Russia online phone sex

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She said her boyfriend was studying just outside her bedroom door. "Just talk out loud for a second so I can hear your real voice." She refused.

I got a little freaked out—was this a guy I'd been talking to? Still, she seemed like a girl—there'd been a few times when I thought I'd heard her real voice, times when she laughed, times when she moaned. Houston, Baton Rouge, New Orleans, Tampa—Nicole and I skittered across the South; it was like Badlands for the new millennium (less killing, more "anytime minutes").

In a fucked-up way, this was the closest I'd had to a real girlfriend in years.

And the more we got to know each other, the more the sex improved. She started calling me every day, a half hour before my reading, when she knew I'd be out in the van getting my notes ready.

I just wanted to call and make sure you were doing all right."That night, on the shoulder of I-94, big rigs howling past, I thought of Nicole. We should meet up." There was a long pause, the kind of silence you hear when the TV's showing footage of a plane crash or a natural disaster and the anchorman's at a loss for words. It's fucking freezing here, anyway."Ten days later, I was in Austin. This was the kind of girl I'd move to Texas for. I turned away and headed out of the restaurant, almost bumping into a guy on his way in.

We'd had kind of a nice connection, hadn't we? Nicole suggested we get together at an Applebee's off I-35 at the far-north end of town. I wondered if we'd be having sex in my hotel room tonight. He was black with a shaved head, about 30 years old. Then slowly, shyly, he raised his hand and gave a little wave. We went inside and sat in a booth far from everyone.

Every few nights, I'd be out in the van after a show, making my bed in the backseat, when Nicole would call, and we'd get hot and heavy.

I was still wary that this was all some crazy prank by my friends and that our calls were being recorded, so during phone sex I kept things tongue-in-check, as though hamming it up for an audience.

Over the phone, Nicole definitely had the resigned spirit of a woman who'd had a lot of attention from guys in high school but then, knocked around by life, had slid hopelessly overweight.

She called me randomly one night in a Texas hotel room, and she wanted to have phone sex. In retrospect, maybe not the best move Late one cold, wet November night a couple of years ago, maybe 3 a.m., I was sitting on my bed in a Motel 6 just south of Austin, Texas, brushing my teeth and watching the closing moments of a college basketball game on ESPN2 that had been played earlier that night but was being rebroadcast and whose outcome was still a mystery to me, when the phone on the night table besides me jangled to life. Nobody knew I was there; I'd arrived only an hour earlier.

A year later, Nicole and I decided to meet face-to-face.

That night Nicole found me, Peter and I had been on the road for six months; we were about a hundred cities into the tour. If the fantasy is that we're having sex, I don't want to just zip up my pants the second we're done and leave. She also told me that her mother had passed away recently and that she'd been having a tough time with it—they'd been especially close.

Three nights later, in Oklahoma City, I was getting ready for bed out in the van when my cell phone rang. The next few times we talked, she was still whispering, which was starting to seem a little suspicious.

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