Call Me (17 page)

“Breathless Whispers, let me leave you breathless,” I say to the caller, who’s listed role-play as his preference for tonight. These calls are quickly becoming my favourites. I’ve been working here for almost two months now and I’m discovering a few things about my self-proclaimed vanilla-style preferences. I’m anything but.

It took
this
, taking on Chanel’s persona, to discover that I, too, have wild fantasies and desires. Someday, maybe I’ll find my own fantasy maker to push and test my limits. The desire to explore role-play to its fullest weighs on my mind with each new call, and I love getting to pretend I’m someone else, pushing my own boundaries and comfort, picturing the words I whisper as they play out for each caller, getting to once again channel my inner movie buff. I pretend I’m an actress starring in the role of a lifetime, in a film written and directed by me; my goal is to chase the Oscar. And I have to admit, I have given some pretty wicked performances.

“I want to listen to you make my wife come. Hard,” comes a commanding voice, booming through the line. “I want her to know that feeling. That sensation…I want to hear her breathe and feel her get wet as you touch her.”

Well, fuck me.
And suddenly I’m completely flailing, my voice lodged in my throat. How can you get someone off if you can’t find your voice? It’s not that I’m against a little girl on girl action, I’m just the least experienced person on the planet at how the mechanics of it all work. Sure, I’ve wondered, fantasized a little, if I’m being honest. But these are the thoughts, images, and ideas I keep on lock down in the recesses of my mind.

And now this man wants me to bring them to the stage, to take the lead role in a script I’ve never seen or experienced. Shaking off my insecurities, I breathlessly agree.

“I’d love to touch your gorgeous wife. I love nothing more than bringing a sexy woman to the edge then slowly giving her the last subtle push she needs to fall.”

I cringe, hoping I didn’t oversell something I have no clue about.

“Fuck. You’re going to be perfect for Rachael. What do you think, sugar?” he asks, and I’m about to reply when I hear a woman’s voice come over the line:

“I can’t wait, sir. Thank you for this Happy Anniversary, honey.”

“Sir”?

“Take off Rachael’s clothes…sir,” I say. “I want to see her beautiful body on display for us.”

“Yes, my wife is breathtaking. After ten years, she’s only gotten sexier,” he says, and my stomach dips at the obvious feelings he has for his wife.

“That’s perfect, our compliments are sure to make Rachael all the more excited for my touch. Are you naked, Rachael? Are you ready for me?

“God. Yes.”

“Close your eyes, honey. I’m standing right in front of you, naked, my hard nipples brushing up against yours, my fingers lightly touching every one of your curves. I can see your breathing getting faster. You’ve got an amazing body, responsive as fuck to me—”

A deep groan resonates through the line, cutting me off; I think “sir” is getting excited.

“Are you with us, sir? Can you stroke your hard cock while I continue to touch your beautiful wife?”

“Shit, yeah, I can. She looks so fucking hot, her body trembling from your voice, excited under my gaze. I’m so goddamned hard.”

Holy shit, I’m staring to feel a little rush of excitement myself. To be honest, it doesn’t happen a lot, but Destiny was right, it totally happens no matter how much you’d like to think otherwise. With scenes like this, how could it not?
Maybe I should film myself one time? My GoPro App would be perfect.

“Go lie on the bed now, pet. I want to see your pussy. I need to feel your smooth skin as my fingers dance along your sweet lips, bringing you nothing but pleasure.”

“Yes, shit, please do. I’m here. I’m lying down. Please touch me.”

“Sir, I’d like your help. Since it’s a special night for both of you, let’s all play.”

“God, I’d fucking like that. You should see her; she’s fucking perfect, lying, waiting, goosebumps rising all over her sexy body, her nipples tight with excitement…”

“Perfect. Slowly spread your legs, Rachael. Nice and slow. Tease us. Can you take your fingers and run them along your pretty pink pussy lips?”

“Yes. Yes…”

“Tell me, honey. Are you wet for me?”

“So wet. Fuck, I need more.”

“Shhh, no more talking, close your eyes and let my voice guide you. Sir, please act as my hands now. I’ll tell you the movements, be my touch.”

“Oh shit, Rachael, you’re fucking drenched, honey. I’m not going to last.”

“Sir, I’d like you to move my hand along Rachael’s wet lips, apply the subtle pressure of a lover’s kiss after a few days away. Can you feel my fingers caressing you gently?”

“I feel so much. It’s so much.”

“Mmmm, I can feel you getting wetter with every stroke. Slip my finger inside now, slowly stretch up, now add another and make the ‘come hither’ movement.”

“Jesus Christ, Billy, I’m gonna fucking come…!”

Holy fuck!
I shake my head in disbelief that I actually pulled that off. Grabbing my phone, I decide to share my call with Brent. Exposé or not, he will totally appreciate my mad skills on this one.

Ellie

N
ote to self,
the ten-to-two shifts are not the homework-friendly shifts at all. I’ve only got half an hour left to go, and I notice I’ve answered twelve calls. Standing from the desk chair intent on moving my tired self to the comfy chaise, the hope of resting my eyes for a moment disappears mid-step at the sound of the beep. Seeing who it is, however, makes me smile.
Jake
.

He called back.

“Hi, Chanel, it’s Jake.”

“Hi, Jake. I’m excited you called again. I was hoping you would.”

“Me too, lovely. Me too. Sorry it took me a few days; work’s been a bit crazy. I just started a new job and moved to the city, so things have been nuts.”

“I bet. Glad you’re calling now, though,” I say in a shy voice.

“I was hoping you could help me out tonight. I’ve got a crazy bet going on with a buddy. He says all women do this, and I disagree. I need to know the answer to a personal question. I figured you could probably help me out.”

“I’d like to give you a hand, Jake, anytime,” I tell him in a low breathy voice, hoping he gets my drift.

“That’s good, ’cause this is sort of a personal question.”

“Mm-hmm. That’s okay. You can ask me anything, always.”

“Okay. Have you ever watched yourself masturbate? Sat front and centre and watched?” he asks, his voice taking on a huskier sound, and it makes my skin tingle to life. I like the sound. A lot.

“No. I mean, of course I masturbate, but never where I can see what I’m doing to myself.”

“Jesus. You’re making me rock hard hearing that you get yourself off. Would you do it for me? With me?”

“You want me to get myself off for you, Jake? Is that what you want?”

“No, Chanel. I want you to masturbate while watching yourself and I want you to describe it for me while I jerk myself off.”

I pause for a minute, wondering if I can do this. I’m feeling adventurous and a little turned on still from the call with Sir and Rachael. Getting up, I push the chaise closer to the wall where a large full-length mirror hangs, ready to give the solo performance of my life. Once again, my sexual naïvety shines through as I suddenly realize the mirror’s potential as a perfect visual aid for a situation like this one.
The Conrads must have an amazing sex life.

“You there? I didn’t scare you off, did I?”

“Of course not. I’m just getting ready.”

“Thank fuck. I can’t wait to hear everything.”

“Are you getting ready too? I want you ready to touch yourself. It will make it so much better,” I say, grabbing my vibrator from my kit and placing a towel on the chaise just in case I end up needing to use lube for effect.
Wouldn’t want to make a mess.

“I’m beyond ready. Are you naked?”

“Almost. I’m just stepping out of my lacy pink panties.” It wasn’t quite the truth. I was wearing black yoga pants, not quite ready to give Jake a full-on live performance despite how turned on I might be getting. I was nervous as hell. Thankfully, something about this caller calmed and soothed me and I knew I could do this.

“You’ve got me all excited, beautiful. I’m happy you’re gonna do this for me.”

“With you, Jake. We’re going to help each other. It’s my first time. I might need a little coaching,” I say, dropping a subtle reference to the story I told him the first time he called.

“Christ. Tell me you’re ready.”

“I’m all set.” I turn the vibrator on low, so he can hear it’s true.

“Where are you?”

“Well, I’ve got this big chaise. I’m lying on that with my legs spread wide, half sitting up so I can see my reflection in my full-length mirror that’s mounted on the wall.”

“Tell me what your pussy looks like.” I hear a glass clink, assuming he’s putting a drink down.

“I’m bare. My skin looks soft, a pretty shade of light pink. Girlie pink, and I feel even better. I feel like velvet. A hint of my excitement is permeating the air now as I think about touching myself for you,” I tell him, and hope that it sounds true.

“I bet you smell and look fucking incredible. How do you taste. Give me a little sample.”

“I’m running my index and middle finger slowly along my pussy lips, making myself wetter. My fingers are becoming slick from my touch.”

“Lick them. Fucking lick yourself off your fingers. Tell me how it tastes,” he grits out, and it’s sexy as hell. Out of nowhere, an image of Ace standing in his office—voice similar and him sexy-angry—flashes in my mind, and I let out a moan, wishing it has him I was doing this for. Courtney’s right, I do have it bad. Those green eyes zeroing in on me in class behind those dark-framed glasses, the way his lip pulls when he gives me that sexy smirk. A second later, I pull off my pants and panties deciding I need this. And I touch myself like I described then do what Jake’s asked next.

“Oh God. I’m sweet. I taste like passion fruit with a hint of honey, enough to leave a trail of sweet goodness on my tongue and lips,” I tell him slowly licking my fingers. I’ve never tasted myself before. Sure, I’ve had a boyfriend kiss me after going downtown but never of my own accord. But after all of tonight’s calls, now compounded with images of Ace, there’s no way I can’t do this for real.

“You’re sweet. I fucking knew your tight cunt would taste sweet. Shit.” I hear a slow moan escape on his end, which makes me moan as I start to move the vibrator over my clit.

“I’m going to rub myself with the vibrator. I’m so wet. I need the relief. This is making me so hot. It’s on my clit, Jake, and it feels so fucking good. I…can’t, oh God, it’s so good, you should see it.”

“Tell me. Fuck, I need to hear. Turn it up higher, lovely, tell me every move you make.” It comes out as a command and goosebumps rise on my arms with his tone.

“I’m sliding it along my folds, giving it some of my wetness. Making it easier to slip and slide around my pussy,” I tell him, doing exactly what I’ve described. “Oh God, it looks so sexy sliding in and over and between my lips. The purple tip is glistening, coated with my juices.”

“Jesus, that’s perfect. Tell me more. Fucking hell. My cock’s so hard. I’m circling my head, down along my hard shaft for you. Taking what I wish was your sweet juices and rubbing them with my pre-cum smoothing it all over the head, imagining it’s you.”

“Oh fuck, Jake. I’m turning it up. I need to run it along my clit, faster, harder,” I say, cranking it up.

“Fuck, yeah, do it.”

“Shit. It feels too good. I’m spreading my legs wider, I’ve got my heels digging into the base of my thighs and ass. I’m running the smooth head of it up and along my folds, then up to my clit, alternating the speed and pressure before pausing to let the vibrations tease me. I’m so wet it’s hard to keep it in one place, my greedy cunt wants it to slip inside and stay there. Shit, yes. It feels so goddamned amazing.”

“Fuck, Chanel, I want to slip inside. I want to feel you clamping around my hard cock. Letting you feel every ridge and vein while I take you fucking hard and fast.” Images of what I imagine Ace’s hard cock would look like sliding into me pop into my mind. I envision how perfectly his thick, smooth hardness would feel sliding in and out of my wetness as he hovered above, fucking me, so hard and so fast, the fantasy so vivid I’m driving myself crazy.

“Oh my God. Yes, Jake, I want it. Give it to me. Oh, it’s slipping inside me. Fuck, Jake, it feels so good. Pulling it in and out, tormenting myself. My pussy’s contracting with each push and pull. Fuck, I’m close. Tell me you’re close too, Jake. God, I can’t hold off. I’ve slipped it between my lips, the rounded edge now pulsating against my clit, oh shit, ohh fuck!” I scream as I continue to hold the vibrator against my pulsing centre, then letting it glide into my wetness, only prolonging my orgasm as wave after wave of pleasure washes over me.

“Motherfucker, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna fucking cum all over the place,” is all I hear as we both go off like explosives. “Jesus fuck, that was incredible. You’re amazing.”

“Thanks,” I whisper, embarrassment over what I’ve just allowed to happen sinking in. I just finished masturbating over the phone with a complete stranger.

If only I knew how to process how I feel about that.

Should I feel shame or liberation?

Is it okay to feel both?

Thankfully, Jake gives me a rough-voiced, “Talk soon,” before simply hanging up.

Deciding to take a cab home later that night, I vow to never allow myself to get carried away like that again.

Damn you, Ace Ryan, for getting in my head and in my panties. I blame
you.

Ace

I
sit in
my office trying to convince myself—or, rather, trying to pretend—that I’m not waiting.

When it’s exactly what I’m doing.

Waiting.

Again…envisioning how this meeting will go between us.

Waiting…