WARNING: Reader discretion strongly advised (again).
What did I just do? I don't know what I did. Somebody swoop in and define it for me, because this all just took another step outside the box of normalcy and I'd at least like a good way to convey it to the shrink when they're locking me in a padded cell. What in the fuck just happened here?
Sorry. I didn't mean to start this entry into the Captain's Log sounding so schizo. Let's start examining why I feel schizo, and then I'll go back to having an existential crisis.
As soon as I answered Amy's call I heard sobbing, which, in case you might find this information useful someday, is the worst possible way to start any phone conversation. I'm already thinking Bright got in another accident, or her grandma had a heart attack or something. So I say, "Amy, what's wrong? What happened?"
"I... I can't..."
"Amy, talk to me, come on. Are you okay? Do you need an ambulance or something?"
"No, no," she sniffled, catching onto why I sounded frantic. "Sorry, I- I was already crying, I didn't mean for it to sound like- I'm sorry."
"Okay," I sigh, still on edge. "Then what's the sitch?"
"I can't do it, Laynie. Please don't be mad at me for calling, I tried, I tried so hard, and I kept d-dropping it, and I h-hurt myself a little... oh God, I'm some kind of invalid, I can't even pleasure myself, how am I ever supposed to make a boy happy?"
Stomach gurgling, I quietly crept to my door, shut it, locked it. "Okay, take a few deep breaths." While I talked, I moved my boombox to the crack under the door and turned it on at medium volume. It's a little trick I've learned; it makes the parents think I have it in its usual spot on full-blast. My own personal Cone of Silence. "Shoot me if I'm barking up the wrong tree, but I'm gonna guess you're trying out your most recent purchases."
"Trying and failing. I don't understand how I can be this bad at it!"
"Maybe you should put that stuff aside for right now and we can go hang out somewhere. What are you doing right now?"
"Trying to... to put it in again, I- urgh, dammit!"
"AMY!" I gasp, instantly feeling my face bursting with that cherry-tomato redness. "Can't you wait until I'm off the phone?"
"I'm some kind of sex-retard, I swear! What's going to happen to me?"
Gritting my teeth, I snapped, "Don't say 'retard', it's a slur. And you're pushing this too much, you know that, right? You'll end up a wreck if you try to merge into the fast lane before you're ready."
"I know, you told me already, I just... I thought I could just be all cool and start in, because it was so much fun before, but every time I try I get all nervous and... and I'm so dumb."
"Calm the fuck down," I ordered. "Take a deep breath." She did. "Okay, listen. I'm gonna tell you what you're gonna do, and then I'll hang up and you will be absolutely fine. Understand?"
"No, I won't, I'll mess it up again, I know I'll choke, I'll fumble around like I have been and probably end up perforating a kidney."
I couldn't help but crack a smile at that. "Stop. Now are you listening? Good. You have to open your legs as wide as you can. Relax every single muscle below your waist; at least, you should before it gets in, after that it doesn't matter what's relaxed and what isn't."
"Now put it in position. Hold it there. Are you starting to feel nervous yet?"
"Of course I feel nervous! Don't you see what I'm about to do?"
What I wanted to say was "No, and thank God", but I didn't; instead, "Just put the tip of it in. Hold it right around the middle like it's a flashlight. Got it?" The unholy sound coming out of the phone told me she did. "O-oh. Right, you got it. Now all you have to do is keep pushing it in and you'll be golden."
"Wait!" she gasped out. "W-wait, you can't leave me, y-you have to help me through it!"
"You got this!" I hissed, trying to ignore the way my pulse was speeding up, the itchy feeling in the center of my pelvis. "Go forth and have much fun, girlfriend!"
"Please! I need you!"
"W-what is that supposed to mean?" I couldn't help but sputter.
"I need your help so bad! Just hearing you on the other end of the phone, it... it makes this... nnhhh, Laynie, don't make me beg!"
I swear to God it was the combination of the moan and the "begging" part, but yeah. Yeah, I guess I won't try to lie since lying to yourself if one of the great cardinal sins, and this journal is to myself: at that point I became really turned on.
So sue me! All freaking day had been about nothing but dildos and their uses, I was bound to end up jonesing sooner or later! What was I supposed to do, go take a cold shower while my best friend cried like a televangelist from something that was supposed to be enjoyable?
"It's okay," I told her hollowly as I began to twitch my legs together, started breathing faster. "Nothing's wrong; I'll stay right here, just do what you're doing."
"Thank you!" she bleated, which was worse than the begging. "God, Laynie... I... mhh, it's so hard to keep my hand on it when all I w-wanna do is- is lie back and take it!"
"Well, you can't exactly do that, so there's no use whining. Just... do your best. Nobody's judging."
At this point she started making more noise than sense, so I won't bother telling you about that. What I will tell you is that as the time wore on, she sounded less afraid and more unhinged – not quite giddy, no way, just, y'know... like she was getting ploughed. And as I heard more and more of that, I felt more and more aroused. There was no freaking way to head it off, the sounds coming out of that phone were so erotic and unrehearsed! It was like listening to amateur porn, only better because she really didn't have any control over herself. It left me speechless. I mean, I kept saying stuff like "You're doing fine, keep it up, that's it", but I couldn't think to save my life at that point.
The other thing that happened is I began to sweat. I began to writhe and pitch back and forth, making some pretty huge effort to ignore my bodily reactions to her pleasure-soaked voice. Finally, when I realized I was actually rubbing myself through my jeans when I hadn't consciously started doing it that I let out a nervous laugh and said, "Okay, you really... really seem to have the hang of it! I'm just gonna-"
"You can't!" she grunted, all raw need and recklessness. "I'll... I'll be done in a minute, I swear, I can feel it! Oh, it's so amazing, I love this!"
Now I was the one crying. Crying as I slid a hand down the front of my jeans. "Yeah? You love it? We made the right choice?"
"Yes! Yes, God yes, it's the best fifty bucks I ever spent!"
Vulgarity time: I had never been so wet in my whole worthless life. It was embarrassing. Nobody else in the great wide world knew about it, and I was embarrassed for myself to know. That's how bad it was. "Wh-which one are you using? Colour me curious."
"The dong!" she gasped. "I... I wasn't quite ready for any vibrations, you know? So I... mmhh, wow, I can't even imagine what this would be like if it were moving on its own!"
I let out a little gasp of my own. She never heard me; she was making such a racket that I bet all the neighbors were wondering who was watching a primal scream therapy video. I felt one of my socks slip down to halfway off as my legs moved at crazy angles, as I writhed on my side, as I... did exactly what you know I was doing. Because I was. I was doing it while on the phone with my best friend.
"It's okay," I told her one more time, almost telling myself instead of her. "Just... just l-let it go! I'm right here, I'm right here with you!"
"I'm sorry, Laynie! I... hahah, I'm sorry I dragged you into this! You're so good to me!"
"You're so good..." I stopped there. Poor timing, but Amy didn't notice.
"Laynie! Laynie, I... I'm coming! This is it, this is it!"
At that point I abandoned all pretense – well, in my actions, not my words. Going full-tilt now, I rolled onto my back and arched, stretching out the crotch of my Mudds so badly they might look like I let a dude wear them around for a while. "Yeah, Amy! Do it, Amy! Just let it take you, don't fight back, just... just accept!"
"Laynie!" she was screaming. She was screaming my name. That's not right. That's so beyond evil that it should send both of us to Hell, but... but so was what I was doing. Why start playing the blame game now? "Laynie! LaaayNIE!"
Speaking of fingers, I knew I was going to finish when she finished. I was counting on it, because if she finished first and I was still going... she'd catch me in the act. Since by then I was way past the Point Of No Return, I sped up, I pushed, I coaxed, I abused. "Go! Go, you're amazing, you can do it! Do it for me!"
And it goes on from there.
Skipping past the obvious caveman sounds we reenacted, we both fell down tired. Lots of heavy breathing, lots of nothing else. When I finally pulled my hand out of my jeans and looked at it, I cried a lot harder than I had in a long, long time... but I didn't make a sound. Silent. Ninja-crying.
I really did it; we did that. While my boombox was blaring with the sounds of Dream Theater, I committed a cardinal sin in the book of friendship; I tainted us by getting off on what she was doing. I touched myself while my friend was touching herself. What kind of horrible person was I turning into?
"Oh God," she finally panted, a slight laugh to her voice. "That... that was so goood... that was EPIC."
"Yeah," I managed to get out in a way that sounded like I was laughing too, even though I wasn't. Not laughing, not laughing at all.
"Thank you so much," she told me. "Laynie... oh wow, thank you, I really needed that."
She was quiet for a moment, then let out a tiny giggle. "I... okay, I deserve that. I didn't mean to call out your name at the end like you were doing it to me, I just got carried away. That's... not a big deal, is it?"
"It might be," I told her honestly. I wasn't ready to reveal what I had done. NO WAY. I'm not now, nor will I ever be ready for that. "But I get it, you... weren't really in control. I remember what it was like."
"Wow, I'm so glad I learned how to do this! It's gonna be so much fun!" Then she gulped and I heard this worry creep into her tone again. "And I got this now, I know what I'm doing – well, enough to take over from here. I won't be sobbing into your face anymore."
"Good. That's... that's good, Ames."
"Laynie, are you okay? You're... you're not really freaked that I said your name, are you?"
"No," I told her, still honestly. That was the least of my worries.
"Well... alright, if you're sure. I don't want things to be weird on Monday. But hey, it's cool if you wanna leave me alone until then. This was kind of atypical."
"Super atypical," I agreed. "Listen, I, um... I wanted to take a bath before I head to bed, so..."
"Right, gotcha. Take it easy. Hey..."
I waited. For a while. "What?"
"I..." Then she cleared her throat and said in a quieter voice, "I don't want you think... it wasn't your voice getting me off, okay? Or talking to you. It just... made it easier to have a friend with me. Made me feel safer, like I told you before. That's all it was, so... so don't wig on me. I'm not girl-crushing on you, I promise."
Now here I am in the bathtub. The corner of the journal is dripping wet because I'm shaking all over and I dropped it into the water. I'm a complete basket case. I'm going nuts. I infiltrated Pandora's Box while listening to my best friend ride her rubber. I'm a slut. Worse – I'm a pervert. I'm a disgusting pervert. I hate this. I hate what I did, I hate Amy for making it happen, I hate my brother for dying and throwing me and my whole family into a downward spiral, I hate my parents for not being ready for it, and... and I don't know. I hate myself most of all, but I'm not above sharing the wealth.
Why couldn't it have been me in the truck? Why couldn't I have been spared all this pain? Why did I have to end up warped and jaded and crazy and worldly-wise just enough to make me get my rocks off because I was listening to Amy?
ANSWER ME, GOD. I'M TALKING TO YOU OUT THERE. TELL ME WHY. WHY ME. NOW. SPEAK TO ME THROUGH ANYTHING. SOME SIGN. WHY?
Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit shit SHIT.
Now the water's cold and I can't even force myself to warm it up. Shit.
AUTHORESS'S NOTE: Okay, I confess: I'm the Christian Devil. Sorry. Also, I apologise to anyone who was suddenly flooded with "chapter updates"; I was trying to clear out Doc Manager and accidentally started deleting the actual chapters of this story. Haven't had my chai yet. Don't worry, all fixed! Ugh...
13th: Heehee, FFn edited your review to delete "vagina"... and also "hard on". Because you said "crushing hard on her". Quite good.
NEXT: Angst aplenty. After that, we'll be back to the fun stuff.