12. Causing a Commotion
CHAPTER 12
Causing a Commotion
DUSTY
“Y eah, I want to ride your cock so bad, sugar. Ooh, just like that. It feels so?—”
From the other side of the phone line comes the unmistakable sound of a man ejaculating. I roll my eyes. This call barely lasted five minutes and three of those were free.
“I, uh—I just . . .” says the man. His voice sounds like he’s experiencing the phenomenon after coming where the horny haze dissipates and finally gives way to embarrassment. He feels ashamed of himself and now is dreading the awkward post-coital conversation. I take a deep breath and shush into the line. “Don’t worry, sugar. You did so good. That was amazing.”
He clears his throat. “Right, you were great. Uh, thanks.”
“Can’t wait to hear from you again, darlin’,” I say in my Texan accent.
“’Kay. Bye.”
The phone disconnects and after hanging up the receiver, I drop my head forward into my hands. A heaviness weighs on my chest and I roll my shoulders, trying to lessen the discomfort. I wish I could be anywhere but here right now. I’m tired and my throat is dry, and after hearing the first twenty callers from the night come with embarrassing quickness, I start to wonder just how much longer I can do this.
I lean back in my chair, a few strands of hair falling in my face, and I blow them up toward the fluorescent lights of the drop ceiling.
What happened to me? How did everything go so very differently than how I dreamed it would when I was thirteen? I mean, it’s no mystery—I know how I ended up here. What I really mean is why did it have to happen to me this way? Did I do something wrong? Was I a terrible person in another life and so I need to be punished in this one?
“Cherry? Do you need a break?”
I glance up at my supervisor, Claudia, and shake my head. “No, no . . . I can keep going for a bit. It’s only been a few hours, I’d rather take my break later.”
She nods. “Right, well, line twelve is waiting.”
My stomach lurches, an uncomfortable sensation sweeping over me as I push myself to continue. But I do my best to sit up straight and smile. “Sure, I’m on it.”
Offering me an encouraging thumbs-up, she pats the top of my cubicle then disappears before I turn to the ominous blinking red light. Maybe I should’ve taken her up on that break. I glance around at the bare-walled cubicles, unable to see anyone sitting at their desks. I know it’s intentional. That it’s easier to talk on the phone like this when we aren’t staring at our colleagues, but it’s lonely. When I hear Claudia’s heels approaching again, I adjust my headset, shake out my hand, and press the button.
Come on, girl. Make your money.
“Well hey there, darlin’,” I purr into the phone. “How are you doin’ tonight?”
“Better now that I’m talking to you.”
A shiver races down my spine. Is it really him? Again? “Baby?”
“Hi there, sweetheart.”
I close my eyes as my thighs clench together at the sound of his voice. That damn voice. “I didn’t think I’d hear from you again. I’ve missed you,” I whisper into the phone.
He chuckles, and the sound scatters goose bumps over my bare thighs. “Is that so? I thought after last time I might have scared you off.”
My teeth snag on my lip at the memory of our last encounter. Fuck, it was hot. “I don’t scare so easily,” I tease.
“Do you touch yourself when you think of our last conversation?”
My cheeks burn as I whisper, “Yes.”
He chuckles again. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, sweetheart. Nothing to be ashamed of.”
“You ought to be ashamed of that mouth of yours,” I tease. “You kiss your mother with it?”
“I wouldn’t. Even if my mother ever chose to speak to me.”
I pause. Does he not speak to his mother? I’m not a therapist but maybe he has mommy issues. Is that why he’s so into degradation? There’s a whole lot to unpack there, but I can’t make assumptions based off one phone call confession. Besides, I’m not one to judge.
“Do you talk to your parents?” he asks.
“I don’t speak to either of them.”
“Why not?”
I sigh. “A lot of reasons. None of them nice.”
“Yeah . . . me too.”
“I’m sorry,” I say softly.
“Don’t be. Some people just can’t see past their own prejudice.”
“That’s hard. Are you happy, at least?”
He hums into the phone. “Sometimes. I am right now.”
“Any particular reason?”
“A certain sexy lady on the phone answered my call for the third time. I’m starting to think the universe is trying to tell me something.”
I suck in a quiet breath. “You haven’t spoken to anyone else?”
“You’re three for three, sweetheart.”
I don’t understand it, but the tight knots in my shoulders seem to loosen knowing he’s only ever spoken to me. “We never agreed to be exclusive,” I tease again, trying to lighten the mood. “If you speak to other girls on the phone . . . it’s okay.”
“Maybe I don’t want to talk to other girls.”
Heat creeps into my cheeks. “I’m flattered.”
“God, your voice is so fucking sexy,” he groans into the phone. “I feel like I’ve known you forever. Just hearing you gets me hard.”
“Can I tell you a secret?”
“Of course.”
“I had to clench my thighs together when I heard your voice on the phone,” I admit. “Your voice . . . it does things to me.”
I can practically see him smile. I really try to picture it this time. Try to imagine it’s Joel’s smile, but like a dream, the more I concentrate on it, the faster it fades away. Then that guilty feeling crawls back in. “Oh really? Does hearing me call you a dirty slut make you wet?”
Nodding, I swallow and answer, “Yes.”
“What else?”
“My nipples get so hard,” I continue, my breaths getting shallower, “it’s almost painful.”
“If I was there with you, I’d strip you down piece by piece until you’re naked, nipples standing at attention for me to do with as I please.”
As if they can hear him, my nipples rub uncomfortably against the inside of my bra. I check behind me and look around to make sure no one in the office is watching my cubicle then take a moment to adjust my breasts. The touch of my fingers against the sensitive peaks nearly rockets me out of my chair. “What would you do to them?”
“Oh sweetheart, you know I like things a little rough. You’re hoping for it, aren’t you?”
“I might be.”
“So, if I attached some clamps to those perky little tits, it would make you wetter, wouldn’t it?”
My eyelids flutter closed. “Mmm, yes.”
“How long do you think you could stand it? Waiting naked for me. Waiting for me to touch you. Waiting with nothing but the sensation of pressure on your nipples.”
“You wouldn’t torture me like that, would you?”
“It wouldn’t be torture. Maybe I’d sit and watch you try not to squirm. Maybe I’d have a drink while I watched you.”
“Don’t leave me too long. I’m desperate to be touched.”
The sound of his bed rustling comes through the speaker. “You know what I want from you before I touch you, right?”
My skin is flushed and tight, and like a runaway train, I can’t stop from falling down into this rabbit hole with him. “I’ll do anything you want me to do, Baby.”
“I want you to beg.”
Heat pulses between my legs and an involuntary gasp drags past my lips. “Yes. I’ll beg for it. I need to be touched so badly. Please touch me.”
He tsks through the phone. “Hmm, no I don’t think I will. I’m not convinced you really want me to.”
My fingers clench on the arm rest of my chair, sweat trickling down my back. “Please, Baby. I’ve been so good for you.”
A sigh. “What would you let me do to you?”
“Anything.”
“Would you let me use your mouth again?”
I breathe. “Yes.”
“Would you let me fuck you up against the wall?”
“Yes. Yes .”
“What if I wanted to tie you up? Play with you all night until you’re an incoherent mess?”
My clit pulses and my back arches in my chair.
“Please, Baby. Please! I can’t take it anymore.”
Shit, I’m being so loud. I glance around, terrified someone will look over and find me face flushed and gripping the phone like my life depends on it.
“I’d go slow, you know,” he rasps. “Starting at your ankles, my touch light against that gorgeous skin. Could you stand still, sweetheart?”
“It’s so hard to stay still. Your touch is so good.”
“Fuck, your thighs are soaked. What a desperate little whore.”
“I am. I am desperate. Please just touch my pussy.”
“What are you?” he growls.
My lips part and I throw my head back as my stomach clenches. “I’m your whore, Baby. Your filthy, desperate whore. Now please, touch me!”
“What a good slut. I’ll fuck you with my fingers for being so good.”
I can’t see Joel but I can visualize a tall, hard body kneeling before me with dark brown hair, his hand parting my dripping thighs, and as if he’s really here I shudder at the thought of him sliding his fingers inside of me. “Oh, god!”
“So sensitive,” he coos. “Fuck my fingers, sweetheart. Show me how desperate you are for it.”
That tension builds between my legs and I squeeze my thighs together more, but I can’t help it. Before I know it, my hips softly thrust against nothing. Wishing desperately that he were really here. It feels like he already is.
“You’re making me feel so good,” I cry. “I-I think I’m going to come.”
“Me too, sweetheart. Me too, I want us to come together.”
“Yes, yes .” And even though there’s nothing touching me, I come hard, my toes going numb in my sneakers as I cry out in the middle of the office.
The sound of his orgasm follows and I sink down into my chair, the muscles that have been tense for hours all releasing at the same time and the throbbing ache between my legs begins to dissipate.
Then all too quickly, I realize where I am. What just happened? I bolt upright in my chair, pushing the sweaty hair away from my forehead. My hand grips the phone as my eyes widen and I glance around me at the walls of my cubicle. Now my heart rate spikes because of an entirely different reason.
I just had a real orgasm over the phone with a complete stranger.
This is too personal. I’ve never let myself get this carried away. Never been so caught up in the act that it turned real. I feel dirty, and not in a good way. A horrible taste fills my mouth as I think about Joel. How he’s been so kind and romantic in his funny way. How he wants to date me, get to know me. How he’s crazy, but what the fuck am I doing where I have a man like that and let another get me off over the phone?
“You okay?”
“I . . . I don’t—” I think I might start hyperventilating. A single tear slips down my cheek. “I’m not sure.”
I expect him to hang up. To say until next time, sweetheart like he did before and leave me to sit here in my self-hatred and spiral.
“That was pretty intense,” he says softly. “I don’t want to leave until I know you’re okay.”
“Yeah . . .” I breathe. “Intense. Yes.”
“Just take some deep breaths,” he continues. “If I were there, I’d wrap my arms around you and stroke your hair.”
I almost chuckle as I realize I’m mindlessly stroking a thick strand of my hair for comfort. “That would feel nice.”
“ You’ve got a very strong grip. The kind a burglar needs. ”
My heart stutters as I recognize that line. “Hey, is that—are you watching To Catch a Thief ?”
There’s a pause as the music from my favorite movie swells in the background. “Oh, yeah. It was on the TV when I called. I can turn it off . . .”
“No!” I cry, then wince. If my moaning didn’t draw attention, shouting certainly will. “Sorry, I just mean . . . it doesn’t bother me.”
“Have you seen it before?”
“It’s one of my favorites.”
There’s a pause before the dialogue and music of the movie becomes louder, like he’s turned up the volume just for me.
“Can you hear it?” he asks.
I smile. “Yes.”
“Good. We can watch it together if you like.”
My lips part. “Wait . . . what? Like through the phone?”
“Sure, why not?”
I glance up to the clock above me, it’s three fifty in the morning. “I know it’s not your first time but . . . usually once guys get what they called for—you know . . .”
“They hang up?”
“I mean, you are paying by the minute.”
“Maybe I want to pay to watch a movie with you.”
I scoff. “Usually that’s a date.”
“Consider it a tip for a job well done. Besides, there’s something about your voice. It makes me feel better knowing you’re on the other side of the line.”
Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no . Not him too. What the fuck is wrong with me? I cannot fall for two guys at once. Especially not some random faceless man on the phone.
“It would be nice to just listen to you breathing. It’s like you’re here,” he whispers.
Another tear falls down my face and I sniff. “Okay,” I whisper back. The truth is I don’t think I could take another call right now. I might just fall apart emotionally if I don’t get this break. So I pull my feet up under me, wipe my cheeks, and say, “Do you think you could turn it up a bit more?”
He chuckles softly and the volume increases, so I can hear it as if there’s a TV right in front of me. I’ve seen the movie so many times that when I close my eyes, I can envision it before me. See the scenes as I hear them play out. And every so often, I hear him move, the sheets of his bed rustling, or the sound of him breathing. It feels so nice.
Sooner than I’d like, the credits roll, the outro plays, and I’ve nearly fallen asleep at my desk while listening to my favorite movie after having one of the strangest yet most intense orgasms of my life.
“Movie’s over,” he says.
“I guess this means goodbye then.”
“Just for now.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
“Until next time, sweetheart.”