Aria closed the door to her room gently, not wanting to arouse the suspicion of her friends in the living room, all giggling at some naughty joke or another. Of course, Aria thought, "naughty" with her friends meant the Essence Bachelor Issue, laughter concerning which ones they'd risk hellfire to fornicate with, and nervous looks at the others to be sure they weren't being taken seriously.
"You still there?" Aria murmured into the phone held tightly between her shoulder and ear; the little gold cross around her neck pressed gently into her flesh.
"Yes," Jon answered, his voice matching hers in secrecy. A needless joke; Jon lived alone in a fully-furnished bachelor pad ("Den of Iniquity," Janelle would have called it) twelve hours away. "Is everyone gone?"
"No," Aria answered, a little sigh in her voice as she sat down in her reading chair by her bed. "They're watching Madea's Family Reunion again, being scandalized by Shemar Moore's bare chest." She chuckled, a little shocked at herself for the joke at her friends' expense. It wasn't their fault they were religious any more than it was Aria's fault she went along with it.
"So they won't miss you for a few minutes?" Jon's voice was smooth; his tone gave her a little thrill. She knew from experience that note could mean nothing nice. Well, nothing that her friends down the hall would consider nice, anyway…
"I don't think so…" Aria looked out at the night sky. She'd forgotten it was her weekend to host the Young Women's Group movie night (and general gab session). Luckily, with the holiday weekend, only a few girls had shown up.
"Good. I want to talk to you -- it won't take too long."
"Um, okay. What did you want to discuss?" Her tone was a little businesslike, just in case he wanted to simply "talk" – sometimes they did that, too. Despite the telltale growing warmth in her yoga pants and the tightening of her nipples, she didn't want to assume he wanted to talk sex. Not that she minded, but a girl couldn't get too used to having such a delightful, phone-fuck buddy on tap. It was hard not to associate his voice with pleasure. One mustn't take one's real friends for granted.
Friend. Aria shook her head at the word. But strangely enough, Jon Greyson knew her better than any of her friends in her "real" life. He knew her fantasies, knew her fears. He knew how her different levels of arousal sounded, and that she sometimes laughed with the joy of a good orgasm. And he never judged her. On the contrary, every fantasy she'd wanted to explore, every game she'd wanted to play, he'd not only accepted it, but encouraged it. She thought of the lace thong she wore right now; a gift he'd sent after one of their sessions. "The pink of that thong matches my tongue. I want you to think of that when you wear it," he'd said.
"So you're in your room right now?" Jon asked.
"Yeah, I told them you were my out-of-town friend who was having some problems," she smiled. "Are you having problems, Jon?" She deliberately lowered her voice into that register he'd once called "naughty."
"Mmhm…problems indeed," he murmured back. "I'm sitting here thinking of you and the new toy you sent me an email link to yesterday. Aria…." He drew out the vowels of her name as if he were breathing them. "Your legs spread, your pretty pussy, and that dildo pumping in and out of you, shiny and wet…." Jon spoke bluntly, in his smooth, matter-of-fact voice. It was his directness that got Ari so hot when they were together. He wasn't bashful about saying anything, not like she was. "And the problem I'm having is that I know you're wanting to try out your new plaything, even though you've got company."
Aria chuckled. He knew her so well, it was frightening. Truth was, she'd been hoping -- no -- almost praying that her friends would cut their visit short. Pressing her thighs together during coffee had only strung the need tighter, the pressure teasing her instead of smothering the warmth gathering between them, like she'd hoped.
"I see," Aria said simply, letting her thighs fall apart out of the prim, ankle-crossed position she automatically took. She eyed the door, then reached for the middle desk drawer near the reading chair, and took out the new dildo, freshly unpacked and washed. Her mouth watered at the sight of it; her pussy did the same.
"And what about my guests?"
"I don't know, what about them?" Jon challenged. But Aria was already stretching towards the door to lock it.
"So," she settled back into the chair. "What did you want to tell me?"
"Nah ah," Jon chided gently. He was used to taking the lead when they talked. Aria enjoyed it. He realized there might be a little of the submissive in her, but he also surmised that she was taking the path of least resistance: expressing herself only in sighs and groans, not saying the actual words that excited her so much. "It's more of what you're going to tell me."
A pause on the line. "What I'm going to tell you?" Aria knew what he meant. Her heart thudded in both approval and fear. What if she said the wrong thing? What if she couldn't say anything at all?
"Ari," Jon cajoled. "You sound so good when you come; I want to hear what you're feeling when you're getting there. Besides… I know you like talking dirty; you say all kinds of things when you're coming…" his voice trailed off, and they were both thinking of the last time he'd heard her come.
There was a slight rustling as Aria cradled the phone to her other ear. She shimmied out of her yoga pants, then situated herself back on the chair, a knee hooked over each padded chair arm.
"I've just taken off my yoga pants," Aria breathed, getting the words out before she could chicken out. "I've got on the thong you bought me, the pink one that contrasts nicely with the inside of my thigh." She smiled, knowing he'd enjoy the imagery.
Farrah was sure the bathroom was the next door down. It was amazing how many doors Aria's new place had -- she'd almost walked into the hall closet. It was silly, but she wanted to put on a little lip balm and check her face. As much as she counted the YWGs as her friends, she wanted to look the part, too. They all seemed so perfect and upstanding. She sighed a little as she reached towards the doorknob in front of her, then immediately drew back. She heard a soft moan from behind it. Her first thought was to open the door and see if the person needed help. But the gentle laughter that followed the moan invited her to lean against the doorframe instead, arching her ear towards the door, straining to hear the murmurs that lay behind it.
"It's wet," Aria spoke plainly, her shyness a little abated by her fingers' first delving into the lush, carmine folds.
"Nuh uh," Jon chided gently, enjoying the warming of her voice.
A short sigh of resignation. "My cunny is wet." A pause. "My pussy. She feels so open, sensitive. I can still feel the whorls of my fingertips on the walls, it's so sensitive." Aria reached down and circled her clitoris gently. "My clit, too, it's hard and slick, like the tip of your tongue would be if you'd just finished licking me."
Aria was rewarded by a gasp of surprised delight from the other end of the phone, and a very interested murmur. "Really?" Jon asked, wanting her to go on.
Another gasp, this one full of more surprise, echoed from outside the closed door. Farrah stared, wide-eyed, down the dark hall, where mere feet away, prim women were giggling at a movie. Was their hostess having sex? Masturbating? Right there with them in the house? Farrah was shocked to find her knees growing weak and her chest getting very warm under her proper polo shirt, as were her cheeks. Futilely, she crossed her legs tightly against the growing interest between them. She should go -- this was obviously a private conversation. Intimate.
"Yes, really." Aria continued. "Isn't that what you wanted me to think of? Your tongue?"
"Among other things," Jon agreed.
"I see," Aria teased. "So you wouldn't mind if I were imagining your fingers inside me, and if I wasn't fantasizing that this was your dick I was holding in my hand?"
"Absolutely not," Jon said truthfully.
"It's a beautiful dildo, Jon," Aria said nonchalantly as she studied the toy. "Black, of course, a blunt head that was just made for circling a clit – or the lips…either pair…"
Farrah wasn't sure whether to pray or knock on the door. This couldn't be right – Aria, hostess of the YWG book and movie club, was describing a sex toy to someone! While it did sound like a nice toy, it surely wasn't proper…
"It's about eight inches or so, Jon. I like to be completely filled, you know – and there are these delicious ridges right below the head that run all the way down the length. It's flared at the end, and since it's realistic, it's got balls, too – I think while I'm using it, I'll imagine they're yours, slapping wetly against my skin while you make me come."
"I'd love that, sweetheart," Jon answered, a little breathlessly, imagining the same thing.
Farrah closed her mouth. It was only after having to quiet her moan of lust that she realized she'd been listening, slackjawed, to the conversation. That's what it had to be: Aria's voice describing what she was doing, that lovely-sounding toy, along with the little pauses…she had to be talking to someone. Describing it. And she, Farrah Gibbs, was listening. Being a voyeur. Pressing her thighs -- a little rhythmically – against the arousal she felt at being one.
She glanced down the hall again, hearing the laughter of the rest of the group, who were innocently starting a second movie. Soul Food. They wouldn't miss her at all; they'd be too busy reciting every line. She contemplated the darkened hallway and the living room around the L-shaped hall. Surely she would be able to hear if someone was coming….
"In fact, Jon, I feel like imagining a little something right now," Aria said, her voice stronger, but still low with anticipation. I'm imagining you here, watching me, the pink thong you bought me pulled to the side to show you everything…"
Jon remained silent, concentrating on his own hard dick, which he was stroking thoughtfully. He'd no idea she'd be so good at this.
There was a pause, and for the moment, Farrah was afraid that Aria had stopped, or worse, that she was going to open the door and catch her, inching her right hand down the front of her khakis. Laughter from the front room made her jump a little, and she almost lost her nerve. But then she heard a low, satisfied groan from behind the door, and Farrah found herself sagging against the doorframe, not only shoving her hand down the front of her pants, but unbuttoning and unzipping them to better gain access to her now-throbbing clit and pussy.
"Oh, Jon that feels amazing; it's thick and hard, and I can feel everything, even though I'm so slick and wet." Aria pulled the dildo out, then pushed in again, relishing the wet sound of it entering her again. She purred. "I'm going nice and slow, fucking nice and slow; I want to feel everything…" she pushed her hips up to meet the gentle, even strokes she was giving herself, sighing at each stroke. "Oh, Jon, I wish you were here to see this – she looked down. "It just slides so sweet in my pussy and it's so wet , even the little ridges, it's almost like it's shining, Oh!"
Jon couldn't help but gasp, too, at her little exclamation.
"I just brushed my clit with my hand," Aria admitted, doing it again.
Oh, please let her do that again, Farrah found herself thinking. Her fingers were already plunged into her own sopping slit, timing the slides of her fingers in and out to the sighs she heard. She brushed her clit with her thumb after Aria said she had, and felt her knees go watery again. This was so wrong: a part of her found the act of listening in to be the exciting part, another part of her wondered if it was the sound of her friend's getting off that was ultimately arousing her.
"I'm not going to speed up, even thought I want to," Aria was saying now, trying to convince herself as much as tell Jon. "My hips are moving against the thrusts of the cock, getting a little rhythm going…the…the….mmmm…"
Jon knew she was getting close now; the pattern of her speech became more erratic as her arousal built.
"Mmm…that's it, fuck…still going slow...steady…steady…oh, God…"
Jon kept his own strokes steady, too. So did Farrah, despite the now-audible, desperate huffing of her own breath in the hallway. Her palm was wet, her serviceable cotton panties all but drenched.
"Um….yesss…I want to speed up but I won't…I want to feel thi…this….oh fuck, that's good…"
Jon groaned at her enthusiasm, and the obvious onslaught of her orgasm. "Don't stop, baby, you sound so good…" he encouraged, impassioned.
"Can't stop…ohfuck, gimmethatcock," Aria groaned through clenched teeth, trying to both keep her voice down and keep the pace she knew would result in a powerful orgasm. Fast fucking made her come, but slow, deep strokes like the ones she was giving herself drover her completely over the edge. "Oh, it's so good, Jon….Jon…fuck….yes…oh, like that…coming…."
Farrah bit her lip to keep from crying out as she felt her walls tighten around her fingers. Her back was pressed into the hard wood of the doorjamb, but she didn't feel it, she only felt the jackknife of pleasure arcing through her as Aria's voice, the innocent conversation in the front room, and even the shock she felt at her own behavior faded, and she knew only delight.
Jon's orgasm was a short bark on the other end of the line, as he finally gave in to his excitement. Only this discovery of Aria's willingness to further share herself with him gave him more pleasure.
Aria's peak sounded subdued, as she had turned her head to muffle her tremolo as she came. There was a pause on the line as she collected herself, smiling at the little pinpricks of sensation throughout her body. The dildo rested, glistening, against her palm, still inside her. She eased it out with a sigh. "I suppose I should change my pants now," she chuckled.
Aria's words brought Farrah back with a start. Maybe she'd been gone too long? The others might suspect something! She pushed away from the wall, and refastened her clothes, almost leaping away from the door when she heard the creak of what must have been the bed or chair Aria had been on. She finally found the bathroom -- the door between the front room and Aria's room -- to the left. Farrah's hands trembled a little as she ran the water at the sink, catching her own scent before washing her hands with the sugary-smelling soap.
"I knew you had it in you," Jon said, leaning back into his pillows.
"Damn right I had it in me," Aria laughed back, holding the phone between her shoulder and ear as she pulled on a fresh pair of panties and pyjama pants. "Well, back to the good women of the YWG," she sighed. A little thrill ran through her at the thought. It was nice to have nice friends, but being a nice naughty girl had its perks too.
"Have fun," Jon smiled into the phone. "We'll talk later." He was already formulating ideas.
"Goodnight," she answered, a little bit louder. "I hope you're feeling better."
Aria opened the door to the hallway, and gave a little start. Farrah was coming out of the bathroom, getting ready to snap the lights off.
Farrah glanced at her pyjama bottoms.
"Oh, I just wanted to get comfortable," Aria said smoothly. She smelled the sweet scent of the bathroom soap. That was odd, she thought – she hadn't heard the toilet flush or anything.
"I just came to wash my hands before we got into those cheesecake squares Tonia bought," Farrah lied easily, and opened the almost-shut door to the front room.
"Hope you guys didn't start the second movie without me," Aria called to her friends as she and Farrah walked back into the living room and into the mixed voices of her guests.
"How's your friend?" asked Farrah as she plopped down on the sofa.
"Oh, doing much better, thanks," Aria nodded thoughtfully.
Aria was briefly puzzled by the quirk of a smile that curved Farrah's mouth, then forgot it as the talk turned to the newest idea for a fundraiser for the afterschool ministry.
Originally published May, 2008