149 lines
6.6 KiB
Plaintext
149 lines
6.6 KiB
Plaintext
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The phone call.
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It's hard for me understand. I've got to get a grip on myself. I've got to
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figure it out. How can someone, so far away, a thousand miles or more, generate
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such feelings. And yet I felt the ache, the moisture, the swelling.
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It was a hot July night, humid, dark, without a moon.I had finished my bath
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and slipped on my favorite old t-shirt. I turned the light down to where it
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was just a faint glow. Expecting his call, I was sitting in my easy chair, one
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leg thrown over its arm, my head laid back, my eyes closed when the phone
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rang. The call started just like others. Where he was now. Where he would be
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next week. We talked about our business, and our mutual hobby, computers.
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We're both pack rats, always running out of space because we can't get rid of
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anything. Always moving files and programs from one area to another, always
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reorganizing. We spoke about a photo he had sent me of himself. But there
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seemed to be something else going on. Something I couldn't quite put my
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finger on, and then...
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"Lena. Would you do something for me? One little thing?" A pause. and
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before I could reply, "Would you touch your nipple while we talk?"
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I felt stunned, like I had been hit. Not by a fist or anything violent, more
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like a shock wave. Something was being pulled from me. Something I wasn't
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sure I wanted to let out. I don't know. I can't explain it. I could feel the
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heat in my face. My heart seem to beat harder or at least I became aware of
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its beat. Would I do it? Could I reply?
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"Ok." I don't know how long it took me to get that one word out.
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"And would you imagine that it is my hands cupping your breast, holding it
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up so that my lips brush the nipple like edge of a chalice."
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A fog seem to enter the room. A mystic fog. I was becoming encased in it. It
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was beginning to shut out the rest of the world. My hand trembled as it
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moved up my shirt to my breast. I squeezed, held myself tight for a minute,
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imagining it was his hand, his power that pressed against me. Then I moved
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to my nipple, already hard, first taking it between two fingers to sense and
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feel its response, and then beginning a soft stroking through the cloth.
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"Ok". What was happening to me? I could feel his lips on me, gently sucking,
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kissing. His teeth brushing my nipple. The heat of his mouth on my breast.
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My hand reached to the back of his head and pulled him to me. He was there
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and yet ...he wasn't.
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"Lena?"
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I couldn't answer.
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"Lena?"
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My mind pleaded, "No, please, no.."
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"Lena?"
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"Yes."
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"Now take you hand and touch your clit. Just touch it and feel me there."
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My lips parted as my tongue returned moisture to them. My fingers moved
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down across my mons, to the hood of my clitoris. My pelvis let me know of
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its presence as a dull ache began to rise. Fear caused my body to shiver. But
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fear of what? My fingers pressed against the hood and as they did my whole
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pussy moved. A velvety moisture began to seep between my labia, their
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swelling unable to keep it in. He couldn't see me but his presence caressed
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me. I could feel his hot breath between my legs as I pulled the lips gently out,
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massaging one against the other. How could I be doing this? I was losing
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control. I had to stop.
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"Ok."
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"Now feel me."
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"I do."
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Quiet...no words.
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I didn't know what to say. I had to stop and think about what was happening,
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why it was happening. No harm was there and yet it was ...dreamlike...it was
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frightening.
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"I've got to go now." I couldn't leave it at that. My words were a whisper.
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"But I'll tell you something. Tonight, when I go to sleep, I'll hold one breast
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and think of this phone call." My face was on fire.
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"And that it is my hand?"
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"Yes."
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"And that it is my cock next to you, hard, pressing against you?"
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"Lena?"
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"Lena?"
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"Yes...I will."
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"Good night Lena. I'll talk to you soon."
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"Good night. Sleep tight."
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I hung up the phone. My heart was pounding. My brain was swimming. My
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clit was ablaze with its demand. My breast felt the pain caused by my own
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unconscious squeezing, as my newly freed hand had fond its way beneath my
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shirt. I was covered with sweat. My legs were now spread even more as my
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other hand continued to slowly massage and stroke my pussy, sometimes
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stopping and just holding it in my hand, pressing against myself. The
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moisture first covered the labia and then the finger that gently moved up
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and down between them. My vagina wept its tears as it wished my fingers to
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its opening and then...inside. I could feel the ridges and their swollen
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sensitivity. I didn't have to go deep. Response was everywhere.
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I pressed my breast even harder as one finger began to move within me. What
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would he be doing now. Would he be watching TV, his feet propped up,
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having a drink or just brushing his teeth, getting ready for bed. Or would his
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hand be moving up and down his cock, feeling it get harder, imagining it was
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my hand or my lips stroking him? Could he feel the hair from my head
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brushing against his legs? Were my nipples between his lips? .Were my fingers
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sensing his swelling need, caressing his balls as the sacks softened in my
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hand? Would his eyes be closed as he tasted my juices? Would his cream burst
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out, covering his abdomen, my hand, my breast?
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The fog is everywhere as I realize I am entering a new space, a mystic space,
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a space of serene sensuality. What I seek will be mine. I can now take my
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time. There is no urgency. My fingers move slowly, carrying me deeper into
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my mind. The feeling in my vagina mixes carnal eroticism with pain and both
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with a sense of soft floating. I'm a passenger adrift within my pelvis, my
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pelvis afloat within my mind, feeling and experiencing from within. My brain
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has become a sexual organ. My vagina, clitoris, labia, fingers, breasts, all
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there, reaching for each other, coming together. My breathing is now deeper,
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my heart pounding through my breast. And yet...I could stay this way for
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ever. A rapture of sexuality has enveloped me.
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I allow the orgasms to begin. I can feel my fingers being pulled inside. My
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spasms erupt and then again, and again and again. My hands presses harder.
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Still more and then more. I swim in an ocean of sensuality, eroticism, lust. I
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am naked, and its waters bathe me.
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The haze lifts a little. I realize I'm still in my chair. I've got to get
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to bed. I've got a lot to think about. But not now. I seem to have lost control.
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I stumble and reach for the wall as I move to the bedroom. All because of a
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phone call.
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I lay between my sheets with a promise to keep. My hand cups and softly
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presses my breast. My eyes close. I sigh.
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Good night. Sleep tight.
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Lena.
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