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From: tariat@aol.com (TariaT)
Subject: {ASSM}  Phone Sex  by Taria
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PHONE SEX

by Taria

for a Special Someone
_________


"So then Sandman comes in, sweet-talks me some, and then we jump in the sack
and screw our brains out."

"THIS is your big fantasy?"

"Well..."

"For crying out loud, Janey, that's just like his story!"

"Hey -- I LIKED his story."

"Me too, but there must be more than THAT."

"Why?  Too vanilla?"

"Vanilla City."

"I happen to LIKE vanilla."

"Look -- it's not like I'm saying you have to jump right into Chocolate
Double-Fudge Rocky Road.  But maybe a little Mocha Chip or Cookies n' Cream
would add something, you know?"

"Hmm.  How 'bout he drags me into the elevator by my hair, rips off my clothes,
and takes me by force right there in front of the security camera while the
guard's watching downstairs?"

"As if!  You could never pull it off, 'specially not with Gentle Ben."

"I guess you're right.  *SIGH*  At this rate I'll never even reach June, let
alone 'Janey's July.'  Next thing you know I'll be writing 'Janey's Little
Whorehouse': MMM+F, pedo, incest."

"Don't get silly.  C'mon -- don't you have anything else?  How about fantasies?
 Don't you have any fantasies you'd just love to try?"

"We-elll..."

"Famous people?"

"I don't know..."

"Paul Newman?"

"Too old."

"Brad Pitt?"

"Too vapid."

"Leonardo DiCaprio."

"Eeeeuw!  It'd be like seducing a Little Leaguer."

"He IS twenty-three, you know."

"Ick.  Besides, even for midgets he's pretty undersized."

"Who, then?!"

"How 'bout Tom Selleck?"

"Oh, Vanilla BEAN!  Come ON -- tall, nice, and that smile... It'd be like
Sandman, but with a moustache."

"How d'you know he doesn't have a moustache?"

"!!!  He sent you a PICTURE?!?  Well, excuse me, Miss Congeniality.  Not all of
us get courted by tall handsome strangers.  Hang on 1 sec..."

	~

	~

	~

"Errr-krrr, Erm brrrk."

"Sorry?"

"Err srrd, Oh-Kay, I'm Back."

"What're you eating over there?"

"--ss k---"

"I can't hear you.  Speak up, now."

"ICE CREAM, okay?  I ran to the freezer and grabbed a pint of Haagen Dasz. 
Hell, if you get to be the popular one then I get to be the fat one.  That's
the deal."

"What flavor?"

"Heh.  Vanilla."

"Slut!  You take back that stuff about 'vanilla' right now, before I tell
everybody how Professor Hotstuff is really just another Miss Vanilla!"

"Speaking of which...?"

"What?"

"We were discussing your fantasy."

"Oh.  Right.  If you must know, there is this one..."

"C'mon now, don't leave me hanging.  Spill!"

"OK.  A tittie-fuck.  There.  I said it.  Happy?"

"A ti--?  OH!  I get it.  You mean him... and you..."

"Yeah.  It's not like I've ever been able to... Let's just say it's an
experience I always wanted to try for myself.  Successfully, I mean.  I have
tried, but..."

"Mrrrrgh.  Rrrk.  *ULP*  Look.  Janey.  How many times have I told you that you
worry too much about your boobs?  What is it they say -- 'size doesn't
matter'."

"Easy for you to say."

"Aw, that's not fair.  Do I strike you as the Pam Anderson type?"

"No... But at least you have something to work with!"

"Get real.  It's not like a few cup sizes worth of fatty tissue is anything to
brag about.  Besides, have you ever tried to have a conversation with a man
whose eyes are glued to your chest?"

"Nooo..."

"Don't sound so wistful.  It's a pain in the ass, and it's really annoying. 
And tit-fucking's not such a big loss anyway."

"Why not?"

"First of all, he has to get on top of you so that his... thing is positioned
properly, right?"

"Doesn't sound so bad to me so far."

"Wait until some guy plants his knee in your stomach while he's trying to get
there.  Then he ends up sitting his ass right on your ribs so you can't
breathe."

"I get the picture.  Still--"

"Lemme finish.  Now, what does the guy need to get off?"

"Friction, I guess."

"Score one for the Amazon.  But too much friction and his little wonkie's gonna
get all red and sting-y."

"Well, duh.  So lubricate the sucker."

"Duh yourself.  Ever have a slimy chest full of saliva or jelly or some other
goop?"

"I have three kids."

"I withdraw the question.  But you know what I mean.  So there you are, on your
back, suffocating, with a clammy chest.  Then he pokes you with his wonkie --
stop snorting there.  Fine.  His 'willie'.  Better?"

" *SNORT*  Much."

"So he pokes you with his willie and sorta prods around until you kind of
squish 'em together--"

"Mmmm... yeah, baby, go on..."

"Oh, grow up!  You perv.  You're just as obsessed with hooters as all the rest
of 'em."

"Maybe.  But with me it's voyeuristic avarice, not just horniness.  Let's just
say I'm projecting."

"Projecting about my projections?  Sounds like Boob Envy."

"Very funny."

"Say -- I once read in the paper about this Anthropologist who said men are
attracted to women's breasts because the cleavage looks like a backside."

"You have GOT to be kidding."

"Hee hee!  I'm totally serious.  Or he was.  Anyway, he said when guys see a
nice pair they get turned on, because they're really thinking of mounting the
female from behind."

"That is weird.  Science geeks are really reeeeeeally weird."

"Gotta wonder about HIS sex life."

"Probably does a lot of tit-fucking.  Which you didn't finish.  You left the
guy with his -- whad'ya call it? -- his Wonker all hanging out."

"Wonkie.  It's a technical term."

"Straight out of 'Scientific American.'  So after you squish together, then
what?"

"So you squish 'em together until he's cocooned, you know?  Like a tunnel."

"I get it.  The slick Tunnel of Luuuuve."

"Hah!  Exactly.  In my experience I've mostly sat there, squishing my tunnel
while he moves back and forth, back and forth, back and forth... After a while
your grip slips a little and then he loses the tunnel, and he's just waving his
willie around, making pathetic little noises until you re-grip."

"Oh, my."

"You're not kidding.  And you cannot, must not EVER laugh, no matter how much
you want to, not if you want any payback in the future."

"I already knew the No Laughing rule."

"Yeah, but it's harder when he's sitting on you and mewling."

"I see your point."

"To make a long story short, you basically lie there while he wiggles around
your clammy chest, and then he starts huffing until it goes off.  That's the
scary part."

"Scary?"

"Hell, yes.  Did you know that stuff shoots out at 28 miles an hour?  And guess
where it all ends up?"

"I... I never thought of that."

"All over, is where!  On your chest.  On your neck.  On your forehead.  Up your
nose."

"Eeyuch!"

"In your HAIR.  Eeeew!  I get the shakes every time I think about his stuff in
my hair.  It can take DAYS to get that out.  I prefer it when all the bodily
fluids stay down below where they belong."

"So no tit-fucking."

"Rrrrgh."

"Didn't your mother ever teach you not to talk with your mouth full?"

"Nrrrp."

"You know, for such a nice girl..."

" *GULP*  Hah!"

"What?"

"I just thought, 'what's the definition of a Nice Girl'?"

"One who puts it in for you."

"That's not bad!  I was going to say 'A girl who swallows.'  That's what made
me laugh."

"So... do you?"

"Do I what?  Swallow?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Um... sometimes, I guess.  It's not up there on my Top Five."

"Why not?"

"Besides the taste and the consistency, you mean?"

"It's not THAT terrible."

"I never said it was.  It's just not my favorite thing, that's all.  Mrmmmmm. 
Grrme Hrrrgn Drrz rrny day."

"Not only is this call gonna cost an arm and a leg, but you're also going to
gain a hundred pounds by the time we hang up."

" *SNIFF*  You mean if I look like a sumo wrestler you won't love me any more?"

" *SNORT* "

"I thought this was unconditional love."

"Not if you start to look like Jabba the Hutt, it isn't."

"Boy -- you're a MEAN career counselor."

"I just tell it like it is, sweet thing."

"So what do YOU think of the taste?"

"Of Haagen-Dasz?"

"No, you beanpole.  Of guys' squirt."

"It's not so bad, not really.  Especially if you consider what they get when
they're messin' around 'Down There'."

"Whaddaya mean by THAT?"

"You know."

"Are you insinuating that I taste BAD?"

"Well, no... I just--"

"I'll have you know that my quim is a luscious tropical Garden of Delight."

"Ha!"

"Between my spread thighs lie the portals to the Gates of Heaven!"

"Ha! Ha!  Hehehe!"

"To taste my juices is to drink the Nectar of the Gods!"

"God, stop -- you're killing me here!"

"You're laughing at my pussy?"

"Ha-ha-huh-huh-hee-- No -- no, of course not."

"Now she's sulking.  There.  No more pussy for you."

"None for me?"

"That's right.  NO PUSS FOR YOU!"

"Aw, c'mon.  Don't get all insulted.  Let me make it up to you."

"No.  You were mean about how my little Pussy tastes, and she doesn't forgive
you."

"I'm sorry.  Really.  Tell her I apologize."

"Hmph."

"I do.  I'm sorry.  Hear me, Quim?  I'm sorry."

"Weeelllll..."

"Here.  Here's a kiss   *SMAK*   to make up."

"A kiss?"

"Sure.  A little kiss for your offended quim."

"-----"

"Taria?"

"-----"

"Taria?  You still there?"

"Mmmm."

"What?  What'd I say?"

"You know what I wish?"

"What?"

"I wish... No.  Forget it."

"Forget what?"

"You wouldn't... never mind."

"Tell me."

"I wish you would.  I mean, I wish you were here, and you really did.  Kiss me.
 There, I mean."

"Oh.  Um.  I--"

"Just forget it.  Forget I ever said that.  Let's just pretend I didn't just
totally embarrass myself by saying that."

"Why?"

"Because it was a dumb thing to say, that's why.  Here I am, talking to the
Straightest Woman in America--"

"Who, me?"

"Yes, you.  You said so yourself."

"Yes, well, I DID say that.  But..."

"No, no 'buts'.  It was just--"

"Taria."

"--a stupid--"

"Taria!"

"--moronic thing to--"

"TARIA!!!"

"What?"

"Hush.  Just... pipe down a minute."

"But-- I--"

"You are simply IMPOSSIBLE when you get all hyper like this.  Now, put away the
Haagen-Dasz."

"Why?  I... OK."

"No!  Wait!  I have a better idea.  Are you home alone?"

"You know I am.  Otherwise we wouldn't be talking like this where somebody
could eavesdrop."

"Good.  What are you wearing?"

"'What am I wearing'?  What is this?"

"Just TELL ME.  God, you are difficult sometimes."

"OK, OK.  I'm white t-shirt with four colored parrots on it that says "The
Celts Will Rise Again," a pair of soft grey sweatpants, no socks, and
underneath I'm wearing a boring white bra and panties.  More?  I have my
glasses on so I can see anything past the end of my nose, and my hair is a
mess, just all over the place."

"Fine.  Take off the t-shirt.  Please."

"Take off--?  All right, all right.  Just don't yell at me any more.  One...
sec...  There.  Now what?"

"Does your bra unhook in front or in back?"

"Um... Front today."

"I want you to rub your hands softly up your sides and across your belly.  Then
gently -- as gently as you can -- caress the curve of your breasts through your
bra.  Can you do that?"

"Uh-huh.  Wait -- let me put on the 'speakerphone' so I can use my hands. 
There.  I'm right next to the phone, up real close, so I don't feel so far away
from you.  My hands are moving... Now they're at my breasts, cupping them
gently, like you said."

"Are you all right?  You seem to be getting a little quiet over there."

"Mmm.  Yes, yes, I'm fine.  What now?"

"Keep caressing them.  Softly, softly..."

"Mmm."

"Are your eyes closed or open?"

"Um... open.  I'm looking at the phone, at the speaker where your voice is
coming from."

"Why don't you close them."

"OK.  Heehee.  I'll probably get all off-balance and fall down, though.  Can I
lie down on the carpet in here, on the floor?  I'll take the phone down here
with me, so I'm still right near the speaker."

"Sure."

"One second... All right.  I'm lying on my back on the floor with my head on a
little pink throw pillow, with the phone and the ice cream next to me, and my
eyes closed.  I wish I could see you, though."

"Me?  I'm in my bedroom, on the bed.  It's a mess right now, but I cleared the
bed by sweeping everything down onto the floor so I have some room.  If you
want, I'll lie down too."

"I'd like that.  What do you have on?"

"Nothing fancy.  Just jeans and a shirt."

"Take yours off too.  Take off your shirt and lie here next to me."

"All right."

"I'm lying next to you, still touching my breasts like you asked."

"Now I want you to move just the tips of your fingers to the clasp of your bra.
 Trail them over the exposed tops, the curvature of your breasts, and then down
to the center.  Now, slowly, bend the clasp out so it snaps, and then, as
slowly as you can, lift it free.  Can you do that?"

"Yes...  *SNIK*  ...It's open now."

"I've unfastened your brasseire, and now I peel the halves apart gradually,
revealing your bare breasts.  With the lightest touch I have I trace their
outline, using the backs of two fingers to graze the smooth warm surface."

"Oh... that feels so nice."

"Almost accidentally, I brush my fingers over your nipples as they travel up to
your cleavage, circumnavigating your globes."

"Aahh!"

"Then I deliberately take each nipple between two fingers and lightly squeeze
and rub, stimulating you."

"Ohhhh... They're getting hard... they're standing up already.  Oh, Janey...  I
wish you were here, SO much.  What are you doing, with your hands, for real?"

"Nothing much."

"Touch yourself, please... like you're touching me."

"If you want."

"Tell me."

"All right.  With my left hand I am gently rubbing the nipple of my left
non-existent breast."

"No!  Not like that!  I don't CARE if you have NOTHING there, if you think you
look like a twelve-year-old boy.  I just want you to feel what I feel, this
soft touch that is making me tingle all over my body.  I want to share this
with you."

"Mmmm... I... I do too."

"Are you aroused, at all?"

"Yes, a little."

"I wish I were there with you, caressing you with my hands.  I wish these were
your hands on me, not just mine."

"Me too."

"Oh, Janey, you have me so turned on right now.  Just your VOICE...  What
should I do now?"

"Mmmm... What do you still have on?"

"Just my grey sweat pants.  I can see you lying there on your bed, your long,
long legs in your jeans, your hands still touching your naked chest."

"That'd be about right...  Say, how's your ice cream doing?"

"My ice cream?!?  I have no idea.  It's probably all melted by now."

"Perfect.  Stop caressing yourself and pick it up.  Is the spoon still in
there?"

"Yes, it is.  Eek!  Cold container now resting on my stomach.  I have to say
this is less of a turn-on than a breast-rub, though."

"Just wait.  I want you to scoop a small spoonful of melted ice cream and
drizzle it onto your left nipple."

"It's going to end up on the carpet."

"The hell with the carpet -- you'll get some of that Stain-Out stuff and clean
it later."

"All righ-- YIPE!  Cold!  One Boob Sundae, as requested."

"Now put down the ice cream and push up your nipple until you can reach it with
your tongue."

"I had a feeling I knew where this was going.  You're lucky -- I can just
barely do that."

"Now close your eyes and lick, tiny slow licks."

"Ummm..."

"Do you feel me licking your nipple clean?"

"Uh-huh..."

"Oooo, so sweet, but with a teensy bit of salty you mixed in with the ice
cream.  Now I take the nipple between my lips and suck, ever so lightly, on
just the tip, the nipple."

"Oh..."

"Now the other one, the right one, the one without any ice cream.  Lick that
one too, and suck it, but harder."

"Ah!  Oh... if you were here I'd want you to do that for hours.  But my neck is
getting a crick, so I have to stop."

"I am SO jealous.  I have ALWAYS wished I could do that, like in those porn
movies."

"It's better if you're bigger than I am.  I tell you what -- take your thumb
and your index finger, and suck on them.  Get them really, really wet and
juicy."

"Mmmm."

"Now take the nipple of your non-existent left breast and rub it between your
slick fingers."

"Mmmmmmmmm."

"Can you feel me?  Can you feel my mouth?"

"It's not the same."

"I'll say it isn't.  But that's only because if I were with you I would be
devouring your wonderful tiny boobs with my tongue, and my lips, and tiny
nibbles with my teeth.  I've heard that small breasts are soooo sensitive."

"Uh-huh."

"Besides, I've never really tasted any before, and I'd rather start small
before I jump up to sucking on double-D's.  Just long licks up your nipples,
and little nibbles and kisses all the way up to your collarbone and your
shoulders, and then back again...  And maybe I stop for a minute and kiss your
neck, and your cheek, and I move across until my mouth is poised right over
your lips, and we look into each others' eyes, deeply."

"Uhhhhhh..."

"Oh, my... you're getting really aroused, aren't you?"

"Aaaahh... God, yes."

"I can hear it in your voice.  I want to kiss you so badly, Janey."

"Me too.  I want to taste your mouth, your tongue, your lips."

"Please...please..."

"What do you want?"

"I want YOU, all of you, and I want you NOW."

"All of me?"

"Every inch of that long, beautiful body of yours.  Please... take me now,
please.  I don't think I can stand any more."

"Your voice is pretty expressive, too."

"Janey -- PLEASE!!"

"Heh heh heh...  All right, all right.  Keep your shirt off."

"I can't believe you would torture me like this.  On the computer you were so
NICE!"

"That was just a facade.  Really I'm a sadistic domme housewife and mother. 
They call me the Massachusetts Mistress.  hey, I like that -- 'Mistress Janey'.
 That'd be wicked cool on my office door."

"How CAN you?!  I am lying here, half-naked, writhing on the carpet, and
insanely turned on.  Janey, if I don't get an orgasm soon..."

"Then what?"

"JANEY!!!"

"Okay, okay.  I give in.  Pull down your sweat pants, but leave them on, around
your ankles."

"Yes, Mistress!  Done."

"My, that was quick.  Now the panties."

"Too late -- I yanked 'em down with the sweat pants."

"Heeheehee.  You ARE getting desperate.  Now, let me see..."

"Janey?"

"What is it?"

"Could we stop telling me what to do, and instead could I hear about you?"

"Me?  Well--"

"I don't just want a fantasy -- I can do that by myself.  I want you.  For
real.  I want to cum, but together, with you.  Could we?"

"We-elll... I never have before.  Done this, I mean.  But I'm always open to
new experiences, especially if it's you on the other end of the line."

"Tell me, then."

"All right.  I'm lying on my bed, thinking of a nice medium lady with brown
eyes and brown hair and gold-rimmed glasses--not the icky kind--and an
absolutely wonderful mind."

"Don't be silly."

"I'm not being silly, not even the slightest bit.  And while I'm doing that,
I'm pulling these jeans I'm wearing down and, oh, hell, all the way off, and I
might possibly, with my left hand, rub the nipple of my left non-existent
breast again."

"Ohhhhh..."

"Now I'm putting my right hand down between my legs, where, lo and behold!"

"What?"

"It's kind of squeezing the outside lips of my great voracious quim together a
little and rubbing."

"Oh, yesssss..."

"Now it's working its way inside those lips until it finds a cute little nub."

"Oh, YES!  My clit's been waiting for AGES!"

"My little nub has, too.  Well, maybe it's not that little.  Now my hand is
rubbing gently, gently..."

"Oh, Janey..."

"And a little more..."

"Oh! You're making me feel SOOOO good... I'm getting soooo close..."
 
"And now I'm starting to get the most delicious feeling, and all the time, I'm
imagining that in fact I'm lying in bed with you, and it's YOUR hand doing all
these unspeakable things to me..."

"Oh! Oh! I want to lick you, and taste you, and kiss you..."

"GOD, Taria!"

"OH, sweetheart, this is... Aaaaah... ahhh... OH!"

"Yes!  Oh, Taria, are you going to...?"

"Oh yes, oh, I love you so much--"

"I'm cumming--"

"AAAAAAAAAAH!"

"Ta-- ah-- I love-- OH!  YES!!"

	~
	~
	~

"Whew!  That was... awe-inspiring."

"-----"

"Taria?"

"Uhhh?"

"You okay?"

"Nuh-uhh."

"What's the matter?"

"Uhhh... uh... Melted.  Puddle of Taria."

"Want me to come over and help lick her-- I mean, clean her up?"

"Hee."

"To weak even to laugh?"

"'Fraid so.  That was incredible."

"Me too."

"'m lucky."

"Me too."

"Lucky in love, lucky in luuuuve..."

"Don't start singing little songs.  You KNOW about me and those little
sing-songs."

"Janey n' Tar-ia sittin' in a tree..."

"P-H-O-N-I-N-G!"

"Stop!  Heeheehee!  Stop!  I'm too weak and emaciated for a giggle-fit."

"Emaciated?  After all that ice cream?"

"There's no calories when you eat ice cream in a deviant and perverted manner."

"Was THAT what we were doing?"

"You bet my sticky nipple."

"Well, you may be a sicko deviant pervert, but I love you."

"I love you too, even if you are an abnormally oversexed Amazonian athlete."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Jeez -- what TIME is it?!?"

"It's probably-- Oh boy, it IS late.  I'd better get back to 'Janey's May'
before I have to get back into 'Mom's Taxi' and get the kids."

"I understand... Shoot!  I'm late to pick up Mark!  He's going to KILL me!"

"Just tell him you were on the phone with me.  He'll understand."

"I sure hope not!  Say -- we never did come up with a good story plot for you,
did we?"

"Weeellll... I wouldn't say THAAAT..."

"But--  Oh.  OH!"

"Heh heh heh."

"You WOULDN'T!"

"All's fair, Dear, all's fair.  Don't worry -- I'll send you a copy by e-mail. 
Right AFTER I post it."

"Janey, you--"

"I what?"

"You're a woman after my own heart."

"I certainly am."

"Look -- just don't post anything rash until the next time we talk, all right?"

"I'm not sayin'."

"I'll get you my pretty..."

"Promises, promises."

" *SIGH*  'Got me a hard-headed woman.'  I'll talk to you soon."

"Can't wait."

"Bye."

"Bye."

*CLICK*

__________________

END




''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
e-mail: <TariaT@hotmail.com>

Web:   <http://members.aol.com/TariaT>


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