Archive-name: Working/radioint.txt

Archive-author: Electronic Erotica

Archive-title: Radio Intern





For five years, from April of 1979 until this last April, I worked part- time 

at this funky non-commercial radio station in New York. Non-commercial, by the 

way, means you do it for love and not for money. I was part of the public 

affairs department and I produced programs on nuclear weapons, South Africa, 

utilities, alternate energy, housing, all sorts of things. 

 

During the time I worked at this station  I occasionally supervised two 

interns, Caroline and Eve, who worked on a couple of programs, turned out to 

be very nice folks, but who did not realize that producing a regular radio 

program takes a shitload of work. Eight to ten hours sometimes for one hour of 

finished product, and that does not count travelling to and from wherever the 

person you're interviewing is located. So after some much needed help, 

Caroline and Eve sort  of faded off into other things. I once met Caroline 

briefly in Penn Station and said hello, but I never saw Eve again until 

yesterday. 

 

When they were working with me, I was at least somewhat attracted to both of 

them. I was in a long running relationship which was sometimes monogamous (on 

both our parts) and sometimes not. At that time, I was in a monogamous mood so 

I would not allow myself to interpret the interns' smiles and warmth as 

anything other than friendliness. I also had a certain misgiving about getting 

involved with station interns. Some of the long time "famous" personalities at 

the station were often surrounded (figuratively) with women and they would 

take advantage of the psychological situation by getting laid. Now it's not 

that these events were involuntary, by any means, its just that I want people 

to like me or be attracted to me for who I am and not for whatever image they 

may have of me. It's also not as if this occasional groupie phenomenon was 

something of the level of teenyboppers standing on line to get at Mick Jagger. 

Although there were real fans of many of the station's live radio producers, 

this station only has maybe 30,000 or so regular listeners, so there are 

limits to the social importance of this phenomenon. And in the case of 

Caroline and Eve, it certainly was not a case of my dealing with teenagers. 

Both were very mature, very bright women in their mid twenties while I was in 

my late twenties at that time. 

 

All of this is just introduction. The real start of this story begins with the 

fact that our little station gets 80% of its money from fundraisers and 

listener subscriptions. Every December we hold our annual Holiday Crafts Fair, 

which features lots of really high class craftspeople from the Northeast and 

Midwest. I made one of my vists to the Fair last night. I still get in free as 

a "retirement benefit" from the station. 

 

Weekday evenings are much easier than Saturday and Sunday afternoons, which 

are totally packed. I was walking through the main hall when my eye caught 

something from a distance. I wasn't sure but it looked a lot like the fedora 

hat that Eve always used to wear and the head and form underneath the hat 

likewise looked familiar. I eased my way through the crowd to get closer, and 

yes, it was Eve. I came up to her side and caught her eye. 

 

"Hey, it's good to see you." 

 

She looked happy but a bit sheepish. I suspected she felt a bit guilty about 

leaving the intern position two and one-half years ago. 

 

"You know, I never harbored expectations about people who come in as interns. 

No one really seems to realize that producing radio is much more time 

consuming than whatever preconceptions you arrive with." 

 

We walked into the snack bar that was adjacent to the main exhibition hall, 

sat down and had a bite. We talked for over half an hour and my original im- 

pression of her was only being reinforced. Degree in biology (like me), worked 

in a couple of medical labs, travelled around, worked as a telephone company 

repair technician (very impressive to me, not having any idea how the phones 

work) and now she was still in the same job she'd been in when she interned, 

the enforcement division of NYC's environmental protection agency. On one 

level this was all a friendly conversation. On another, that of eye and body 

laguage, it was flirtation. She maintained eye contact with me almost 

constant- ly, something I find very attractive. She was interested in my life 

in the last couple of years, why I'd left the station, what sort of stuff I'd 

been writing about transmission lines, nuclear waste and depressing stuff like 

that. 

 

She asked if I was in a hurry or would I like to share a bottle of champagne 

with her back at her place in Brooklyn. People in NYC may wear jeans and 

sneakers but a lot of us seem to like expensive wine. 

 

The subway ride from the upper west side of manhattan to the Park Slope 

section of Brooklyn takes about 45 minutes. You can't talk much during most of 

the ride because subway brakes are too noisy. Lots of people in New York stick 

their fingers in their ears while a subway is screeching because of the 

decibel level. It actually hurts at times. 

 

Exiting the relatively warm subway into the 25 degree cold on December 22 at 

7Pm was a bit of a shock. It's been raining and the combined effect of cold 

rain and cold air meant for a less than leisurely walk to her house. Even 

today I still am a bit shy with women, especially initially, so when I reached 

out and touched and then held her hand as we walked, I felt much better and 

warmer when she smiled broadly. 

 

Apartments in New York are generally heated by steam, which is nice but as a 

rule they are usually too cold or downright hot, with little in between. Hers 

was the latter and despite the fact that it was just below freezing outside, 

we were greeted at the front door by Eve's roomate, Helen, who was wearing a 

T-shirt. Helen had heard of me thru Eve and was very friendly, asking about 

her favorite talk show hosts at the station, some of whom I told her I did not 

know beyond saying 'hello' in the hallways. 

 

The champagne was nice, bubbles tickling our throats and noses and sliding 

right up into our heads. Helen went off to her room to get dressed to go out. 

She began taking off her shirt just before she got to her room and the flash 

of firm back muscles and breast I got before she disappeared gave me a bit of 

a rush. 

 

We went into Eve's room, sitting on the floor over a backgammon board. I play 

only once every so often so I usually have to relearn a bit each time. Eve, on 

the other hand, played like a grand master, as a Charlie Parker album 

played in the background. 

 

After an hour or so of play I was reaching for the dice, looking down at the 

board when Eve's hand came forward and stopped me. I looked up at her, she 

looked at me, took my hand and kissed my on the palm. I leaned over, pulled 

her slightly closer and kissed her, one hand moving onto her shoulder and 

rubbing her there. Her hand went behind my head, ran through my hair and then 

to my neck, finally fingers brushing me behind the ears. Her lips were very 

full strong and warm. Wonderfully responsive, as kissing should be: both 

loving and erotic. 

 

We paused, she hesitated and then said, "Are you going to freak out if I tell 

you that I've wanted to fuck you for the last two years?" 

 

I smiled , she did likewise and then motioned with her head in the direction 

of her bed. 

 

We undressed slowly, stopping to kiss again, feeling a bit uncomfortable about 

removing our attention from each other to deal with something as mundane as 

taking off our clothes. We undressed ourselves and each other. We lay on the 

bed in the warm apartment, the radiator hissing in the background, the Charlie 

Parker tape still supplying a soundtrack. We lay on our sides, facing each 

other and separated by only three or four inches. One set of hands near the 

bed were held, fingers entwined, the other pair stroked each other's back and 

sides, slowly, learning new bodies and their uniqueness. 

 

My free hand slid down her stomach and began very gently brushing her pubic 

hair, first above her vagina and then lower, but still out side. The backs of 

my fingers slowly moved through the silky fur. She parted her legs by sliding 

her upper leg over mine. Her hand moved down and fingers gently encirled by 

cock, which was beginning to harden in a serious way. For fifteen minutes we 

lay there, her fingers holding my cock while her thumb slowly rubbed the 

sensitive part below the underside of the tip. The backs of my fingers to 

lightly brush the outside of her vagina, feeling her start to moisten. We 

maintained almost constant eye contact. 

 

As I felt wetness I let my middle finger protrude between her lips. Not 

actualy inside, but between the edges of her lips, up to the edge of her clit. 

 

She moved closer, and we began to kiss. Our mouths and tongues were more 

insistant now, passionate rather than just friendly, reflecting what was 

occurring below. Entwined fingers held each other tight as did tongues. 

 

I slipped my middle finger inside and as soon as I did so her grip on my cock 

tightened noticably in response. I stiffened and so did she. I slid the finger 

in as far as it could go, sliding it slowly up and down the walls of her cunt, 

turning the finger, moving it up to reach her clit. Wet finger against wet 

clitoris. 

 

I'm not sure if I pulled her over on top of me or whether she rolled over on 

top, but that's how we ended up. She planted her slit right on top of my now 

hard dick and lay with her weight on top of me kissing deeply and moving 

against me. Her arms crooked under my shoulders and mine curled around her 

back. I wasn't inside her but it was a missionary position in reverse. 

 

Eve lifted herself off me ,straddling my body with one leg on each side. She 

took my cock in her hand but did not impale herself. She held it and began to 

slide her wet vagina up and down its length. She repositioned herself so that 

my cock was lying flat against my stomach and her slit was right on top of it, 

sliding up and down. I never realized how truly sensitive a cock is until I 

realized how conscious I was of the lips of her vagina draped over my cock, 

her inner lips pressing on the top. I looked up at her and saw that she was 

thoroughly enjoying this, obviously getting some very effective clitoral 

rushes from having the head and shaft of my cock rubbing her almost 

constantly. 

 

She bit her lip , her eyes half closed and was taken with what she was doing 

to both of us. It was a very special feeling and I wondered whether I was 

going to lose control and spurt all over my stomach. 

 

Finally she raised herself up a bit, held my cock and placed the tip just 

where she began. She looked down at me, stared into my eyes with a look only 

people in this condition have, and, very, very, very slowly impaled herself. 

 

I always find this sensation exquisate and this time it was even more so. I 

felt that I could detect and warmth and contour of every fold inside her 

vagina. When she reached bottom she paused and I felt consumed, firmly and 

warmly held. 

 

She began to move, slowly at first. Sometimes it was up and down drawing me in 

and almost letting me slip out, then she rotated her hips for a while or 

leaned forward a bit to wantonly rub her clit against my pubic bone. We went 

on like this for a long time, slowly moving together. 

 

Years ago I took mescaline and one of the interesting effects was the fact 

that in the initial stages my entire body felt the way my cock does when it's 

hard and hot. I was lying on my bed and concentrated on my arms, my legs, my 

torso, my neck and head. My entire body felt like a hard penis onits way to 

orgasm. 

 

Eve was placing me in the same state without drugs. 

 

I lay there moving up aagainst her, drinking in the feeling and watching her 

She was very high, now, breathing heavily, her hands on my chest supporting 

her self, arms beginning to shiver slightly from the strain and the passion. 

The muscles in her stomach were flexed, her ass was beginning to quiver and 

her body in the candlelight was flushed pink. 

 

I had been running my hands over her back and sides and rubbing her ass. Now I 

reached up to cup her breasts, her nipples already very hard. I moistened my 

fingers and held them against the sides of her nipples, gently rubbing, and 

then lightly held the palms of my hands against them as they brushed as she 

moved up and down. 

 

She began to move faster and whispered to me to keep it up. I could feel 

myself building in my balls. She was giving herself extra impact on her 

downstrokes and her breathing was labored. She began whispering my name over 

and over again and her fingers on my chest dug themselves in slightly, a bit 

of pain mixing with the pleasure. I felt her muscles grab my cock tightly, her 

back stiffened and she came, head shaking side to side. She tried to catch a 

scream but didn't succeed. 

 

I didn't even try. Two more strokes in her suddenly tightened cunt and I 

followed her over the edge, tumbling down, just missing unconsciousness. When 

she was finished she slumped on top of me kissing, licking whispering promises 

of love and satisfaction. I kissed back and held her tight. 

 

When we finally came down, lying there in the glow of lovemaking and the 

hissing radiator, we looked out the window into the night. It had begun 

snowing. Large beautiful flakes drifting slowly down to earth amidst the haze 

of the streetlights. A wonder that can make even the dirty, deadly streets of 

New York, new and beautiful. The blood and grime covered by the white cold 

shining snow. Peace. 



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