The Phone Call Ch. 01


Elle Niklaus unlocked the door and ran into the house. What an hour ago seemed like a perfect day for a run in the Park, turned into a flood of biblical proportions. Now she was soaked.

She took a look at the shoe rack. Good. Only hers and Jack’s shoes were there. So Lisa and Josh were still out of the apartment. Good. With Jack gone to Seattle, she was all alone. Elle begun striping the now thoroughly wet pieces of clothing.

She was a slim, leggy, 24 year old, taller than average at 5’10”. Her long, curly auburn hair cascaded to just beneath her shoulders. The slightly freckled face and a wide illuminating smile gave off that all-American girl next-door appearance: pretty, cute, unpretentious. Her eyes were big. Brown. Deep. They made her seem so innocent, as if she’d blush at the mention of topics a mid-western family would consider inappropriate. Sometimes she still would. Growing up on a Wisconsin farm does leave marks.

“Fuck,” Elle thought. She looked down at her shoes. Ruined.

Elle was far from the innocence of Wisconsin, living in the City. An EEEB Ph.D. student at Columbia, she shared a small one-bedroom in Morningside Heights with Jack. Jack and Elle met three years ago in Seattle; he was a student at the University of Washington, she was visiting from NYU. The chemistry between the dreamy 6’4″ blond engineer and the wide-eyed girl from Wisconsin was instant. A year long long-distance relationship followed. Then applications to grad schools. And finally, moving in together, here in New York.

Three years later, they were still happy and love, just like the first day they met. Even though they’d deftly deflect answering the inevitable question, everyone knew it was only a matter of when, not if, Miss. Niklaus will become Mrs. Holmes.


Elle growled as her iPhone fell out of a pocket of what used to be her shorts. Now, that item of clothing seemed like a rag out of a late night commercial. The one you didn’t want to have.

The phone was swimming in a puddle of water. Dead. Drowned. God knows if will ever work again.


Elle continued extracting herself from the wet clothes. Her shorts and panties peeled off in one go, exposing the milky white skin below.

At least there was one positive aspect of the soaking: the wetness mercifully soothed the burning sensation left by the morning’s wax job. She looked down at herself. The always neatly trimmed patch of hair that used to cover her feminine triangle was now completely gone. Looking back at her was nothing but the creamy whiteness of her skin.

“Not bad. Not bad at all,” Elle thought.

She moved her hand. Her fingers begun tracing a path from her navel, over the newly hairless pubic mound, to her crotch. They gently caressed, then dipped, between her pussy lips. They were still blushed, swollen and sensitive from the hot wax and Ms. Figueira’s determined tugs. And smooth. Perfectly smooth.

Elle smiled.

She bent over just slightly, taking her hand behind her back. The palm hovered slowly across her rear, reaching her freshly exposed pucker. She probed it gently with each finger, the tips looking for a slightest sign of friction around the delicate piece of flesh. Finding none, they backed away. She continued the search in the valley between her perfect, round, buttocks.

Nothing. Smooth. Perfectly smooth.

“This Brazilian was worth every single penny,” she said to the empty room.

At the same time, it frustrated her. Still two more days until the newly bald pussy and ass would see some action. God!

Elle continued to undress. The shirt and training bra were gone next, releasing her perky 32C breasts from their embrace. They bounced around happily, relishing their newfound freedom. Elle removed her socks and begun walking towards the bedroom. Cold from the rain, she could really use a hot shower. Her long dark nipples, protruding from the large pink aureole, hardened as if to signal agreement.

A familiar buzz stopped her. Her iPhone!

Left for dead, drowned, it wasn’t so dead after all. Well, at least there’s some good news. Elle walked back and picked it up. It was Lisa.

Lisa was Elle’s best friend and office mate in grad school. She was also her and Jack’s temporary house mate. The apartment where Lisa lived was being repaired after a busted pipe flooded it completely a few weeks ago. The repairs were to take a week, but the flood revealed even more issues. Cheap housing in New York: you get what you pay for. What were to be days first turned into weeks, and now into more than a month. Elle was afraid to ask what the current estimate was; she doubted that even the repair men knew, let alone Lisa. But truthfully, she didn’t mind. She liked having Lisa around.

Lisa was an only child. Smart, bordering on brilliant, the 23 yr. old Irish girl was born in Arizona but raised in South Boston. A Southie and a Harvard graduate, she was fiercely proud of both. She’d show up to football games in full Crimson regalia, challenging anyone who escort bursa objected to “bring it on”.

She looked more like a bar brawler than an Ivy League grad with her boyish, stalky, 5’6″ frame that carried noticeable but toned packs of muscle. Her long reddish-brown hair was always kept tied in a pony tail, covered by an oversized Red Sox hat. She always wore baggy clothes, and couldn’t care less about makeup, lipsticks, manicures, pedicures, waxings, any kind of hair removal, creams, cosmetologists, or anything else that “normal” women would consider a part of their routine. Like she just didn’t care.

But Elle knew better. Lisa’s tomboyish personality that she so fiercely exuded to the outside world was only a mask. Beneath it was hiding a shy and sweet, borderline naive, young woman who grew up in Boston’s Irish ghetto and had to make it in life mostly by herself. She grew up to be tough. She never allowed her self to be a girl, to show weakness. That was a part of it.

Lisa was insecure about her looks. Elle knew this very well. She was the closest to a big sister that Lisa has ever had. Many times Elle had to listen to the long lists of Lisa’s complaints about her body. Her legs were too short, her chin was too big, her boobs were too small, her arms were too hairy, etc., etc. Some women would compensate with makeovers or surgeries. Lisa just pretend not to care and went to the opposite extreme.

The thing that always baffled Elle was that none of it was true. Ever since the first time she saw Lisa, without the hats, without the baggy clothes, with no grandmaish underwear, she found her to be one of the most attractive women she ever knew.

The first time Elle saw Lisa naked was in the gym, showering. She gasped at the sight of her nude body. She found it stunning.

What seemed like tiny breasts when hidden by a hoodie, transformed into two harmoniously shaped B cups, topped by large pink aureole. They were accentuated by tiny brown nipples, like two chocolate pebbles. They rested on a petite, yet perfectly toned frame, that flowed into a wide pelvis and delicate feminine cleft framed by two athletically carved legs.

But Lisa’s best asset, by far, were the two luscious, curvy, hemispheres that were her buttocks. It was as if a Brazilian carnival goddess was transformed and hidden into this American girl, to be discovered and had only by those worthy of such bliss.

Elle shuddered at the thought. “Bad Elle! Bad, bad Elle!” she thought, trying to calm down and answer the phone.

“Hey Lisa, what’s up?” Elle said into the still dripping phone.

“Hi Elle, not much. I’m in the office, waiting for the downpour to end. Everybody left by now. Josh is not answering his phone. I’m bored… What about you? Are you home yet?”

“Yeah. And soaked. I got caught in the rain the minute I ran out to jog. So now, I’m cold, my phone looks like an aquarium, and my running shoes are ruined!”

Elle sounded as if she was about to cry.

Lisa chuckled at the description of her friend’s misery. Watching the downpour through her window, she could imagine how bad it would be to venture outside. Elle really had to be soaked. But she also new there were other things that bothered Elle. That really frustrated her. It was not the rain, or the shoes, or the phone. It was her boyfriend Jack.

Or lack thereof, to be exact.

Jack’s been in Seattle with his friend Mark for nearly two weeks now. With each day of his absence Elle was growing increasingly frustrated by, how she used to put it, “having no one to service her”. And judging by what Lisa used to hear, while futilely trying to fall asleep on the couch in the living room, Elle needed (and got) some serious servicing while Jack was around.

The steamy bedroom audio would make Lisa even more frustrated about her own predicament. Josh, her boyfriend since freshmen year, moved to New York with her when they graduated. He got a job at a bank. Entry level, but a good job. Then, after only few months, he said he’s had enough. He went back to Harvard, for an MBA, leaving her in New York, making their relationship long-distance. The separation hit hard. The adjustment to seeing him so rarely was hard. But over the months, they’ve learned to cherish the little time they had together. The weekend visits, the holidays, the breaks.

Fortunately, now was one of those times: spring break. It was an opportunity for Josh to drive down from Boston and stay an entire week. As Jack was away, Elle didn’t mind him coming over. She even let the two of them sleep in her bedroom, taking the living room couch herself.

“Hope the bedroom serves you well,” Elle said, with a devilish smile and a wink that conveyed unmistakably she wasn’t talking about a good night sleep. Then she added in a whispery voice: “I’ll be listening…”

That was Elle: a straight-talking, gossipy vixen with her girlfriends; a nice country girl to the rest of the world. Plus, it was obvious that Jack’s absence was making her sex crazed. Even bursa escort more than usual.

When Josh arrived, Lisa decided to have her vengeance for weeks of listening to Elle and Jack going at it. That night she summoned her inner porn star, moaning and screaming at the top of her lungs: “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, oh god, fuck me with that huge cock!”. Lisa nearly burst out laughing at the sound of her words, but kept it up. “Josh, Josh, Josh, yes, yes, yessss…” And, the pinnacle of the performance: “Yesss… Cum in my mouth, I want to suck you off, oh yes, yes, Josh!”

Josh didn’t seem to mind her sudden need for vocalization; he actually appeared turned on by it. Ah, men and their porn star fantasies. He did get worried, though:

“Hey. Do you… Do you think Elle heard us?”

“No honey, no way. I slept on that couch every night for the past month, and trust me, you can’t hear a thing from there.”

And the Oscar goes to Lisa Dukes, for the most convincing postcoital lie, ever.

Tomorrow morning Lisa found Elle making coffee in the kitchen. Elle just looked up at her, but didn’t say a word. Her face revealed nothing. Was she mad? Moments passed in silence. Finally, Elle picked up her coffee cup and slowly walked up to Lisa. Leaning towards her, she suddenly and without warning pinched and squeezed Lisa’s nipple while whispering to her ear: “You one lucky bitch!”

Lisa yelped in surprise. Then they both burst out laughing. And Lisa decided to keep up with the nightly torments.


That was Elle, on the other end of the line. The woman’s shriek snapped Lisa out of her daydream. “OK, let’s tease Elle a little,” she thought. “It will take her mind off the weather, at least.”

“You sure it was the rain that’s made you wet? Not thinking about Jack?” Lisa asked in the most innocent voice she could muster.

For a moment, Elle was taken of guard by the question. Then she smiled and erupted in mock rage.

“You bitch! You noisy spoiled little bitch! Easy for you to tease me like that. You’ve got that stud of yours to keep you entertained and my Jack is not here!”

Lisa was snickering; her arrow hit the mark.

Elle wasn’t finished. “And whatever it is you two people are doing in my bedroom should be banned. Banned! I should kick you out. No one should be fucking in Elle’s bed when Elle is getting none!”

The women burst out laughing. They both knew what that last sentence referred to. Their thoughts flashed back to a couple of nights ago, to the pinnacle of what may have been the most daring of Lisa’s nightly performances. “Josh, Josh…. Fuck me, fuck me on my best friend’s bed! Fuck me on Elle’s bed! Yes, Jack, fuck me where Jack fucks Elle!”

“Ohh, I’m sorry! I didn’t think anyone could hear us,” said Lisa, offering the most insincere apology of her life.

“Yeah, right!” snapped Elle with mock indignation.

“And I’m so sorry Jack is not around. Maybe I should lend you Josh for a night? My throat is getting a bit sore from all the… talking,” she replied, still playing innocent.

Elle was laughing. “Very funny, very funny you little bitch. Be careful what you wish for. I’m so desperate I might whack him over the head, chain him to the bed, and get myself some of whatever you’ve been getting that made you talk like that.”

Lisa was laughing at the other end, obviously entertained by her friend’s exasperation.

“Bitch,” Elle thought. But she knew how to get back at her.

“You know, I could have easily done it this morning. But since I am a good girl and such a nice friend, I decided not to.”

“What?” Lisa asked confusedly, still snickering at the thought of Josh chained to the bed. Mental note: she should try that some day.

“Wait. Let me get a towel and then I’ll tell you. You caught me standing naked right in the middle of the fucking living room! I don’t want to shock your dear Josh for the second time today.”

Shock? The second time today? What is this woman talking about?

Elle walked into her bedroom and took out a towel. As she bent over to reach the bottom drawer, her nude body reflected in the large mirror on the opposite wall. A smile came to her face. This was the first time she saw the new her. Her bare waxed ass was glistening, its crack still red from the morning’s treatment. Her pair of long legs, the thick pink pussy lips protruding between them. “They really do seem bigger with no hair. Puffier…” she thought. “I should have done this years ago.” She touched herself once more to feel the newfound non-compromising smoothness. A soft gasp escaped her lips. This begun to turn her on.

Ahh, there it is. The towel. “Now where’s my…”

“You know, I held your Josh’s cock in my hand this morning,” she matter-of-factly and without warning said as she picked up the cell phone.

“You WHAT?!”

“I. held. your. boyfriend. Josh’s. COCK. in my hand this morning.” she repeated, pausing after each word and accentuating the word bursa merkez escort bayan ‘cock’ by making it sound like the pop of uncorking a champagne bottle.

Lisa went silent, unsure how to respond. This obviously had to be another one of Elle’s little games or double entendres, but she wasn’t sure if she found it funny or not. She remained quiet, thinking about it.

Sensing her friend’s tension, Elle moved to defuse the situation. “Don’t worry, it’s more innocent than it sounds… Although, factually, it is correct.” She chucked wickedly.

“I ran into Josh this morning in the bathroom…” she continued to explain, “… and I mean literally ran *into* him. I returned from the morning run. I had my headphones on, couldn’t hear anything but the music. I didn’t think anyone was in the apartment, let alone the bathroom. Completely forgot you guys were staying here.”

“So I walked right in and crashed straight into the poor naked Josh. He must’ve just gotten out of the shower. He was all wet and fully clothed in his birthday suit and nothin’ else…”

By now Lisa was back from her initial state of shock. She felt disturbed, but decided to play along.

“And so you just had to go for his cock?” she asked with disapproval in her voice, meant to be mock, but sounding awfully genuine.

“No, I didn’t take advantage of your boyfriend,” Elle exclaimed. “As I crashed into him, we both slipped and fell to the floor. And falling down, I reached out for… for whatever I could grab onto. It really was an accident. I was totally embarrassed and let go as soon as I figured out what’s happened. I screamed and ran out. I’m pretty sure I freaked Josh out. He’s been hiding from me the whole day!”

Lisa was still quiet. Elle became concerned. Did she go too far with her teasing? She was telling the truth. But even Elle new there were limits, and maybe this time she crossed them. Lisa’s voice dissolved her fears.

“My poor little Josh, he got molested by his girlfriend’s best friend. I’ll have to give him some therapy tonight. Now that he’s been so traumatized, we may have to be louder during the ‘therapy’ sessions from now on… I’ll may even have to pretend to be his molester and make him punish me for my misdeeds.”

Elle chuckled at the thought. “You bitch. Don’t you dare do that to me!”

“Oh really? Was it me who tried to pull an accidental hand job on her friend’s boyfriend?”

“I didn’t try to pull anything!!!” Elle yelled in her defense. “But,” she muttered grumpily, “he could have me then and there given how horny I generally am these days. And I do have to say he packs quite a piece for his size. Mmm….”

Her voice tapered off as she relived the brief moment between the realization she was squeezing Josh’s cock, and letting it go and running away. It must have been, what, 6 1/2 inches? Seven? And at least an inch and a half thick. She could barely wrap her hand around it. And hard… Warm… Not bad for a guy an inch shorter than Lisa. As these images swirled through her head, a familiar sensation tinged Elle pussy.

“Bad Elle, bad Elle!” Lisa chided her gently. She empathized with her friend’s obvious horniness. Only now she truly began feeling sorry for Elle; that woman needs to get laid, and needs it fast.

“Well, he was naked, I was holding his thing, and how could I not look! Come to think of it, the only reason all of this could ever happen was because he had a huge hard-on! Now, how could he have one of those, Lisa? Have you been neglecting him?”

Now it was Lisa’s turn to be in the spotlight. “Of course I haven’t!” was to be her response, but honesty took over.

“Well… maybe a little…. and not for much more… And it’s not my fault! It’s mother nature… You know-“

“You got a period! YOU GOT A FUCKING PERIOD!? Fucking unbelievable. You’ve got a period and have an obviously horny guy here who could fuck you, while I’m horny as hell and my guy is four thousand miles away. Fucking unbelievable.”

Elle wasn’t faking any of the disbelief and frustration. She couldn’t make her mind whether to laugh or cry at the irony. The new information did explain the silence in the bedroom the last couple of nights.

“Don’t you at least give him blowjobs?” she continued.

“Elle!” Lisa yelped, surprised by the query directed at her.

“Oh, c’mon little Miss Sunshine, don’t be a prude now! How long have we known each other? You know everything there is to know about *my* sex life. And you’ve told me everything about yours and on more than one occasion. Remember? Not to mention I’ve heard all of it over the past few weeks!”

Elle was now enjoying her new offensive role. She felt Lisa squirm under the barrage of her words. And squirming, Lisa was. As usual, Elle was right – the two of them talked about their sex lives just like they talked about everything else. But when Elle started talking about blow jobs, Lisa knew where her friend’s line of questioning will ultimately lead. And this was making her uncomfortable.

But Elle was undaunted: “C’mon… I really don’t mind hearing some more. In spite of my complaints, it’s comforting to know at least my friends are getting some. Which brings me back to my question: did you at least blow him this morning? Or did I interrupt Josh jerking off in the shower?”

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