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So, yeah, don’t judge me if the first thing I did after wak
ing up was sit down on my couch and pick up the phone. A man can only resist so much, after all.
“Who do you think?” I say, pressing the phone against my ear as I mouth the words with my grave King Henry voice. I almost feel like the Batman, juggling two identities, one that makes Ashley come with my cock, and another that does it using just words.
“It’s you, Henry. I’ve been… waiting for your call,” I hear her say, her purred words making my heart pump warm blood straight to my cock. It gets hard, tenting my pants as I lean back against the couch.
“Have you? I don’t know if I believe you, Kitten. After all, you’ve been fucking other guys while you keep on taking my calls,” I say, propping my feet up on the coffee table as I rest my hand over my crotch, feeling my hard bulge with the tip of my fingers. I just can’t help but ask her about… well, me. But, for a few seconds, there’s only silence on the other side of the line.
“It’s true, sir… I spent all night thinking of you,” she tells me, her voice letting through a hint of Ashley’s true personality. There’s honesty there, she’s no longer playing a character. Somewhere along the way, King Henry has stripped Ashley out of her Misty persona.
“Is that so, Kitten? And what did you think about?”
“I thought of… The way you make me feel. I get so very wet whenever you take control." “I know you do. Now tell me, Kitten… What are you wearing right now?” I start massaging my cock over the fabric of my pants, taking my time with it. Hell, I never thought I’d be one of those guys who does this—calls a phone line so that they can get off. But with Ashley… There are no limits to what I will or will not do.
“I’m wearing a tiny little robe… And underneath it, an even tinier black lace thong,” she tells me, my fingers curling around my bulging. “No bra.” Christ, this is insane.
“I like that, Kitten. I like that a lot. But I would prefer you naked…” I say, drawling out the last part of my sentence as I imagine her there, lying in bed with only her thong on. “Take if off.”
“Yes, sir,” she purrs, and then there’s a long silence, followed by the sound of her moving about. She is actually taking her clothes off; this is not some imagination carrousel. “I am naked now.”
“Good. Where are you, Kitten?”
“In bed… All alone.”
“Good. Close your eyes now. I want you to imagine my hand on your skin, my fingers running from your navel up to your breasts…” I say, her breathing growing louder. “But don’t touch yourself, Kitten. Not yet; only when I say so.”
“Yes, sir,” she says, the tone of her voice telling me about the state her pussy is in right now: soaking wet.
“I want you to feel my body pressed against yours, my cock sliding deep inside of your wet pussy…” I continue, my own eyes closed as I picture the scene. What I wouldn’t give to be there now, lying in bed next to her naked body. “Imagine my big cock going all the way in, stretching you wide as I fuck you.”
“Yes, I… I am,” her words sound more like anxious moans now, and I can tell she’s eager for my permission to touch herself. But if she wants that, she’s going to have to wait. “I want that so much, sir… You can’t imagine how much.”
“Oh, yes, I can,” I tell her as I push my pants down, my cock jumping free against the palm of my hand. I grab it, feeling it pulse against my fingers as I hear Ashley’s hard breathing through the phone. Calling a sex line might be a fucked up thing, but I’m too into it right now; there are no brakes on this train.
“I want you hard,” she says suddenly. “Tell me that you’re hard.”
“I am hard, Kitten… And my thick cock is right here, waiting for those lush lips of yours.” I start stroking myself, moving my hand up and down at a quickly growing rhythm. This is fucking insane; it might not be the first time I’m doing this, but it doesn’t make it any less crazy.
“I want it in my mouth,” she blurts out, almost as if she has no control over what she’s saying. “I want to curl my fingers around it and suck on it as I stroke you… And I want to look you in the eyes as I do it, my mouth full with your cock. I want to pleasure you, and I want to touch myself as I do it.”
Fuck, I’m jerking myself hard now, her words turning into pictures inside my head.
“My nipples are so hard, sir. And my pussy is so wet… Can I please touch myself, sir? Please…” She asks me, genuinely begging for my permission. Christ, she could just lie, go ahead and do it, but no, she really wants me to say it, to allow her to do it.
“Yes, you can touch yourself,” I tell her, taking a deep breath before I do it. I don’t want to sound like a fucking breathless guy that’s stroking himself into oblivion, although that’s exactly what I am right now. “I want you to slide two fingers inside of yourself as you rub your clit, Kitten.”
She doesn’t even say anything; her moan is all that I need to hear to know that she’s doing it. Here we are, miles apart and still pleasuring ourselves, even though she has no idea that "King Henry" is the guy who actually fucked her last night.
“I… want…” she starts, trying to push the words out of her mouth between her hard breaths. “I want that big cock of yours… So damn much,” she moans, her honeyed voice climbing all the way up to my brain and stabbing it right in the middle. “I want to make you cum, and I want you to do it all over me, sir. I want you to cover me with it while I’m on my knees, my mouth open wide as you fill me up.”
That does it for me. I don’t even tell her I’m about to come, I just explode before I have the time to think about it. I groan into the phone, but I don’t think she hears me; she’s moaning loudly, almost screaming as if I was actually there, my cock buried inside of her pussy. I sit there, grabbing my cock while thick ropes of cum gush out of it, the sound of her orgasm numbing my mind. This might be fucking insane, but it doesn’t make it any less good, let me tell you that. Sure, the real thing is way better… But this beats just using my imagination, there’s no question about that. And, of course, I’m pretty sure of who she’s going to turn to after King Henry has left her in a wet mess: good ol’ Arsen Hawke.
“I… I just couldn’t help myself, sir,” she says, her voice a quivering mess. “I had to come. I just had to.”
“I know, Kitten. It’s alright, but next time, remember: you’ll only come when I tell you to.”
“Yes, sir. I promise.”
