Naughty Message Good Bits Wall
Stay tuned for the latest updates and catch Stan's hot short stories in the Cleis Press collections: I is for Indecent, F is for Fetish, Caught Looking, Hide and Seek, She's On Top, Cross Dressing, and the Pretty Things Press releases: Naughty Spanking Stories from A to Z, Vol. II and Sex and Candy
Naughty Message was out of print, but by popular request Blue Moon bought the rights and decided to reprint it.It's being released in July 2004 and is available in stores now... be sure to ask for the Blue Moon edition by Stanley Carten - my old pen name or use one of these links

Naughty Message is about the consequences of a wrong number phone sex call. Sophie Taylor - phone sex artiste extraordinaire mistakenly leaves a very steamy phone sex message on shy computer nerd Wesley Arthur's answering machine. Wesley uses his rocket science smarts to track down Sophie and a hot phone sex relationship ensues. This selection is from Chapter Fourteen - transcripts of phone sex calls between the shy Wesley and the sexy Sophie.

Chapter Fourteen

"I bought a new dress today, Wesley. I bought it especially for you."

"Did you, Sophie? Please tell me what it looks like?"

"Well, I'm wearing it right now. It is very short. I know you like short skirts. If you were following me up some stairs you'd be able to see all the way up my dress to my panties. The dress is a kind of a salmon pink color, and it has two big holes one in the front and one in the back - and they are covered in black mesh. If I don't wear a bra, you could just see to my nipples, and if I wear a bra it looks extremely sexy because you can see all of my cleavage."

"I'd like to see you in that dress."

"Maybe some day you will, Wesley. I wore the dress home from the store, and do you know what happened?"

"Please tell me."

"I got fucked, Wesley. I let a man I'd never met before fuck me in the mouth, the pussy and the bottom. A complete stranger fucked me. I fantasized that it was you. I do that a lot these days. I think of what it would be like to meet you to meet the man behind the voice that intrigues me so. I planned my outfit very carefully, hoping that I might run in to you. I wore some black high heels with the dress, complimented by some sheer black fishnet tights. I wore the little black panties you are fond of, and to show off my tits I wore that white lace bra. You know the one that barely covers my bosom. It's such a naughty item of lingerie it lifts my breasts up and pushes them out so invitingly, making them look so big and well rounded. Underneath the black mesh, the contrast of the white bra really focuses attention on my tits. I really couldn't blame the man for wanting me."

"Where did you meet him?"

"He drove the taxi I took home from shopping. Only we didn't get to my house very quickly. He stopped in a deserted street, and in broad daylight he fucked me all those ways that I told you about, right there, in the back of his car. It all started quite innocently. I could see that he was watching me in the rear view mirror, so I gave him a bit of a show. You know, just the way you like me to. I crossed my legs very slowly so he could see right up to the skimpy panties that barely covered my cunt. The dress is ultra short so that sitting in the cab, it kept inching its way up my nylon covered thighs until it crept all the way past my bottom. I didn't push the dress down, content to display my alluring curves to this strong, silent man. This man, that in the deep swirling recesses of my mind, I fantasized could be you.

"I guess he couldn't stand the delectable sight of my luscious body just inches away from him, sitting revealingly on the back seat of his taxi, because he suddenly stopped the car without the usual explanation proffered by lost taxi drivers. I was tempted to ask what he was doing, but I thought better of it. We both knew what was about to happen. The atmosphere in the cramped space of the taxi was supercharged with a high voltage that cracked lightening bolts of sexual anticipation across every curve of my being. My body tingled as each little hair on my body stood to attention.

"He didn't say a word, knowing from the way I smiled and licked my lips that I was a willing participant in his broad daylight backseat tryst. He simply got in the back of the taxi, and I slid down on the seat like a teenager at the drive in movies. I lifted up my bottom so he could pull off my tights, and then without further ceremony my panties came slithery off. The little lace things were soaked. As were the tops of my thighs. I could feel the tackiness of my pubic hair sticking to the soft tender flesh just below my sex. Bowing to the pressure of his forceful hand, I opened my legs and closed my eyes in that suggestively submissive way you find so attractive, tacitly allowing him to have his way with me.

"It was the strangest love making I've experienced. He never spoke. He never even kissed me. It was like watching a silent movie or perhaps dreaming the whole thing. It was so very surrealistic. He just fucked me. First in the pussy with long slow strokes that forced me against the side of the taxi. I pressed against him with all my might, grinding my cunt into him, letting the bushy mass surrounding his cock rub over my sex. He was quite the sexpert, titillating my throbbing button with every purposeful ripple of his buttocks. I felt his orgasm pounding to a climax within his cock, but he remained taciturn, almost robot like in his persistence in maintaining that same slow, deliberate, excruciatingly cunt wetting rhythm.

"In perfect silence he came inside of me, a slight grimace breaking the controlled expression he fought to maintain. Never once did he stop fucking me so reservedly. It was maddening. I wanted to make him scream with lust, but no matter how I wriggled or tightened my cunt as he came, the only reaction I felt was the warmth of his juice filling my drenched cavity.

"He was not satiated, and neither were my own desires. I'd resolved to grind away at him, coaxing forth my release, when he suddenly pulled out his cock. I had my eyes closed when his unexpected withdrawal occurred, but by the time I had them opened he'd straddled my body and was thrusting his dripping length at my face. In self defense I swallowed it whole, taking his dick completely in my mouth, the tender, swollen cockhead nestling at the rear of my throat. He grabbed my head at the back with his hands and masturbated his cock by moving my dazed head backwards and forwards in a rocking motion. I pressed my tongue firmly against the underside of his shaft, cradling the intruder like some tasty morsel of succulent tropical fruit. Each time his penis slid in and out of my tightly clasped lips I enfolded my tongue around every ridge and bulging vein of his steadfastly erect cock, becoming intimately aware of every pleasure-inducing nuance of his staff.

"Sucking with all my might I tried to refuse his withdrawal from my mouth, always winning his cock's plunging return. At the apex of his stroke I could feel his velvet head expand with a blood rush expectation to fill my throat, threatening to choke me with its desire. It was at one of these pinnacles of ecstasy, when I suddenly felt his erection convulse, and a warm salty liquid drown my palate. He held his cock at this point, pouring forth its nectar into my throat. I eagerly drank all it offered until I was intoxicated with his come.

"I began to wonder if this was not some rare sexual superman. He had orgasmed twice within a matter of minutes and stayed rock hard throughout the entirely pleasurable experience. My musings were further strengthened when he rolled me over, roughly hoisted my buttocks into the air, and in one swift movement entered my bottom with his still resilient tumescence. The hard cock, now extremely moist from my sucking, sank deeply into my ass. I gasped at the penetration, almost blacking out from the intensity that seared up from my anus, burning through me, igniting raging fires of desire in places lust rarely called home.

"My fingers, my toes, my ears, my eyelids every part of me boiled sexually, as if my orgasm had somehow spread like wildfire to every cell of my body. And his was the torch that ignited my inferno. An arsonist of lust, he reached under my body and clasped my sex with his hot fingers. With each splitting thrust of his stoic member he kneaded the flesh of my pussy, massaging my sensitive clitoris with the folds of my labia. It was a sensation unlike anything I have ever experienced. Words fail me in trying to describe it to you, but I'm sure you understand. I screamed as I came, going into convulsions that ripped his third orgasm from deep within his balls. Finally spent, he released his grip of me, and I collapsed forward onto the car seat, delirious with the excess my body had surrendered.

"I kept thinking to myself as I lay there that he had come each time we'd fucked. In the pussy, in the mouth and in my bottom. Three times he came, all in the space of a few minutes. And through it all he stayed very hard. As a woman I am used to being the one to pace my sexual exploits, coming several times, often by my own hand as my male partner recovers from the effects of my insatiable appetite. But this was so unexpected it was thrilling to be used so. It was like making love to a woman with a dick!

"I moaned and I groaned very loudly through all his penetrations and he never uttered a sound. Even when he came. And when he'd finished with me, he took my tights and panties and wiped them on me and then on him. And without so much as a thank you kiss he put my sodden undergarments into his jacket, got back into the front of his cab, and drove me to my house. Even when we arrived, he still didn't say anything. He just stopped the car, opened the door for me, I got out, he shut it and drove off. He didn't say a word. He didn't even try to collect the fare. I guess I was it."

"Oh that was wonderful, Sophie."

"Did you come, Wesley?"

"Oh yes! It was awesome."

"You sly dog. You were as quiet as that taxi driver. Tell me, at what part did you come?"

"Where you were describing sitting in the car with your dress riding up past your bottom. I could imagine seeing it. I couldn't control myself. That was the first. I came three times actually."

"That's what I want, Wesley. I want you to lose control with me."

"I always do."

"Until next time."

"Goodnight, my dear. And oh, Sophie, I almost forgot to ask you. Do you want your tights and panties back?"

"Hah Hah, you are wicked, Wesley. Very wicked. Goodnight. Sweet dreams."



"Dressing well and looking good are essential. A meaning in life is not." . . . Oscar Wilde

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