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You know from the articles that cocks do get to eight inches. You also have girlfriends who have told you about the big dick's they have fucked. Right?"

"I guess."

"And, you were staring at my cock last night, as we sat on the couch. I was only half hard and you could tell I was big."

Amy didn't say anything, so I remained on the offensive. "Hey, Amy?"


"Are you in bed?"


"You're naked." It was a statement and not a question.

"MMMmm . . . HHHmmm." And then more forcefully, "Yes, I'm naked."

"You have the new toy. Don't you?"

Before she could answer, I continued, "The toy that's the size of my dick?"

"Why are you doing this?"

"Hey, Amy. You called me. Remember?"

Amy didn't respond, so I asked, "Have you tried the toy yet?"

"No," she began. "I'm afraid."

"What are you afraid of Amy?"

"I'm afraid . . . I'm afraid . . .," Amy couldn't finish.

"You're afraid you're going to like it?"

"You must think I'm such a slut."

"I do, Amy. I think you're a slut. I think you're my slut. And Amy, I think you like being my slut."

When she sobbed into the phone, my dick almost exploded.

"Amy, do you think you could swallow this size cock?"

When she didn't answer, I taunted, "I didn't think so."

She quietly spoke up. "You're wrong. I'm . . . um . . . real good at that."

"Then give it a try and tell me."

Amy huffed, grunted and slobbered into the phone. She worked for over two minutes and was out of breath as she quietly answered, "I did it."

I was shocked at her answer, but didn't think she would lie. "You know where to put it next."


"Tell me," I insisted.

"I'm going to slid it into my pussy."

"Use the 'C' word, Amy."

"My cunt. My cunt. I'm going to slide this fat cock into my tight, wet cunt."

And before I could continue, she gasped, "Oh . . . so fucking . . . full. It . . . feels . . ."

I could hear Amy groaning as she worked the fake cock in. Pressing her, I asked, "Are you my slut?"

When she didn't answer, I asked again, "Tell me you're my slut."

"OOOOhhhh! It's all the way in. And I'm your slut."

"Turn on the vibrator."

Amy stiffeled a piercing yell as the vibrator turned on.

"Rub your clit and think of me. I'm pounding my cock into your pussy. It's jack hammering in and out. Your tits are flopping around as I pound you into the mattress.

"Oh, Chris. Fuck me. Fuck me hard. Make me cum."

"Cum for me, Amy. Be my slut and cum for me."

I was rubbing my cock and listening to Amy. "Yes . . . Here it . . . aaagggghhhh . . . cums. So . . . good. So . . . fucking . . . good. I'm . . . cumming . . . aaaagggainnnn.
Amy babbled for a full minute, before quietly resting.


She answered, "Yes."

"You need to know. This is the last night of phone sex. If you want more, if you want to be my slut, if you want to get fucked by a big dick, it's going to be in person."

"I won't do that."

"That's fine. But if you change you're mind, call me."

"I'm not going to call."

"Amy, I hope you change your mind."

I waited for Amy to say more. When a full minute of silence passed, I sadly said, "Bye, Amy." I hung up the phone.

Like every holiday season, the days flew by. Christmas and New Years came and went. I thought about Amy on occasion, but wasn't obsessed with the sexy mother.

On the Tuesday after New Years, I was in Vermont skiing. After a long, exhausting day on the slopes, my friends and I returned to my family's ski house. We showered and were getting ready for another night in town.

When I unhooked my cell phone from the re-charger, I saw I had three messages and two missed calls. I checked the voice mail first. They were all unimportant and could wait until I returned home in two days. The missed calls peaked my interest. They were from Amy.

She didn't call again until lunch the next day. I was in the ski lodge eating a hotdog when I felt the vibrating phone. "Hi, Amy."

She answered, "Um . . . Hi." Clearly nervous, she continued, "Um . . . could we talk?"

"I'm in Vermont with friends and will be skiing until Wednesday.

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