I wanted to put the phone down. But my will power was sapping, my mind desperate to watch the sex show on stage.
It would be immoral. It would break an unspoken promise between two people. Could I do it?
My eyes flickered up from the screen, glancing at the vibrant throes of passion: the shouting, the squealing, the orgasming from the rhythmic motions.
The girl at the centre of the throng of gentlemen was enjoying herself, as were the dozens of men, taking their turns in ravaging the beauty until her skin glistened with cum.
Sure, that was an erection causer.
So were the hoards of mostly naked waiters and waitresses, squirming their ways into the revellers concentration with seductive flirting and overfamiliar hands. They were awesome: sliding onto my lap to deposit a drink and subtly feeling my erection through my trousers. Many offered more, if I was willing to pay more than a tip.
But then there were the guests; I had a bisexual pair to my left, feeling and groping each other, as the two girls eyed me repeatedly. Sexy, smart and salacious, they made out as they made repeated whispered promises to me.
I was torn. They were gorgeous and regular visitors to the sex club, and I loved their inflamed desires. I wanted to fuck them both, ramming my cock into the brunette as the blonde kissed my balls. I was desperate for it. And they offered my fantasies to me, in a hotel room next door.
But she was the wife of my friend; and he thought she was spending the night at a U-bend sales conference in Berwick-upon-Tweed. Should I call and tell him, or should I fuck the living daylights out of his spouse?
Don’t judge me, she was VERY sexy.
I tend not to have naughty telephone conversations, but use my phone to read all manner of smut via Twitter, Tumblr and the blogs!
Image from FFF Site
[ Flash Fiction Friday: Read all the entries at Advizor's Blog
Flash Fiction Friday: Read all the entries at Advizor's Blog