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Wrong Number - A Phone Booth Story
This is a story from a planned series but stands alone as a complete story. It is 1,526 words. What kind of mischief can someone get into inside a phone booth?
Saul fumbled in the pockets of his thin jacket, balancing his books in one hand as he searched for correct change. He was just about to march into the fast-food Mex place to break a ten when his fingers found the coins.
His hand was poised over the phone's slot when the ring startled him. The coins flew out of his hand, clinking against the side of the booth and clattering to the floor.
The phone rang again, insistently, as he bent to pick up his change. His band music tumbled to the ground. He stood up and stared at it as it rang a third time.
Looking around but seeing nothing, he plucked the black handset from the silver cradle.
"Hello?"
The voice that answered was a woman's, low, almost a whisper. Sultry but soothing, but sounding calculated, like an actress in a seductive role and trying too hard. It stretched "hello" into seven syllables.
It kept going before he could get a word in. What it said made him not want to interrupt.
"I'm so hot for you today. I hope you've got lots of time, because I want to come so many times.
"I wore my special clothes today, too. You know what I mean. The skirt that lets you see my pussy when I sit across from you. And you can see everything, because I'm wearing those red panties. The ones with the slit right down the middle. Right over my slit.
"And I've got the fish-net on. The black ones you like so much. And those five-inch heels - the ones you call you- know-what.
"Oh, and that white blouse, the lacy one, that you can see everything through. And you can see everything today, because I'm not wearing a bra. You can see my tits, can't you? See how big and hard my nipples are? They're hard because I'm hot for you. Soooo hot.
"So I'm all ready for you, sugar. Just tell me what you want me to do.
"Sugar? Are you there?"
Saul was already breathing hard. He looked around again. There was no one in sight. The street lights were dim against the evening and the overhead light in the booth was burned out as usual.
"Sugar?"
He swallowed. His voice came out as more of a croak. "Take ... take off ..."
"Mmmm," she said. "Take off my blouse? OK, honey. I'm unbuttoning it now. One, two, three, four. You can see my tits even better now. Shall I pinch my nipples? Ah, yesss. Now what? What should I do next, hmm?"
Saul's hand had fallen to his crotch. His fingers played lightly over his zipper.
As he opened his mouth to speak, a police siren split the night. A cop car came careening around the corner, lights flashing. He pulled his hand away and held his breath. Was this some kind of set up?
No. The car whizzed past and flew down the street into the distance. The lone cop inside had been staring straight ahead. Saul breathed again.
The woman on the phone sounded confused. "Sugar? What was that noise? It sounded so close."
"Ah, nothing," he whispered. "Just keep going."
The gasp came through loud and clear. "Who is this? Who's on the line?"
He frowned. "You called me, lady."
"I called - oh, this isn't - I mean - " The whisper was gone. Saul had a nagging feeling he'd heard the voice before, but he couldn't place it.
"I'm at a pay phone," he said quietly. "You called and - I get it. A wrong number?"
"Yes," she said, "Yes. Oh! I'm so sorry! What I said!"
"Actually, I kind of liked it."
There was a long pause.
"You did?" The whisper was back.
"Sure."
"Well." Another pause. "I've never ... I only do this with my husband. I'm married, and when he works late ... Was it good?"
"Very good." Damn good, he thought. His cock was still straining against his pants.
"Then you wouldn't mind if I ..."
"Lady, I'd love it."
"You can call me ... ah ... What do you want to call me?"
He thought. "Zara," he said. "I always liked that name."
She laughed. "Zara, then. And you are?"
"Paul. Call me Paul."
"Oh."
"Something wrong?"
"N-no. Paul. This feels very naughty, Paul. But I guess, if it's just over the phone, it can't be anything really wrong, can it?"
"No. It's just words, isn't it?"
"Yes. All right. I just - "
"Now, you were taking off your blouse, weren't you?"
"Yes. Yes, I was." The voice fell back to a throaty whisper. "It's just you and me ... Paul. And I've taken off my blouse."
"Tell me about your breasts. Are they ..."
"Oh, you'd like them. They're not so big, I think, but nice and round. Just the right size to fit in one hand. Ooh, yes, Paul. Put your hands on my tits. Rub them for me. Mmmmm."
He was actually rubbing his cock, but his pants got in the way. Glancing nervously about, he unzipped and pulled his pecker out as she went on.
"Now I'm taking off my skirt, Paul. Sliding it down my long legs. You like that, don't you? Don't I have nice legs?"
"They're beautiful. Just like all of you."
"Mmm, thank you! Am I ... Am I making you hard?"
"Yesss," he sighed.
"Tell me about it!"
He licked his lips. "My cock ... My cock is thick and hard for you. Just looking at you makes me so horny."
"It is hard," she said. "May I touch it? Is that all right?"
"Yes!" He put his hand on his shaft, stroking it slowly as she spoke.
"Such a big cock," she said. "It feels so hot. What I'd really like to do is suck on it. Put it right in my mouth and lick it all over. Shall I?"
His hand was moving faster. She didn't wait for a reply.
"Mmmm. It tastes so good, your cock in my mouth. Oh, yes, baby! I can take it all the way down. Your hairs tickle!"
"Oh, God," he choked out. "Suck it! Suck it!"
"Yes, I'm sucking it. Licking it up and down like a big ol' lollipop. Up and down. But, oh, you know what I'd really like to do?"
"Tell me!"
"I want you inside me. Do you want me?"
His body sagged against the side of the booth. The phone nearly slipped from his grasp as he realized he was covered in sweat.
"Tell me," she urged. "Tell me what you want!"
"I want to fuck you. I want to lay my cock right up inside that hot twat of yours. Yeah. I want to screw you like crazy!"
"Then let's do it. I'm on the bed now. I've taken all my clothes off. I'm naked and waiting. Waiting just for my Paul. See my pussy? It's so hot and wet. Here, I'll spread my lips apart so you can see just how wet I am. Mmmm. God, I need you! I need you now! Put that cock in me! Please!"
His had was flying on his dick. His knees gave way and he slid down to the floor of the booth, jacking furiously. "I'm sticking it in you now. God, you're so tight. Damn, you feel good. I'm in you all the way. Jesus! Take it, Zara! Unh, unh, yeah, that's the way!"
"Yes, Paul, yes! Faster! Faster! I can really feel you! Oh, my God, it's never been so good! God, yes!"
He felt himself nearing the edge. Part of him wanted to slow down, but he couldn't take it any longer. He pumped his cock against his hand over and over. "Ye-yeah! Take it, Zara! Take it so deep! Jeez, you're so sweet! Take my cum, Zara, take it, take it, take iiiiaaaaaauuuuggghh!"
As the jism gushed out of rod, splashing onto his fist and dripping down to the sticky phone booth floor, shrieks came searing over the phone line. He let the handset fall as he closed his eyes and sagged, exhausted and spent. The cries made the phone buzz against the booth wall.
"Paul? Paul?"
He grabbed for the handset, swinging on its stretched cord. "Yeah," he said. "Zara?"
"Oh, my God, Paul, that was so good. Was it good for you?"
He looked down at the mess on the floor. "Yes, it was. It was incredible." He paused. "Could we ... Could we do this again?"
The silence stretched on.
The voice returned, thin and strained. "That might not be such a good idea."
"No, I guess not."
"No."
"Still, I ... Thanks. Thank you."
"Thank you, Paul." There was a smile in the words.
"Quite a wrong number. Glad I picked this phone booth."
"A booth? You're in a booth?"
"Yeah. I was just on my way home from school - "
"School?" It was a yelp. "How old are you?"
He weighed his answer. "Eighteen," he lied. "Why?"
"Oh, it's just ... nothing, I guess."
"Yeah, so, I was on my home and my dad was supposed to pick me up, but he's working late, so I was calling my - "
Both sides of the line were dead silent for a full minute. She sighed.
He knew that sigh.
"Mom?"