Talk Dirty To Me

(c) 1998 Jungle Kitty

Star Trek and its characters are the property of Paramount. This not-for-profit piece of fan fiction is not intended to infringe on that ownership. The author's copyright applies only to the creative content and her original characters.


"AND NOW, THE SEXTACY CHANNEL IS PROUD TO PRESENT..."

"Okay, hi! I'm Joanie--"

"And I'm Moira. And we want you to--"

"TALK DIRTY TO ME!" the two buxom blondes screamed as they bounced happily on the sofa. One was very pretty but vacant, and the other--well, she looked only slightly more real than Pamela Anderson. As they settled back, the Pam-alike pulled the other's top down.

"You know, Joanie, your tits look great tonight!"

"Thanks, Moira. I've been meaning to tell you how wonderful yours look since you had `em done."

"Think so? I think the nipples are too high. When I look down at them, they look back." She opened her sheer blouse, revealing a pair of gigantic knockers. She clutched them and aimed them at the camera. "Whaddaya think?"

"Oh, no, they look great. They're you!" Joanie turned back to the camera and cocked her head sweetly. "Okay! Let's start tonight's show off right! I want all of you out there to be inspired to call us with some really great stories, so, c'mon, Moira--"

"CROTCH SHOT!" they shrieked and displayed the beavers seen round the world.

"Nice pussy, Joanie! Can we see that again?"

"Later, Moira. Let's take a call." If it weren't for the fact that she had her hand on Moira's twat, you'd swear she was a gradeschool teacher calming an unruly child. "Hello? Hello?"

"Hello?" said a male voice.

"Who's this?" barked Moira.

"Jim."

"Hi, Jim!" Joanie said. "Where are you from?"

"Iowa."

"Jim from Iowa!" Moira screeched. "We haven't heard from you in ages, baby! Joanie, remember Jim from Iowa?"

"Uh..." A puzzled frown creased Joanie's kewpie doll face.

Moira rolled her eyes in disgust. "Joanie--remember the Christmas show? The guy with the rotating sander?"

"Oh, yeah! Jim from Iowa! Hi, Jim!"

"Hi, Joanie."

"What do you think of Moira's new tits, Jim?" She reached over and pinched them.

"I like yours better," he said smoothly.

"Awwww, that's sweet. Show him your pussy, Joanie."

"TA-DAH!"

"So, Jim, let's get down to business here." Moira crossed her legs and lazily swung a stilettoed heel. "Are ya naked?"

"Not yet."

"What! Get naked. Right now," she ordered.

"Wait wait wait wait!" Joanie waved her hands. "Who--"

"Shut up, Joanie! I want him naked."

"No, let me talk. Jim, who's with you? Are you alone?"

"No, I'm not alone."

"So who's there?" Moira asked lasciviously. "Jim? Jim? Did we lose him? Jim, are you--"

"Yes, I'm here."

"So who else is there?" She waited a moment and then threw her hands up in exasperation. "Lemme talk to your girlfriend. Put her on. God! I hate when these guys call up and get all coy--"

"Greetings." An even baritone cut in, and both women were momentarily stunned into silence.

"A guy! It's a guy! Jim, you dog!" Moira howled.

"Whooo!" Joanie clapped her hands in delight. "Two guys! We haven't had two guys call in ages!"

"It's fudge-packer night!"

Moira jumped up and mooned the camera, as Joanie rushed to her and beat a celebratory drum roll on her ass.

"Ouch! Oh yes! Mmmmm. Okay, settle down. Sit, Joanie!"

Joanie demurely obeyed.

"Now let's talk to--what's your name? Are you there? You with Jim--what's your name?"

"Spo--"

He was suddenly interrupted by Jim whispering urgently, "Don't tell them your real name."

Both women frowned as they listened to the muffled conversation.

"You revealed your true name."

"There are at least a billion guys named Jim."

"Only 54,272 of them live in Iowa."

"GUYS! I'm gonna take another call!" Moira warned.

"Sport," Jim said quickly. "His name is Sport."

"Yeah, right. And my tits got this way naturally. Okay. *Sport*. How many times have you guys fucked today?"

"We have engaged in sexual intercourse on two occasions in the past twenty-four hours."

"Hey, Sport? You're not on trial here, okay? Loosen up. You naked?"

"Affirmative."

"Oh, goody!" Joanie cried. "But why isn't Jim naked?"

"Yeah, get him naked. Rip his clothes off!"

There was a sharp thud.

"Did he drop the phone?" Joanie asked. "Snort, did you drop the phone? I think he dropped the phone."

"Yeah! Go for it, guys!"

"Moira, you sound like a cheerleader."

"I *was* a cheerleader!" Moira leaped to her feet and pranced in front of Joanie, chanting, "Hey, hey, take it away! Get his clothing OFF! YAAAAAAAY!" She fell to the floor in a split, shaking her pompoms.

"Wow, Moira! I'm impressed!"

"I did that at my audition for `Bondage Gym Coach.'"

"You were great in that," Joanie said sincerely.

"Help me up, would ya?"

As Joanie hauled her co-hostess to her feet, she called, "Jim? Stark? Are you still there? Are you both naked?"

"Indeed."

Joanie giggled. "`Indeed.' That's so cute."

"Okay, let's cut the bullshit." Moira leaned into the camera and demanded, "Fuck him up the ass!"

"Moira! Just hold on. These are two nice, sensitive guys--"

"I don't care. Fuck him up the ass!"

"Now you be quiet," Joanie scolded. "Stack, I want you to describe Jim's dick."

"Yeah! How big is it?"

Another low conversation ensued. But this time the callers remembered to cover the phone.

"What's with these two?" Moira asked impatiently. "Sport! Are ya measuring it?"

"No. We are debating the merits of veracity."

"Huh?"

"Say it," Jim urged.

"Lying is illogical--"

"Say it. That's an order."

"Ooooo!" Joanie's eyes widened. "Why didn't you guys call last week when we did domination?"

"Don't answer that," Jim said. "Tell them how big it is."

"Very well. It is twelve inches long when fully erect."

"Joanie, have you ever noticed that, in three years of doing this show, we've never talked to a guy whose dick was smaller than ten inches?"

"We're a very high-quality show."

"I think they use it to dial the phone."

"So, Snore, is Jim's dick straight or curvy?"

"It is quite straight."

"Well, not quite as straight as we thought!" Moira cackled raucously at her own joke.

After a moment, Joanie caught on and giggled loudly, producing a sound like a frightened piccolo.

"Shut up, Joanie. God, that's annoying. Hey, Sport? Give the phone to Jim. Jim?"

"Yes, Moira?"

"Tell me about Sport's dick. Is it hard?"

"Yes, it is."

"Real hard? Like could he hammer nails with it?"

"They want to know if you could hammer nails with it."

"I...resist that suggestion."

"What else, Jim? Describe it for me, so I can picture it." Joanie smiled sweetly.

"It has two ridges."

"What?" She furrowed her brow. "How?"

"Ridges? Like the potato chips?" Moira asked.

"Ewww!" Joanie squealed.

"*No*," Jim said. "There's...well, another head--"

"ANOTHER HEAD?" Moira pointed two fingers at the camera and spread them in a V. "Like this? Ouch! That would hurt!"

"No, no--" Jim tried to cut her off, but it was too late. Moira was on a tear.

"Does he come out of both of them?" She jabbed her fingers toward the camera, making spurting noises. "Is it like a threesome with only the two of you? Lemme get this straight. Sport has two orgasms and Jim only has one--"

"Don't, Moira," Joanie begged. "Story problems give me a headache."

"No, no, no!" Jim interjected. "There's one on top of the other. Like...a head with a hat on. Don't look at me like that, Spo--rt."

Moira jumped up and began singing, "You can keep your hat on--"

"Does the hat come off?" Joanie asked.

Moira segued into "Detachable Penis."

"Shut up, Moira!" Joanie said irritably. "I want to hear about this--"

"You shut up. Okay, enough chit-chat! Fuck him up the ass!"

"Moira! At least let them lube. Boys, go ahead and lube."

"I wanna hear it! Sport, hold the phone to Jim's ass and grease him up!"

"They are requesting that I--" Spock began.

"I heard. Go ahead."

"Very well."

Splat! Squish! Squish! Sluuuuuurp!

The ladies squealed with delight at each slippery sound.

"Okay, guys! Guys? Ya still with us? Ya ready?"

"We are prepared."

"Stork, are you from England?" Joanie asked. "You talk fancy."

"I was born in the city of Shikahr."

"Where? What'd he say?"

"Chicago, I think."

"Score, are you from Chicago?"

"Who the fuck cares?" Moira shouted. "Sport, I want you to grab Jim and fuck him up the ass! With both your dicks or hats or whatever they are!"

"Understood."

The women leaned in and listened.

"Jim? Spurt?"

"Hey, fellas, ya gotta talk to us while ya do it. The show's called `Talk Dirty to Me.'"

"Uhhhh!"

"Who was that? Jim, was that you? Sport, are you fucking him?"

"Affirmative."

"Well, fuck him harder! I'm getting bored."

"They are requesting that I apply greater force."

"Well, do it, Spah--ort!"

"Yes, do it, Spot!"

"Give it to him with both barrels, baby!"

"Very well."

"Sport, tell him to say, `Fuck me harder!" Tell him to yell it! Tell him!"

"Jim, Moira wishes to hear you yell, `Fuck me harder!'"

"Fuck me--harder!"

"Hey, Jim," Joanie called. "Is that an order?"

"Yeah! Give him the phone, Sport! Jim! Jim, talk to me, baby!"

"Uh! Uh! What?"

"Say it again. Say `Fuck me harder!'"

"Fuck--me--HARDERRRRRR!"

"Is that an order, Jim? Tell Sport it's an order."

"That's an--order--mister!"

"Ooooo, nice one, Jim!" Joanie exulted.

"Yeah," Moira agreed. "I like that little embellishment."

"Do you think these guys are in the military?"

"Nah, they're just a couple of grease monkeys. Hey, guys? Guys, ya didn't come yet, did ya? Jim? Sport? Who's got the phone?"

"I do," Jim grunted.

"Is he all the way in, Jim?" Joanie inquired.

"Yesssss."

"Anything else goin' on, Jim?" Moira asked. "You jerkin' yourself off? Is he spankin' you? Slappin' your dick? Pinchin' your balls? C'mon, babe. Talk dirty to me."

"Ohhhh. Ohhhhhh!"

"I didn't say, `Moan at me.'"

"I like it when guys moan, don't you?" Joanie asked thoughtfully.

"I like it when a guy moans when he's eating me."

"Oh, yes! `Cause his lips vibrate and he goes `mmmm' and then I go `mmmmm'--"

"Have you ever had a guy do this on your clit?" Moira forced air through her lips, producing a noise like an overheated horse.

"No!"

"It's the best! You really go `Mmmmm!'"

"Mmmmm," Joanie nodded.

"MMMMMMMM!"

"Jim, was that you? Shit, I forgot all about them."

"Aahhh!"

"AAAAAHHH!"

"Guys, are you coming? I think they're coming. Are you coming? Guys? Jim? Sport? Anybody?"

"Oh god oh--god--*god*--"

"Stick, can you get the phone and talk to us?"

"Jim? Jim? Yoo hoo!"

"Ahhhhh....ahhhhhh..." Jim sighed. "Aaaaahhh..."

"Jim, did you come? I think he came. Shit. We missed it. Did you come?"

"Ohhh, yes."

"Well, shit!" Joanie pouted. "Did Shtup come?"

"Yes."

"Out of both his...things, whatevers?"

Jim began laughing.

"They want to know if you came out of both your `things.'"

"My ejaculate passed through the full length of my penis."

"Did you hear that, ladies?"

"Well, yes, but I still don't understand it," Joanie said petulantly.

"Hey, Jim, do you have a picture of Sport's cock?" Moira asked.

"As a matter of fact, I do."

"Fax it to us, okay? You'd like to see that, wouldn't you, Joanie?"

"Oh, yes! Jim, fax it to us, and we'll have our guest fax girl--Who's our fax girl this week?"

"Hey! Fax girl!" Moira hollered into the wings. "What's your name?"

"Suzanne!"

"Okay," Joanie said. "We'll have Suzanne bring out your fax and show it on the air and then all three of us will give you a nice big beaver shot. Pussies on parade. Okay, Jim?"

"It's a deal."

"Okay, thanks, guys. Oh, wait! Guys, are you still there?"

"Yes."

"I wanna talk to Skirt."

"Joanie wants to talk to you."

"Are you there, Slurp?"

"Yes."

"I want you to give Jim a big, wet kiss. I wanna hear it."

"Yeah, put a lot of tongue in it, baby."

Joanie and Moira grinned hugely as the juicy sounds of busy mouths filled the studio.

"Wow!" Moira exclaimed. "I think that guy has two tongues!"

"Hey, Spit! Spit, does your tongue have a hat?"

"Guys? Guys, you there? Talk dirty to me!"

The happy, sloppy noises were replaced by the cold hum of a dial tone.

"Awwwww! They hung up." Joanie turned to Moira. "I liked them. They were sweet."

"I hope he sends that fax."

"Me too."

"Do we have time for another call? What? Break first?"

"Okay, stay with us. We'll be right back `cause we want you to--"

"TALK DIRTY TO ME!"

[The End]



I'd love to hear from you! Please use my Guestbook to leave story feedback. Your guestbook entry can be public or private. You can also sign up to receive new stories by email.

If you navigated to this story from anywhere on my website, that window is probably still open right behind this one. If you navigated to this story from anywhere else, please visit Invisible Planets for more of my stories.