Uh..ok…thanks anyway … So…now what to do…I needed that
dildo….so I asked another friend…hey ….would you do me a favor.?
Anything for you doll…(he talks like a petty gangster..and I still don’t
know what he does for a living..and I am afraid to find out..) Ok…would you
go to the Adult store and pick me up a dildo….Sure…no problem (hmmm this
was too easy!!!)(Hey ya know sweetie..we really ought to get together
sometime…you know you turn me on….)(Uh…uh..no thanks…lets just stay
friends ok?)(ok…just asking….)(So…when should we meet to pick it
up…)(I will call you Monday….) Needless to say….like every other promise
that this guy has made….he breaks this one and never calls…. Yours truly
had a decision to make….I NEEDED that dildo…no question about it….So
folks….I decided to BRAVE THE ADULT STORE!!!! I drove up to the place
around 6pm that evening….(and yes…there were around 15 cars parked
outside..as usual…) and sat there in the car getting my courage up.

Finally…I decided to take a deep breath and go in…Got out of the
car..and slinked my way to the door….went inside….THE PLACE WAS EMPTY….I
have no idea where all the other people were..and I don’t think I care to find
out..(grin) but my eye soon settled on a WALL FULL of dildos of every shape
size and color you could imagine…and some that even a vivid imagination
could not imagine!!!! There were big ones..and bigger ones..and HUGE ones
that make me shudder to think of….spiked ones…ones with cranks in the
bottom of the shaft to make em squirm….studded ones…ones with vibrators
inside of them… A regular museum for lovers of the male flesh….YES!!! My
cheeks were flushed and I got a little dizzy as I remembered the purpose of my
visit to this…this…PLACE…and I took one dildo down from the
wall…hefted it in my hand…and considered its purchase…and I though to
myself….Could I fit something like this into my hungering pussy? Would it
not split me in two??? or even worse??? NEXT one…This one was a bit
smaller…only around 10 inches…(and 10 inches is a LOT of cock,….) and it
had a metal crank on the end…I decided that I did not want to chance having
anything cold and hard like the crank bump into my swollen tissues…and I put
that one back. After long and careful examination…(too bad they didn’t have
a try before you buy policy) I chose what I consider to be the perfect
dildo…not TOO big, and very lifelike except for one little detail…it was
BRIGHT pink! With flaming cheeks I fumbled in my bag and paid the very bored
looking clerk the money for the dildo..and then left the store….

I ran into a problem…if I came home with a package…it might cause some
comments….so…I tried to place the dildo in my bag which is by no means a
small one….The damn thing wouldn’t fit…..at least not right away….I do
confess that eventually I did jam it into my bag..and came home…..and got
the thing…the dildo…(excuse me) put away in a safe place… So now I am
the proud owner of a dildo…..and I got it myself…..and braved the awful
reputation of the adult store…. But I still wonder…..where the hell were
the rest of the people????? Who knows..maybe I will have to go back there
someday…and then I will find out…… Vibrators anyone????

I rewound the tape to the beginning of the shower scene,
turned the TV and recorder off and moved to my own bathroom. I
lit some candles, saved in the bathroom for special nights,
turned off all the other lights and filled the tub with water,
scenting it with a soothing bath oil Luke had given me. The
t-shirt came off as I slipped into the warm water and felt its
gentle caress. As I lay in the water remembering the scenes of
the shower and recalling the vision of the newly bared mons and
lips, my body took on a new sensitivity.

—-
As you can tell, phone sex is not for anyone with an aversion to
four-letter words. You also have to be extremely comfortable with
masturbation. It also helps if you’re vocal when you climax.
John always tells me how many times he spurts when he comes and then
after a few endearing words and a lot of teasing, we hang up. I would
recommend phone sex to anyone who’s looking for a way to add variety to
their sex life. In fact, I have recommended it.
As I mentioned before, some of my friends are aware of my
relationship with John. The most common question is, how do we keep the sex
from growing stale — after all, we’ve been doing it for almost two years. Well,
there are several ways to vary phone sex. We describe what we’d do in various
positions or acts of sex. For instanced, my sumptuous, very sensual
description of tit-fucking.
“I’ll spread almond oil on your hard, hot cock and then rub it all
over my tits until they glisten. My hard nipples will shine in the
candlelight. You’ll straddle me and press your dick against my chest. I love
how stiff and hot it feels.
“I’ll lift my tits up so that they press against either side of your
cock and you’ll slide it back and forth. It’ll be warm and slick — almost as
good as my pussy. I’ll flick the head of your cock with my tongue as you
thrust forward. Then I’ll press my tits even harder against you and play with
the nipples. When you come you’ll thrust it into my mouth and I’ll suck every
single precious drop from you.
John has also instructed me on how to use my vibrator. There were
interruptions with that one, however. My cat likes the sound of the vibrator,
and he kept nuzzling my chin and purring, knocking the phone off my shoulder.
Then one night when I called John he had just put a porn film on his
VCR. He described the action (a threesome) to me and we both got off. That
gave me the idea of copying one of my favorite porn films, “The Grafenburg
Spot.”
We watched the flick together, John in Chicago and me in New York,
and we had achieved our goal within the first ten minutes of the film.
Because of the distance provided by the telephone, maybe we’re both
more uninhibited than we might usually be. In any case, the relationship has
led me to try other scenarios I previously wasn’t much interested in. One of
those was a threesome. One night — inevitably — there was a woman with him
when I called. John put Cathy (he seems to like girls with cheerleader
names — Debbie, Cindy, Cathy) on his wireless phone. With all three of us
describing the moves or giving orders, I listened intently and avidly while
Jim and Cathy fucked each other passionately and I came feverishly.
Unfortunately, I felt a little lonely afterward since he had someone
there to continue the good times with or cuddle up with after the connection
was broken, whereas I again had an empty bed.
Another first was a threesome on my end. One evening I was at the
apartment of one my closest friends. We had been drinking and talking about
sex, as usual. In a fit of honesty I told her about my relationship with
John. She thought it was great.
We drank a little more and went on watching Paul Newman in some
movie. We kept wishing we had a man with us, and even tried to reach of
couple of men we knew, but without success. Then I hit on the idea of phoning
John. He was all for it. I’m not surprised.
Tina and I sat on her kitchen floor (she had only one phone and it
was in the kitchen). We were naked and drunk and horny. The linoleum was cold
and the room was dark. John’s voice sounded extra resonant and sexier than
ever. After the introduction was made, we giggled and waited for someone to
start something.
Suddenly, Tina leaned over and sucked my nipple, very gently.
“Oh!” I exclaimed.
“What’s the matter?” John asked.
“She’s — oh! She’s sucking on my tit,” I told him.
“Do you like it?”
“Actually, yes. Do you?”
“I love it. If you like it, what’s the problem?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t expect it. I thought we were all just going
to masturbate together.”
“Relax. Enjoy it.”
“Okay.”
“So tell me what she’s doing.”
“She’s got her hand on my pussy. She’s playing with me.”
“Does it feel good?”
“Yes. Very good. Mmmmm..”
“Do you think you’ll come?”
“I always come.”
“Are you horny?”
“I’m always horny.”
“What’s she doing now?”
“She’s licking me. John, I’ve never done this before.”
“How does it feel?”
“It feels good. I wish it were you.”
“Now what’s happening?”
“Tina’s licking my clit and finger-fucking me.. John I’m going to
come now.”
“Now you should reciprocate,” John said.
He listened while I gasped in a paroxysm of pleasure. Tina raised her
head and kissed me on the lips so I could taste my juices.
Tentatively, I reached out and touched her pussy. It was wet and
warm, much like my own. Touching it was strangely familiar, but still I was
unsure of what to do. Under John’s guidance I brought Tina — and him — to
orgasm. And Tina pushed me over the edge once again.
Then we started on the oral stuff. First I stood up while Tina — at
John’s command — parted my pussy lips and licked me up and down. Then she
lay down on the kitchen floor and I straddled her head. We went into a sixty-
nine position with John telling me what to do and listening to the slurp of
Tina’s dripping cunt, which smelled similar to mine — not too strong or fishy
like girls I had stood near in the gym. I made her scream with pleasure so
that John could hear her all the way in Chicago. She went to work on me with
a vengeance and John shot off yet again.
Because the call was getting expensive we hung up and Tina and I sat
on the linoleum, which was wet with sweat and love juices. We were both still
very horny but not much interested in each other alone. John’s aural presence
had been the catalyst, and we were not inspired to proceed without another
man’s presence.
So we went to separate beds satisfied at how bold we had been and yet
not totally satisfied for lack of physical contact with a man.
I wonder if I’ll ever find a New York lover as open and as much of a
friend as John is.
I wonder if John will ever come to New York so that I can finally get
under the covers with him and play submarine captain — you know, up his
periscope.
More than that, I wonder if John and I will have as good a time in
person as we do over the phone. I know that I want to give it a try.

Archive-name: Solo/talking.txt
Archive-author: Lena
Archive-title: Phone Call

It’s hard for me understand. I’ve got to get a grip on myself. I’ve got to
figure it out. How can someone, so far away, a thousand miles or more, generate
such feelings. And yet I felt the ache, the moisture, the swelling.

It was a hot July night, humid, dark, without a moon.I had finished my bath
and slipped on my favorite old t-shirt. I turned the light down to where it
was just a faint glow. Expecting his call, I was sitting in my easy chair, one
leg thrown over its arm, my head laid back, my eyes closed when the phone
rang. The call started just like others. Where he was now. Where he would be
next week. We talked about our business, and our mutual hobby, computers.
We’re both pack rats, always running out of space because we can’t get rid of
anything. Always moving files and programs from one area to another, always
reorganizing. We spoke about a photo he had sent me of himself. But there
seemed to be something else going on. Something I couldn’t quite put my
finger on, and then…

“Lena. Would you do something for me? One little thing?” A pause. and
before I could reply, “Would you touch your nipple while we talk?”

I felt stunned, like I had been hit. Not by a fist or anything violent, more
like a shock wave. Something was being pulled from me. Something I wasn’t
sure I wanted to let out. I don’t know. I can’t explain it. I could feel the
heat in my face. My heart seem to beat harder or at least I became aware of
its beat. Would I do it? Could I reply?

“Ok.” I don’t know how long it took me to get that one word out.

“And would you imagine that it is my hands cupping your breast, holding it
up so that my lips brush the nipple like edge of a chalice.”

A fog seem to enter the room. A mystic fog. I was becoming encased in it. It
was beginning to shut out the rest of the world. My hand trembled as it
moved up my shirt to my breast. I squeezed, held myself tight for a minute,
imagining it was his hand, his power that pressed against me. Then I moved
to my nipple, already hard, first taking it between two fingers to sense and
feel its response, and then beginning a soft stroking through the cloth.

“Ok”. What was happening to me? I could feel his lips on me, gently sucking,
kissing. His teeth brushing my nipple. The heat of his mouth on my breast.
My hand reached to the back of his head and pulled him to me. He was there
and yet …he wasn’t.

“Lena?”

I couldn’t answer.

“Lena?”

My mind pleaded, “No, please, no..”

“Lena?”

“Yes.”

“Now take you hand and touch your clit. Just touch it and feel me there.”

My lips parted as my tongue returned moisture to them. My fingers moved
down across my mons, to the hood of my clitoris. My pelvis let me know of
its presence as a dull ache began to rise. Fear caused my body to shiver. But
fear of what? My fingers pressed against the hood and as they did my whole
pussy moved. A velvety moisture began to seep between my labia, their
swelling unable to keep it in. He couldn’t see me but his presence caressed
me. I could feel his hot breath between my legs as I pulled the lips gently out,
massaging one against the other. How could I be doing this? I was losing
control. I had to stop.

“Ok.”

“Now feel me.”

“I do.”

Quiet…no words.

I didn’t know what to say. I had to stop and think about what was happening,
why it was happening. No harm was there and yet it was …dreamlike…it was
frightening.

“I’ve got to go now.” I couldn’t leave it at that. My words were a whisper.
“But I’ll tell you something. Tonight, when I go to sleep, I’ll hold one breast
and think of this phone call.” My face was on fire.

“And that it is my hand?”

“Yes.”

“And that it is my cock next to you, hard, pressing against you?”

“Lena?”

“Lena?”

“Yes…I will.”

“Good night Lena. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Good night. Sleep tight.”

I hung up the phone. My heart was pounding. My brain was swimming. My
clit was ablaze with its demand. My breast felt the pain caused by my own
unconscious squeezing, as my newly freed hand had fond its way beneath my
shirt. I was covered with sweat. My legs were now spread even more as my
other hand continued to slowly massage and stroke my pussy, sometimes
stopping and just holding it in my hand, pressing against myself. The
moisture first covered the labia and then the finger that gently moved up
and down between them. My vagina wept its tears as it wished my fingers to
its opening and then…inside. I could feel the ridges and their swollen
sensitivity. I didn’t have to go deep. Response was everywhere.

I pressed my breast even harder as one finger began to move within me. What
would he be doing now. Would he be watching TV, his feet propped up,
having a drink or just brushing his teeth, getting ready for bed. Or would his
hand be moving up and down his cock, feeling it get harder, imagining it was
my hand or my lips stroking him? Could he feel the hair from my head
brushing against his legs? Were my nipples between his lips? .Were my fingers
sensing his swelling need, caressing his balls as the sacks softened in my
hand? Would his eyes be closed as he tasted my juices? Would his cream burst
out, covering his abdomen, my hand, my breast?

The fog is everywhere as I realize I am entering a new space, a mystic space,
a space of serene sensuality. What I seek will be mine. I can now take my
time. There is no urgency. My fingers move slowly, carrying me deeper into
my mind. The feeling in my vagina mixes carnal eroticism with pain and both
with a sense of soft floating. I’m a passenger adrift within my pelvis, my
pelvis afloat within my mind, feeling and experiencing from within. My brain
has become a sexual organ. My vagina, clitoris, labia, fingers, breasts, all
there, reaching for each other, coming together. My breathing is now deeper,
my heart pounding through my breast. And yet…I could stay this way for
ever. A rapture of sexuality has enveloped me.

I allow the orgasms to begin. I can feel my fingers being pulled inside. My
spasms erupt and then again, and again and again. My hands presses harder.
Still more and then more. I swim in an ocean of sensuality, eroticism, lust. I
am naked, and its waters bathe me.

The haze lifts a little. I realize I’m still in my chair. I’ve got to get
to bed. I’ve got a lot to think about. But not now. I seem to have lost control.
I stumble and reach for the wall as I move to the bedroom. All because of a
phone call.

I lay between my sheets with a promise to keep. My hand cups and softly
presses my breast. My eyes close. I sigh.

Good night. Sleep tight.
–

taken from glorious site Wild Fucking Toys
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