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By Tina Turner

John is one of my favorite lovers. He's exciting and sexy and has a great sense of humor. We've been lovers and friends for well over a year, but I've never met him. I couldn't describe him to any of my friends, and only a few even know about him because not everyone would understand how I can have a lover I've never met. No, he is not a fantasy or an imaginary friend. He's a very real man who happens to live in Chicago while I live in New York.
I suppose that we don't really live that far apart -- especially in this age of jet airplanes -- and would have been able to meet by now if we wanted to. Maybe we're both afraid to meet each other -- afraid that we wouldn't click in person -- or maybe we prefer the lack of responsibility inherent in our present relationship. What- ever the subconscious reasons, if either of us has ever been in the other's city, we've just never been able to arrange our schedules so we could get together.
And so our relationship has remained confined to the medium in which it began: the telephone.
John suggested we start a whole new campaign for AT&T aimed at long-distance lovers or phone pals like ourselves: low late-night rates, especially in the winter time. The heated conversations keep the ice off the equipment in the cold months, and the glowing yellow- orange lines created by all that hot talk can be used by pilots for navigation. The new slogan for the ads? "Reach out and touch yourself." What else?
How does someone go about getting a phone lover? I'm not really sure since I wasn't looking for what happened between John and me. For starters we're both very open to new and different things. Initially, John and I conversed on the phone in a business capacity that turned into friendship.
We both enjoy witty conversation and take every opportunity to make plays on words, especially in a sexual context. Along with the risqué' jokes there was an almost tangible electricity, perhaps generated by our well-matched mentalities. Eventually the joking and teasing led to a suggestion of making love on the phone, and the mental attraction injected real possibility into our teasing.
I also felt safe talking to John -- he wasn't some stranger calling numbers at random (who might also have my address), and he wasn't going to keep bugging me if the idea didn't go over. Besides, he has a sexy, melodic voice and I had wondered what kind of lover he would be. Is it so strange to be attracted to a man's voice, after all? I've listened to opera singers and jazz vocalists who've put me in the mood faster than a porn video could.
Our first time together, John did most of the work. I was sleeping soundly, tucked up against my pillows, when the phone rang. I answered it sleepily, and vulnerably, as it later turned out.
"I just had a dream about you," John said in a whispery, breathy, eager voice.
"What was it?" I asked, giggling a little and shivering with excitement.
It was four o'clock in the morning, and the "noir gla'mour" of that adventurous hour enhanced the novelty of the moment.
"I dreamed I was lying here in bed and you were there next to me, naked and so beautiful. It seemed so real, like I could reach out and touch you."
"If I >was< there, what would you do?" I whispered, that familiar tingle awakening in my groin.
"What would you like?"
"I love to kiss. It turns me on a lot. Are you a good kisser?"
"The best. I kiss you slowly and softly. I taste you and gently bite your lip. Then I move down and kiss your nipples. Tell me what they look like."
I threw back the sheet and studied my bare breasts in the half-light of a summer morning.
"The areolas are about the size of half-dollars and my nipples are about the size of pencil erasers -- perfect for nibbling. I like them nibbled on because they're not all that sensitive."
"Touch them for me. Caress your tits and pinch the nipples.. how does it feel?"
I did what he asked, never once thinking about faking it.
"Mmmmm. It feels wonderful."
"Then I kiss my way down between your legs. Describe your pussy to me."
"I have thick, curly, tawny brown hair. I keep it trimmed."
"What about the inside?" What about the slit?"
"It has kind of curly folds, like the edges of a cooked oyster, and it's very rosy -- more rosy than pink."
"What's your scent like?"
"I don't have a strong scent."
"Is it wet?"
"Sopping. I always get very wet."
"Touch yourself. Is your clit swollen?"
"Like a little pea."
"Wet your finger and taste it."
I did so, then went back to slowly stroking my slippery slit.
"I'd lick your slit up and down. Then I'd stick my tongue in as far as I could, scooping out your juices. More licking up and down and then I'd suck on your clit, pulling it into my mouth until you come. What's happening with you now?"
"I'm grinding my hips on the bed. I want to do you. I want you."
"What do you want to do?"
"I want to suck your cock." I tried to picture him lying there stroking his erect prick as he talked to me.
"Tell me more."
"I want to start by licking your balls and playing with them. Then I'll lick the shaft lightly up and down like a bee fluttering around a popsicle. I'll flick my tongue over the head, playing with the little hole on top. I'll suck the head a little. But once I go down on it, I keep at it. I deep-throat it every few strokes and I suck on it hard while I keep stroking with my hand. Once I get it in my mouth I get so excited I just suck away.. Oh John, I want you to fuck me now."
"I lay you on your back and kneel between your legs rubbing the head of my cock up and down the slit of your pussy. Then I put it in slowly and I can feel your pussy. Grabbing at it inch by inch. It feels so good. I fuck you slowly at first, building you up until you can't stand it."
"I want it fast and hard now," I gasped. "I want you to fuck me and bite my nipples."
We were both breathing so heavily by this time it was hard to discern all the words.
"I fuck you faster and deeper with every stroke until my cock is bumping the back of your pussy. I kiss and bite your nipples, your neck, behind your ears. My cock goes so deep into you, and I gyrate my pelvis frantically so I touch every inch of the walls of your pussy."
"I feel you. I feel your cock stroking that spot.."
"Come for me, baby."
"I'm going to come now, John. I want you to come, too. I want you to come inside me."
"I'm going to come and you can feel it shooting into you strong and hot."
With that, we both gasped into the phone as we came. My back arched off the bed as my fingers worked the soft, buttery folds of my pussy. It was wonderfully decadent and satisfying.
That is, until we said good night and broke the connection. The drawback was having to nestle down into bed alone with no firm warm body to cuddle against.

As you can tell, phone sex is not for anyone with an aversion to four-letter words. You also have to be extremely comfortable with masturbation. It also helps if you're vocal when you climax.
John always tells me how many times he spurts when he comes and then after a few endearing words and a lot of teasing, we hang up. I would recommend phone sex to anyone who's looking for a way to add variety to their sex life. In fact, I have recommended it.
As I mentioned before, some of my friends are aware of my relationship with John. The most common question is, how do we keep the sex from growing stale -- after all, we've been doing it for almost two years. Well, there are several ways to vary phone sex. We describe what we'd do in various positions or acts of sex. For instanced, my sumptuous, very sensual description of tit-fucking.
"I'll spread almond oil on your hard, hot cock and then rub it all over my tits until they glisten. My hard nipples will shine in the candlelight. You'll straddle me and press your dick against my chest. I love how stiff and hot it feels.
"I'll lift my tits up so that they press against either side of your cock and you'll slide it back and forth. It'll be warm and slick -- almost as good as my pussy. I'll flick the head of your cock with my tongue as you thrust forward. Then I'll press my tits even harder against you and play with the nipples. When you come you'll thrust it into my mouth and I'll suck every single precious drop from you.
John has also instructed me on how to use my vibrator. There were interruptions with that one, however. My cat likes the sound of the vibrator, and he kept nuzzling my chin and purring, knocking the phone off my shoulder.
Then one night when I called John he had just put a porn film on his VCR. He described the action (a threesome) to me and we both got off. That gave me the idea of copying one of my favorite porn films, "The Grafenburg Spot."
We watched the flick together, John in Chicago and me in New York, and we had achieved our goal within the first ten minutes of the film.
Because of the distance provided by the telephone, maybe we're both more uninhibited than we might usually be. In any case, the relationship has led me to try other scenarios I previously wasn't much interested in. One of those was a threesome. One night -- inevitably -- there was a woman with him when I called. John put Kathy (he seems to like girls with cheerleader names -- Debbie, Cindy, Kathy) on his wireless phone. With all three of us describing the moves or giving orders, I listened intently and avidly while Jim and Kathy fucked each other passionately and I came feverishly.
Unfortunately, I felt a little lonely afterward since he had someone there to continue the good times with or cuddle up with after the connection was broken, whereas I again had an empty bed.
Another first was a threesome on my end. One evening I was at the apartment of one my closest friends. We had been drinking and talking about sex, as usual. In a fit of honesty I told her about my relationship with John. She thought it was great.
We drank a little more and went on watching Paul Newman in some movie. We kept wishing we had a man with us, and even tried to reach of couple of men we knew, but without success. Then I hit on the idea of phoning John. He was all for it. I'm not surprised.
Tina and I sat on her kitchen floor (she had only one phone and it was in the kitchen). We were naked and drunk and horny. The linoleum was cold and the room was dark. John's voice sounded extra resonant and sexier than ever. After the introduction was made, we giggled and waited for someone to start something.
Suddenly, Tina leaned over and sucked my nipple, very gently.
"Oh!" I exclaimed.
"What's the matter?" John asked.
"She's -- oh! She's sucking on my tit," I told him.
"Do you like it?"
"Actually, yes. Do you?"
"I love it. If you like it, what's the problem?"
"I don't know. I didn't expect it. I thought we were all just going to masturbate together."
"Relax. Enjoy it."
"Okay."
"So tell me what she's doing."
"She's got her hand on my pussy. She's playing with me."
"Does it feel good?"
"Yes. Very good. Mmmmm.."
"Do you think you'll come?"
"I always come."
"Are you horny?"
"I'm always horny."
"What's she doing now?"
"She's licking me. John, I've never done this before."
"How does it feel?"
"It feels good. I wish it were you."
"Now what's happening?"
"Tina's licking my clit and finger-fucking me.. John I'm going to come now."
"Now you should reciprocate," John said.
He listened while I gasped in a paroxysm of pleasure. Tina raised her head and kissed me on the lips so I could taste my juices.
Tentatively, I reached out and touched her pussy. It was wet and warm, much like my own. Touching it was strangely familiar, but still I was unsure of what to do. Under John's guidance I brought Tina -- and him -- to orgasm. And Tina pushed me over the edge once again.
Then we started on the oral stuff. First I stood up while Tina -- at John's command -- parted my pussy lips and licked me up and down. Then she lay down on the kitchen floor and I straddled her head. We went into a sixty-nine position with John telling me what to do and listening to the slurp of Tina's dripping cunt, which smelled similar to mine -- not too strong or fishy like girls I had stood near in the gym. I made her scream with pleasure so that John could hear her all the way in Chicago. She went to work on me with a vengeance and John shot off yet again.
Because the call was getting expensive we hung up and Tina and I sat on the linoleum, which was wet with sweat and love juices. We were both still very horny but not much interested in each other alone. John's aural presence had been the catalyst, and we were not inspired to proceed without another man's presence.
So we went to separate beds satisfied at how bold we had been and yet not totally satisfied for lack of physical contact with a man.
I wonder if I'll ever find a New York lover as open and as much of a friend as John is.
I wonder if John will ever come to New York so that I can finally get under the covers with him and play submarine captain -- you know, up his periscope.
More than that, I wonder if John and I will have as good a time in person as we do over the phone. I know that I want to give it a try.