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A lonely woman finds purpose in her boarders life.


I could only sit and look at her. "And you," she said, catching me somewhat by surprise. I hadn't really thought of myself as anything. She leaned back into my ear so that I could feel her breath. "You are an auralatilist."

"I'm a what?" I had no idea what she was talking about.

She giggled. A musical sound, and one that I was beginning to think that I could get used to hearing. "An auralatilist. A type of aurophile. A person who loves the sound of the spoken word. You, my friend, get excited by the sound of the spoken word."

She stood up and came behind me, her fingers running through my hair. She leaned down and whispered into my other ear. "It's perfect, Jack," she said. "You get to hear me talk dirty to you, I get to watch you stroke yourself, everybody's happy."

"Wha- what are you going to do?"

I could almost feel her smile grown bigger. "What do you think I'm going to do, Jack," she teased. "I'm going to fuck myself silly with my fingers while I talk you through the most amazing orgasm you've ever had!"

I heard two moans at once. The one from my throat and the one coming from between my legs. I swear, at that point I would have testified that my cock had literally jumped up and moaned for her attention. No one had ever talked that way to me. Hell, no one had ever talked to me for years, so all this at once was somewhat difficult to take in all at once.

"It's a beautiful arrangement, you know," she said, coming around in front of me. I suddenly felt very vulnerable as she kneeled in front of me. I had the crazy thought that she would just take me in her mouth from where she knelt, but I knew that's not what she wanted.

"Really, it is. You get what you've always wanted, I get my rocks off, and you're not even cheating on your wife."

"I'm not?" I asked. What a foolish question. She had me, and she knew it.

Her smile seemed more confident now. "Of course," she said. "How could it be?"

My cock's imaginary voice answered for me. "It's not! It's not!" it cried. At that moment I couldn't come up with an argument either.

She smiled, and then rocked back on her heels. She eased back into the seat opposite me, and began undoing the buttons on her blouse. Her pace was slow, deliberate, teasing. She had a crooked smile on her face as she continued revealing her cleavage to me. The look on her face told me that she wasn't doing this for my benefit, but for hers.

"Take it out," she said.

"What?" I asked, unsure I heard the question right, even though she had told me both verbally and nonverbally what she wanted.

She sighed. "I can't wait to see that wonderful white come erupt out of your cock all over your fingers."

I unzipped my pants and let the lustful monster inside go free. At the same time, I felt her project a violent "Yes!" to me as she squeezed one of her nipples. With one hand inside her blouse, keeping the whole of her breasts just out of view, she began raising the hem of her skirt.

"I can't tell you how much I love this, Jack" she said. Her skirt cleared the light blue cotton of her panties allowing her to place a fingernail under the elastic waistband. "I've always loved watching men come, you know. And I know they like watching me come too."

She pulled her panties to one side and showed me her pussy lips. Instead of concentrating on those lips, however, I found myself continually drawned to the lips on her mouth, watching her talk to me. Her eyes were almost completely closed, though she was fixed on me stroking myself.

"You wanna know how this all happened," she asked suddenly. "You wanna know how I found out how much I loved this?"

She obviously wanted to tell the story, and I wanted to hear it. "Yes," I croaked. My throat was suddenly extremely dry.

She grinned.

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