I sat in stunned reverie for quite a while as my cells regrouped, getting back to their business of managing my body after the all-hands-on-deck call to which they had just responded. I felt my stomach growl for a change. Other more urgent body parts had been vying for my attention up until Stacy’s, what . . . phone sex with me? Jesus.
Stacy and I began as office rivals a few years back, our minds a right mess after an up-and-coming asshole pitted us against one another in a senseless race for his preferential treatment. Once we put our heads together over a few drinks however, we realized quickly what was going on, and put that cretin in his place. One sexual harassment suit later and we never saw him again.
We quickly became confidants, and now consider each other to be best friends. I can’t think of anyone else who is closer to me, my estranged family included.
We often talk frankly about our personal lives with each other, and on one occasion even drunkenly fooled around. She was a total mess after a shitty breakup, and after a hat full of tequila and a night filled with raw soul-baring, we wiped away our salty tears and plunged into each other’s arms and underwear.
I can’t say that it wasn’t creamily fantastic, because it was. Most of that night was a blur, but I do remember lying together afterwards, out of breath and completely spent, thankful to have someone so dear and close to me sharing something so intimate and personal.
We never did anything like that again, but ever since we have been deep inside each other’s private sex lives as well, offering advice, consoling, providing a wing-woman, whatever, we had each other’s back. We knew the other’s fantasies and realities; we were there for each other.
But this phone thing was new.
And I liked it.
A lot.
It really hit me some time afterwards while I was torturing some unsuspecting pasta in a pot of boiling oil and water. I loved how her sexy voice spoke right into my inner ear and how those signals telegraphed a direct message instantly down to my sparking receiver. I could still hear her heady words, and more importantly her seductive tone, as I replayed them in my increasingly depraved mind.
I was still hot. I never replaced my panties, (fuck panties), and I stood in the kitchen feeling a solitary droplet of moisture slowly rappelling down my bare inner wall. I reached under my smooth black skirt and helped the little pearl to safety, depositing it on the end of my long tongue. Bad girl!
I was feeling out of control. I had just cum like a rocket ship and here I was starting all over again. What the hell was getting into me all of the sudden? Was it him, or was it me? Or was it her?
All I knew is that I wasn’t going to make it much past my late-night dinner at this rate. I actually leaned into the oven handle and started to grind my pelvis on it while I continued stirring my smoldering cauldron, the one on the stove.
The end of the handle pushed into my overly-sensitive clit, and I slowly titled my hips as I allowed my oven to have its way with me. Little sparks of energy shot through my limbs and I wondered if I could make myself cum again if I kept it up like this.
The hot steam from the boiling pot rose to caress my eyelashes, while the smell from my own steaming pot wafted up across my nose. I had to stop, my god!
I backed away from my static grinding partner and fished the ripe pasta from the water, placing their hot rubbery bodies into a colander in the sink. The delicious smell of the Italian staple was making my mouth water, and I dripped some extra virgin across the crowded bowl, infusing them with a slick slippery bath of green oil. Even my dinner was turning me on.
Against the grain I slowly scraped a block of parmesan along a thin sharp grater, causing feathers of cheese dust to float down into the shiny brown crock into which I had moved the slick orgy of pasta.
As I placed forkfuls of delicate tubes on my tongue, I found myself wondering what Stacy had thought after she hung up with me to board the train. I quickly downed the rest of my dinner as if it was my first meal of the day, and then I realized it actually was; how did it get to be past midnight?
I picked up my phone.
My fingers were actually shaking as I hit the call button, dialing Stacy again.
“Hey you,” is all she said to me, but I liked the way she said it.
“Hey.” It’s all I could think of, really.
“So, was that weird for you?” she asked me right away, trying to feel me out.
“Um, quite the contrary I think,” I said, feeling the words pulling themselves out of my mouth. “What are you doing?”
“Oh, I just force fed myself a very unsatisfying Healthy Entree, and now I am working on my second glass of Chardonnay,” she offered, conveying her displeasure in her evening’s stark agenda. “I hope you don’t think any less of me, about earlier I mean . . . I just started getting into it.”
“No shit you did,” I blurted out, quickly adding, “and so did I, obviously. I’ve got to say Stace, your voice in my ear like that was . . . amazing. I never knew.”
“I know,” she said back to me, “I was just teasing you at first, and I guess mostly just trying to keep my voice down in the crowded station, but then you started breathing into the phone, and like you said, right into my ear. It sounded so hot, and I think I was getting excited by it too. I started really getting into it . . . into hearing you getting off on it.”
“That was really fun Stace,” I started, slowly getting to my point for calling, “and I totally needed that. Also, I’m getting worked up all over again here, and I don’t know what to do. Would it be too weird for you if I were to, well, try my hand at talking to you . . . you know, like that, for a minute?”
“Grace!” she replied in shock, clearly caught off guard by my bold request. “Are you saying you want to talk dirty to me on the phone?”
“God, I know, right? But I totally do! Am I horrible?” I was ashamed, but still very aroused. I couldn’t help but press on. “Who else would I ever be able to try this out with Stace? I trust you. You don’t have to do anything, just let me go at it for a while and work off some of this steam, and you just listen. I just want to see what it was like for you, talking like that into the phone. It sounded exciting.”
“Jesus Grace,” she said after a pause, “it’s kind of weird to talk about it like this, but honestly I haven’t been able to think about anything else since. Hearing you boil over like that on the phone made me have to change out of my undies as soon as I got home.”
“It did?” I asked, loving the fact that she divulged this nugget of intimacy for me right then, “So, it must have been like being there next to me while I came in your ear or something, right? Like you were almost watching me . . . watching my fingers sliding around between my legs,” and then lower . . . “watching me fuck my juicy slit for all it was worth?”
I was doing it, and my heart raced as the F word rolled across my tongue into Stacy’s ear. The silence on the line led me to nervously continue . . .
“I could feel your whispery words practically licking my ear lobe Stacy,” I lowered my voice again and articulated carefully, “My clit practically jumped as you enunciated sexy words to me, like . . . LIPS . . . PUSSY . . . COCK. Oh those sweet syllables across your luscious lips made my juices flow Stacy, and I couldn’t help but stroke and tease and fuck my slippery wet pussy with you right there.”
I knew she was listening closely, as her breathing was changing pitch in my ear.
“Did you like knowing that your words were practically fucking me while you stood around in public? Did you hear me cumming for you Stace, moaning right into your ear?” I let out a soft sexy moan, slowly leaning back and parting my thighs, keeping my hand out of there for now. “Did you like hearing me in ecstasy as I actually exploded all over my wet fingers Stacy? Did you? Did you like it?”
“Mmmhmmm,” she softly murmured into the phone. I could tell that she was thoroughly relishing my words. I figured just starting in with the sexy talk would be the best way to break the initial awkward tension, and I was right, since she softly added, “I loved it.”
Oh those three little words really spurred me on.
“I know you did, you naughty girl, and now I want you to feel yourself like I was doing Stacy . . . do it for me. Are you wet? I bet you are. I wish I could reach down and feel you for myself, just to make sure my words were hitting home.”
“Mmmm, keep talking Gracey.”
With pleasure.
“I think my words might be having the same effect on you Stacy, aren’t they? Isn’t it delicious?