Phone sex girlfriend
She made me cum so many times, but I never saw her face or touched her skin or smelt the scent of her shampoo in her hair.
I was 30, working single mum of an 11-year old, feeling lost and lonely after coming out of a five-year relationship. Hannah was 18, living at home and just starting university, bi-curious and still a virgin. There's no way we'd even have met in normal life, let alone gotten romantically involved, but over the phone we shared our most intimate secrets and what was frankly some pretty intense sex.
We met on one of those chat sites you only go to late at night when you're at rock bottom, the kind so full of fakes and scammers and sleazeballs that you tell yourself you're going to log out and never go back. But part of you clings to the hope that you might meet just one person who can hold a decent conversation instead of being there to scam nude photos out of you. So you'll log out and never come back, after one last chat...
And that's how I found myself clicking on "WetGirl" and asking if "she" liked chatting to women. I say "she" in quotes because I'm sure at least 90% of the so-called females on those sites are guys faking it. It's not the dishonesty that offends me, it's how dumb they must think women are because they're so obvious after a few lines of conversation (seriously dudes, if you insist on wasting women's time like this at least have the decency to make an effort). I wasn't holding out much hope for someone with WetGirl as their nickname, but I guess I really was lonely that night.
Against the odds we clicked. Somehow the few minutes of disappointing chat I'd expected turned into an hour or two of fun, comfortable conversation as we told each other about our lives. I'm quite a private person in real life, but the anonymity of online chat with a stranger made it feel safe to open up. I found myself telling her all about my recent break-up and the relationship that came before it, while she opened up about her own confused sexuality and her secret fantasies about being with a woman.
Before we knew it it was past 1 a.m. and part of me was dreading having to wake up for work in less than six hours time. Our chat had covered some pretty intimate ground but discussing sex with her felt perfectly natural, not forced like with the fakes who you know are typing one-handed. I could tell Hannah was getting sleepy too, so I was thinking I'd say goodnight, put the phone under my pillow, quickly masturbate then get some sleep. Then Hannah surprised me with something like this:
"Um, Cait, can I tell you something?"
"Sure"
"I've really liked talking so openly about sex with you, but it's left me feeling really horny..."
"Honestly you're not the only one, I was kinda thinking I'll have to do something about it after we finish chatting"
"Mmmm me too actually..."
(Bit of a pause here as I ponder how hot the idea of this complete stranger masturbating to thoughts of our conversation is)
"I hope this doesn't freak you out Cait, but..."
"Yes?"
"Have you ever had phone sex?"
Oh my.
The truth is I'd done it with my ex, who was a nurse and sometimes rang me late at night on her breaks for an intense, whispered "good night" call. But never with a stranger, and everyone knows that giving your phone number to strangers online is asking for trouble. Yet here I was wet and excited at the thought of hearing her voice, hearing her moans as we shared our private pleasure together... So I called her.
The voice that quietly answered was shy and nervous but unmistakeably female (thank goodness). She knew I had my daughter asleep down the hall and I knew she had family in the house too, so we both talked in whispers. Despite being the older more experienced woman in the call I felt as shy as Hannah did, and that first time she took the lead. She told me how she'd been wet for quite a while as we chatted and how she'd slipped her boxers off to grind against the sheets. I told her I was nude and had been teasing my nipples, which got a nervous but playful giggle as she said she'd like to suck them.
"I'd love that" I said, completely truthfully.
"Mmmm me too... I'm touching my pussy now, I'm so wet..."
"Oh God me too, I don't think this is going to take long..."
And it didn't. Our words gave way to soft sighs and moans, gentle panting as we rubbed our pussies together, then Hannah's "oh Cait I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, oh fuck I'm cumming" had me right there with her.
As we both caught our breath the shyness came back, but also the need. I think Hannah came twice more before admitting she was too sleepy to continue, but I kept going after wishing her sweet dreams, enjoying what must have been my best solo session since the break-up. Waking up to the alarm the next morning was brutal, but it was worth it.
Daylight is a funny thing. I'm one of those people who can go a bit wild in the night, then the morning after I overthink things terribly. Battling to keep my eyes open at work the next day I tried to decide if I should text Hannah, not wanting to seem clingy or ******rish but also not wanting to lose the connection we'd made. In the end I decided to wait, but I found myself checking my phone much more than usual, hoping she might text me even as I reminded myself we didn't owe each other anything beyond the moment we'd shared.
Then a few nights later I was back on that dodgy site, the one I said I wouldnt go back to, and was just about to quit for the night when a message arrived from WetGirl: "hi Cait it's Hannah, remember me?" How could I forget...
This time there was a lot less small talk. Hannah told me how much she'd enjoyed our last "chat" and how she couldn't stop thinking about it. "Just thinking?" I asked teasingly. The blush emoji I got back said it all.
"So what are you doing now Hannah?"
"I'm masturbating"
"Need some company?"
(Phone emoji in reply)
It was even better the second time.
The third time I texted her, and that became our pattern. Once or twice a week one of us would text the other mid-evening with an innocent "hi, how are you?" We'd flirt back and forth knowing we both had to be careful that family members didn't notice, then the conversation would get hotter once one of us was in bed. The other would soon join her, the phone emoji becoming our "I can't hold back much longer" signal. Hannah had the knack of saying just enough, describing some little detail of her room or the way she was lying in bed or how she was touching herself, until it like I was there with her as she quietly brought herself to orgasm.
It sounds tacky but I guess we really were friends with benefits. She was still working herself out, wondering if she was actually bisexual or just liked the idea of it, and I was too emotionally bruised from my break-up to want to get involved again, especially with someone closer to my daughter's age than to my own (saying it like that I feel like such a dirty old woman). But our texts were friendly as well as flirty and we began to learn more about each other's lives. I had a moment of panic when she mentioned one day that she'd been wet in class thinking about me, wondering if all this time I'd been having phone sex with a high school girl and breaking who knows what kind of law, but she reassured me she really was 18 and that "class" meant her university lectures.
The sex also became hotter as we shared more of our fantasies with each other. We lived in different cities so there was no chance of even accidentally meeting, but I confessed how sometimes I'd see cute uni students on the bus I took to work and I'd imagine they were her, that the night before they'd been moaning and masturbating the way she had. Hannah teased me about that no end, but she also confessed (classic bi girl fantasy here) that the age difference excited her and how she'd masturbated in the toilets at her university library imagining me bending her over a desk and roughly fucking her with a strap-on dildo. Not my usual kind of fantasy, but after hearing her cum so hard over the phone the first time she told me I had no problem getting into it...
All in all it probably lasted about six months. I felt completely comfortable flirting and masturbating with her despite the age difference, and for all I sometimes wonder if it wasn't just sex and I'd actually developed feelings for her, things never got awkward or complicated. I think it helped that I'd never date a woman so much younger than me in real life, and for all we never discussed it I got the strong impression she had phone sex with men (and maybe other women) too. Somehow we just knew the boundaries without having to say them out loud, so there was never any question of swapping photos or any hurt feelings if one of us was too busy with life to text. Instead we enjoyed playful, intense phone sex, then one day for no particular reason it stopped.
Maybe she met someone (I did a few months later), or maybe we'd simply had our time, but we fell out of contact. There wasn't a last goodbye session or anything, no chance to screw things up by saying "actually I really like you..." We were phone sex lovers, and then we weren't.
Sometimes late at night I still miss her though.
I was 30, working single mum of an 11-year old, feeling lost and lonely after coming out of a five-year relationship. Hannah was 18, living at home and just starting university, bi-curious and still a virgin. There's no way we'd even have met in normal life, let alone gotten romantically involved, but over the phone we shared our most intimate secrets and what was frankly some pretty intense sex.
We met on one of those chat sites you only go to late at night when you're at rock bottom, the kind so full of fakes and scammers and sleazeballs that you tell yourself you're going to log out and never go back. But part of you clings to the hope that you might meet just one person who can hold a decent conversation instead of being there to scam nude photos out of you. So you'll log out and never come back, after one last chat...
And that's how I found myself clicking on "WetGirl" and asking if "she" liked chatting to women. I say "she" in quotes because I'm sure at least 90% of the so-called females on those sites are guys faking it. It's not the dishonesty that offends me, it's how dumb they must think women are because they're so obvious after a few lines of conversation (seriously dudes, if you insist on wasting women's time like this at least have the decency to make an effort). I wasn't holding out much hope for someone with WetGirl as their nickname, but I guess I really was lonely that night.
Against the odds we clicked. Somehow the few minutes of disappointing chat I'd expected turned into an hour or two of fun, comfortable conversation as we told each other about our lives. I'm quite a private person in real life, but the anonymity of online chat with a stranger made it feel safe to open up. I found myself telling her all about my recent break-up and the relationship that came before it, while she opened up about her own confused sexuality and her secret fantasies about being with a woman.
Before we knew it it was past 1 a.m. and part of me was dreading having to wake up for work in less than six hours time. Our chat had covered some pretty intimate ground but discussing sex with her felt perfectly natural, not forced like with the fakes who you know are typing one-handed. I could tell Hannah was getting sleepy too, so I was thinking I'd say goodnight, put the phone under my pillow, quickly masturbate then get some sleep. Then Hannah surprised me with something like this:
"Um, Cait, can I tell you something?"
"Sure"
"I've really liked talking so openly about sex with you, but it's left me feeling really horny..."
"Honestly you're not the only one, I was kinda thinking I'll have to do something about it after we finish chatting"
"Mmmm me too actually..."
(Bit of a pause here as I ponder how hot the idea of this complete stranger masturbating to thoughts of our conversation is)
"I hope this doesn't freak you out Cait, but..."
"Yes?"
"Have you ever had phone sex?"
Oh my.
The truth is I'd done it with my ex, who was a nurse and sometimes rang me late at night on her breaks for an intense, whispered "good night" call. But never with a stranger, and everyone knows that giving your phone number to strangers online is asking for trouble. Yet here I was wet and excited at the thought of hearing her voice, hearing her moans as we shared our private pleasure together... So I called her.
The voice that quietly answered was shy and nervous but unmistakeably female (thank goodness). She knew I had my daughter asleep down the hall and I knew she had family in the house too, so we both talked in whispers. Despite being the older more experienced woman in the call I felt as shy as Hannah did, and that first time she took the lead. She told me how she'd been wet for quite a while as we chatted and how she'd slipped her boxers off to grind against the sheets. I told her I was nude and had been teasing my nipples, which got a nervous but playful giggle as she said she'd like to suck them.
"I'd love that" I said, completely truthfully.
"Mmmm me too... I'm touching my pussy now, I'm so wet..."
"Oh God me too, I don't think this is going to take long..."
And it didn't. Our words gave way to soft sighs and moans, gentle panting as we rubbed our pussies together, then Hannah's "oh Cait I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, oh fuck I'm cumming" had me right there with her.
As we both caught our breath the shyness came back, but also the need. I think Hannah came twice more before admitting she was too sleepy to continue, but I kept going after wishing her sweet dreams, enjoying what must have been my best solo session since the break-up. Waking up to the alarm the next morning was brutal, but it was worth it.
Daylight is a funny thing. I'm one of those people who can go a bit wild in the night, then the morning after I overthink things terribly. Battling to keep my eyes open at work the next day I tried to decide if I should text Hannah, not wanting to seem clingy or ******rish but also not wanting to lose the connection we'd made. In the end I decided to wait, but I found myself checking my phone much more than usual, hoping she might text me even as I reminded myself we didn't owe each other anything beyond the moment we'd shared.
Then a few nights later I was back on that dodgy site, the one I said I wouldnt go back to, and was just about to quit for the night when a message arrived from WetGirl: "hi Cait it's Hannah, remember me?" How could I forget...
This time there was a lot less small talk. Hannah told me how much she'd enjoyed our last "chat" and how she couldn't stop thinking about it. "Just thinking?" I asked teasingly. The blush emoji I got back said it all.
"So what are you doing now Hannah?"
"I'm masturbating"
"Need some company?"
(Phone emoji in reply)
It was even better the second time.
The third time I texted her, and that became our pattern. Once or twice a week one of us would text the other mid-evening with an innocent "hi, how are you?" We'd flirt back and forth knowing we both had to be careful that family members didn't notice, then the conversation would get hotter once one of us was in bed. The other would soon join her, the phone emoji becoming our "I can't hold back much longer" signal. Hannah had the knack of saying just enough, describing some little detail of her room or the way she was lying in bed or how she was touching herself, until it like I was there with her as she quietly brought herself to orgasm.
It sounds tacky but I guess we really were friends with benefits. She was still working herself out, wondering if she was actually bisexual or just liked the idea of it, and I was too emotionally bruised from my break-up to want to get involved again, especially with someone closer to my daughter's age than to my own (saying it like that I feel like such a dirty old woman). But our texts were friendly as well as flirty and we began to learn more about each other's lives. I had a moment of panic when she mentioned one day that she'd been wet in class thinking about me, wondering if all this time I'd been having phone sex with a high school girl and breaking who knows what kind of law, but she reassured me she really was 18 and that "class" meant her university lectures.
The sex also became hotter as we shared more of our fantasies with each other. We lived in different cities so there was no chance of even accidentally meeting, but I confessed how sometimes I'd see cute uni students on the bus I took to work and I'd imagine they were her, that the night before they'd been moaning and masturbating the way she had. Hannah teased me about that no end, but she also confessed (classic bi girl fantasy here) that the age difference excited her and how she'd masturbated in the toilets at her university library imagining me bending her over a desk and roughly fucking her with a strap-on dildo. Not my usual kind of fantasy, but after hearing her cum so hard over the phone the first time she told me I had no problem getting into it...
All in all it probably lasted about six months. I felt completely comfortable flirting and masturbating with her despite the age difference, and for all I sometimes wonder if it wasn't just sex and I'd actually developed feelings for her, things never got awkward or complicated. I think it helped that I'd never date a woman so much younger than me in real life, and for all we never discussed it I got the strong impression she had phone sex with men (and maybe other women) too. Somehow we just knew the boundaries without having to say them out loud, so there was never any question of swapping photos or any hurt feelings if one of us was too busy with life to text. Instead we enjoyed playful, intense phone sex, then one day for no particular reason it stopped.
Maybe she met someone (I did a few months later), or maybe we'd simply had our time, but we fell out of contact. There wasn't a last goodbye session or anything, no chance to screw things up by saying "actually I really like you..." We were phone sex lovers, and then we weren't.
Sometimes late at night I still miss her though.
3年前
