Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: redragon@interserv.com
Subject: Radio Intern (FM)
Date: 15 Nov 1995 19:59:33 GMT

			     Radio Intern

	For five years, from April of 1979 until this last April, I
worked part-time or five years, from April of 1979 until this last
April, I worked part-time at this funky non-commercial radio station
in New York. Non-commercial, by the way, means you do it for love and
not for money. I was part of the public affairs department and I
produced programs on nuclear weapons, South Africa, utilities,
alternate energy, housing, all sorts of things.

	During the time I worked at this station I occasionally
supervised two interns, Caroline and Eve, who worked on a couple of
programs, turned out to be very nice folks, but who did not realize
that producing a regular radio program takes a shit load of work.
Eight to ten hours sometimes for one hour of finished product, and
that does not count traveling to and from wherever the person you're
interviewing is located. So after some much needed help, Caroline and
Eve sort of faded off into other things. I once met Caroline briefly
in Penn Station and said hello, but I never saw Eve again until
yesterday.

	When they were working with me, I was at least somewhat
attracted to both of them. I was in a long running relationship which
was sometimes monogamous (on both our parts) and sometimes not. At
that time, I was in a monogamous mood so I would not allow myself to
interpret the interns' smiles and warmth as anything other than
friendliness. I also had a certain misgiving about getting involved
with station interns. Some of the long time "famous" personalities at
the station were often surrounded (figuratively) with women and they
would take advantage of the psychological situation by getting laid.

	Now it's not that these events were involuntary, by any means,
it's just that I want people to like me or be attracted to me for who
I am and not for whatever image they may have of me. It's also not as
if this occasional groupie phenomenon was something of the level of
teenyboppers standing on line to get at Mick Jagger. Although there
were real fans of many of the station's live radio producers, this
station only has maybe 30,000 or so regular listeners, so there are
limits to the social importance of this phenomenon. And in the case of
Caroline and Eve, it certainly was not a case of my dealing with
teenagers. Both were very mature, very bright women in their mid
twenties while I was in my late twenties at that time.

	All of this is just introduction. The real start of this story
begins with the fact that our little station gets 80% of its money
from fundraisers and listener subscriptions. Every December we hold
our annual Holiday Crafts Fair, which features lots of really high
class craftspeople from the Northeast and Midwest. I made one of my
visits to the Fair last night. I still get in free as a "retirement
benefit" from the station.

	Weekday evenings are much easier than Saturday and Sunday
afternoons, which are totally packed. I was walking through the main
hall when my eye caught something from a distance. I wasn't sure but
it looked a lot like the fedora hat that Eve always used to wear and
the head and form underneath the hat likewise looked familiar. I eased
my way through the crowd to get closer, and yes, it was Eve. I came up
to her side and caught her eye.

	"Hey, it's good to see you."

	She looked happy but a bit sheepish. I suspected she felt a
bit guilty about leaving the intern position two and one-half years
ago.

	"You know, I never harbored expectations about people who come
in as interns. No one really seems to realize that producing radio is
much more time consuming than whatever preconceptions you arrive
with."

	We walked into the snack bar that was adjacent to the main
exhibition hall, sat down and had a bite. We talked for over half an
hour and my original impression of her was only being reinforced.
Degree in biology (like me), worked in a couple of medical labs,
traveled around, worked as a telephone company repair technician (very
impressive to me, not having any idea how the phones work) and now she
was still in the same job she'd been in when she interned, the
enforcement division of NYC's environmental protection agency. On one
level this was all a friendly conversation. On another, that of eye
and body language, it was flirtation. She maintained eye contact with
me almost constantly, something I find very attractive. She was
interested in my life in the last couple of years, why I'd left the
station, what sort of stuff I'd been writing about transmission lines,
nuclear waste and depressing stuff like that.

	She asked if I was in a hurry or would I like to share a
bottle of champagne with her back at her place in Brooklyn. People in
NYC may wear jeans and sneakers but a lot of us seem to like expensive
wine.

	The subway ride from the upper west side of Manhattan to the
Park Slope section of Brooklyn takes about 45 minutes. You can't talk
much during most of the ride because subway brakes are too noisy. Lots
of people in New York stick their fingers in their ears while a subway
is screeching because of the decibel level. It actually hurts at
times.

	Exiting the relatively warm subway into the 25 degree cold on
December 22 at 7pm was a bit of a shock. It's been raining and the
combined effect of cold rain and cold air meant for a less than
leisurely walk to her house. Even today I still am a bit shy with
women, especially initially, so when I reached out and touched and
then held her hand as we walked, I felt much better and warmer when
she smiled broadly.

	Apartments in New York are generally heated by steam, which is
nice but as a rule they are usually too cold or downright hot, with
little in between. Hers was the latter and despite the fact that it
was just below freezing outside, we were greeted at the front door by
Eve's roommate, Helen, who was wearing a T-shirt. Helen had heard of
me thru Eve and was very friendly, asking about her favorite talk show
hosts at the station, some of whom I told her I did not know beyond
saying `hello' in the hallways.

	The champagne was nice, bubbles tickling our throats and noses
and sliding right up into our heads. Helen went off to her room to get
dressed to go out. She began taking off her shirt just before she got
to her room and the flash of firm back muscles and breast I got before
she disappeared gave me a bit of a rush.

	We went into Eve's room, sitting on the floor over a
backgammon board. I play only once every so often so I usually have to
re-learn a bit each time. Eve, on the other hand, played like a grand
master, as a Charlie Parker album played in the background.

	After an hour or so of play I was reaching for the dice,
looking down at the board when Eve's hand came forward and stopped me.
I looked up at her, she looked at me, took my hand and kissed my on
the palm. I leaned over, pulled her slightly closer and kissed her,
one hand moving onto her shoulder and rubbing her there. Her hand went
behind my head, ran through my hair and then to my neck, finally
fingers brushing me behind the ears. Her lips were very full strong
and warm. Wonderfully responsive, as kissing should be: both loving
and erotic.

	We paused, she hesitated and then said, "Are you going to
freak out if I tell you that I've wanted to fuck you for the last two
years?"

	I smiled, she did likewise and then motioned with her head in
the direction of her bed.

	We undressed slowly, stopping to kiss again, feeling a bit
uncomfortable about removing our attention from each other to deal
with something as mundane as taking off our clothes. We undressed
ourselves and each other. We lay on the bed in the warm apartment, the
radiator hissing in the background, the Charlie Parker tape still
supplying a soundtrack. We lay on our sides, facing each other and
separated by only three or four inches. One set of hands near the bed
were held, fingers entwined, the other pair stroked each other's back
and sides, slowly, learning new bodies and their uniqueness.

	My free hand slid down her stomach and began very gently
brushing her pubic hair, first above her vagina and then lower, but
still out side. The backs of my fingers slowly moved through the silky
fur. She parted her legs by sliding her upper leg over mine. Her hand
moved down and fingers gently encircled by cock, which was beginning
to harden in a serious way. For fifteen minutes we lay there, her
fingers holding my cock while her thumb slowly rubbed the sensitive
part below the underside of the tip. The backs of my fingers to
lightly brush the outside of her vagina, feeling her start to moisten.
We maintained almost constant eye contact.

	As I felt wetness I let my middle finger protrude between her
lips. Not actually inside, but between the edges of her lips, up to
the edge of her clit.

	She moved closer, and we began to kiss. Our mouths and tongues
were more insistent now, passionate rather than just friendly,
reflecting what was occurring below. Entwined fingers held each other
tight as did tongues.

	I slipped my middle finger inside and as soon as I did so her
grip on my cock tightened noticeably in response. I stiffened and so
did she. I slid the finger in as far as it could go, sliding it slowly
up and down the walls of her cunt, turning the finger, moving it up to
reach her clit. Wet finger against wet clitoris.

	I'm not sure if I pulled her over on top of me or whether she
rolled over on top, but that's how we ended up. She planted her slit
right on top of my now hard dick and lay with her weight on top of me
kissing deeply and moving against me. Her arms crooked under my
shoulders and mine curled around her back. I wasn't inside her but it
was a missionary position in reverse.

	Eve lifted herself off me, straddling my body with one leg on
each side. She took my cock in her hand but did not impale herself.
She held it and began to slide her wet vagina up and down its length.
She repositioned herself so that my cock was lying flat against my
stomach and her slit was right on top of it, sliding up and down. I
never realized how truly sensitive a cock is until I realized how
conscious I was of the lips of her vagina draped over my cock, her
inner lips pressing on the top. I looked up at her and saw that she
was thoroughly enjoying this, obviously getting some very effective
clitoral rushes from having the head and shaft of my cock rubbing her
almost constantly.

	She bit her lip, her eyes half closed and was taken with what
she was doing to both of us. It was a very special feeling and I
wondered whether I was going to lose control and spurt all over my
stomach.

	Finally she raised herself up a bit, held my cock and placed
the tip just where she began. She looked down at me, stared into my
eyes with a look only people in this condition have, and, very, very,
very slowly impaled herself.

	I always find this sensation exquisite and this time it was
even more so. I felt that I could detect and warmth and contour of
every fold inside her vagina. When she reached bottom she paused and I
felt consumed, firmly and warmly held.

	She began to move, slowly at first. Sometimes it was up and
down drawing me in and almost letting me slip out, then she rotated
her hips for a while or leaned forward a bit to wantonly rub her clit
against my pubic bone. We went on like this for a long time, slowly
moving together.

	Years ago I took mescaline and one of the interesting effects
was the fact that in the initial stages my entire body felt the way my
cock does when it's hard and hot. I was lying on my bed and
concentrated on my arms, my legs, my torso, my neck and head. My
entire body felt like a hard penis on its way to orgasm.

	Eve was placing me in the same state without drugs.

	I lay there moving up against her, drinking in the feeling and
watching her She was very high, now, breathing heavily, her hands on
my chest supporting her self, arms beginning to shiver slightly from
the strain and the passion. The muscles in her stomach were flexed,
her ass was beginning to quiver and her body in the candlelight was
flushed pink.

	I had been running my hands over her back and sides and
rubbing her ass. Now I reached up to cup her breasts, her nipples
already very hard. I moistened my fingers and held them against the
sides of her nipples, gently rubbing, and then lightly held the palms
of my hands against them as they brushed as she moved up and down.

	She began to move faster and whispered to me to keep it up. I
could feel myself building in my balls. She was giving herself extra
impact on her downstrokes and her breathing was labored. She began
whispering my name over and over again and her fingers on my chest dug
themselves in slightly, a bit of pain mixing with the pleasure. I felt
her muscles grab my cock tightly, her back stiffened and she came,
head shaking side to side. She tried to catch a scream but didn't
succeed.

	I didn't even try. Two more strokes in her suddenly tightened
cunt and I followed her over the edge, tumbling down, just missing
unconsciousness. When she was finished she slumped on top of me
kissing, licking whispering promises of love and satisfaction. I
kissed back and held her tight.

	When we finally came down, lying there in the glow of
lovemaking and the hissing radiator, we looked out the window into the
night. It had begun snowing. Large beautiful flakes drifting slowly
down to earth amidst the haze of the streetlights. A wonder that can
make even the dirty, deadly streets of New York, new and beautiful.
The blood and grime covered by the white cold shining snow. Peace.