Talking Dirty

TALKING DIRTY
© 2002 by Edward deVere. All rights reserved.

I work in a down and out neighborhood much like the one in this story. The characters too are composites of real people I have known and worked with there. Otherwise of course this is a work of fiction. If you happen to resemble some of these characters it is not only coincidental but a sign you should seriously look at getting some help! I had a lot of fun writing this and I hope you do reading it. Comments and crits welcome.
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Debra was the love of my life. Even though we had been partners for over ten years she still fascinated me. It wasn’t that she was ravishingly beautiful or anything else purely physical. It was her mind, her bubbling personality, and her wonderful imagination that captivated me and kept me pathetically grateful for every day she was in my life.

Mind you, Debra was not hard to look at. She was incredibly cute with bright sparkling brown eyes, a compact girlish figure, short wavy dark hair and a huge impish grin that would just light up my soul every time she flashed it. She had looks, but she had that certain something extra that made you look deeper. She had charisma.

Depression never draped itself over Debra’s day the way it sometimes did mine. I could be moody and taciturn and sometimes took my job as a social worker home with me. I worked with some of the most dysfunctional people in the city’s downtown core and at times I felt their pain too acutely. The dark cloud of their mental illnesses, addictions and other disabilities sometimes settled over our house – until Debra caught sight of it that is.

“David, have you brought those poor crippled people home again? I mean I like old One-Tooth Sally and Hector the Heaver, but did you have to bring them over for dinner?” she would ask me looking all serious. I would try to stay glum but she would crack me up with that ironic mix of innocent concern and mouthful of street nicks. God, she was so damn sweet and yet at times more streetwise than me– a similar irony that was a large part of what made our sex life so fascinatingly debauched at times.

In the bedroom Debra became completely engrossed in her sexual pleasure, often having rapid fire, machine gun like orgasms – 20 or even 30 in a night. She had an active fantasy life and no inhibitions now about sharing it with me. Debra loved talking dirty!

I had always been out there about my stuff but Debra took some time to feel comfortable with her own unique Debra-brands of kinkiness. When she finally got there though I had a hell of a time keeping up! She discovered in herself a very strong but hitherto latent bi-sexual streak, which took her completely by surprise, but voyeuristic inclinations she knew had always been there. Debra loved to watch too.

Outside the bedroom Debra was every inch the dedicated young primary school teacher she so loved being. A four-letter word would not DARE enter her mouth before it would die of shame!

Paradoxically, in the bedroom Debra loved sex in a very intense way. She would relish my hardcore descriptions of sex with her or others (women OR men. I had been through my own bi-curious period) while she rubbed herself furiously against my thigh, used her hand on herself or had me get her off with one of several dildoes and vibrators we had collected. She especially enjoyed my whispered, urgent sexual commands while I fucked her senseless or, at least I confess, for as long as I could hold back.

In turn, often after PTA meetings for example, Debra would regale me with a fantasy (one she had yet to carry out) involving a mother that night she had developed an insatiable letch for, or a father’s cum she wanted to suck right up through his balls! Every teacher fantasy I’d ever had as a horny young elementary and high school student we role played together. She would be the horny young instructress tempting me into the wicked ways of the adult world while I learned (among many other things) of that special way to pass her very exacting oral exams!

One day in our relationship, though, I especially needed her warmth more than her heat. I lost two of my favorite characters from the ‘Hood’. ‘Misogyny’ Lou McAllister (as we called him) was an old, wet-brained little Scotsman with a hate on for all things female, and Mistress Donna “Domina” Wagner (or “Viagra” as we called her), who hated, among many other things, Misogyny Lou McAllister.

Debra liked Lou a lot too. When he set eyes on her for the first time in my office waiting room he shuffled up to her sputtering and cursing, looked her up and down and announced his verdict: “Aye,” he burred in his crusty Glaswegian accent, “an’ yon’s a cheesy lookin’ little cunt!” So saying the skinny little troll turned smartly on his heels, brushed past us and shuffled off into the blue. Debra collapsed on a chair and didn’t stop laughing until we got home some two hours later.

Mistress Domina had her charms too but she was a little harder to take. She stood a good six feet tall and weighed in at at least 250 pounds. She’d worked the streets for years and was known to be rough trade, a raging fetish queen all black leather and attitude, which some guys liked – at least those who lived long enough to tell about it. Alas, Misogyny Lou was not one of them.

As was his wont Lou was out after dark one night with a skin-full of cheap wine and Mistress Domina was at her usual corner barking at the traffic that cruised by ogling her. Lou, in his usual wine soaked way, was staggering along and cursing every working girl he met – “Arrrrgh, ye poxy auld whores! Come an’ blow a tune on me bagpipe!” or ” ‘ere lass! Coom an’ lick me sporran!” he’d cackle at them grabbing at his crotch.

The girls all took him in stride that night except for Domina Viagra, of course, who had half a fifth of vodka in her along with a giant hair up her ass about something, as usual.

“Oh, it’s you, you skuzzy little shit,” she snarled as Misogyny Lou approached her muttering and sputtering.

“Heheheh….” Lou is reported to have chuckled, “an’ ain’t yer just the great fat mother-fookin’ ‘ore a Baby-lon all dress’d oop like some cheap clap doctor’s clerk…” he chortled, when a 12 pound purse full of ball stretchers, a Bowie knife, nipple clamps and half a fifth of vodka connected with the side of his head, instantly extinguishing Lou’s remaining six brain cells.

Misogyny Lou McAllister, age 70, late of Glasgow, Scotland by way of at least eight different Skid Rows, had lipped off his last Lady of the Lamp-Light and gone on to that great Hooker Stroll in the Sky. It was the end of an era.

It was the end of Mistress Domina’s time on the street too. As Donna “Domina Viagra” Wagner was led away admiring the cuffs they’d trussed her up with, the arresting officers were looking down at Lou’s frail, cooling corpse trying desperately hard not to laugh out loud. “It was self-defense!” she wailed as she was led away, “The little shit tried to rape me!”

Debra was there for me that night, sharing my grief over Lou and suggesting that Mistress Domina, being openly and extravagantly bi-sexual, far from doing hard time would soon instead have a whole prison full of “subbies” to “dom” for the rest of her life. I couldn’t help but see Debra’s point and I felt somewhat better.

Little did I know but this talk about sex and prisons was destined eventually to take our relationship to a whole new level. Debra’s fantasies began taking on a ‘penal’ bent so to speak.

At first Debra imagined herself locked up night and day with a hundred sex-starved women, which added further spice (as if it were needed) to our sexual couplings. Then ‘Domina’ re-entered our life.

I began receiving letters from Donna Wagner shortly after she was sentenced for doing in poor old Lou. Prison was changing her, she said. She was free from booze and drugs, exercising every day and over the past year had lost almost a hundred pounds. I was impressed and Debra was too. We arranged to visit her.

Neither of us was quite prepared for the transformation Donna had undergone. She appeared before us in the visitor’s area seated behind a plexi-glass screen. When she stood up to greet us she took our collective breath away! Gone was the obese street sloppy leather queen and in its place was a tall, dark-haired svelte, sexy woman who belied her 43 years by at least 10. She was a knockout! And if I was entranced, Debra was mesmerized; I could practically hear her mouth watering!

We talked with Donna for at least two hours and were amazed at the new person she had become. No longer sullen and full of fight she talked openly of the wasted years of addiction and excess, her background of abuse and neglect and her days behind bars now spent part-time as a university student working toward an English degree. Donna wanted to write and what stories no doubt she could tell!

All the way home we talked about Donna and Debra confessed to feeling enormously attracted towards her. That, at least, I understood. Whatever else Donna Wagner a.k.a. Domina Viagra had become she was now undeniably sexy with luscious Zaftig curves and breasts like big tropical fruits straining to escape her neat cotton work shirt. Her smoldering dark eyes, long black hair and full red lips giving up shy, almost girlish smiles had both our hormones humming. I could tell too, that Donna had her eyes all over my partners’ well shaped little body.

I was content to visit Donna once a month or so but Debra made the 2-hour drive to see her every Sunday. She had promised, ostensibly at least, to help her with her studies. The second weekend out though Debra asked her about sex behind bars and confessed to her wicked fantasies around that scenario.

Donna did not disappoint nor disabuse her of the notion. Sex behind bars in a women’s prison was an everyday occurrence, almost unremarkable, except for the intensity of the passions it often aroused. The voyeur in Debra was hooked and the raw talented storyteller that Donna was becoming rose to the descriptive challenge.

“Honey,” Donna drawled, “I have pussy 3 times a day in here! Last week I was with Jenny, a red-haired little fox with big titties who loves momma to spank her when she’s bad. And she is soooo bad!” she laughed. “We did it in the kitchen store room, in the shower stalls off the range and in our cells at lockdown. We kissed and fucked our little pussies all red and swollen for days!” They both laughed together at the image but both women could feel the heat rising as Donna’s bawdy tales of lust and seduction behind prison walls continued.

But suddenly Donna stopped in the middle of relating the salacious details of a small orgy in the gym last week to take a sensuous breathy sigh then look Debra, sweet innocent looking 4th grade teacher Debra, right in the eyes and begin slowly to unbutton her shirt. Debra gasped as a view of pillowy cleavage was exposed, then a white cotton sport bra, until the blue denim shirt hung open. Donna took the edge of the bra and lifted it, baring her huge breasts to Debra’s unblinking, astonished gaze.

“I just so like my titties played with,” Donna murmured into the phone and into Debra’s ear. “My nipples are soooo sensitive!” she added, stroking an enormous brown one with her fingers until Debra thought it might burst from swelling.

“Now you sweet baby Jane” Donna whispered into Debra’s ear. Debra looked around quickly, surprised at her rapid acquiescence. Because it was still early the visiting area was deserted. The guards, she noticed, were all tucked away in their office hidden by the interview area dividers. The two women were virtually alone to finish out this strange dance of passion they had started. Tentatively she began to undo her blouse.

“This is crazy” she whispered to Donna behind the plexi-glass but pulled open her white sheer blouse and lifted her bra. Seeing the satisfied smile on Donna’s face she asked “You like them?”

Donna’s jaw dropped at the sight of Debra’s round firm breasts and hard little pink nipples, answering her inquiry. She too began to stroke her own nipples and felt a flood of juices running from her pussy.

Donna moaned into the phone then both women moved together and pressed their breast flesh flat against the plastic divider between them, nipple to nipple. Their lips moved together too in an intense kiss just a mere half-inch apart from each other. Even so, Debra thought it was the most erotic kiss she’d ever experienced. Their tongues danced together against the cool clear plastic and their eyes locked in a steamy embrace.

The palms of both women’s hands met, fingers pointing down and began descending as if each could reach between the legs of the other. As they reached their pubic regions they slowly stroked each other through the glass as if they had finally broached soft yielding pussy flesh.

Donna stepped back and watched Debra’s hand intently. “Play for me baby” she whispered, “Play with your hot little cunt while I watch!”

Debra couldn’t believe herself as her right hand undid her jeans and pulled them down to her knees. Her white cotton panties followed. She thought briefly of her oh so prim and proper principal Ms. Buxton, and chuckled inwardly at the thought of the woman’s face if she could see her now. Or her students! Oh my God! she whispered to herself.

Donna’s own hand had meanwhile disappeared between her own legs and moved rapidly beneath her blue cotton work pants. Debra boldly bared her sex, plunged a finger into her wet little slit and began to masturbate as Donna gazed on.

Donna panted into the phone, “Oh my! That pink little snatch is so beautiful, honey! Fuck yourself good now baby! I wanna watch you finger fuck that hot little twat. Fuck that cunt for me babydoll!” Donna lowered her own pants too.

Donna’s words were like fire to Debra’s soul. She had never heard talk quite like this before, not from me and certainly not from another woman. It drove her wild. And now she saw revealed the dark tangle of Donna’s pussy fur with two fingers plunging deep inside her own cunt and the site brought Debra near to climaxing. She matched Donna’s actions by inserting fingers into her own neatly trimmed dark bush and found her G spot. She fucked herself loudly; even placing the phone receiver next to her eager fingers so Donna could lap up the sticky wet sounds of her self-pleasuring.

“Oh my God, I’m coming!” Debra panted urgently, bringing the phone back to her mouth. A shudder ran through her whole body and a gigantic wave of orgasmic energy coursed up through her abdomen and out to very tips of her fingers. She mouthed a silent scream, and with a look of intense concentration willed herself against all odds to remain quiet lest anyone here her.

What did escape from Debra was a low-key wailing and three huge squirts of ejaculate from her urethra, the first time she’d ever come that way. Her hand was soaked with her juices and a small puddle of the clear come had gathered on the floor at her feet.

Those squirts were way too much for Donna who, with Debra staring open-mouthed in front of her, had an intense, soul-searing orgasm that literally took her breath away. As the shakes and tremors slowly subsided from both women they looked up and flashed wicked evil grins at each other.

“Never done that before in jail,” giggled Donna, “Y’all come back now, y’ hear?” Donna then blew Debra a kiss and hung up her phone. Debra laughed and returned the kiss with a sensual smack of her swollen lips.

Donna did up her clothes and waved a hand goodbye. Then, with a toss of her long dark hair, she turned and walked back into the prison compound as if nothing had happened.

Debra stared at her retreating figure for several stunned seconds not quite believing what had just happened. She straightened up her own clothing then calmly walked back to her car. The guards didn’t even look up.

Debra couldn’t wait to tell me all about it of course. I was amazed and awestruck by their ingenuity and daring but something puzzled me. Debra made a lot of noise when she had sex, over and above the dirty talking she loved. How did she manage to keep quiet enough for the whole prison not to hear her?

“Oh, that was hard,” she said to me in that earnest, almost naïve way she had,
” But what I did,” she said in all seriousness “was remember just what happened to the LAST poor soul who talked dirty to ol’ Domina Viagra!”

When I finally stopped laughing I had to stop and wonder if the ghost of old Misogyny Lou McAllister hadn’t been in that room in the jail, keeping the guards distracted and the visitors out while “yon cheesy little cunt an’ the great poxy whore o’ Babylon” went at it in the corner. I bet he was.

END
©2002 by the author. All rights reserved.