It's me again... rather than continuing Three's Company right
now - reader response wasn't overwhelming - I'm posting a short piece
of fluff I knocked out in an hour or two.
This is fiction, of course, and is not intended to correspond
to anybody I know, or anybody _you_ may know. I retain all rights to
this piece of work, and it may not be published in any form for
commercial purposes without my _express, written permission_. You may
keep a copy on disk or paper for your own pleasure, or to share; just
don't sell it to anybody!
DESCRIPTION: This story is fairly mild; mostly masturbation and
fantasy. Pretty timid stuff, but hey... I'll stick with what I know!
Taking a guess that people didn't want to read a whole section of set-
up with no serious wanking material, I'll keep it short this time.
Cheryl pushed the glasses back on her forehead. She had gotten
done with writing her e-mail for the day, and was getting ready to log
off when a message flashed at the bottom of the screen. It read:
"Talk request from: jester"
She thought for a bit; no one she knew used a nickname like "jester".
Curious, she punched in the reply.
Hello. Are you busy?
She typed in "No, not really."
"Good. I don't mean to bother you, but I've seen you around
campus and finally found out who you are. I'd seen your name on the
list of users, so I thought we could chat for a while."
Cheryl looked around the lab. There weren't many people around
the lab, and most of them seemed absorbed in their own projects.
"I have no problem with that, I guess."
"Good. I want to ask you a few questions. Have you ever talked
anybody on these machines who you didn't know?"
"No," Cheryl typed, "you're the first."
"I see. Do you think you could ever be attracted to someone you
met on the net?"
Cheryl wondered for a minute. "I don't know. Why do you ask?"
"Well, I have an interesting proposition for you. Basically..."
She waited; when Jester didn't finish, she typed "Basically
"Basically, I want to talk dirty to you."
Cheryl typed "Not interested. Sorry." and began to log off,
when Jester typed "Just a minute. Let me explain."
Cheryl thought for a minute. "Why should I agree?"
"Well, I'm a psychology major and I want to test a theory. I
want to see if you could be aroused without having any visual or
audial cues. Only what I write."
She looked around. The only guys in the lab still seemed
focused on whatever they were working on; however some of them were
facing her, and she couldn't tell what was on their terminal screens.
Oddly enough, she was getting aroused. The thought of having
some total stranger "talking" to her was getting her hot.
"Sure. Why not?"
"Wonderful. First, imagine that I am sitting next to you."
"What do you look like?" she typed.
":) Sorry, but that would be telling. Just imagine someone
tall, dark and handsome - someone whom you would be attracted to."
Cheryl closed her eyes for a second. She pictured Jeff, the guy
who lived on the floor below her, and who she kept bumping into. He
had ruddy skin and short hair. He had a fairly athletic build. She
smiled; he'd do.
"Now imagine that we're in a grassy field somewhere. We're
sitting there; you're sitting between my legs, and leaning against my
chest. Think of the feel of the grass underneath us; the feel of my
chest against your back."
Cheryl felt Jeff's pectorals pressing against her back. The
thought of that warmed her blood. She shifted in her seat.
"Imagine that I reach around you and began to fondle your...do
you mind if I talk dirty, or would you be offended?"
"Go ahead; it's your game." she typed.
":) Okay, I'm reaching around you and grabbing your tits. I'm
stroking them and rubbing and pinching your nipples. (Go ahead and do
so if you feel it'll help...)"
Cheryl looked around; no one was watching. She slipped her
long, slender fingers over her breasts, and circled her nipples. The
feeling was exciting; even more so that she was sitting in the open.
"I'm rubbing your tits. One of my hands slips down and begins
to stroke your thigh. I'm rubbing with one hand and stroking your
thigh with the other."
"(Are you wearing a skirt, pants, or shorts?)"
Cheryl typed "You mean you don't know?"
":) Sorry, but I don't. I didn't see you come in."
Cheryl grinned. "I'm wearing a skirt."
"Tight, or fairly loose?"
"Loose; it's pleated, like a cheerleader's skirt."
":) Okay, I'm stroking your thigh with one hand. It traces its
way slowly up to your knee, and up to the hem of your skirt. (Feel
free to use your hand if it'll help.)"
Cheryl began idly sliding her hand up and down her leg. She
liked the feel of her smooth fingers on her skin; she traced little
circles on her legs.
"Now I'm taking my other hand and rubbing your other thigh. I'm
spreading your legs a little, and sliding my hands up and down your
Cheryl spread her legs a little. She looked up; one of the guys
was getting ready to go. She put her hands back on the keyboard, and
looked attentive as he left.
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I don't want to make it obvious what's going on."
"I understand. Now, I was rubbing your thighs, and planting
little baby kisses on the back of your neck. (Don't worry about
simulating that part...)"
Cheryl giggled. One guy looked up; Cheryl blushed slightly and
went back to the screen.
"I take one of my hands and slip it under your skirt. I'm
tickling your inner thighs. (Go ahead.)"
She typed "I'm going to get caught."
"No you won't. No one is close enough to see, so long as you're
Cheryl flipped her skirt up and slid her left hand between her
"As I'm kissing your neck and stroking one thigh, I lightly
trace the hem of your panties - you _are_ wearing panties, aren't
Cheryl typed "Yes."
"Okay, I'm tracing the hem of your panties with my index
finger. I slide up over your thigh, then back between your legs. (Do
She slid the fingernail along the hem. She was really getting
turned on by this treatment! She hooked her finger under the hem
between her legs; she could feel herself getting damp.
"I reach up with my other hand and slide your panties off. (Go
ahead and do it.)"
Cheryl stopped. She quickly typed, "No way. Feeling myself up
is one thing, but I'm not doing a striptease in the damn lab!"
Jester waited. Then, "If you really want to stop, we can. But
if you agree to continue, you _have_ to do _everything_ I tell you, no
Cheryl thought about it. If she stopped, she'd only leave
herself hanging; she was really starting to enjoy this. But the last
thing she needed was someone spotting her; she'd be suspended for sure
if she got caught.
"Okay. Go ahead." she typed.
":) Excellent. I was hoping you'd agree. Now take your panties
Cheryl sat up slightly and slowly squirmed out of her panties.
When they got around her knees, she spread her legs and let them drop
to the floor. She picked them up and tucked them into her backpack,
under her books.
"Okay. They're off."
"Now, I'm stroking your tits again. I'm breathing into your ear
slowly. In... out. In...out. My left hand slides down between your
legs. My fingertip is tracing the slit of your pussy. (I don't have to
tell you, do I?)"
She looked around. Another guy got up, along with a woman.
Cheryl stopped, but they went out the door at the far end of the room.
She stroked her right nipple and began to finger herself.
"Now spread your legs as far as your skirt will let you. I'm in
front of you now, and I'm kissing you passionately."
Cheryl licked her lips.
"I stop kissing you, and lean down. I kiss your right knee,
then your left. I slowly kiss my way inwards to your pussy. (Use your
imagination; I'm there. Use your hands to pretend.)"
"I slip my tongue along your slit. You need to spread your lips
so I can get further inside..."
Cheryl complied; she held herself open and slipped her
"I'm switching to my hand; I slide my finger in, probing you."
She began to squirm. Her finger began moving in and out. Her
other hand slid up to her nipples again, and she pinched them. The
pain only added to her stimulation.
"I'm beginning to stroke faster; I want to make you come."
Cheryl smiled. Her finger wasn't doing enough, so she slipped
another finger in. The fit was tight, but the pressure felt wonderful.
Cheryl's hand was practically a blur. Her other hand went to
rubbing her clit. Cheryl's mind was spinning; her she was, finger-
fucking herself in the computer lab!
Suddenly she felt an orgasm building up.
"Come on baby; make yourself come."
Cheryl didn't care anymore; the feeling was too overpowering.
She leaned back, closed her eyes and moaned slightly as the waves of
warmth washed over her. The intensity increased, and finally the
orgasm broke. She tried not to scream; it came out as a whining sigh,
with Cheryl gritting her teeth. She began gasping. She leaned over and
rested her head on the keyboard.
When she looked up, there was a solitary message on the screen.
She looked around, but the lab was empty. She never saw the last
people leave. As she read the message, she felt the cold hand of
astonishment clear her mind.
Well, I hope that was as fun for you as it was for me.
Don't worry; I was the last one to leave. I don't think
anyone ever knew what was going on.
It seems like the mind is a powerful sex toy; I don't know
what you pictured, but it seemed to work.
Just goes to show you that love isn't necessarily blind,
merely selectively nearsighted. Makes me believe a woman
like me can find somebody to love.
Don't act so surprised; I never said I was a man. And
besides, did it really matter?