by Aida Ito & George Tosca
(12/12/07)

He loosens his tie and rolls up his sleeves, revealing sleek, muscled forearms and delicate wrists. He readjusts his glasses and sighs into the phone, pushing the heap of spiral notebooks to one side of the desk. It's almost midnight.

He speaks. "Take your shirt off. I want you to be a slut for me. I want you to roll each nipple between your fingers. And I don't want your hands anywhere near your pussy until I tell you." His voice, normally soft, even a bit feminine, gets low and scratchy. The bureau's been swamped with requests for copy, they haven't seen each other for weeks, and this is what it's come to -- her, naked in front of a camera, straining her hips upward in time to his words.

"Here's what I want," he says. She looks up, eyes wide. "Bring the camera down so it's facing your legs. I want your hands to move up your thighs. Inside, close, near your underwear, but never past the tops of your thighs. Now, without touching yourself, I want you to turn around and show me your pussy." His lip curls as her pubic hair comes into view.

"Keep the camera on your cunt and spread yourself, but never put a finger near it." His voice gets huskier with every word. He adjusts his glasses again and rolls his shoulders, knotted after a long day in front of the keyboard. "Spread your legs for me. Move back. Let me see your little pussy." She's dripping, waiting for instructions and the start of the story.

"Don't touch. I'm going to tell you what I've been dreaming about. When you want, you can beg me and maybe I'll let you touch yourself...if you're lucky." She whimpers and feigns a pout. He takes his cock in his hands, fingering the shaft.

"We're doing a story together on sex scandals in the Korean pop world, and the biggest star -- a famous womanizer -- has agreed to do an exclusive interview with you. But he needs it to stay quiet, since he's telling a lot of secrets, and he'll only meet at his house."

She nods, arching her back and running immaculately manicured fingernails over the curve of one pert, cream-colored breast.

"Wait," she says. "This is important."

"What?" he replies impatiently, driven half-mad by the high-definition breasts on his screen. So many pixels, such high bandwidth...but nothing could replace actually feeling her hard nipples between his fingers.

"Okay, so -- do I actually have a job? Or am I stringing, or just helping you?"

"You're a fucking Pulitzer Prize winner, okay?"

"No -- I'm serious."

He growls. "You have a job. You have a job at the New York Times. Everyone in the office wants to fuck you or fuck you over. All right?"

She leans back and cups her breasts playfully. He grabs himself tightly and continues. "We call him up and tell him we'll come to his place. It's near the park, and..."

"Are you wearing glasses?"

"Yes, I'm wearing glasses. If you say another word your cunt stays lonely tonight."

She purses her soft, crimsoned lips as he continues.

"He insists that you come first and that I show up later. It's fine by me; New York needs me to finish the Daewoo merger piece, and I don't have much time for this Korean pop idol. So I agree to come later, and take the subway down to Cheongdam after I file. I call up your cell phone to let me in, but you're not answering, so I wave to the doorman and let myself in, up the escalator and down a long corridor to the apartment. Rent here's got to be more than we make in a year, but the place is teeming thanks to the Korean teenybopper contingent. I walk inside and look around. It's opulent but restrained, in such good taste. Everything's steel and marble -- sort of like the star himself. When I walk into the living room, my heart skips a beat."

He stops stroking himself for a second and grips the receiver a bit tighter. His lips are moving close to the phone, brushing the cold plastic. She sighs breathily, fingers rubbing her inner thigh.

"You're there with the pop star. He's wearing a gray, silvery suit, but the jacket's thrown aside, a thin black tie is pulled low around his neck, and you're sitting there, your hair down out of its bun. Your blouse is unbuttoned, breasts hanging out, and your hand reaching down his pants -- suit pants, tight in all the right places."

He sighs for a moment, distracted. She stops rubbing, annoyed, a bit of dark hair falling over one eye as she frowns. He notices, and his voice drops back to a dark, hoarse whisper.

"Before you notice me, I can see your hand shoved down his underwear -- your fist, pumping the bulge. I'm horrified. My chest hurts. I stammer something, and the two of you look up. Your hand darts out of his pants, but your breasts are still hanging out, your nipples hard and your chest red. I'm crushed, furious." His voice lowers as she kneads her pussy, blushing and imagining the transgression.

"You try to stammer an apology and so does he, but you're frozen, and he can't even speak English. Your eyes are begging forgiveness, and you have a tear at the corner of one. You try to cover up, your hands moving to cup your breasts, but you're not even sure who you're hiding them from. The room is silent. I can hear the clock ticking, traffic outside. Both of you are still breathing hard -- his hair is mussed and his hard muscles are tense. I walk up to you slowly, looking you in the eye. I put my hand on your shoulder, and grab tight. You worry I'll slap you, scream at you, cry -- but nothing. My eyes are just burning."

"I turn to the K-Pop star, who's staring at the ground, shamed. I gesture to him to pull off his pants -- no humor in my eyes, no warmth, nothing. Your breasts are still heaving, your limbs tingling. His pants drop to his ankles. He unbuttons the rest of his shirt, revealing abs tight from dancing. His underwear comes off next, and now he's exposed -- and hard."

She lets out a moan, and he watches two fingers slide into her pussy.

"You knew exactly what was there -- you had your hands there a moment ago -- but you'd never seen it. The perfect muscles between his hips lead down to a beautiful cock, longer than you imagined, and thick. He's sitting there, and despite his raging vanity his pretty little Gwaneum face has turned red. He's embarrassed beyond his wildest dreams as his balls tighten up against his hard body.

"You have tears in your eyes now. You're not sure where to put your hands, and you fold them across your breasts, humiliated. You watch as I walk up to the star, and place a hand on his thigh. Then, surprising you, my hand moves straight to his cock. I take it into my hand, squeezing, my eyes never leaving yours.

"'Is this what you wanted?' I ask, my hand pumping once down his shaft. You're silent, eyes turned downwards. The star himself is looking away, but his hardness betrays him. He's got a drop of precome that squeezes from the tip of his cock and drips down, and I trace a line up from the middle of his balls up the bottom.

"'Is it?' I ask again. You start to protest, to say something, anything, but your throat is dry. I rub my finger around the tip, and swirl it round and round. You're silent.

"Suddenly I grab your hair and tug you onto your knees, pulling your head towards his cock. You don't know what to do. Your lips are tight as you move down his shaft. Your cheeks are burning as his cock slides down your throat. You gag a little. It's thick, so big, and your saliva drips down his shaft and onto his legs. I've got one hand on his balls, another grabbing him and feeling your lips as you suck him off. My hand slides up and down; you're slurping with wet eyes, your mouth full. His head is back, and he's moaning -- it feels like the only sound in the world. I tell you to take your clothes off, to strip and show yourself to us, and pull off my own pants.

"My hand is still on the star's cock while you sit on the black leather couch in front of us, unbuttoning the rest of your cream-colored blouse, your head hung low. I take his hand and move it to my cock, and now we're grabbing each other, looking at you. He still looks humiliated, but he rubs my shaft while you strip down to your panties. They're so wet we can see the black of your pubic hair through them. Your stomach is tight and your legs cross and uncross; each time they open we can see the folds of your cunt through the thin fabric. But you can't get yourself to take off your panties, no matter what you do. You've never felt this humiliated, this terrified at being turned on.

"'Come here,' I say a little more gently. I pull you to your knees, and pull your panties off, throwing them aside. Your lips move around my shaft while the singer guides me in. It's more familiar this time -- the salt, the sweat, the little drips of precome that sting your throat. I'm dying from the sensation and I'm not going to hold back, knowing that there will be more. You bob up and down, and soon I flood your mouth, the star's hands tightening around me. I'm filling your mouth, and your head feels light -- I tell you not to swallow, though, to wait. You sit there with my cock in your mouth, still moving it in and out, the come cupped in your mouth. I push your head back and pull out, my cock still hard. I look at the two of you. 'You wanted to be with a star?' I ask with a sneer. 'Be with a star.'

"I push the two of you together and you start kissing, he more eagerly than you had imagined. Your mouth is salty and wet, dripping with come. By now, you can't be humiliated anymore. Your lips meet, and your tongues, and I watch the come roll off yours and onto his. You're tearing at each other now, faces sticky, and his fingers move towards your pussy, brushing the hair and parting your lips.

"I'm sitting back with my hand on my cock, recovering but in charge, ready to give you commands. I watch you kissing and sucking at each other, his fingers probing your cunt. Your mouth is still bitter from the taste of me.

"He slides off you, moving down your chest, my come heavy in his mouth as he trails down your body -- down your neck, your nipples, down your stomach, toward your cunt, which already feels swollen. All you can see of him is the tall puff of bleached hair as he lowers himself to start lapping your pussy."

Her head is thrown back, her cheeks flushed. She's rubbing slowly on her clit, spread out in front of the webcam imagining herself with two men at once, being licked by a beautiful stranger. She hears him cough lightly, and he continues.

"But you know, your fancy star isn't that good. You wonder how many women he's actually been with. His licks are too strong, or too light. But he learns, adjusting as you bob back and forth on his face. And then I'm standing up again, growing hard, my balls dangling near your mouth. You start to suck, reveling in how much you love it -- all while you melt into the licks bathing your pussy.

"I'm hard, ready to be in you. I pull your hair back and whisper in your ear, telling you you're my little slut, mine alone, and that you're a shameless whore."

The raw, husky voice on the other end of the line, one that has whispered in her ear so many nights, licking her earlobes and biting the bit of flesh that joins the shoulder and neck, that voice is driving her absolutely mad.

"The star starts to pull away from your cunt, deferentially, but I tell him to stay. I shove his head against you. I want him to lick until you're raw.

"I slide you back on the leather couch, and he moves aside so I can aim my cock at your cunt while his tongue laps on you. He places a tentative lick on me, then tongues us both as I press into you. Your heart is pounding. You look down to see your legs spread, me fucking you, his tongue is moving all over me, all over the length of my shaft and your glistening pussy. I'm pushing in now, spreading you, and his mouth moves down to my balls, licking and sucking, then back up to your clit.

"We start to move with each other, you and I. The star is enjoying it, a grin on his face. He's enjoying your taste and mine, the smell of cunt and the taste of come, and you can feel him growing hard, too. You want his cock, my cock, everything.

"You take him in your hands while your head rolls back and your breasts bounce with each of our thrusts.

"He feels so good, so hard in your fist. You spit in your hands and pump him while you feel yourself being filled up with me. You're going to come, soon, soon, you can feel it starting, rolling in your thighs.

"But I stop moving and shake my head, frowning. I tell you that you should be ashamed. I beckon to the star and take his cock in my own hand again.

"'If you can't get enough,' I say, shocked at myself but with a wicked little smile, 'then you're going to get too much.'

"The star is watching us, his cock hard and straining. I pull out of you and back onto the couch, pulling you on top of me. My hands are on your tits as I slide back into you. I give the star a view of your spread legs, your pert asshole and my cock parting you, fucking you from below."

He watches on screen as she arches her back and moans, her small hands sliding on her pussy. He readjusts himself in the office chair, his raging erection making it impossible to be comfortable in any position.

She sighs, the sheet caught between her legs. Her eyes are closed and her lips are slack and wet.

"I rub your clit and thrust, but then I grab the star's cock again, marveling at his hardness. I'm jealous: he's a little thicker, but it doesn't matter. The air around us feels conspiratorial, the room seems to glow with the reek of sex. We glance knowingly at each other, knowing how much we're going to make you scream. I spit on my hands, stroking his shaft and watching his knees buckle. I feel the slick of his precome on my fingertips.

"I gesture for him to move himself between your ass cheeks. I finger your ass for a moment, and then his cock. He starts to lunge for your ass, but I'm not about to let that happen. Stop -- I grunt, and he goes motionless.

"He can have you, but only on my terms. Wordlessly, I put my fingers into your cunt right along with my cock and stretch you, making room for him. You've never felt anything like this.

"Before you can scream, his cock tip is squeezing into you, crowded against my cock. You feel your cunt stretch, and stretch more...and there he is.

"The two cocks press against each other. We're both leaking into you, filling you, our balls are pressed together, wet with your juices. You barely move, scared of breaking, or coming -- or both -- so we take turns thrusting inside you. I pump and then he does. I feel the wet of your cunt, the slippery hard of my cock pressed against his.

"When I move, your clit buzzes. When he thrusts, you go wild with pain and excitement. We both want to come, so badly, so badly. Everything is a blur. All you can feel is two cocks stretching you. I reach down to feel the three of us -- his thick shaft, my long cock, your dripping pussy, the stickiness of our balls bouncing against your dripping cunt."

On screen, she's reached one hand around to play with her asshole, her head pressed against the pillows. As her fingers dart in and out of her pussy, she starts to gasp. His words come faster and faster. Her whole body starts to shiver.

The words tumble out. "All of a sudden, you feel it. Usually you can't feel it when the come rushes into you, just that pulse, that tensing, that release. But with the two of us stretching you, everything is so sensitized that when he comes it feels like a flood. The come streams down your legs, mats your pubic hair, slicks my stomach. You're screaming, he's screaming. He bucks and spasms on your ass..."

She comes violently, her back arched, one hand in herself behind and the other vibrating on her clit.

She looses a small moan. He watches on camera as her breasts heave, and he imagines for a moment that he is buried inside her, and that he can feel every pulse of her cunt on his cock, her body quaking beneath his, her breasts brushing his chest, her sighs in his ears. He looks down at his lonely cock, clamped in his hand as if he wished to give it comfort.

He gives her a moment to come down, watching as her body pulses in the green glow of the computer screen. He twists his head to check once more that the office door is indeed locked.

She opens her eyes, bright with post-orgasmic haze.

"Well," she says from halfway around the world. "I guess it's my turn to talk."

Our permanent collection of erotic stories