Anita’s Phone Tease

"Ummmm – is it noon already?" Anita's hand found the alarm clock on the nightstand next to her bed and switched it off. She turned over and lay on her back, stretching luxuriously.

Sunlight was streaming through the windows, brightly illuminating the white sheet that covered her nude body. Her blonde hair was spread out on the pillow around her pretty face, a single strand lying across her lips. She brushed it aside as she yawned, smiling at what promised to be a fine day. As she lifted her arms above her head, the top of the sheet slid down, revealing the twin globes of her large, cream-white breasts, with their erect rosebud nipples. She swept the sheet to the side, and gazed approvingly down at her body. Anita was proud of her tempting figure, and took a sensual delight in it. Sighing contently, she closed her eyes and ran her hands languorously over her voluptuous curves: first cupping her full breasts and pinching her nipples gently (which brought forth an involuntary moan of pleasure), then moving down over her flat stomach to caress the graceful sweep of her hips, finally reaching between her parted legs to brush the inside of her thighs lightly, slowly drawing her fingertips up to tantalize the cleft of her girlish vulva, pouting under delicate silken wisps of fair hair. Unable to resist, she placed a fingertip at the top of her slit and rubbed gently in little circles, exciting the little nub of pleasure nestled inside. She was tempted to bring herself to orgasm, but resisted – a little tease was enough to start the day, and it filled her with a pleasant erotic glow.

Anita's body gave her pleasure, as it did to those men who were lucky enough to be her occasional lovers. It also gave her pleasure to think about the effect she had on the men who happened to cross her path during the day. She always tried to dress in ways that would provoke desire, and it amused her to think of the insistent erections she caused in all those aroused men, who couldn't wait to get home to masturbate to fantasies of her. She knew the effect she had on them, especially on the men who came to watch her strip at the club, where she would do her utmost to put them through torments of tantalizing sexual tease and frustrated desire.

She had a free day ahead of her, with nothing to do until 9:00 that evening, when she was due at the club. Classes were over at the University, and exams behind her (thank god!), and she was looking forward to a lazy summer. Her advisor had suggested she get started on her Master's thesis over the summer, but she'd decided against it – she'd had enough of libraries for awhile. And today - today would be a shopping day. She needed a new set of garters for the club, something that would go with the red bra and panties she liked to wear under her costumes. Most of her outfits were based on street-clothes that girls might actually wear, like school uniforms, or sweaters and jeans; but sometimes she liked something really slutty, just for variety. And she knew that her boyfriend John would appreciate seeing her modeling it for him, as well!

After a quick shower she selected a dress appropriate for the warm summer day, a lightweight sleeveless sundress, form-fitting above, and flaring out from her hips in pleats that flipped enticingly as she walked. She knew it would get a lot of attention at the mall.

***

She spotted him almost as soon as she entered the large shopping complex in the center of the city. She didn't know who he was, of course, but the lust and hunger showed clearly in his eyes as she walked by. She was an expert when it came to that look, oh yes.

Poor old Jake. He was a mall regular, one of the guys who hung out there when he wasn't working odd jobs, watching the girls who paraded up and down in their skimpy summer outfits. They drove him crazy, and he spent his days following them through the mall, hoping for glimpses up their skirts when they sat down on the benches, or staring at their firm, round asses, shifting from side to side in tight shorts as they walked in front of him. He loved how the air-conditioning often made their young nipples perk out enticingly, at least with the girls who didn't wear bras. Often he became so excited that he needed to relieve himself in a men's room stall, stroking himself to orgasm amidst the swirl of tantalizing images that flooded his mind.

Anita didn't have to look; she knew that he had started to follow her. She smiled to herself and headed for the escalator.

Jake felt the familiar surge between his legs when he saw her, a delicious blonde in a flimsy little dress: oh such beautiful big tits, that dress is so tight, look at how those tits are pushing and trying to get out, I wonder if I could see anything from the side through her sleeves, oh wow what a short skirt, her legs are so creamy, ohhhhhhh...

He saw her step onto the escalator going up, and he almost ran to get on behind her before anyone else had a chance to get in between. He stayed back three steps, where he was able to get a tantalizing look up her skirt from behind. She was so beautiful, the dress clung to her shape from her neck down to her hips, then it got loose in light little folds, so thin he could almost see through it. Her legs, mmmm her legs, so long and firm! His eyes swept hungrily up and down, from the light sandals she wore, up her shapely calves, to the backs of her thighs almost high enough to see her panties. He imagined putting his hands on her hourglass hips, running them down the sides of her legs, then up to lift her skirt, revealing her enticing panties to him. He was aware of her scent, clean, honeysuckle fresh, with a mysterious hint of her womanhood. He was filled with a longing that went beyond lust, he wanted to lie with her and caress her, he wanted to enter her gently, he wanted to see her smile...

Anita didn't know the finer texture of his thoughts, of course; she knew only the general erotic effect she was having on him, and she knew she was teasing him. And she liked that. It wasn't that she disliked men like him, or that she wanted to cause him pain. She felt sorry for him, in fact; but at the same time she knew how tremendously exciting it was to men like him to be tantalized and aroused like this, how much they loved it. She was, she felt, just giving him what he craved. And she was good at it.

After she had finished with her purchases she went to the food court for a late lunch. She got a salad and sat down, and was not at all surprised when moments afterwards saw Jake take a seat a couple of tables away, where he had a good view of her from the side. She took a book from her bag and read while she ate her salad. When she had finished eating, she sat back in her chair and crossed her legs as she continued to read. Every once in a while she would reach down to her lap and give her skirt an imperceptible tug, so that it gradually traveled higher up her thighs, displaying more flesh to Jake's eager eyes. She turned slightly, so that now he was able to see a little between her crossed legs; and the skirt continued its upward progress.

Finally, she put the book down and looked down at her sandals. She uncrossed her legs, and lifted one to rest its heel on the edge of the chair seat, then pretended to adjust the straps of the sandal. As she did this, Jake was presented with an unimpeded view between her parted legs, and he gazed unbelievingly at the crotch of her tight, white cotton panties, so thin and stretched so tightly that shadows of what nestled within were clearly discernible. After a few seconds, Anita got up and gathered her possessions. She walked straight towards Jake, who sat paralyzed and red-faced, and as she passed she looked at him and smiled - "Busted!" she whispered.

Jake sat transfixed, watching her flounce toward the exit. Then he headed for the men's room.

***

When Anita returned home, hot and sweaty from the heat of the day, she decided to take a nice bath before it was time to go to the club. She put on a CD to listen to while she was soaking in the tub, the classical one that her Psych-215 professor, John, had given her when they started going out. Her favorite cut was "Air on the G-String", by J.S. Bach. She thought the title was hilarious, considering her part-time job, but she was always moved by the sweetness and longing she felt when she listened to it; it said things to her that words couldn't, it sometimes made her weep, but in a happy way. She'd never really listened to "classical" music before. John hadn't been condescending when he gave it to her. It was simply music that she'd never heard before, and he thought that she would like it; he was right.

She put some nice-smelling bath salts in the water, and brought a glass of wine over to the tub. Letting her dress and panties fall to the floor, she lowered herself into the fragrant warmth, sighing with pleasure. The bath relaxed her, and she let her arms float at her sides, her breasts swelling up through a scented froth of bubbles. She closed her eyes and surrendered to the bliss of the music...

Her cell phone was on a chair by the bathtub, and it rang now. She frowned a bit at the interruption, and reached up to dry her hands on a towel, then took the phone. She looked at the number in the display, and smiled. A call on the 900 line had been transferred to her. Evidently, one of her "friends" was in need of her.

It had been very clever of Francois to start a 900-number phone service aimed at his club's clientele. Several of the girls, including Anita, had agreed to be available for calls a couple of days a week, calls from guys who had seen them dancing at the club. If a girl noticed a man who seemed particularly "moved" by her performance, when she left the stage she would smile and drop a card into his lap as she passed him. The card contained the girl's name and the number where she could be reached. The client was encouraged to call her and share his feelings about her performance. Fine print declared the $3.00 a minute calling charge, next to a silhouette of a voluptuous girl. It cost Francois about $500 a month to maintain the line, which it usually took only a week of calls to cover. The girls got half of the take for the calls they worked.

Anita actually enjoyed these calls. She enjoyed the way she was able to manipulate the men who called her, to build on the craving they felt after watching her undress at the club. She enjoyed listening to them pant and groan while they masturbated to her tantalizing, little-girl voice; and she enjoyed the money the calls brought her at the end of the month!

Settling herself back in the bath, she clicked on the phone.

"Hi! This is Anita..."

"Uh, hi, this is Robert."

"Robert! Mmmmm, how are you, sweetie?"

Anita liked it when Robert called. Most of Anita's spring wardrobe had been paid for by Robert's calls.

"I've been thinking about you a lot, Robert – we had such a nice time the last time you called, didn't we? Did you like what we did?"

"Yes – I, I really liked it, a lot."

"You'll never guess where I am now, Robert. Would you believe I'm in the bathtub? I'm lying here completely naked while I'm talking to you. Listen..."

She splashed the water with her free hand and giggled.

"I'm taking a bubble bath. It feels sooooo good on my skin, so nice and slippery. I'm taking my hands and rubbing them all over me. Do you do that when you take a bath or a shower, Robert? Get all nice and slippery and rub your hands on yourself? I'll bet it feels good, doesn't it? It would be so nice if you were here with me – this could be your hand sliding all over my breasts..."

"God, that sounds so hot!"

Anita giggled. "I bet it does! Bet you wish you were here, hmm? I wish you were..."

"I'd like that, Anita, I really would, a lot."

"You know, Robert, I'm actually glad you called. I need a man's opinion about something, a man who's very, well, sexual. I think you fit that bill, don't you Robert?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess so."

"Well, I have this boyfriend, John, did I mention him to you? Anyway, I heard about this little game I'd like to try with him, but I can't decide if it's something he'd really like. I mean, being a girl and all it's kind of hard to know just what a man is going to enjoy, you know? Can I tell you about it, get your opinion of it?"

"OK, sure..."

"Oh, good! Well, here goes – now, you know how you guys have this little place on your cock, on the underside just below the head, where it feels really good to touch? John does anyway, and lots of other guys I know do, too. How about you, sweetie, do you like to be touched there?"

"Oh yes, I do, yes."

"Well, what happens is this: the girl gets down between the guy's legs, and with the tip of her tongue, just the very tip, she gives a little lick right on that spot, a soft little upward lick, barely touching him. It's supposed to feel really nice, but what's sort of kinky about it is that she doesn't do anything else for about fifteen seconds. Then, she gives him another lick, just like the first – and waits another fifteen seconds. She keeps repeating that over and over, every fifteen seconds. Am I doing a good job describing it, Robert? Can you imagine what that would be like?"

"Ohhh god, yesss..."

"The thing is, I can't see how he'd be able to feel something that's so very soft and light. Has your girlfriend ever done something like that to you?"

"Uh, no, I don't actually..."

"Oh wait, you don't have a girlfriend, Robert, do you? You told me that once – poor baby! Well, maybe you can just use your imagination – think about a girl giving you a delicate little tongue flick, so light that she was barely touching you. Do you think you'd actually be able to feel it? Would it feel good, do you think? Would you like that, Robert?"

"Oh yes, oh yes..."

"I suppose it would be a kind of tantalizing pleasure, wouldn't it? Such a soft lick wouldn't be enough – it would just make you need more. I guess that's the idea, to make you need more, then make you wait for it. I bet your cock would be throbbing and getting harder and harder while you were waiting for the next lick. You think that's how it would be, sweetie?"

"Ohhhhhhhhhhh..."

"And imagine it going on and on, with you getting harder and harder, aching for the next lick. I bet you would try counting off the seconds in your mind, but you'd be sure to go too fast. When you got to fifteen nothing would happen and you'd feel so anxious – and then all of a sudden she'd give you another lick, catching you by surprise, and it would feel so good - but now you'd have to wait a whole fifteen seconds for the next one. It'd probably drive you crazy, huh?"

"Oh god, it would, ohhhh."

"Well, I want to be sure. Maybe we can do a little experiment, OK? Please?"

"Y-yes..."

"OK. Well, first your cock has to be hard – I'll wait for you to get ready."

"It - it's hard now, so hard...

"Really? Oh my, how did that happen? Hm. Well, good – now put a finger in your mouth and get it good and wet. Ready?"

"Yes."

"OK – now get ready to touch yourself in that cute little spot, but wait for me to say touch. Use just the very tip of your wet finger."

"OK..."

"Now – touch! How was that, Robert, did it feel good? I hope you did it lightly, just like a feather. But now you have to wait, remember – no more touching until I say so. Oh! I guess I have to count now, don't I? OK – 1, 2, 3 ..."

Anita grinned to herself, imagining Robert straining over his hard-on, waiting for permission to repeat the touch. She found it exciting to think about the state she got these men into, so desperate for the sex and pleasure she dangled just out of their reach. She reached down between her legs and caressed herself, enjoying the sweetness of her touch under the warm water, and the tormented whimpering on the phone.

"4, 5, 6 ..."

She knew Robert had been to the club many times to watch her, but she wouldn't have known who he was if she had tripped over him. She knew only that he was one of the horny, lonely men who sat in the semi-darkness every night, addicted to the tease that she and the other girls inflicted on them. Almost certainly he was one of the quiet ones. The really needy ones.

"7, 8, 9 ..."

The men she targeted in her act weren't the loud guys, who got drunk and liked to hoot and shout. She looked for the quiet ones, sitting alone, the kind of men who have fantasies about girls they see during the day, wishing they could follow them home and watch them undress. Robert was one if these, she was sure.

"10, 11, 12 ..."

Anita worked very hard on her facial expressions to intensify the tease in her act; she knew there's a lot you can communicate with just the right look. If she saw a man who was really getting excited, she knew just how to get into his head. She'd look at him with an expression of such sympathy, with a frown of concern on her face, and her mouth rounded into a pouting "ooooo". It was as if she were saying to him, "Ohhh you poor thing, this must be so difficult for you! If it were up to me I'd take you in back and give you what you need to make you cum. But I can't do that; it's my job to tease your cock as much as I can, to make what you're feeling even worse, and that's what I'm going to do. Awww, I'm sorry..." Then she'd caress her breasts and lick her lips, looking deep into his eyes. And he'd be sure to get a card.

She slowed down – "13 ... 14 ... 15 ... touch," she whispered.

"Hunh – ahhh..." Robert gasped at his next touch.

"Mmmm, it sounds like you like that, Robert! Is it really good? I hope so!"

Anita could tell that Robert was getting quite turned on now, and she knew she had him hooked – the longer he stayed on the line the more she would tantalize him and excite his cock, and he knew it. He didn't care that the meter was running and this was costing him money. He only knew that he needed what Anita did to him more than he'd ever needed anything; the orgasms she coaxed him to were unlike any he'd ever had before.

"1, 2, 3 ... but this is only pretend, you know, it's not exactly like the real thing. You know what I mean, Robert?"

"Y-yes..."

"4, 5, 6 ... I mean, if I were actually there between your legs doing it to you, you'd feel my warm breath on you while you were waiting."

"Mmmmmmmmmm"

"7, 8, 9 ... maybe I'd even blow on you a little just to make it more interesting. Would that be good, Robert? Would warm puffs of air feel good on your cock? Would they, Robert? Tell me, baby..."

Ohhhh yes, so good, so good, ohhhhh..."

"10, 11, 12 ... and you know what? I bet my warm, wet tongue would probably feel very different from your finger. I think it would feel a lot better, don't you, sweetie?"

"Oh my god, oh yes, oh yes..."

"13, 14, 15 - of course, the really big difference, Robert, is that I'm going to do this to my boyfriend, not to you."

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh my god, ohhhh no, ohhhh please..."

"Touch."

She heard him going absolutely berserk now, and she knew he was pumping away on his cock for all he was worth. She let him go for a few seconds, but she didn't want him to have an orgasm yet – oh no, she had more plans for him tonight.

"Wait, Robert – don't cum yet sweetie! Robert – are you there?"

"Ohhh - uh-huh..."

"Is your cock still hard, Robert – you haven't cum, have you?"

"No ... almost ... stopped when you said ... why can't I – ohhhh it feels so good, I'm so hard..."

"Listen, Robert, I want you to keep it nice and hard. You can touch it now and then, but just enough to keep it excited. Look down at your cock, Robert – is it nice and hot and stiff for me?"

"Oh yes, it's so hard, so big, it's twitching, I want ... oh god this is driving me crazy!"

"Aw, I know, poor baby! Now, Robert, just calm down sweetie, and listen to me. What I want you to do is keep your cock all ready for me, and later tonight come down to the club."