Samidah (an Indian woman) and I worked at an ad agency – I was a designer and she was the receptionist. It was still in the days of apartheid in South Africa so whites and non-whites were not allowed to mix. A muslim (not in practice) with HUGE sexy boobs, she would flirt with me every time I walked by the reception desk.
Obviously I walked past a lot.
One day she told me her new husband was hopeless in bed. “He puts his little cock in me for 10 seconds and cums! It’s such a waste,” she hissed, “I never cum. I can’t stand it, but it’s an arranged marriage so I am stuck.”
I couldn’t help noticing she had leaned forward while whispering this into my ear – what a good girl, she didn’t want the whole office to know. Her big boobs were pushed up by the tabletop, bulging out of her dress; defining her cleavage.
Her nipples were hard.
Just then the phone rang.
Riiing
“Oh, it’s my husband, he always calls me at this time to tell me what I must buy to make him dinner.”
Riiing
“Don’t answer,” I said.
Riiing
“I must” she excerpted
Riiing
“Wait”
Riiing
“No!” she giggled
“Three more rings…”
Riiing
“Two…” She giggled again, her boobs jiggling as she leaned back, her hand hovering over the receiver
Riiing
“One more,” I said, looking deep into her eyes.
Riiing
“Now” she stared back, biting her lip
R..
“Hello. Oh. Hi…. Yes.” she spat, rolling her eyes and making faces while she spoke to her husband. I laughed. I gave her a wink and walked back to the studio thinking, “Hmmm; she likes to follow instructions. That’s good.”
That Friday we were talking again and I asked her when did she have sex?
“At 10 o clock. Every night; as long as I am not on my period.”
“OK.” I said. “I love my girlfriend and I know you’re married; but that’s no reason why we can’t have some fun. Give me your number at home. At fivepast ten tonight I will call the number.”
“Are you mad!?”
“NoNo No. Listen to me. Listen. I will let the phone ring three times and then hang up. At the third ring I want you to come for me on your husband’s cock.”
“Yeah. Right” she snorted. She thought I was nuts but gave me the number.
“Don’t you DARE fuck up!” she warned.
That night, while my girlfriend was in the shower, I called. My fingers were trembling I was so excited.
Riiing…
Riiing…
Riiing…
I put the phone down. “Who you calling hunny,” my girlfriend asked.
“Oh, just someone at the studio,” I replied, undressing. “I wanted to know if my job had gone to print.” My cock was solid. I got into the shower with my girlfriend and began to squeeze her bum.
Next Monday I walked in to the office and Samidah called me over. “Oh my GOD!,” she squeaked. “It. Worked. It worked! I couldn’t believe it!
“I was so horny thinking about you calling me, I was driving.When the phone rang I lost it all over his little cock. But my husband told me not to shout. Good muslim wives don’t do that, he told me,” she explained, disdainfully sticking out her tongue and wagging her finger.
I laughed. “Well, I am pleased you came for me. I fucked my girlfriend silly after I phoned you.”
“Mmm,you’ll have to tell me more about it later,” she said.
This continued for a while. Every couple of days I used to call. It really turned me on that this woman would come on my command. I wonder what happened to her orgasms after I left the company to go on a backpacking trip to Europe?
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