SUBJECT LINE:
{ASSM}"Alphabet Game: Xenophile"{Dancer}(f-solo)


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Admonition: This story contains explicit descriptions of 
people engaging in careless and unprotected sexual 
activity.  PLEASE do not emulate these people since they 
are fictional characters existing in a fantasy world where 
sexually transmitted disease and unwanted pregnancy don't 
happen.  You don't live in such a world, so "let's be 
careful out there."

Oh, and minors shouldn't be reading this stuff - if you 
can't place the quote I just made in the last paragraph, 
you probably aren't old enough to be flipping through ASS*. 
Bugger off and watch 'TV Land' instead, so you can bone up 
for little age-testing quizzes like this! :)


Copyright notice: Dancer, the author of this smutty little 
opus, holds all rights of reproduction.  Private copies for 
personal perusal and archives for NON-commercial 
distribution are permitted by her.


Plea for attention: The only reward ASS* authors can expect 
is the joy of sharing their creation with the rest of 
humanity.  But wait - how does that author KNOW if people 
are reading and enjoying his story?  Yep; if you like a 
story posted to alt.sex.stories.*, the fair thing to do is 
email the author and tell them so.  I promise that it'll 
make YOU feel good to send them kudos, after all, Mark 
Twain said, "The best way to cheer yourself up is to try to 
cheer someone else up."  As always you may contact me (and 
my wife Dancer) through my 'legacy' Deja News email 
account:             <empath69@my-deja.com>  
(Wow, I'm not just an author, now I'm an AGENT, too!  ;)


Editor's Note: Here it is - part twenty-four of Dancer's 
'Alphabet Game'; twenty-six hot, little vignettes she 
whipped out in something like a week or two - Lord Malinov 
eat your heart out with that semi-annual 'story-a-day' run 
I remember *way* back in the 20th century! ;) (Is he still 
around?)

And relax - these stories are all self-contained - you 
don't HAVE to read them in order, or read any of the ones 
that might squick you...

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The Alphabet Game (24/26)
Xenophile 
Copyright Dancer 2001

(* - A person who has admiration or attraction to strangers 
or foreigners or anything foreign or strange)


"Hello?"

"Yes, could I please speak with Daniel?"

"Ooo, I love your accent. Where are you from?"

"England at the moment."

"London?"

"Er, no. I'm in my home in Dover. Could I speak with Daniel 
now?"

"I think I just creamed my jeans."

"Pardon?"

"I had an orgasm from your voice...Are you there? Hello?"

"Yes, I'm still here. I'm having a bit of a snag on what 
you said."

"Oops, I did it again!"

"Am I correct in saying that you've had an orgasm because 
of my accent?"

"Two, no, three orgasms. I really get off on foreign voices 
and accents."

"Xenophile."

"What?"

"I said you're a xenophile. That's someone who likes 
strange things."

"Like accents, right?"

"Very much so."

"Do you want to know what I'm doing right now?"

"Not really but I'm sure you'll tell me anyway."

"I'm touching myself. I had to jump out of the shower to 
answer the phone and I'm completely naked. My nipples are 
all hard and pointy, like little diamonds and my pussy's 
soaked with cum."

"Oh Lord!"

"Mmm, I've got my right hand down there and I'm fucking 
myself with a couple of fingers. Schlup, schlup."

"What was that last bit?"

"Oh, sorry. Just sucking the cum off my hand. It's all 
thick and gooey and smells like peanut butter. I'd rather 
be sucking your cock instead of my fingers. Would you enjoy 
that?"

"Is there a man alive who wouldn't?"

"Maybe the Pope."

"Maybe. What are you doing now?"

"I'm on the floor with my legs in the air and I'm diddling 
my clit. That always gets me off and I want you to hear me 
cum over the phone. I wish you were able to see me."

"Hello? Are you all right?"

"Hoo, hoo, yeah...oh! Talk to me! I'm nearly there!"

"About what?"

"ANYTHING, JUST TALK!"

"Uh-er, well, Prince William went off on his three month 
visit to Africa. Um, Newcastle is leading Manchester one-
naught."

"MMMM! NNGGHHH! NNGGHHH! AAAHH! OH-OH-OH-OH-YEEEESSSSSS! 
YEESSSS! YYYEESSSS!"

"Miss? Miss?"

"Whoo-whee, that was incredible! Thanks a bunch!"

"A pleasure to assist you."

"What's your name?"

"Fred Osdale."

"Mine's Cameron Hurley."

"Well, Cameron, could I talk to Daniel now?"

"Daniel? Daniel who?"

"Daniel Osdale, my son."

"Uh-oh."

"Uh-oh? What do you mean 'uh-oh'?"

"Hee-hee-hee, I don't know any Daniel Osdales. I think you 
dialed the wrong number."

"Then that would definitely be an uh-oh."

"Uh-huh."

"Er, Cameron?"

"Yes?"

"Would you care if I knocked you up again sometime?"

"WHAT?!"

"No, not the way Americans think. 'Knock up' means to 
exhaust or pay a call on a person."

"Oh! Sure, Fred. Anytime. Do you want my number?"

"Apparently, I already have it."

"Okay. 'Bye then."

"Goodbye."


End part 24

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Editor's Postscript: Cute idea, huh?  Only dialog - Dancer 
had some descriptive stuff, but it didn't want to work, so 
she just turned it into a 'transcript'.  