Message-ID: <24314asstr$959494204@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Message-ID: <20000528000136.686.qmail@web4601.mail.yahoo.com> From: A B MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Subject: {ASSM} The call (M-solo, F-solo) by Phoenix Date: Sun, 28 May 2000 02:10:04 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, apuleius This story contains explicit descriptions of sexual content. If you are offended by such things, or it's illegal for you to see them, then stop right here and find something else to read. (c) 2000 the author. This story may be freely reproduced in any manner that does not make anybody any money except, perhaps, me. Please leave this notice attached if you reproduce it so that others will not unwittingly distribute this story in a manner that violates it, me, or that gu named Ralph. "Hello?" "Hey." "Hey." Definitely a change in tone, as she recognized his voice on the other end of the phone line. "What1s up?" "Not much. You know, the usual. Finally got my database app to work. That was cool. What's going on with you?" Water ran in the background. Something banged, perhaps a cabinet door. "Just taking my finals. I'm ready to be out of here. GRAD-U-A-TION. Then putting on my bar. I'll be a lieutenant. Still doesn't feel real." His voice held a lot more enthusiasm than hers. "You GO, boy." Was she laughing at him? "Then you'll be off to parts unknown, huh?" "Well, not really. They're sending me to Sheffeild. God, I hate Texas. New Mexico. Arizona. California. All those states that border Mexico." "Why? I love Texas." That was almost enthusiasm, in her voice. Maybe that was dishes rattling. A dog barked. "Remember that scene in _Selena_, where the saleslady is sure that she can't afford the dress, just because she's hispanic?" "Yeah?" "Well, they treat me like that. Only, cause I'm a hispanic guy, they act like I'm gonna steal that dress. Okay, well, maybe not a dress, but you know." "Um, yeah. So what else have you been up to?" "Not much. Just watching TV. My roommate is cooking dinner." "What's he having?" That smile in her voice again. Sounded like she might be walking around, talking on a cordless phone. "Pancakes, looks like." "Ummmn, nutritious." The dog was still barking. "Hey, dumb fuck, I can't see the TV!!! Well, fuck you too! Hey, how did we do this last time so that I could talk on the phone in the other room? It'll reach? You serious? Ok, yeah, it does reach. All right." "You still there? I've moved the phone into my room, so I can have a little privacy." "That's good." Her voice was smiling again. Funny how a voice could smile. "About what you said before..." "I said a lot of things before. I think we talked for a couple of hours. At least." A door shut. "Right before you left." "About...?" The dog had stopped barking. "You know, you said how you think of me sometimes when you..." He trailed off. "About the fact that I got off really hard when I masturbated while thinking of you?" How could she say that so matter-of-factly? "Well, yeah." "What about it?" Woof. Woof woof. "What were you thinking when you did it?" "You really wanna know?" "Yeah." "I imagined that I was talking to you on the phone, telling you exactly what I was doing to myself." Her voice had dropped quite a bit, in both tone and volume. "Really?" His had not. "Really." "Like what were you doing to yourself?" There was a low laugh from her end of the phone line. "You want to hear what I do when I masturbate? Is that it?" "Yes." "Hang on." A door squeaked. The barking stopped abruptly. "Here boy. In you go. Good boy." The door slammed. A few minutes of silence. A quieter door opened, then closed. More silence. The swish of fabric rustling over itself, or other fabric. The faint sound of a body settling onto a mattress. "I'm lying on my bed." Her voice was low, and slower than it had been before. He said nothing, waiting. "I'm kind of lying on my side. I'm touching my butt. Stroking it, squeezing a little. I'm not wearing anything." "Yeah?" His voice was not as steady. "Yeah. Now I'm touching myself from behind. God, I'm wet already." She sounded genuinely surprised. "Go on." "I'm running my hand up my side. I'm turning over on my back. I've got one breast in each hand. Mnnn." Near silence, except for breathing. "Do you ever think of me while YOU are masturbating?" She normally sounded like she could be from anywhere, but as she got more turned on, her voice bore a hint of the Old South, like a whiff of honeysuckle on the evening breeze. It was not the irritating rednecky twang of some Southern dialects, but an earthy drawl that was as relaxed as a bench resting in the shade of an ancient moss-draped oak. "Yes. All the time." "What do you think about?" Her breathing was more pronounced. "Well, uh, I think about maybe starting with your lips. Kissing you. Then moving to your neck. Nibbling. Then moving to your breasts. Staying there a while. I like breasts." "I know." "How did you know?" "It was the look in your eye. Then what?" "I'd move lower. Maybe stay THERE a while, too." "Where?" The laugh was back. "You know. Eating your pussy." "Oh, my. My hands are moving lower, stroking my ribs." "I have a finger in my navel. I'm playing with the ring. What are you doing?" "I'm stroking myself. It's kind of difficult, reaching down my shorts." "Take them off." How did that sound so much like a command, in such a soft, sensual voice? "I'm moving my hands lower. Stroking the shaved part that I keep like that for bikini season. It's very smooth and soft. What are you doing now?" "I'm playing with myself." "How?" "I'm running one hand up and down my cock. The other is playing with my balls." "Mnnn. I'm stroking the part where the hair grows now, teasing myself. The hair there is really short. Do you like that?" "Yes." "Hey, if I cut out on you, it's because I'm cumming. I can't breathe when I'm cumming, so you probably won't hear much." "Okay." "Now I'm running my finger around the very edge of my outer lips, slowly. Slowly. I like a slow buildup." "Really?" "Yes. As I get more turned on, the inner lips are swelling, so even though I'm not doing anything different with my finger, I am teasing the inner lips now." He made a strangled sound, perhaps. "Now I'm running my finger vertically up and down my slit. At the bottom of every stroke my finger gets wetter. I'm VERY wet. At the top of each stroke, I just barely touch my clit with the wet finger. Mnnnn. It's getting so slick." Her breathing was heavy and unsteady. It was the only sound on the line for more than a minute. "I'm rubbing my clit now. Back and forth, around and around." A quick inhalation, followed by a noisy, drawn-out, stuttering exhalation. Another quick inhalation, stuttering exhalation. And another. A gasp. "I'm sticking my fingers inside myself." Her breath, being sucked noisily into her lungs, then just as noisily released. "What are you doing?" "Rubbing my cock." "I1m rubbing my clit again." "Oh. Mnnn." Her voice rose in pitch at the end of each "word." "Mnnmph." Silence. It seemed to last for one minute, then two. Panting, then, "Hello! Hope I didn't bore you there." "Er, no." "I came really hard. I thought I might suffocate or something." "Yeah?" "Yeah." "Um, I'm not done." "What do you mean?" "I feel cheated if I don't come at least twice." "Really?" "Really. I'm rubbing my clit some more. Ummmn." Her breathing was irregular again. It became even more irregular. "Still rubbing it." The stuttering exhalations. Silence. "Mnnn. Wow. I think that was even better." "You got off again?" "Yeah. Did you get off?" "No, my roommate tried to open the door when I was about to." "That sucks." "Yeah." "Hey, look. I've gotta get up at 4:30. It's getting late. I'll talk to you later." "Yeah, later." "Nite." Click. __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Kick off your party with Yahoo! Invites. http://invites.yahoo.com/ -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+