Spank: The Improbable Adventures of George Aloysius Brown (28 page)

Ring ring, ring ring.

Across town in the
London
borough of Islington the phone rang in Andrea Anderson
'
s rented flat. Sitting at her kitchen table calculating her quarterly VAT payment, silently cursing the government for leeching on small business, for the many disincentives it inflicts on hardworking entrepreneurs such as herself and for generally squandering her tax money, she was not immediately inclined to answer.

Ring ring.

"
Sod off, I
'
m busy.
"
she said out loud, thinking it
'
s probably some pimply-faced youth with his father
'
s credit card and a mouth full of pizza, sitting with his testosterone-fuelled mates grinning like morons at a speaker phone.

Andrea is 42, pretty fading to plain, with short bobbed hair and a figure that once had curves in the right places, now gone pear-shaped with neglect. Although it was almost noon she was still wearing her nightie and a fluffy white bathrobe embroidered with the logo of a hotel in Biaritz where she once spent a weekend with a guy she met as a wrong number.

Ring ring, ring ring.

"
Alright, alright, keep yer trousers on. What does this one want?
"
she wondered. He wants Russian, she does Russian, the siren call of
a Cossack beauty urging on her wild black stallion, her flaxen hair streaming in the wind, riding it hard, whipping its sweating flanks as she thunders across the Siberian steppes. He wants Asian, she can transport him to
Shanghai
, or
Mandalay
, whispering dirty things in his ear with a voice like the tinkling of prayer bells. And she does it all, or so her advertisements say:
"
Live one-on-one fantasy, older women, horny housewives, hard-core domination, big-boob babes, ebony sluts, kinky college co-eds, girls-next-door, hot Latinas, naughty Orientals.
"
She earns
£1
00,000 a year working part
-
time. And never on a Sunday. Andrea can give you the sound of cheeks blushing.
But her best work is her femme fatal, a seductive, husky, throaty southern belle, dark as molasses, sweet as honey dripping on ripe passion fruit, the sort of voice you
'
d pay to read you her shopping list.

Ring, ring.

Growing increasingly irritated in his flat in Pimlico, George can
'
t believe she is not picking up the phone.

"
Wouldn
'
t you know it,
"
he thought to himself morosely.
"
The bloody first time I ring
for phone sex
and there
'
s nobody home.
Just my luck. I
'
ll probably get call-forwarded to Mumbai.
"

He is just about to hang up when Andrea picks up the phone.

At this moment it
'
s not precisely clear which one of them is least inclined to initiate a sexual encounter. But Andrea, ever the professional, gets her act together.

"
Well, hellooooooo, daaarling.
"

"
Is this Sadie?
"

"
This is she. This is Sadie.
"

George is talking to the southern belle.

"
I
'
ve been expecting you, daaarling.
What kept you?
It
'
s not nice to keep a lady waiting.
"

George wanted to tell her in no uncertain terms that he was the one who had been kept bloody waiting. But on the other hand, she was on the line and there was work to be done.

"
I
'
m sorry,
"
he said.
"
I
'
ve been busy. I mean, I saw your ad. My name is George, I
'
m researching...
"

"
Researching, is it?
That
'
s different. We
'
re all researching, daaarling.
"

George made a mental note to ditch the line about research because it was invariably received with disdain. He wondered if he would be more successful if he said he was a census taker.

Andrea got down to business.

"
First, Sadie needs your credit card number. Ok, shoot. Er huh, er huh, got it thank you, was that a five or a nine, a five… good, got it… and the expiry date?
Exxxxxcellent.
"

Sadie can take several second to say excellent.

"
She paused theatrically, sighing the deep unimagined longings of unfulfilled desire.

"
It
'
s been so long for me, George. I need a man sooooo badly.
"

"
Gosh. I mean, that
'
s good isn
'
t it? I mean my calling.
I mean… as I said, what I
'
m
interested in...
"

"
We
'
ll come to your interests in a minute, George. I can
'
t imagine what they might be you wicked man. But for now, let me do the talking. Relax, take a deep breath. Lie back, close your eyes and listen. You seem nervous.
"

Her voice seems to emanate from some primeval deep, the soft grating of polished pebbles swept along by a wilderness river.

"
No, no, I
'
m fine. Really. No, honestly. It
'
s just that it
'
s a bit warm in here, that
'
s all.
"

"
Yes, darling, it
'
s hot, so hot. I need to cool off. I
'
m unbuttoning my blouse. Slipping it off my shoulders.
Now I am cupping my breasts in my hands. Mmmmmm. Feels so good, sooooo good. When I touch them like this it makes my nipples go hard.
"

"
Gosh.
"
George wiped his brow. He was sweating.
It must be the hot chocolate. Even the little fella was starting to sit up straight.

"
I love to get naked on hot summer afternoons, don
'
t you, George,
"
Sadie seemed to be breathing in his ear.
"
Sometimes I am watched by a man across the street. I tease him a little, then I draw the curtains. Being watched makes me hot, but this is my private time. Time that I can spend with you, George.
I am taking my slip off, pulling it slowly over my head. It feels silky smooth when I draw it across my nipples. I love that feeling. Would you like to feel my breasts, George?
"

"
Gosh, yes, may I? I should say so. Um are they …?
"

"
46 triple D.
"

"
Golly. That is large
!
"
He nodded appreciatively.
George used to be in weights and measures.

"
Mmmmmm. I just love the way your tongue licks my nipples, holding them in your lips.
First one, now the other. If I squeeze them together just a little like this, you can lick both at once. That drives me wild, George, wild. Oh oh oooooh.
"

Her voice drops an octave.

"
Now I
'
m lying on my back spreading my legs running my fingers up and down my body teasing my pubic hair, not going lower mind you, not yet. Soon, though.
I
'
m wearing my favorite black
Chantilly
lace panties. Will you help me pull them down, George? I like to slip them off slowly? That
'
s right.
Mmmm, they smell so good.
"

George took a deep breath. He remembered, his imagination working overtime.

But Andrea was watching the clock and it was time to move things along. She lowered her voice to whisper.

"
Would you like to lick me?
"

"
Golly, that
'
s quick, but it works for me,
"
George is thinking.
He used to be an inspector in fair trade practices. The little fella was now in full combat mode and George let him out for some air. This is not easy when you
'
re holding the phone to your ear.

Sadie is doing all the talking now. She is in full flight, Andrea Anderson, the Oscar-winning actress,
Belle in
A
Streetcar
named
Desire,
wild eyed Ophelia in the throes of madness, center stage at the Old Vic.

"
I'm so hot. You must be too. Let me help. Here, let's unbutton your shirt. That's better, let me unzip your fly.
"
Another pause, a longer one this time. She raises her voice.

"
Mmmmmmm, you're so big, so hard. I'm so ready for you, George. I want you to fuck me. Fuck me, doggy style. Fuck me hard!
"
George closed his eyes and imagined Pem in that position, arching her back showing him her shapely bottom then settling in for the ride.

For 30 seconds, maybe more, nothing was said above Sadie's cries of ecstasy. George relaxed his grip on the phone then he heard.

"
Was that good for you too?
"

"
Rather, I mean yes. Honestly, it was a pleasure. You're hot.
"
George believes in giving credit where it's due.

"
Thank you, daaaaarling.
"
She said still role playing, that exaggerated
Deep South
politeness.
"
I hope that was good for you, too. Was there anything else? You said you had a special interest.
"

"
Yes, I do.
"
George felt he could confide in her by now.
"
I have a special interest in erotic discipline. I'm trying to find out if women enjoy being spanked.
"

"
You mean like this, when you bend over me and make me touch my toes. Spank me, George. I've been such a baaaaad girl, George. Punish me.
"

Andrea Anderson switched on her sound system and George could hear the sound of one hand clapping coming clear across the city from Islington.
"
I deserve it. Spank me, please. Harder, please sir. Harder. Spank my sorry ass.
"
Andrea turned up the volume.

But by then for George it had all gone terribly wrong. Whatever was happening went from erotic to abusive. Sadie's fake howls were nightmarish. George held the phone away from his ear shouting,
"
Stop it! Stop it! That's not what I meant. You're ruining everything. I want tenderness not abuse. You don't understand.
"
He was distraught.

Sadie killed the sound.
"
Hold on, cowboy, I'm just giving you what most men want. What are you, some sort of wierdo?
"

George almost laughed with relief.
"
I guess I am. I'm weird. I want to cause pleasure not pain.
"
Sadie paused. This time it was for thought, not for theatrical effect.

The next voice George heard was Andrea's.

"
This is Andrea. I know, I sound different. Sadie is just one of the voices I do. I'm sorry, George, I didn't mean to upset you. I could rework the tape. I'll get it right next time, I promise. Did I tell you about my two-for-one rate?
"

George's breathing was back to normal. He felt sorry for Andrea, sorry for Sadie, sorry that he had yelled at her, sorry for himself.

"
I have your number.
"
It sounded silly to say it. Probably thousands of men had it.

"
Goodbye Sadie, I mean Andrea.
"

Pale, moon-scattered light

drowned by a churning sea

hides towering waves

you cannot see

in the blindness of the night

Who can say they have no fear

of the ocean
'
s random fury?