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    A cry on the night

    It was already late. Marc lay in bed, bare-chested, with only a bedside lamp on. His phone vibrated on the nightstand—an unknown number. He answered almost without thinking.

    “Hello?”
    There was no immediate response from the other end. Just breathing. Then, a low, stifled moan—distinctly feminine.

    “Mmmh… ah…”

    Marc sat up slightly, his heart suddenly racing.

    “Who is this?”

    The voice returned, broken, between gasps:

    “Don’t… don’t hang up… please…”

    Another moan followed, longer and deeper. There was the sound of rustling sheets, the movement of a body.

    “Are you listening?” she continued, her voice husky. “I… I know you’re in bed. I can picture your hand… on yourself…”

    Marc didn’t answer right away. His own hand had already slipped beneath the sheet. He remained silent, letting her voice carry him along.

    She moaned louder.

    “Fuck… that feels so good… I’m touching myself, thinking of you… of your mouth… your fingers…”

    The sounds grew wetter, more rhythmic. The movement of her hand between her thighs was unmistakable. She was no longer holding back.

    “Harder… ah… yes… just like that…”

    Marc pressed the phone to his ear, his breath coming in short gasps. He stroked himself in time with her moans. She could sense it—or perhaps she just knew.

    “You’re hard, aren’t you?… I know you are… Keep going… touch yourself for me…”

    Her gasps became more frequent, higher-pitched. She swore under her breath, her body tensing on the other end of the line. Marc closed his eyes. He imagines her—legs spread, fingers sliding, hips lifting against her own hand.

    “I’m… I’m going to… to climax… stay… stay with me…”

    A long, ragged moan travels through the phone. She reaches her climax with the receiver pressed to her ear, her breath coming in sharp gasps, nearly moved to tears by the pleasure. Marc follows close behind, his hand moving faster, until he, too, finds his release with a low, guttural groan—the phone still held tight against his ear.

    Silence. Only their breathing, mingling in the dark.

    Then, very softly:

    “Thank you…” she whispers.

    And the line goes dead.

    Marc lies there, the phone still in his hand, his heart pounding too hard, his body still vibrating. He still has no idea who she was.

    But he knows he will be waiting for the next call.
     
      Posted on : Nov 9, 2026
     

     
    Add Comment
    moselindianer1
    moselindianer1's profile
    Comments: 2,628
    Commented on Nov 10, 2026
    das will ich auch erleben,das ist so geil
     




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