Phone Call
By Terri

It is still 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... 
"Terri. 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 seemed 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 seemed 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.
"Terri?"
I couldn't answer.
"Terri?"
My mind pleaded, "No, please, no.."
"Terri?" 
"Yes." 
"Now take your 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?"
"Terri?" 
"Terri?"
"Yes...I will."
"Good night Terri. 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.


