t forbidden outside the story, right?) so that she’d feel better, thinking she’d had that effect on me. Twenty-plus years later, I’ve still never told her the truth.