Such a Good Boy: The Phone Call and a Face Fucking

I’m really excited to share this blog with you, it’s D34U’s next installment of his love letter to his wife. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

To hear the audio version read by me, click play:

It’s the morning after your first threesome. Two men, your husband and a friend you’ve been dreaming about for months, gave you the thrill of a lifetime. You had imagined it would be enough for you, that having all your holes stuffed repeatedly would satisfy you for weeks. But the experience has left you tingling all over, eager for more, so much more.

Sipping your morning tea, you reminisce about meeting your friend at the restaurant. You remember his beautiful eyes, flirting with him for the first time. You think about the woman in the red silk dress, Elizabeth, whom you met in the restroom. She left you her business card with a request- “Call me,” she said.

Would today be too soon, you wonder? Her business-like attitude was an inspiration when it came time for you to rip open your shirt and take what you wanted, what you needed. So, you ask yourself, what would Elizabeth do? She would pick up the phone and call the next day.

She picks up on the second ring, greeting you by name.

“How did it go with Brad?”

You’re startled. “How do you know my name? His name?” you ask.

There’s a slight pause on her end as she speaks to someone nearby. Could it be her silver-haired companion from the restaurant? You can hear birds chirping in the background and you try to picture where she might be taking the call.

“I don’t give my number out to just anyone, Darling!” she says with a chuckle. “Only real people, good people like yourself. Now tell me what happened, and don’t spare the details! Spill!”

For some reason, it feels entirely natural to tell her everything. You wonder how you could say such things to a perfect stranger. But as you picture the woman you met in the restaurant bathroom, you realise she’s exactly the type of person to whom you would confess your sins.

You recount how you began the session, boldly ripping open your blouse for them, she applauds you for your courage. Walking her through the day’s events, you try to skim over some of the more salacious bits. But she keeps stopping you, making you backtrack and give intimate, step-by-step specifics about your experience.

Whenever you reach a point in the story where you had an orgasm, she slows you down, asking you to paint her a picture of exactly what did it for you. 

Her questions are probing, cutting through the particulars to reach the heart of what really got you off. “How did your husband react? How did Brad’s cock feel in your mouth? Your cunt? What was your favorite moment?”

Recalling it is making you wet. Unbidden, your hand moves beneath your robe. Your swollen clit absolutely sings when you touch it. Clearing your throat, you continue the story.

When you get to the part where both men took you at once, Elizabeth’s questions become shorter and more breathless. “And then?,” she asks, her voice slightly quavering. You describe how Brad lost control, thrusting deeply in your ass while you reached an uncontrollable climax yourself. There’s a long pause on her end. You listen closely.

The bird sounds are still there, but there’s another, familiar, rhythmic wet sound. You hear a second voice- soft, feminine moans, someone with their mouth full. Elizabeth’s breath catches as she groans loudly into the phone. 

She wants you to hear this. The pause goes on for another ten seconds, twenty. Then Elizabeth lets out a sudden gasp. Her long, luxurious moan fills your ear and you desperately wish you were there to witness it in-person. More to the point, you are jealous of the person making her come.

You hear her trying to catch her breath, smaller moans escaping her lips. Then she laughs. It is the most gorgeous, musical tone. It thrills you to have this effect on her. She seems giddy with excitement as she says, “I knew it! I knew you were one of us! I was right about you, after all.” Before you can process the phrase, “one of us,” she continues.

“My Dear, I’m inviting you to an orgy with only the best people. It’s in two weeks. You’ll get an invite in the mail. You. Absolutely. Will. Come.” Then she hangs up. 

You stare at your phone for a moment. How could she know you would say yes? But you’re beginning to realize Elizabeth knows more about you than perhaps she should.

Just then, your husband walks in from the bedroom. He sees the phone in your hand, your open robe, and the sticky string of wetness between your fingers. You look up at him, keeping eye contact while you lick the juices from your fingers one by one.

“Come here. Now!” you whisper. He obeys.

You grab a handful of his curly hair and gently drag him towards the bedroom. Once you reach the bed, you release your grip on his hair and say, “Mouth. Now!”

He assumes the Position: facing up, head dangling over the edge of the bed at crotch level. Opening your robe, you mount his upside-down face, smearing your wetness all over it.

After a few moments, you step back, looking down at him, enjoying the sloppy mess you’ve made. His eyes are closed and he looks as if he’s having the most wonderful dream, mouth open, tongue eager for more. Easing yourself back onto his mouth, you put your hands on his chest for support, pinching and caressing his nipples.

You face fuck him vigorously, grinding your pussy into his mouth. You thrust your pelvis forwards and back in long strokes, your clit traveling from his nose to his mouth, to his chin and back. He struggles with his zipper, trying to release his suddenly erect cock.

He so enjoys being your fuck toy! But who wouldn’t? You’re sexy as fuck and you know it. Anyone would be lucky to be in his place right now.

You wonder if Elizabeth will ruin your face like this. You picture yourself in his position, Elizabeth in yours, your tongue probing, seeking only to serve. You remember her moans during the phone call, imagine yourself as the one causing those sounds.

And an orgy! All those luscious tits in your hands and mouth. You wonder how many cocks you will taste as you glance down at your husband’s, his gentle stroking now building into a slow rhythm. These thoughts drive you into a final, mouth-fucking frenzy, and you ride his face for two more glorious minutes.

He grabs your ass with both hands, caressing, squeezing, and pulling along with your motion, letting you grind out all your frustrations, all your fears, anxieties, and inhibitions, even your anger. He’ll lick all the negative emotions out of you, leaving only silence, calm, and orgasm.

You’re so close. You look at his ridgid dick, oozing precum like a volcano, and that’s enough to trigger you. You feel your clit momentarily catch on the tip of his tongue and that does it.

A burst of light fills your mind, flashing images of her- her brown eyes looking at you over her shoulder at the restaurant. You remember her voice on the phone, her gasps. The moan that escapes you sounds like hers in your ears, making you come even harder. As trembling waves spasm throughout your body, you praise your toy for releasing your tension, saying “Good boy! Good boy! Just. Like. That. Unhhh!”

Dismounting, you look down at his face, dripping with slobber and pussy juice. He looks so sexy like this!

“Such a good little fuck-toy,” you say, reaching down to stroke his hair, “you deserve a treat!” He grins wide, wiping your lovely mess from his eyes so he can look up at you.

You crawl up onto the bed, feeling the fan’s breeze on your wetness. Lying on your side, you pull a pillow under your head. Your lips part as he slides his cock in until it fills your mouth.

You both lie as still as possible. He doesn’t thrust, you just gently suck and slowly, ever so slowly, move your tongue up and down the front of his aching dick. Just lying there, your eyes closed, a mouth full of throbbing flesh. It’s so pleasant you let out a soft moan of appreciation.

Your mind instantly returns to the phone conversation, of course. Her invitation captivates you- the boldness of it, her knowing your answer without asking, the possibilities that await you, the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that you will absolutely take. Yes, please! Oh god, yes! But how could you go through with something like this? But holy mother of fuck, how could you not?

Your mouth is full with saliva and precum, so you inhale deeply through your nose and swallow. He groans, begging you to milk him as he grips your ponytail tightly at the base of your skull. But you only look up at him, grinning with your eyes. Not yet, my Good Boy, you think. Let him squirm awhile longer.

Five whole minutes later, you suck hard, pulling him slowly from your mouth. Caressing his balls, you lick the length of his dick like a quickly melting ice cream cone, looking into his eyes with an adoration he knows is genuine. Upward licks only, focusing your attention on the front, you make a show of it, locking eyes with him. When it shoots onto your face seconds later, you engulf him and suck deep.

You empty his balls completely, his cum running down your chin as you swallow hard, struggling to keep up with each squirt. His last ejaculation shoots down your throat and you suck, holding him in your mouth for another minute while he lies trembling on his side.

You reach up to his face, pulling him down into a sticky kiss. You make out for several minutes while he reaches down to finger your wet hole. Your clit is so sensitive, you struggle at his touch. But he pins your arms above your head and continues rubbing it. With his tongue in your mouth, you give yourself over to the quickly building thrill between your legs.

He’s such a Good Boy!