Dirty December …. Day 1 : Under Her Direction

I’d gone out to my truck as instructed and was sitting, awaiting her call.  My body had gotten ahead of itself and was wet in anticipation.  I didn’t know what she was going to have me do, but I guessed it would be something sexy.

I didn’t have to wait long, my phone played her distinctive ringtone and I thumbed the connection.  “Hello, gorgeous.”

“Hello, handsome, are you ready for me?”  Her voice was full of smiles and happy anticipation.

“I am sitting in my truck as you asked.”

“Where are you parked?”  I described my location to her:  outer edge of a retail lot, back where not many customers would go.  “Too bad, I was hoping you’d be somewhere less private, I know how much you enjoy an audience.”

A squirt of adrenaline sparked through my veins, what was she going to have me do?  What if she told me to move the truck to somewhere more exposed?

But she wanted to get on with the show, no delays for change of location.  “Kyle, are you ready?  Here’s what you’re going to do for me.  You’re going to create a porno for me in stills.  I’m going to give you your first instruction here on the phone, after that, I will be texting you.  You’ll take pictures as instructed and send them to me, then I’ll give you the next instruction.  I will be directing this porno via text, you are my lead actor and cinematographer.  Can you do this for me, lover?”

I grinned, hoping she could hear it in my voice, “Yes, yes, I can.  Awaiting instructions for the first shot.”

She described what she wanted and hung up.  I set the scene for the first shot:  belt unbuckled, ends hanging loosely, button fly partially unbuttoned, waistband of my briefs showing, left hand resting at the crease between my thigh and my bulge.  The artificial sound of a digital camera click, and another, because my sweater was in the way for the first shot.  Quick review and the photo was sent.

I didn’t have to wait long before I got the next piece of direction.

More buttons undone, fingers of the left hand sliding just under the waistband.  Click, send.

Left hand fully inside my briefs.  Click, send.

Jeans pushed midway down my thighs, left hand cupping my cock.  Click, send.  Another with me squeezing it.  Click, send.  Another with me reaching into my briefs through the leg hole.  Click, send.

It was an extended tease that I was doing to myself, at her direction.  I was aching to touch my clit directly, or even better, finger my wet hole, but I had to wait until she gave me that direction.  If she did? Ohgodplease, I prayed, she’s gotta let me do myself.

She switched it up a little for the next instruction. I was to take a short video of me stroking my cock through my briefs, complete with sound effects.  I was to email that to her and then await further instructions.

More picture requests.  I was to push my briefs down my thighs a little, enough for most of my mound to show.  Click, send.  Now my fingers squeezing my lips.  Click, send.  A picture of my fingers parting my lips and showing my clit.  That one took some maneuvering and I had to push my jeans down further, also I was wishing I’d sat in the passenger seat since the steering wheel was beginning to vex me.  I was about ready to take that shot when another vehicle went driving through the parking lot past my spot.  I froze, heart pounding.  Please don’t park next to me, please don’t park near me.  Big exhalation when the driver chose a spot on the far side from me, closer to the stores.

Parting pussy lips, clit showing.  Click, review.  Not enough visibility.  Click, review again.  Dammit, I want her to see it clearly.  Holding the phone at an awkward angle so I could get the shot and… click.  Finally one I could send.

Her text in response, “I thought maybe you’d decided to quit, that took quite a while.  Don’t make me wait so long for the rest of them.”  Directors are so demanding.

“Yes’m, I won’t make you wait.  I’m sorry.”  She hadn’t told me specifically what my reward would be for pleasing her, but it hardly mattered.  I wanted to not only please her, but impress her.  I wanted to be her good boy.  That was reward enough.

Next up a couple of shots of me stroking myself.  Click, send, click, send.  Then she told me to press two fingers into my hole and send her a picture.  Again, getting the shot angle proved tricky, mostly because I had gotten into a perfectionist mindset, also because it felt so good to have my fingers in my hole that I could barely hold them still.

And then another performance element, the request I’d been hoping for all along.  Call me and let me listen while you fuck your wet, little hole.

I took a deep breath and thumbed her number.

“How do you feel, handsome boy?” Her voice purred at me from miles away.

“I feel good, very wet, very horny.”  My voice felt tight.  I was hoping she’d hear the strain.

“Mmhmm, but you were already horny when you got into the truck, weren’t you?”

“Yes’m, I was.. I’ve been horny all day thinking about playing with you.”  My country boy drawl had come to the fore, a tell-tale sign of how turned on I was.

“Are you ready for what comes next?” There was something in her voice, something familiar.  I knew that tone of voice, I was certain she’d been touching herself quite a lot while directing me and seeing the results.  Well, of course, she wanted something she could get off on while she was directing me, and later, when she reviewed the results.

“Yes, please, I’m ready.”

“Are you” shark intake of breath, “I’m not sure you are, you’ll need to convince me.”

I could hear a low hum.  She’d started her vibrator.  I smiled, she wanted me to beg and I had no problem with that.

“Please, let me fuck myself.  I’m so ready, so wet and open, I need to fuck myself hard for you, please… I want to do it for you…”

Her voice had gotten lower, “My sweet, sweet boy… yes, please, baby, fuck yourself for me, let me hear you… mmmmmmm.”  She was more than halfway there, herself.

I glanced around quickly, hoping no one would come up in the next few minutes, because my awareness of the outside world was about to drop to zero.  I plunged my fingers inside and groaned, loudly, giving all of my pent up desire to her.  I imagined she was there, and these were her fingers, fucking me hard, stroking my G-spot.  I gripped the phone and imagined her lips against my ear.  As I got closer to orgasm, I heard her moaning loudly.

“I’m so close now… please, let me come… please.”

“Mmmmgggggrrrr, yes, lover boy, come for me sweet thing, come for me.”  She growled and then I heard her voice go up to an impossibly high pitch.  Her orgasm had hit.

I came once, then came again at her urging.  While listening to her come a second time, I groaned again as aftershocks shook through my body.

Spent, lying back against the seat, I panted, trying to catch my breath.  Like coming out of a tunnel, I became aware of my surroundings, grateful that there wasn’t a crowd gathered.  If anyone had been watching, they might have thought I was having a heart attack or a seizure or something.  I absently pulled the long wet hairs of my pussy, tugging a little and feeling a glorious tension still in my clit, like a power source that never went cold.

“How do you feel, lover boy?” Her voice was languid and full.  I imagined her lying back on her bed, hair mussed and legs still spread.  God, what I would give to be right there between her legs, giving her another round of pleasure.  I told her as much.

“Oh, lover, I wish you could be.  Did you have fun?  Did you enjoy my little game?”  She sounded pleased with herself, clearly she’d had fun.

“Yes… it was a lot of fun and very dirty.  Can we play something like that again sometime?  You are a wonderful porn director.”

“Mmmm, of course, love, we will definitely do that again.  And I have other things planned for you.”  That made me grin hugely, I loved her creativity with all things sexy.  “There is no end to the dirty ideas I have in mind for you, handsome boy.”

 Dirty December is a challenge created by Sinclair Sexsmith and embraced enthusiastically by me.  The challenge is to write a dirty story each day in December.   The winner?  All of our readers

This content is published under the Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported license.