Overhearing.

Envy is, as every good Catholic knows, a sin, but when I hear two teenage girls who are plainly just starting out on their sexual lives, well, it really lights my fire. Especially if they are obviously trying to outdo one another in the ‘grown up’ language department! 

I was sitting at an ‘outside’ table in my newest acquisition. This coffee shop is in a mall, and, to be frank, is pretty dismal, both in decor, and what it offers. It is just about covering its expenses at the moment, but I am sure I can turn it into a profit-making enterprise. I just need - er - everything! Time, new menu, new decor, and to grit my teeth and run it at break even, or even as a loss to get the footfall up. I’m still scared of running at break even or loss, because customers do notice price increases, even ones measure in small amounts. 

So, I’m sitting outside on a table on my own, chewing the end of my pencil and making notes on how to start, where and when two teenage girls came and sat at the table diagonally opposite me. With my head looking at my notepad, I could see them both peripherally, and was close enough to hear most of what they said and lip-read the rest. To start off with, I pretty much ignored what they were saying, preferring instead to sketch out the new interior design I had in mind. (I want customers to be in my stores before they know they’re inside my stores. There are jewellers who work on this principal. One moment you’re looking at things in an outside window, the next you’re inside, standing on carpet and a sales assistant is asking what they can show you. That’s how I’ve remodelled all my stores and it works a treat! 

“So? Did you?” There was a world of excitement wrapped up in that little package of three words, and it grabbed my attention instantly. 

“Yes! No…well….kinda.” There was a pause while they had a sip of my coffee (which, at the moment here tastes like petrol.) 

“Feck, Jenna, sure, an’ ya can’t leave it there!” 

“Ok….so, we’re in my room an’ he’s snogging me feckin’ face off, and he’s got his hand up my top and on my tit. I’m rubbing his cock through his pants and, feck, Mary (another one?) sure an’ there’s no way I could get that in my twat.” I suppressed a giggle as a warm memory wrapped me up in a fleece blanket as I remembered how, at school, we would try to outdo one another with the dirty talk because we thought it made us sound sophisticated and worldly-wise. 

“So I unzipped him, and it just sprang out! My first cock! Oh, but Mary, it was huge. (Lucky girl) It must have been easily four or five inches (maybe not so lucky) but at least I could get my fingers all the way round it. (Definitely not so lucky - still, a first time cock is a first time cock.) “He shoved his hand in my panties and felt my twat. I was so feckin’ wet. He stuck a finger up me which hurt like a bitch, and I pulled at his cock and….”

“And what? Jeez….you’re a feckin tease!”

“An’ didn’t help blow his load all over my best school skirt? Feckin’ loads of it. Slimes, smelly stuff that it is. And it doesn’t come off just with hot water. You have to use proper washing powder.” (Ah…memories, memories!) And it smelled too….kinda sweet, but harsh too.” 

“So, you didn’t shag him then?”

“No. Not much point after he came so fast. He went soft and that was that.”

“But it wasn’t though, was it? What about you? You’d had your tits felt and your pussy (pussy…yuck!) fingered. You must have been climbing the walls! Plus you’d had a cock in your hand.” 

“Yeah…I admit my twat was soaked and so were my panties. And my clit felt like there were ants living in it. (Been there, sweetie, done that)”

“And?”

“And what do you mean, ‘and’?”

“And you didn’t do anything about it?”

“Sure ‘course I did. I had meself a good auld wank.” (Miss brain hissed “Watch” at me and I surreptitiously looked as Mary’s cheeks throat and neck coloured up. “Methinks Mary is bi…or could be” muttered Miss Brain. 

I looked at these two girls and a wave of envy covered me from head to toe. They are right at the start of what could be the most empowering, wonderful, gratifying road they will ever travel among life’s many highways. Every cell in my body wanted to cross that small distance between us and lecture them on the wonders to come, as long as they shed all their inhibitions, and shucked off all societal conventions and just listened to their own hearts. 

Partly through listening to their brief exchange, and partly through my own memories of that time of my life, I found myself needing my own release. I went to the staff restroom, and had an orgasm, not for me, but for both Mary and Jenna. Much like you can have a Mass said for someone, so sometimes (don’t laugh) I have orgasms with the intent of passing those amazingly good feelings on to someone. 

Orgasm by proxy? I don’t know. You think of a name for it, but that’s what I do sometimes. I fix the person I’m doing it for in my mind and just…cum. I don’t wank over them - they are most certainly not the subject of desire, fantasy or lust - I just cum…for them, like I want the goodness of the orgasm to somehow be for that person. 

Yes, I know. I’m weird, right?