This happened a few years ago just after I graduated from college and I found a job about 75 miles away from my hometown. It was a decent job at a newspaper as a photographer. My girlfriend, who was still in college, already had a job as a writer at the newspaper in our hometown. So that meant we spent a lot of time away from each other. She worked hard at her craft and sometimes late into the evenings. Often times having a drink or two with college friends and or her workmates after work. We spent time on the phone and saw each other on weekends. Sometimes her late evening calls after the bar were very entertaining and often in her slightly drunk stage would share with me that guys had been making a move on her. She was so honest that she would joke around with me about the moves guys made and how “touchy” they had been with her. It was always a matter of great humor for us both as she told me these stories. It eventually became a big part of our phone sharing time, a few comments about her work experiences and the a lot about her playtime out after work or school. I didn’t realize it at the time but we talked about her getting felt up at the bar quite a bit. The stories were fun and often I became aroused while hearing about her experiences. It was the only sexual outlet I had until I saw her on the weekends. At first she visited every weekend, then after a while down to once every couple weeks and occasionally once a month. I was becoming frustrated and more and more looked forward to her stories. At first her stories were about some guy just chatting with her and asking her to go out for coffee and kind of trying to hold her hand and such. After a few months away from her. some of the guys, well you know, guys will be guys, tried for more. They wanted to dance with her, sometimes she did. They wanted to hold her close, sometimes she said she let them. They let their hands wonder low toward her ass, “I mean who would notice on a dark dance floor,” she said. Some of the times some guys brushed her breasts and touched her nipples, She told me what was the harm? We were both hot for each other and these stories were driving us both white hot. I am sure she could tell I was enjoying her stories after I began to ask more and more about her being with these guys. I just knew she was embellishing the stories for my benefit and hers. The stories kept getting hotter and hotter. One night I had arrived home to my apartment after a long assignment at a house fire. I smelled awful. I was sure I had missed her call or she was asleep. So off to the shower I went. I was just starting to dry off when the phone rang. It was her. It was 2:30 in the morning. Right from the start, I could tell she was more than a little bit drunk. She likes to drink schnapps and water, usually one. But that night I could tell it had been more, a lot more. I asked her if she had a big day at work. She said giggling, ”Not as big as I had tonight.” I started to get hard just in anticipation of a great story. She asked if I remembered one of the guys who keeps touching her breasts? I said yes. He’s an intern graduate student we both know, who is about three years older than she is. He is from England, very smooth, intellectual and worldly. Swooner of the women in our small hometown. She told me he took her to the bar after working until about 10:30 on a news story they were co-authoring. So in my head, I figure she has spent the better part of four hours out drinking with the guy and this is going to be a great story. “Did you have some fun,” I asked. Hoping to move her story along a little quicker. “Shhh...,” she said, hushing me, I thought. Then I heard a noise away from the phone, like a beer can opening. Then she said to me that they did have a lot of fun and started to describe in detail her evening with him as he steadily moved closer to her and touched her arm, brushed the hair from her face, and let his hand drift down the front of her blouse brushing her cleavage and then over her nipple. She said she really enjoyed the fact that he was trying hard to get her and let him do bit more. I asked her what she meant. She told me that after a while she went to the ladies room and took off her bra. I asked her, “What shirt were you wearing? “You know that one you bought me that is really loose and plunges low.” So now here she was braless and I know when she wears it for me, if she leans forward at all, you can see everything and there is easy access to touch and feel her breasts. I had to know where this story was going and it was getting so hot for me I started to play with my growing erection. “Well, that must have been fun to tease him a bit,” as I egged her story on as I figured this story was really becoming overly embellished. But I went with it. As they say, “A willing suspension of disbelief.” Then she told me, “It was fun,” she told me in a breathless whisper. “It was even more fun for him because he accidentally got his hand inside my shirt and touched my nipples and rubbed my breasts.” I was suddenly shocked as the stories had never taken a full turn to openly being felt up like that in a public bar. She admitted it had made her feel very aroused. But she was a little worried and decided she needed to get home. She told me he gave her a ride home and just wanted to tell me everything because it was fun to share stories with me. It was true, I really did like her stories, we both did. So I couldn’t resist. Since she was home now, since she was safe in her apartment, since I could tell she wanted to tell me more of her embellished story. I asked her if there was more to her story. She told me of course there is more. “He took me home and helped me get into my apartment and kissed me hard and felt my breasts after he pulled up my shirt. It felt like it went on forever, at least I wanted it to go on forever until I realized I hadn’t told you about my day and you hadn’t had your story yet.” I was really enjoying this story as I was now completely hard and loving every sentence of her story. She was such a good writer and story teller. I begged her to tell me more. “So I called you to tell you everything,” she said. “So just imagine how amazing it was for me to tease him by pulling away from him after he has had his hands and lips on my breasts and nipples.” “And just imagine how, while I am talking to you, he tries again and I hush him to be quiet while he makes another pass at me. So he grabs a beer and listens to me talk to you about my night with him. “So just imagine how hot I am right now watching him here drinking a beer and jeans so swelled full that I can see he has a huge cock.” She starts to stumble in telling her story as I her the noise of shuffling clothing. She comes back and tells me, “I think he wants me to take a shower with him.” I hear the shower come on and I figure this story has come complete with a played out fantasy scene. I hear her put the phone down. The shower is noisy but I hear her as she tells me more over the noise. How he is getting her wet, soaping her body, touching her breasts and plunging deep with his fingers into her open slickness. Then I hear a deep guttural moan. It sounds like her when she cums, but more and I just pass it off as nothing as the phone must be some distance from her in the shower. Then I hear the shower stop and she picks up the phone again. “So just imagine honey, he gave me an orgasm with his fingers and now he is drying me off while I’m on the phone with you. You know what honey? He is so big down there and I am still teasing him while I let him dry me off.” I hear the towel rubbing her body as she acts out her story. I am really into this now and want it to last right to the end. I pleased she is enjoying it too. So I urge her on wondering how she will tease him completely, or send him on his way, leaving him hard. She never has gone this far in any of her stories and I assume this ends wonderfully as well, for us both, coming hard together. “What are going to do?” “I don’t know honey.” “You are still naked with him?” “Yes” “He’s huge and hard.” “What are you going to do? What is he doing to you now?” She willing continues with her story. I can hear her clearly now as the phone is back in her hand. “Honey, he is picking me up and carrying me to my bedroom. What do I do?” So now she is turning to me to collaborate with her on the story, to help her along with her own lust, it just her sharing the moment of this fantastic storyline of lust between us. So I decide to join in and ramp it up a little. “I don’t know. Do you have a choice? Can you get away from him? Do you want to get away from him? I wish I was there to make a photo of you with him.” At that moment I think she really starts to ramp it up too. I hear her moan a little and she is now breathing hard. Her breathing continues to increase and I am wondering if she has forgotten me as drunk as she seemed. I loved listening to her passion. Then she’s back again. I hear her say, “Not yet, just wait a minute.” I hear the phone go to speaker. You know it sounds different, distant and hollow. “Honey, are you there?” She says she doesn’t have a choice she can’t escape him, that she doesn’t want to escape him. She goes on to say after a few more minutes of her deep breathing, “I think he deserves me for all my teasing. He has been so patient, waiting while we talked. He is still hard honey, he is so big. I need this.” So I just imagine there she is, in her apartment, naked on her bed with her imaginary lover sharing this moment, this story, with me for our pleasure together. This so much fun, completely full of lust, I tell her I understand. That she should enjoy it and let things happen naturally. But before I get all the words out of my mouth she is moaning loud enough I don’t think she heard a word. “Honey he is licking my pussy and I... I am ... I am so wet... Oh My..mmmmm. Fuck me, please fuck me now,” she is begging him.’’ I can’t believe it. This goes on for a few minutes until the phone gets bumped from her activeness on the bed. It sound funny like an echo. I start to imaging the echo is the imaginary guy and they are breathing alternately in rhythm with the rhythm of the movement of the bed. “Fuck me,” she pleads again and again. It’s weird when she talks it doesn’t echo, there is only one voice. I was still too caught up to take that much notice until she starts talking again. “Honey he is going to put it in me. It is so big. Are you sure this is ok?” “Yes. Let him have you. I know, I can tell you want this.” There clearly is only one voice and I can still hear the other breathing. Then I hear a a man’s voice whisper. “You need to pay attention to me, concentrate, so you can relax and I can get this thing inside you. You want this...don’t you.” Then I her another whisper, her whisper, “Yessss, oh please fuck me.” I am faced with the shock of realization, it is no longer a story but a real life actual happening. I go completely limp in a second. I am scared I have lost her. My gut tightens and I am now calling out for her. But the phone is now full of the sound of two people in the beginnings of love making. I begin to hear the bed moving and her breathing is becoming heavy she is nearing a climax, and she fully vocalizes it. I can see him, her imaginary, now fully real lover, plunging his huge cock into her pussy. Over and over, deeper and deeper. The phone falls but it must have fallen on the bed because now I can hear their bodies slap against each other. Again she reaches another orgasm, a bigger one. She is moaning more and more in rhythm with his motion. I can tell they no longer care if the phone is on or off. I listen and I realize I am hard again and almost ready to cum too. I sense she is about to reach another when he tells her don’t cum yet. He thrusts hard into her. I can hear the bed hit the wall. “I need to cum,” she says. He drives into her again, “Not yet.” The bed hit the wall again and again, faster and faster, over and over as the bed sounds like it is smashing into the wall with great force. “Please make me cum.” Again he says, “Not yet.” He is plunging into her about once every four or five-seconds, holding her on the verge of an orgasmic delirium. I suddenly notice I am in rhythm with him fucking her, and I am now sure they can both hear my breathing with their phone still on speaker. I know they can hear me pumping to his rhythm. I am joining him in fucking her. I feel for a moment as he continues to deny her orgasm that we are somehow doing it together. But a light shines inside me and it becomes obvious to me now he is not just fucking her. He is fucking her and controlling us both as I am joining his rhythm and moaning with her and suddenly I realize I am saying please let her cum asking him to let us both cum. He plunges into her again and again, “Not yet.” It’s easy to tell now that he means both of us. His speed increases, the bed hit the wall over and over. She is now pleading for relief and at the peak of his speed he says, “Now, baby. Come for me baby.” She goes ballistic as I hear the shakiness of her voice and I follow with her as he leads the way. I hear them both breathing as they calm down. In a minute or so. She pick up the phone and says she hopes I enjoyed her little story and tells me good night. In the next few weeks she tells me more and more stories of the two of them being together. All of the stories presented to me as if as a fantacy. But I can tell the stories are all live performances and he becomes more careless with his commands of her. Last night he told her to tell me not to touch myself and not to come until she s ok. I obey, listening as he fucks her mindless three times, not allowing me to come at all.