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Just April, Just Nineteen, Just a Phone Call Away

I think the best thing to do is to be honest: I'm just me. Just a teenage girl. Just a college student. I'm Just April. And I'm just a phone call away.

College tuition is expensive these days, and with the economy being what it is, I've been struggling to come up with the rent money. And something that happened the other day gave me an idea.

I was sitting in a coffee shop, chatting with a girlfriend, when I felt a firm pressure on my shoulder. When I looked up, a solidly-built older man was standing above me. He looked down at me, and though I normally would have just shaken his hand away, something in his eyes made me kind of freeze up. He smiled, slightly. I tingled a little.

He said, "I've been listening to your conversation."

My friend curled her lip in disgust, but I just stammered, "Oh?"

"Yes," he said. "I have."

Suddenly, I realized that the seam of my jeans was rubbing against my clit. I was wet. Really wet. I blushed.

He squeezed my shoulder. My body felt on fire where he was touching me. I quivered. He leaned down, so that his lips almost brushed my ear. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the fresh scent of my body and my hair, and whispered,

"You have a very erotic voice..."

He straightened up and disappeared, but it left me electrifyingly turned on and it left me thinking. I've always been very sensitive to sound. The sound of a voice is one of the most erotic things there is—a sharp intake of breath...a moan...the sound of something (fingers, vibrator, a hard cock) sliding into the wetness of my tight young pussy...mmmm...

So call me. I'll put my erotic voice and very naughty imagination to work for you.