========
Path: news.primenet.com!nntp.primenet.com!news.cais.net!newsfeed.internetmci.com!newsxfer2.itd.umich.edu!netnews.worldnet.att.net!ix.netcom.com!tor-nn1.netcom.ca!news
From: atr@netcom.ca(Aaron Todd Rossetto)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: The Cordless Phone Conversation (m/f, teen)
Date: 26 Jun 1996 07:53:03 GMT
Organization: Netcom Canada
Lines: 405
Message-ID: <4qqq8v$84s@tor-nn1-hb0.netcom.ca>
NNTP-Posting-Host: stn-on1-08.netcom.ca
X-NETCOM-Date: Wed Jun 26 3:53:03 AM EDT 1996
Xref: news.primenet.com alt.sex.stories:166406
[I'm not sure if this story is supposed to make sense or not. I'm
not aiming in that direction. But, when you're in a bitter mood
and got things on your mind, nothing's better than a little erotic
fiction to make you feel a bit better! Please bear with me. This
story is about the difference in what some people will say to
another and what, in actuality, they will get up to. -- atr]
DISCLAIMER:
-----------
This document contains sexually explicit material involving
people who ought not to be involved in it anyway. If you are in a
locale or of an age where reading or possessing such material is
illegal, please delete the file and cease and subsist from reading
any such material in the future. If you don't like this document,
you can bloody well delete it and go on to something you find more
appealing. By the way, this *is* fiction, and none of the
characters in this story exist, nor is this based on a
conversation in particular. This is the product of a vivid
imagination at work.
Now, on to the fun!
---
THE CORDLESS PHONE CONVERSATION
(Or, What She Says vs. What She Does)
They couldn't have been any more than thirteen years old.
That's what they sounded like, anyway. It wasn't hard to tell
anyway, despite the rather weak signal and the intrusive static in
the background fading in and out with the storm clouds overhead.
What gave it away were the girlish giggles and great peals of
laughter that accompanied every reference to boys, kissing and
"making out", the nerdy kids in the class, and the taboo subjects
that were touched upon in the conversation.
From what I could gather, her name was Amanda--Mandy for
short. I didn't catch the first part of the conversation, but the
girl on the far end (not the one whose cordless phone base was
closest to my house) would often refer to her by name; for
example, after Mandy and her friend were discussing a boy by the
name of Bryce, who I gathered was what one might call a "keener"
in school, Mandy said, "I wouldn't kiss that ugly nerd if you paid
me to!"
"Oh Mandy, exclaimed the other amid great shrieks and
giggles, "you're awful!" And that's when I learned that our young
friend was Mandy.
It was a rather late on a Friday evening, about quarter to
midnight or so, when my handheld scanner stumbled upon the girls'
transmissions. I was slightly disappointed when the scanner
stopped on the bank of cordless phone frequencies, for the police
and ambulance channels had been quite busy (and entertaining)
detailing the glut of domestic disputes, elderly people having
difficulty breathing and car accidents taking place throughout the
region on this hot June night. However, noting the incessant
giggling and gossip of two teenaged girls, my interest was
peaking. Prior listening had proved these conversations to be
pretty juicy and even more entertaining than even the busiest
night of car wrecks and break-ins.
The conversation seemed to have started off innoculously
enough. Hastily grabbing a cable and connecting it between the
scanner and the tape recorder, I depressed the "record" button and
let the words flow onto the cheap audio tape I'd picked up at the
flea market two weekends ago. I'll transcribe them and add notes
where appropriate:
[Faint sounds of Marilyn Manson performing the Eurhythmics'
"Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This)"]
Mandy: "...that one; have you seen the new Marilyn Manson
video?"
Other: [laughter] "What a freak! Like, I mean, they're all
wearin' makeup and stuff! You know who likes them?"
Mandy: "No, who?"
Other: "Jenn. You know her?"
Mandy: "Not really... Oh, you mean Jenn Andersson? The one
that went out with Scott McKees?"
Other: "Yeah, that's her! Um... yeah, I heard her telling
him that she just *loves* Marilyn Manson and has all
their albums."
Mandy: "Freak!"
Other: [great peals of laughter] "Who, her or Marilyn?"
Mandy: [giggle] "Both of them! Did you hear what Jenn and
Scott did when they were going out? Everybody
knows."
Other: "I didn't hear! What?"
Mandy: "They *did it*!"
Other: "Jenn's a slut."
Mandy: "No, listen, not once, but all the time! I was
talkin' to Scott's best friend Jay (he is *so* cute!)
and Jay told me
*everything*."
Other: [voice rising] "Ahhh! Do tell, Mandy!"
Mandy: "Um, well, uh, you know the dance they had at V.G.
[Viscount Grey Junior High] in March? They went
together `cause they were pretty much goin' steady
then. Then, um, that night Scott's parents weren't
home, and Jenn came over. Scott told Jay that he
took off her blouse and her bra, and he felt her
boobs while they were kissing. Then I guess she
liked it so much that he put his hand her up
her skirt and was, like, *touching* her!"
Other: "No way! Like, *there*?"
Mandy: "Yeah. Yeah, he was rubbing her pretty good and he
says that, um, she started to moan and stuff, and
then she was all, like, breathing heavy."
Other: [Very interested] "Did he..."
Mandy: "He never took off her skirt though. Just feeling
her under it."
Other: "Oh. Did, um, they ever *do it*?"
Mandy: "I'm not done yet. One night Scott told Jay that she
was over and they were working on the math
assignment, and Scott's parents left, and they
actually had sex."
Other: [laughing] "No way!"
Mandy: "Yeah. I guess Jenn had never done it before, eh?
And like Scott was acting completely like he had. I
guess he got her to take off all her clothes, and she
took off his clothes, and they like kissed for a
while. Then Scott said, `I love you' and pulled out
a condom and..."
Other: "Did Jenn want to? I mean, I..."
Mandy: "I don't know; Jay never said. I guess she let him
though and they did it like two or three times after
that. Jay said that Scott thinks Jenn liked it,
`cause she was like screaming and cryin' the first
time."
Other: "Wow, I wonder what it feels like!"
Mandy: [defensively] "I don't know, I've never done it!"
Other: "Not even with Brad?" [I gather that Brad was, or
is, Mandy's boyfriend.]
Mandy: "I wouldn't let Brad do *that* to me! Like, we kiss
and stuff like that; I even let him touch my boobs
once, but only through my shirt."
Other: "You never told me that, Mandy! When?"
Mandy: "We went to a movie, um... last weekend. I told you
about the fight we had, right?"
Other: "I think so."
Mandy: "Brad wanted to see `Barb Wire'..." [laughing]
Other: [great laughter] "Pamela Anderson's boobies!"
Mandy: [laughing harder now] "BIG BOOBIES!"
[30 seconds of laughter from each of them]
Mandy: [laughter subsides] "I didn't want to see it; I said,
like, `I wanna see Twister!' And he was all upset
and said he really wanted to go see the other movie.
So I said, `You can go see your big boobies...'"
Other: [laughter starts up again]
Mandy: "`...if you want. I'm not seeing that crap.' So he
got all, like, pissed off and hung up. He called
back about five minutes later and was, like, all
apologetic and stuff and said we'd go see `Twister'."
Other: "Yeah."
Mandy: "We went on Saturday, eh? It was pretty dead there,
like, *no one* was in the theater but us. Except for
these people in the back row, we were the only ones
there."
Other: "Did you make out?"
Mandy: "Yeah, during the movie. Brad wasn't really payin'
attention and I was in a great mood, being with my
guy..."
Other: [giggles]
Mandy: "...and we started, like, french kissing in the
middle of the movie. Then, like, before I know it,
he put his hand on my chest and started touchin' my
boob and rubbing it softly. It felt good, too,
like... it just felt *good*."
Other: "Uh huh."
Mandy: "And he did that for about five minutes, and then,
like, there was this *awesome* movie scene and he
stopped."
Other: [giggles] "Did your [voice rising an octave] nipples
get hard?"
[15 seconds of laughter]
Other: "So, you gonna have sex with him soon?"
Mandy: [laughing] "NO! We've only been goin' steady for,
like, three weeks. But he is *such* a sweetie!"
Other: "Yeah, he is pretty cute."
Mandy: [playfully defensive] "Keep your eyes off my guys!"
[further bales of laughter from the two...]
The conversation continued in a similar vein. The topic of sex
wasn't really brought up any further but for one incident much
later in the conversation, which went on for over an hour. It
was, and remains, very important to this tale:
Other: "Did you see [Brad] tonight?"
Mandy: "Nah, I think he went, like, over to Evan's place or
something."
Other: [laughing hard] "*Evan*? You know what they were
probably doin', eh?"
Mandy: "No, what?"
Other: "Everybody knows that Evan's got a buncha Playboy's
up in his room he swiped off his dad."
Mandy: "I didn't know that."
Other: "Yeah, they were probably lookin' at them and their
big boobies."
[Here I have to admit to expecting laughter, but I suppose
the adolescent thrill of saying taboo words like "boobies"
had worn off.]
Mandy: "God!" [This was one of those very protracted
"God"s, sounding more like "Gaaaaaaaaaawd"--do your
own imitation.] "That's all guys think about, sex."
Other: "Yeah!"
If I were able to transmit to their phone, and interject in their
conversation, I would pick up my transmitter and pointedly remark,
"Yeah--and that's all girls *talk* about." But, alas, I was able
only to think that.
---
By what I consider to be teen girl standards, the above
conversation was pretty, well, standard. Gossip, talk of guys and
(though I didn't report much of it) the latest music videos
dominated the chat session. However, what our young Mandy and
beau Brad got up to after the movie that evening was not talked
about. Whether fearful to admit it to the other girl due to shame
or the fear of having it spread as gossip (cf. Jenn's story), the
after-flick activities went unreported. With a nimble switch to
divine perspective, let's look in:
They kissed briefly on the doorstep of Mandy's house before
Brad said, "`Night, Mandy. I'll call you tomorrow?"
"What don't you come in," she said. "My parents are at my
aunt's place and they won't be back until after midnight. It's
only 10:30."
"Sure," he said non-chalantly.
Mandy opened up her little black leather purse and fumbled
for the house key. She pulled out a small keychain, a gold heart
engraved with a fancy "A", ostensibly for Amanda, given to her by
her parents for Christmas last year. She found it, and with
jingling and jangling, inserted the key into the sticky lock and
turned. The door opened with a small squeak.
Mandy turned the porch light on and then the light to the
front hallway. Taking Mandy's cue, Brad removed his sneakers, and
as he kicked off his right shoe, Mandy took him by the hand and
then walked slowly into the living room and flopped down on the
couch in front of the TV. With her free hand, she reached for the
remote control and turned on the TV. Obviously, the channel
hadn't changed since she left, as the spirited power chords of
rock band Hole filled the room and the screen's image brightened
to show whichever videos MuchMusic had in its current playlist.
Mandy snuggled up beside Brad, who was sitting more or less
in an upright position on the couch, feet firmly on the floor as
any good house guest would do. Mandy's feet, however, were
resting on the coffee table in front of the couch and the rest of
her body slumped comfortably into Brad's side. Their hands were
still clasped.
"Wanna pop or something?" asked Mandy.
"Ummm, nah," Brad replied rather shyly. He gently stroked
Mandy's golden blond hair with his free hand. "I'm comfortable
right here," he said, smiling.
Mandy smiled back at her current boyfriend's display of
contentedness as "Doll Parts" ended and the melodic pop strains of
"I Can't Stop Loving You" began to fill the room. Mandy gasped,
exclaiming, "I love this song!" She looked up into Brad's eyes
and drew her face closer to his.
Seconds later, their lips met in a passionate kiss, and they
disengaged from their handholding to embrace each other, the music
fuelling their teenage passion. After a minute or so, Mandy
released Brad from the kiss. She looked at him and said,
nervously, "Would you... um... touch me again like you did in at
the movie?"
Brad knew not what to say, but did just as his girlfriend
asked. He timidly took his right hand, which Mandy grabbed to
guide him, and placed it upon her left breast. When he made
contact with the soft flesh over her baby tee, she let loose a
tiny sigh. They resumed their kiss and Brad's hands carefully
kneaded the girl's breast and rubbed it with the palm of his hand.
"Does that feel good to you," he asked softly.
"Um, yeah," she managed. "Great!"
The music continued as did the light petting. Brad, in a
bold move, moved his hand down to her bare midriff and slid his
hand slowly up underneath her T-shirt to feel her breasts through
only her white cotton bra. She said nothing in protest; she
encouraged him with a soft moan and even moved her torso so that
his hand was making more solid contact with her chest, all the
while lips entangled.
She was getting very aroused, and Brad's penis was aching
for release underneath the tight jeans he was wearing. She was
enjoying every second of the feelings that overwhelmed her young
body.
"Touch me," she asked gently. "Take off my bra."
Fortunately for Brad, she wore a bra with a front clasp that
all Brad need do was to unhook it between thumb and forefinger of
his right hand. He parted the cups softly, and for the first time
was treated to the sight of her uncovered breasts. Her little
pink nipples stood out firmly from small pink areolae on firm
breasts. He carefully moved his mouth down to her erect nipples
and sucked on them, not quite knowing what to do as he was
inexperienced, yet doing what he believed would pleasure her most.
At the touch of his tongue against her areolae and nipples,
Mandy moaned. The wetness between her legs had grown, a feeling
to which she was unaccustomed but knew from various magazines
she'd read and her health classes meant that she was very sexually
aroused. Mandy felt an itch in her groin that was sending great
feelings throughout her own body, while Brad's crotch bulged with
his obvious arousal.
The kids didn't seem to notice what time it was, that music
was playing, or, in fact, where they were. They were both so
wrapped up in each other and their own pleasure that everything
else seemed unimportant.
Brad knew that his girlfriend was hot and very aroused, as
was he. After a few minutes of playing with her breasts, kneading
and sucking the tender flesh, he moved his now-confident hands
down to her tight faded jeans, and cautiously moved the denim
covering the fly away and pulling down the zipper. Expecting
Mandy to protest, Brad moved slowly. But she said nothing, and
allowed him to slowly unbutton her jeans and glimpse her lime-
green panties. She raised her hips slightly from the couch and
made it easier for Brad to slip the jeans down far enough that his
view of her panty-covered crotch was unimpeded.
"I want to... take yours off," offered Mandy. She moved her
hand down to his crotch, resting her small hand on the bulge that
had formed. Brad moaned softly in response, and much like Brad
had done to her not fifteen seconds prior, she unbuttoned his
jeans and pulled down the fly. As Brad helped by pulling down his
pants, she saw his jockey shorts and the outline of his cock,
trying to stick up from underneath its binding. She found herself
more aroused by feeling the bulge with her palm, the itch growing,
and Brad could do nothing but close his eyes and savour the
feelings that coursed through his crotch and whole body.
Brad had to have known by this point that this little
encounter had to end in some sort of satisfaction, either for him,
her or both of them. So, without any sort of worry or hesitation,
he placed the fingers of his left hand underneath the elastic
waistband of her underwear and edged them down slightly, exposing
the very top of her public region where hair had begun to grow a
year or so prior. He worked his fingers closer to her musky
wetness and finally, by easing the underwear down a bit more, was
able to feel the rubbery, wet folds of her vagina. Mandy gasped
and closed her eyes, letting her head flop back onto a nearby
pillow.
Brad, not sure what to do, rubbed the folds with his free
fingers as best he could, touching her tingling bud lightly. This
had the effect of electric shocks for Mandy, and her breathing was
much more audible now, moaning periodically and murmuring "oh"
from time to time.
Brad had to finally free his cock from his jockeys, and did so
hastily. Finally, it was free and pointing towards the ceiling, a
small drop of lubricant appearing at the tip. Mandy looked down
and yearned to touch it.
Sensing her thoughts, he guided Mandy's hand with his free
hand towards his penis, and she instinctively grabbed it in her
hand, yet did not move it. Still, Brad had never felt anything
like this and he too gasped as foreign hands felt his member. In
response, his fingers began rubbing her clitoris at a faster rate,
eliciting more spirited moaning from Mandy, who jerked her hips
slightly upward to add to Brad's touch.
Finally, the itch had moved from her stomach down into her wet
crotch, and she uncontrollably began to signal her arrival to
climax, with hot wet "ums" and "ohs" between sharp inhalations.
With a final cry of "Ah!" Mandy's vaginal muscles clamped
and pulsed around Brad's hand and the orgasm raced through her
body, blanking out all thoughts. Her hips bucked in the air as
best she could from her position on the couch, and her orgasm
subsided with rhythmical chanting of "Yes!" and "Ah!" that grew
more quiet and less frequent as the pleasure dropped.
Brad wasn't finished. His body ached for release as much,
if not more, as Mandy's had a minute earlier. Her hand still
wrapped around his erect cock, he guided her to slide her hand up
and down so that the foreskin would uncover his cockhead and then
cover it again--and again, and again and again. Brad's face
contorted with the pleasure of her ministrations, which did not go
unnoticed by Mandy.
"Does it hurt?" she asked with genuine concern.
"No, it feels so good," he rasped. "Don't stop."
She did so, and with the curiousity of someone who'd only
seen the male genitalia as a series of drawings in her health
classes, felt his testicles with her other hand, still pumping up
and down on Brad's cock. Brad could do nothing but close his
eyes, breathe heavier and be gentled stroked towards his own
orgasm.
"I'm gonna come," he muttered after several more seconds of
Mandy's touches and strokes, and grunted as pearly-white semen
spewed forth from his penis to leave a sticky mess on his jeans,
her T-shirt and chest. Mandy knew that the male orgasm caused
ejaculation, but was rather thrown aback by the substance, and
stopped immediately, though the damage had been done. Finally,
the Mandy of old seemed to return and she looked worried,
muttering "Ick!" while Brad sensed her disgust and mopped up the
ejaculate with his underwear.
Brad left soon after the children had clothed themselves and
the room had been sprayed with air freshener in an attempt to mask
the musky odour of their sexual act. Both were rather dazed and
didn't say much as Brad could manage no more than "Goodbye, Man,
I'll call ya tomorrow," and she no more than, "`Kay. Bye."
---
Did Mandy have good reason not to tell her best friend about
her activities? In this case, Mandy didn't want her best friend
to know that she'd engaged in some mutual masturbation for the
fear of it becoming hot gossip at V.G. (though, by this time,
school was pretty much over). However, lest you think that all
your friends are virgins and joke and look down upon sex, keep in
mind that sometimes, even best friends don't tell each other the
whole story.
(Suddenly, I feel as if I've just written a bad episode of
"Degrassi Junior High". :-) With my mind at ease, and fingers
tired, I'm going to bed. Thanks for your kind patience.)
---
Aaron [atr@netcom.ca]
"They don't let a woman kill you, not in the Tower of Song"
- Leonard Cohen