Cell Phones Can Be Fun

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After years of carrying around our clunky old cell phones, Sara and I finally knuckled under and bought some of the new trendy little gadgets with cameras, games, and all that fun stuff. Little did we know what such a mundane transaction would lead to.

We’d had the new phones for about six weeks when I went on a business trip for a couple of nights. I travel often and one of the things we love to do when I’m on the road is engage in some spirited phone sex. Our first cell phones—with their unlimited night time minutes sure brought down our phone bills. After Sara got the kids to bed, she’d call me in my room and we’d spend a happy hour together living out long distance fantasies.

Sometimes I would tell her that I had a prostitute in the room with me who was sucking my cock as we talked. Other times she’d tell me about the plumber who had fucked her silly during the day, regaling me with every detail of his cock, his technique, and her shattering orgasms. Often I could hear a very real vibrator buzzing away at her end of the connection. When we’d both cum at last, we’d laugh about the fantasy play, make kissing noises at each other and fall happily to sleep.

On my first trip with the new phone, Sara called me about 10:00. I had already showered and was lying nude in the bed, watching a porn movie on the television. Needless to say, given the action I was watching on screen, I was already very hard and ready to chat with my lover.

“Hey babe,” she purred into the phone. “Go check your email.”

“Now?” I asked.

“Right now.”

“Okay, hold on,” I said.

Standing up, I crossed the room to my laptop, clicked on the email icon and checked my mail. I had two messages. One was from a grad student of mine, which I ignored, and the other was from Sara. This one, I noticed, had an attachment.

“Okay,” I said. “I’m opening your attachment now.”

“Mmmmm,” she murmured.

The picture that loaded up on my screen was a sight I’d seen a thousand times in my life…my wife’s pussy, lips parted and moist.

“Holy shit,” I said. “What a view!”

“You like big boy?” she asked.

“You have to ask?” I replied. “I was hard before I saw this, but now I’m very hard.”

“Mmmmmm,” she murmured again. “I just took that picture five minutes ago.”

“You did?”

“Yep,” she said. “I used the cell phone camera.” “No shit!” I replied. “What a great idea.”

“Thanks sweetie,” she said. “Now, how about sending me one of that hard cock of yours?”

“Hang on,” I said.

I turned on the desk lamp to provide better lighting, pointed my phone at my now extremely hard cock and snapped a picture that showed the veins popping, the head much redder than the shaft. The picture looked good, so I saved it, then emailed it to Sara.

Putting the phone back to my ear, I said, “Okay babe. My hard cock is on the way.”

“I can’t wait,” she replied. “But while I do wait, why don’t you tell me all about that movie you were watching before I called you?”

She knew me too well. So, I told her all about the twenty minutes of the flick I’d seen so far…it was about horny housewives who end up in three way sex with neighbors or friends. Three way sex was one of our recurrent fantasies, although neither of us had really ever pressed to act on it. It was mostly a lot of fun to think about and to play pretend while we were fucking or on the phone with each other.

After a few minutes of this, Sara interrupted me to say that my message had arrived and that my cock was a beautiful sight.

“I’m already so wet baby,” she purred. “Seeing how hard you are makes me want to get down on my knees and suck you down my throat.”

“Yeah, baby,” I replied. “I’d love that. But you’d have to wait your turn. The little co-ed I picked up in the bar tonight says she has first dibs.”

“Well then,” she said. “Why don’t you show her the new picture I just sent you?”

I checked my mail again and this time was greeted by a shot of Sara’s pussy lips closing around the head of one of her favorite vibrators.

Over the next half hour or so, my wife and I emailed one another a couple of dozen photos of ourselves in various stages of excitement. It was one of the wildest nights of phone sex we’d ever had and when I got home from my trip, Sara was waiting for me in the bedroom, her legs spread wide and one of her hands buried in her cunt. She’d sent the kids to sleepovers at various friends’ houses and was ready for some serious fucking. Needless to say, that’s just what we did.

The next morning I picked up my phone on the way to the car and when I tried to turn it on all I got on the screen was a parade of meaningless computer code. I turned if off, then back on again and the same thing happened. I tried taking out the battery and restarting it and again I got nothing but streaming code across the screen.

Sara giggled. “Maybe you burned it out the other night in the hotel.”

We both laughed. On my way to work I stopped at the phone company store to escort izmit get the phone fixed. Fortunately, it was still very new and so was under warranty. The nice young woman at the door directed me to the technicians’ desk at the back of the store. As I approached the desk I was stunned to see what greeted me there. Instead of some pimply guy with thick glasses, the technician on duty was a young woman, maybe 20-22 years old. And she was anything but pimply!

Although you’d probably call her face average, her body was world class. This I knew because she was wearing a black v-necked sweater that was cut way, way down, a white satin camisole that was cut only slightly higher, and some sort of push up bra that was causing her very ample cleavage to spill up and out of the opening in her layered tops. Her breasts were large, milky white and inviting. It was all I could do to wrench my eyes up to her face, which was crinkled in a wry smile. She knew the effect her clothes were having on me and was enjoying it.

“Can I help you sir?” she asked.

“Uh, yeah,” I stammered. “My phone seems to have died on me. It’s almost brand new, so it would be warranty service.”

“Let me take a look at it,” she said, extending her hand. Her nails were a deep red and very carefully done. As I handed over the phone, I was able to take in the rest of the view. Her sweater made it almost to the waistband of her pants and a firm stomach peeked through the gap. She was quite thin.

As I tried to watch her hands and not stare at her tits, she turned on the phone, looked at the screen, shook her head and said, “I’ve been seeing a lot of this problem with this phone. It’s a software glitch. I’m going to have to give you a new phone. This one is dead.”

I must have looked a little dejected, because she smiled up at me and said, “Don’t worry. I can have a new one for you in about 45 minutes.”

“Oh,” I said. “I’ve got to be in class in half an hour, so I’ll just pick it up after lunch if that’s okay.”

She smiled. “Works for me.” Then, “So you teach at the University?”

“Yes,” I said, smiling back. After all, her cleavage was spectacular and it would only take me 10 minutes to get from here to my classroom. “I teach American history.”

She smiled even wider. “I’m taking U.S. History right now, but not at the U. I’m at the community college.”

“Who’s your professor?” I asked.

“Dr. Albertson.”

“I know Dick. He was one of our grad students about ten years ago. That was before I got here, but I’ve met him.”

“He’s kind of funny,” she said. “He makes it interesting anyway.”

Now I really did have to go and I said so.

“Okay,” she said. “Just one thing. Any data on this phone…you know, phone numbers, pictures…I won’t be able to recover it. My name’s Angela if you want to call ahead to make sure it’s ready.”

“Oh, sure,” I said. “I guess I’ll have to live with that.”

On my way to the car it occurred to me that it was a good thing that all that data was lost. After all, there were about a dozen pictures of my cock in various stages of arousal stored in that phone along with several more of Sara’s cunt that I’d snapped the night before – “To keep me happy at work,” I’d told her when I took them.

After lunch I slipped off campus and headed back to the phone store. I had called and Angela told me she had my new phone waiting for me. I was a lot more excited about one last peek at her cleavage than I was about getting my phone back.

As before, she was sitting behind the counter. I had to wait for a few minutes while she waited on a man in front of me. Even from behind I could tell that he gaze was glued downward onto her chest. She must enjoy the attention, I thought to myself. Otherwise she wouldn’t dress that way on the job, especially sitting down behind a counter the way she did, forcing her customers to peer down at her.

When it was my turn, Angela looked up and smiled broadly again. “Hi Dr. Jones. Your phone’s all set.”

She then made me even happier by bending forward just a bit to retrieve my phone from a drawer in her counter. What a body she had.

“Here you go,” she said, handing me a new phone. “I hope you won’t have any problems with this one.”

“Thanks Angela,” I replied.

I signed the receipt and was just about to go when she said, “Dr. Jones, I am sorry you lost all your data on the old phone. I hope you didn’t have any pictures you wanted to save or anything.”

Something about the way she looked at me as she said that made me pause. “Uh, no,” I said. “Nothing special.”

“Okay then,” she replied. “Have a nice day.”

“You too,” I said and headed back to the office.

As much fun as I’d had ogling her cleavage, I didn’t think anything more about Angela that day. But the following morning when I got to work and opened my email, I saw that I had a message from someone with the alias fonechik. The subject line read “About your old phone…” I was just about to delete it, given that it was almost certainly izmit escort spam, but some little voice in my head said, “Read the message.” So I did.

To my surprise, it was from Angela. The note said:

hey dr. jones. after you left the store yesterday i managed to repair your old phone after all. i’ve attached a file with the pics you had on there. i hope those are pics of your wife, not your girlfriend, lol. very nice pics of you too. lol.

I stood up, closed my office door, then returned to my desk and opened the attachment. Sure enough, there were the pictures of my cock from the phone along with several pictures of Sara very excited anatomy.

Wow! What a turn of events. I realized that I was experiencing a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. I’d told Sara about Angela—how I’d lusted after her tits and how glad I was that our pictures had been destroyed in the melt down of my phone. Sara had teased me a little, suggesting that I secretly hoped Angela had seen my cock pictures. Then she pushed me back on the bed and gave me a nice slow blowjob, insisting that I call her Angela while she sucked me. And now, here was Angela sending me pictures of my cock and my wife’s cunt.

That evening when I got home I told Sara that I had something important to tell her, but that it would have to wait until after the kids were asleep.

“I’ll just bet you do,” she snickered.

At 9:30, all was quiet in the house and I took Sara by the hand and led her down to our basement office. I dialed up my email, opened the message from Angela and then clicked on the file of pictures.

“Oh my God!” Sara said. “I can’t believe this!”

“Yeah, I was as surprised as you,” I said.

“No,” she said. “You don’t get it. Look closer at the pictures of me.”

I did as I was told…after all, who wouldn’t want to look at pictures of my wife’s cunt, spread wide, lips engorged, juices flowing? And then it dawned on me! There were five pictures on my screen, but I had only taken four pictures of Sara. I leaned closer to get a better look at the fifth picture and sure enough, it was definitely not Sara’s pussy lips that I was looking at!

“She sent you a picture of her pussy,” Sara said, her voice low and a little husky. “She had to know you’d notice. Allan, she wants to fuck you!”

I had to admit, the possibility that this was a pick up attempt on Angela’s part was certainly there. Quietly to myself I was thanking my lucky stars that I had shown Sara these pictures. No way could she accuse me of being on the wrong side of the law on this one.

“I think you’re right,” I admitted. Then, looking closer, “And she does have a beautiful pussy, doesn’t she?”

Sara leaned forward a bit herself and said, “You’re right. It is beautiful. Look at the differences between hers and mine. See how her outer lips are more prominent and the way her clit stands out? Look at mine. It’s more hooded, even in that last one where I’m close to cumming.”

All this staring at very pornographic pictures was beginning to have an effect on me and I had to adjust my pants a bit to release some of the pressure that was building. Of course, Sara noticed.

“Poor baby,” she cooed. “This is making you horny isn’t it?”

“Uh-huh,” I muttered. “And you?”

“Take a look at this,” she said and turned to face me. Her nipples were hard and pressing against the fabric of her t-shirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra.

Before we knew it, we were down on the floor in sixty-nine position, Sara’s greedy mouth engulfing my cock while my tongue lashed back and forth against her clit. I came first, spurting into the back of her throat and then she ground herself down onto my face, moaning as she came too.

“Wow,” Sara said at last, rolling off of me. “That was incredible. I came very hard.”

“Me too,” I agreed.

“Yes, I noticed,” she giggled. Then turning serious, she said, “Hear me out on something Allan.”

“Sure,” I said, not certain where she was going.

“You know how we’ve fantasized about threesomes in the past, right?” I nodded. “Well, what would you think about trying one with this Angela?”

I was about to say something, but she held up her hand to shush me. “I mean, it’s obvious that she wants you and, from what you’ve told me and what I’ve seen here, she’s very hot. I think this could be our chance to try this out to see how we like it.”

I thought about it for a minute, not one hundred percent sure I wanted to say yes. After all, I’d read stories about couples, happily married like us, who tried the swinging lifestyle and then watched their marriage fall apart. I refocused on Sara and saw from the look on her face that this was something she really wanted to try. Then I remembered Angela’s cleavage and said, “Babe, let’s go for it and see what happens.”

Sara smiled from ear to ear, then took my cock in her hand and began massaging me back to life. Given what I was now thinking about, it didn’t’ take long.

Late that night, after we were izmit kendi evi olan escort both exhausted, I sat back at the computer and responded to Angela’s email.

Dear Angela:

Thanks for the message you sent me last night and for the pics. All of them. My wife Sara also wants to say thanks. In fact, we were hoping that the three of us could get together sometime soon, maybe Friday night, and the two of us could express our appreciation in person. Let me know.


Sara and I staggered off to bed. When I woke up the next morning, Sara was already dressed and wearing a huge grin.

“I checked your email, honey,” she said. “Angela says Friday would be great. I wrote her back and suggested drinks at the Radisson Hotel downtown. Eight o’clock.

I had woken up with a hard on and wanted nothing more than to stick it in my wife right there, but I could hear the kids rampaging around the house, so I took a shower instead.

Sara and I spent the next three days teasing one another about what was coming up, reassuring one another that we both wanted to go through with this, and getting very, very excited. When Friday arrived at last, we dumped the kids at friends’ houses for the night, went home, showered and got dressed. Neither of us put on underwear…a little ritual we have when we’re planning a night of serious fucking.

Sara is a beautiful woman. At 43, she still has the body of a 30 year old, trim and athletic. Her tits are not large, but at 34C they aren’t small either. The dress she was wearing accentuated all of her curves and the green pattern matched her incredible eyes. Just before we left the house, she backed up against me, grinding her ass into my crotch, making me moan. I ran my hands over her tits, getting a moan out of her in return.

Walking into the hotel bar, I saw Angela sitting on a barstool. She was wearing a microscopically short black leather skirt and a red satin blouse that was unbuttoned as far as one can go without being asked to cover up. The edges of a black bra and lots of cleavage were visible as she turned to greet us.

“Hi Angela,” I said. “This is my wife Sara.”

Angela’s eyes sparkled as she looked at Sara. I noticed that she very openly took in the entire view, from Sara’s waist, up and over her tits, to her face. To my delight, Sara was doing the same, staring openly at Angela’s chest.

“Hi Sara,” Angela said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Sara said. Yep, she was horny alright. Whenever she was really turned on her voice dropped a register and right she was on the verge of being a baritone.

We took seats at the bar, one on either side of Angela. The bartender was standing close, so we ordered right away. Sara asked for a martini to match Angela’s and I ordered a scotch and soda. While we were waiting for the drinks, Sara dove right in.

“Thanks for sending back those pictures Angela.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, smiling. “I could tell they were the sort of thing you’d want back.”

“Yes,” Sara said. “That’s true. And thanks for the extra picture you included.”

“You noticed that, did you,” Angela replied, smirking just a bit. “I know what my own pussy looks like,” Sara said. “So I noticed it right away. Quite frankly, given as much time as Allan spends with his head between my legs, I’m amazed he didn’t notice before I did.”

Angela turned to me, batted her eyelashes and said, “Bad boy, Dr. Jones.”

“Call me Allan,” I said. “Guilty as charged.”

I could see that Sara was now very excited. Her nipples were pressing hard against her dress and her pupils were more than a little dilated. I knew how excited I was. After all, my pants were much tighter now than they had been when I put them on.

Our drinks arrived and Sara and I both took large gulps. The scotch felt good going down…soothing and warming at the same time.

Angela then raised her glass and clinked it with Sara, “To new friends,” she said.

“New friends,” Sara repeated, as did I when Angela turned to me and we clinked glasses as well.

Given what was going on, I made no pretence of not staring into her cleavage this time. It was truly something to behold. I wanted Angela to see me doing it, so I held my gaze on the creaminess of the curves bulging out of her blouse for a good ten or fifteen seconds before I looked up.

Sara broke my reverie by saying in a softer voice than before, “Angela, Allan seems to be in love with your tits.”

Angela giggled. “He does, doesn’t he.”

I nodded. What else could I do?

“Well,” Sara said, “you do have a very beautiful body.”

“Thanks,” Angela replied. “And you are a very sexy lady yourself. I especially like the way that dress highlights your hips. I hope I look as good as you when I’m your age.”

“I’m sure you will,” Sara replied, not taking any offense over the “at your age” comment. “The secret is plenty of exercise and regular sex.”

Now this was a side of Sara I’d never seen on public display before. With me she’d certainly been an aggressive lover, but when it came to letting anyone else know of her appetites, she’d always been circumspect. Not tonight. One thing that wasn’t hurting was that she’d chugged her martini in only two or three swallows.

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