cell phone

"Waterproof, shockproof, and boredom-proof..." That's how my phone advertises itself.
Wearing this slim, compact phone like a necklace around my neck is not only convenient but also cool and stylish. I really should
thank the person who thought of this "little brother"; without it, I wouldn't be having such a pleasant day.
A few hours ago, I was getting ready to go out because today was my date with him. It
only happens once a week, but I've used the other six days to look forward to and savor this day without hesitation
.
No need to bother choosing; of course, I'll wear his favorite lingerie: purple, with wavy lace trim and
openwork rose patterns. The bra is a demi-cup, front-closure, with detachable straps. The cups just barely cover the nipples,
but don't completely conceal the upper areola. I especially love its built-in intelligent memory wire; it always remembers
the curve , lifting and shaping them to make them firmer and the cleavage deeper.
The matching underwear, like my phone, was light, thin, short, and small, often giving me
the illusion that I wasn't wearing any. The crotch was an inverted triangle with a sharp apex, the isosceles lines converging from the hip bones along
the curve . The back, however, was just a line buried in the flesh,
seemingly offering no coverage beyond connecting to the waist.
The gossamer-thin fabric, combined with the openwork pattern, revealed tangled body hair, some even sticking out
. But he considerately said it looked more natural and sexy this way, and didn't want me to trim the messy hair.
I liked wearing it and admiring myself in the full-length mirror; but honestly, I wouldn't wear
it on ordinary days! I only wore it for him; I loved seeing his adoring gaze. I hadn't even let my husband see me wearing
this lingerie set. Maybe he would be just as captivated, but I always felt he was the only one with that right.
I also chose that loose, pale yellow sweater, paired with a mini black leather skirt, making me look both elegant and charming
. He always liked to slip his hand under my clothes in the dark of the movie theater, oblivious to everyone else. A loose-fitting, short skirt
would more convenient and less likely to be noticed.
Everything was ready; I was just waiting for my phone to ring, for his voice to come through: "...I'm
waiting for you at the convenience store on the corner..."
Time ticked by, and I grew impatient. I turned the phone's ringtone and vibration to maximum and
hung it around my neck. That way, I'd know immediately when he called and answer
before . I didn't want him... or me to wait even a second longer.
The sudden ring and vibration, filled with joy, made me answer without hesitation. But the familiar voice said:
"...I'm sorry! My wife insisted I go with her today...I can't come...Oh! My wife's coming...
I'll call you back later...Bye...Beep...Beep..."
I didn't know whether I should cry. I could understand our abnormal relationship; this situation
was bound to happen sooner or later. I just didn't want to think about it too much, and I never imagined that avoiding the problem would lead to
my helplessness .
Time ticked by. From our accidental encounter, our first coffee together, our first
movie together, our first intimate moment… I couldn't recall any other memory that evoked this pain and helplessness.
But this twist of fate made me realize that even in moments of pleasure, there was deception and the sin of indulgence, and I began
to reflect on the potential, invisible harm I might be causing my husband and his wife. I've always known it was
wrong , but I couldn't suppress the yearning within me.
'…' My phone rang again, jolting me from my reverie. My instinctive reaction was to answer,
but I hesitated. I thought, maybe I should make him wait a little longer—after all, he disappointed me; maybe I
should occasionally refuse him, to avoid him thinking I was too promiscuous; maybe I should keep him in suspense, to test if he
truly cared; maybe I could compare his patience in waiting for the phone with his
stamina in bed…
…Three rings…five rings…eight rings… He was still waiting for me to answer, so touching that I couldn't bear to keep
him waiting. But I inadvertently discovered that when the phone vibrated against my chest, it gave me a strange
feeling. The continuous vibration felt like his hand gently caressing me, a ticklish sensation, a sense of satisfaction and anticipation as passion
began to unfold .
I couldn't help but press the phone slightly harder against my breast, making the vibration more intense. I could
clearly feel my breasts trembling along with it. I was certain that the speed of the phone's vibration was incredibly
pleasurable , something he, with his flesh and blood, could never do.
Suddenly, the ringing stopped, and the vibration ceased. I felt as if everything around me had frozen
in that instant, a profound silence settling over
me. A feeling of emptiness, melancholy, confusion, and bewilderment washed over me.
Time ticked by. I complained to him, wondering why he hadn't waited a little longer, let the phone ring a few more times;
or even dialed again. I imagined countless reasons why he shouldn't call again, and I even fantasized that maybe
my phone would ring again in the next second. Vaguely, I felt I had stopped expecting him to call; all
I cared about was my phone ringing again.
Time ticked by, but there was still no sound. Impatiently, I glanced around unconsciously. Suddenly, I
noticed the phone on the tea table beside me, and an idea flashed into my mind. I turned off the ringer, left it on vibrate
, locked the buttons, picked up the landline, dialed a familiar number, and then put the receiver aside.
Just as I sat down, my phone started vibrating again, but I didn't answer. I even
tucked it my clothes. The cold phone seemed to vibrate even more excitedly, occasionally playfully brushing against my slightly swollen nipples,
cleverly teasing my emotions. I felt a raging fire burning inside me, causing my body temperature to rise continuously.
My mouth was dry, my heart was pounding, and my breathing was rapid.
I took off my sweater, trying to cool my burning skin, and grabbed
the phone . I gently pressed the cool body of the phone against my nipple; the monotonous vibration
was more intoxicating than any rubbing, kneading, pinching, or flicking.
I manipulated the phone's movements on my body, closing my eyes and imagining it kissing my lips and cheeks;
rubbing my breasts and cleaving my lower abdomen and thighs…
I might moan aloud; or I might not.
I felt a stirring in my lower abdomen; I knew my groin would begin to moisten, and my underwear would become wet.
It was sticky and uncomfortable. But I was unwilling to stop and start cleaning and wiping; after all
, he couldn't see me today, so it didn't matter if it got dirty.
I tried placing the phone between my breasts, squeezing them inward with both hands, just like I used to hold his
manhood.
"Oh!" His thrusting couldn't compare to this skin-to-skin vibration. The phone's vibration seemed to stimulate every nerve, every crease in
my breasts , making them feel endlessly swollen,
numbing and suffocating.
I knew the wetness between my legs had already soaked through my underwear, flowing down my buttocks and skirt, and showing no
signs .
A surge of curiosity, a desire to try something new, and a yearning made me move the phone closer to my abdomen. As the irresistible
vibration drew nearer, waves of heat surged through my body like a bursting dam.
I thought, my underwear is soaked through, as if it were in water. I think even if my phone wasn't waterproof or
mudproof, I would still press it firmly against my wet crotch without hesitation.
"Oh!" The phone's buttons conveniently performed their function, the slightly concave and convex surfaces gliding over my sensitive
area; the stimulation was so intense it made me tremble involuntarily.
I pulled my panties aside, letting the phone press unobstructed against my most private parts. I
rotated the phone, enjoying the different sensations produced by each angle of contact with different parts of my body. I thought,
if the phone could feel, it wouldn't care that it was soaking wet and sticky; it would also feel excitement, arousal, and happiness.
Perhaps, this enviable phone was eager to explore the mysterious honeypot!
"No! You can't fit it in..." I communicated with the phone with a mix of sarcasm and reassurance; but I also
tacitly allowed the bottom and curved corners of the phone to press against the honeypot's entrance. The phone, as if unable to enter,
vibrated even more intensely in its anxiety.
"Ah!" I leaned the phone against my lower body, its right angle pressing against the entrance of my vagina, and gently swayed it from side to side.
I knew it had gone in a little bit; its vibrational energy traveled along the vaginal walls, rushing to the top of my head, and then
through the nerve endings to every cell in my body, delivering this intoxicating sensation.
Perhaps, no matter how hard I tried to arch my back and twist, I couldn't
push .
Gradually, the churning in my lower abdomen became more and more obvious and intense. I felt as if my body was synchronized with the speed of
the phone 's vibration; I felt as if I and the phone had become one.
Then… maybe… I screamed wildly… maybe… I had inserted the phone inside me…
maybe… I don't remember… I really don't remember…
I only know that when I slowly regained consciousness, I glimpsed the phone lying on the ground, still seemingly vibrating with lingering pleasure
, but I didn't have the strength to turn it off.
"Waterproof, shockproof, boredom-proof…" Who says advertisements are all lies!

URL 1:https://www.sexlove5.com/htmlBlog/199829.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=199829&aspx=1

Previous Page : Fetishism and slut

Next Page : Playing horseback riding with mom

增加

comment Open a new window to view comments

Contact Information

cell phone

comment Open a new window to view comments