“Hi, this is Abbie!” She stifled a yawn as she answered the phone on the second ring. Another two hours of this chat line shit before she could log off. She wished she’d paid more attention to the teachers in the classroom and less to the boys in the playground—if she had spent more time studying and less time fucking she would have probably managed to pass more than three GCSEs and would now have a decent job.
“Hi, Abbie, this is Paul.”
“Hi, Paul, you have a very sexy voice. Where are you from?”
“I’m from France,” he responded with a strong British-Asian accent.
She was tempted to ask him something in French, since it was one of the three subjects she’d managed to pass at GCSE, but one more complaint and she would be fired. So she played along, “Tell me about yourself, Paul. Tell me what you look like so I can picture you as you’re fucking me.”
“I am 6’5”. I have blue eyes and blond hair. I have a thick 8” cock and I am going to fuck you hard,” he responded, sounding 5’6”, dark-eyed and bald, with a cock no bigger than her little finger.
“You will rip my little pussy with that big, hard cock!” she exclaimed, holding two fingers of her left hand in the classic ‘up yours’ position.
“I want your pussy to bleed, and when I am done I will fuck your asshole as well!”
“No! I have never had a cock in my ass before. Will it hurt?”
“You won’t be able to sit on your ass for weeks!”
The phone was disconnected in her ear.
It rang three minutes later. She jerked awake and yawned. “Hi, this is Abbie!”
“Hi sweetheart, this is Andrew.” A smooth, cultured voice caressed her ear. “Tell me what you look like.”
“I’m a sexy Black woman. I’m 5’9”, I have 34DD breasts, a 24” waist and 34” hips,” she lied. Well, almost. She was sexy. She was half-Black, half-Indian, 5’7”, had 34C breasts, a 26” waist and 40” hips. She had inherited her height, her smoldering eyes and her full lips from her handsome Black father and her dark skin, small nose and thick, almost straight hair from her pretty Indian mother.
“How old are you, my angel?”
“I’m 22 and definitely not an angel!”
“How naughty are you?”
“Very naughty.” She loved nasty callers. It was too much of an effort to speak to the ones who called looking for romance—she didn’t have a romantic bone in her body.
“I’ll have to punish you for being naughty.”
“Please punish me hard.”
“Okay, take off your knickers,” he commanded. “I am going to push some fingers into your pussy.”
“I just loved to be finger-fucked!” she gushed.
“How many fingers can you take?”
“All of them.”
“Can you take a fist?”
“I have never tried a fist,” she replied honestly, thinking it was better to stick to the truth in case the fucker called her back.
“I am going to fist-fuck you for being a bad girl. Spread your legs.”
“They are wide open, Andrew babes.”
“Good girl. You are so wet I quickly get all four of my fingers inside you, going deeper and deeper each time. Can you feel them?”
“Yes, your fingers are so big,” she moaned. “I don’t think I can take your whole hand.”
“You have been naughty. I have to punish you.”
“Can’t I just suck your cock instead?” She loved to mess with their fantasies.
“No! I decide your punishment. For your impertinence I force my hand deeper inside your little pussy.”
“Ouch! You’re hurting me. Please stop, I promise to be good next time.”
“No, I am going to fist your pussy tonight. Stop struggling!”
“Andrew, my poor pussy is hurting. You are tearing it apart with your big, hard hand.” She gave a few realistic moans for good measure. “But I am starting to like it. Fuck me, babes. Drive your hand right up my tight pussy.”
“Hold still, I’m making a fist.”
“Oh no! Your fist will kill me!”
“You’ve been naughty so I’m punishing you accordingly.”
Accordingly? He was beginning to sound more and more like he was no ordinary punter—beginning to sound like he had a bit of dough.
“Okay, Paul darling, do whatever you want with me.”
Shit! He was Andrew; Paul was the previous wanker!
“Fuck me with your fist, Andrew. I’ve been so very bad.”
“I am thrusting it in and out of your wet pussy. You like that, you naughty girl?”
“Yes, babes, I can feel your fist stretching my tight pussy to the limit. It feels so good.”
“I am really ramming my fist into your pussy now. Faster and faster.” She heard him wanking himself, faster and faster.
“Yes, babes, faster and faster! Faster and faster!” she chanted and heard him groan.
She gave him a few minutes to catch himself before she breathed, “Andrew, you punished me so very well. You are the best, babes.”
“Abbie, I enjoyed fisting your tight pussy. What time are you online tomorrow?”
“Very late. I like to spend the day playing with myself and being naughty, so at night I can be punished.”
“Okay, darling, I’ll call you at midnight.”
“Bye, babes.” She made a kissing sound and Andrew disconnected the call.
She logged off and spread her legs. She didn’t know what it was about fist-fucking that always turned her on. None of the other fantasies made her pussy wet but as soon as someone started talking about fucking her with a fist, her pussy went mad. She picked up her Rampant Rabbit and switched him on. Two minutes later she was arching off the bed, the Rabbit rampaging inside her clenching pussy as she came. She switched him off but left him buried as she logged back on. She pushed him in and out as she waited for her next call.