Her voice was so warm, so unrestrained. “I took up a new class today. Pole fitness.”
“Pole dancing?” I slid my hand under the duvet.
“Not exactly, but I think I’ll be able to use the skills...”
“I’d love to see you grinding that sweet little slit against the pole for me.”
“You could make me dance for your friends, too.”
“I’ll make you perform for a whole fucking crowd, offer them your sweet little holes to get gang fucked.” My cock thumped against my palm at the thought. I pictured a cute little redhead, staring up at me with glazed eyes as she’s pounded from behind by two big fucking men. Her lips are parted, breathing ragged, and she wants it, she’s moaning for more, begging for my thick, meaty cock in her asshole.
“There are clubs, you know... for that kind of thing...”
Yes, I did know, and so did the PR company I’d paid a small bloody fortune to head off the scandal. “Have you been?”
“No,” she admitted. “But I’d like to... I’d really like to...”
“What stops a hot little minx like you hitting the sex clubs?”
“Nerves... fear... I want a guy to take control, a guy I trust. I want give myself up, but know I’ll be ok. Does that sound fucked up?”
“Sounds sensible.”
She laughed gently, a lovely sound. “Only you would say that, Jason.”
“That’s why I’m that man.”
“How could I trust you to be the one who kept me safe? I don’t even know you.” There was something in her voice, something teasing, coaxing.
“I think you know me.”
“Bold statement considering I’ve only ever heard your voice. I don’t know a thing about you.”
“I’m not a psycho, Lucy.”
“You would say that,” she laughed.
“Tell me I’m just a regular caller. That this doesn’t mean anything. Tell me it isn’t going anywhere.”
There was a pause on the line, I let her take her time. “You know it’s not like the others.” Her breathing was shallow, fast. “I think about you all the time.”
I believed her. “You’re playing with your clit, aren’t you? Dirty girl, Lucy, such a good little dirty girl.”
“Fuck, Jason, I’m not even supposed to be working right now, and I’m here, signed in on a shift that’s not mine...”
“I can give you this...” Her voice blocked out everything, all the frustration, all the rage, all the pain. “Everything you need.”
Another pause. “What happened last night? Who was the voice I heard?”
Shit. I opted to suck it up and see. “My wife. We’re estranged.”
“Is that code for I’m married but don’t want it to sound bad?”
“No,” I said, simply.
“Sorry, it’s none of my business,” she said. “I was just curious.”
So was I. Very fucking curious. “Do you have someone?”
“No. I don’t really do relationships.”
“Why not?”
I listened to her breathe. “It’ll be four in the morning soon, do you really want to do this? You’re paying one-fifty a minute.”
“Why don’t you do relationships, dirty girl?”
“I’ll sound like a freak,” she sighed.
It was my turn to laugh. “You want me to arrange for half a dozen strange men to tag team your pussy, and now you’re worried you’ll sound like a freak?”
She laughed along with me, and I realised how long I’d been without the ease of shared humour. “I dunno, I guess I don’t want to do the weekly shop with the same guy who ties me up and fucks the shit out of me. It doesn’t sit right.”
“I get it. That doesn’t make you a freak.”
“It’s bigger than that. Much bigger.”
“You want a sex only relationship?”
“Kind of.”
“Tell me, Lucy.”
“You really want to know?” She was playing with herself again, I could hear it in her voice. “Strange men feel so much dirtier...”
“Good girl, keep going.”
“When I get myself off, I always picture myself blindfolded... I’m always giving myself to men I can’t see. There’s this one guy in my fantasies, and I never see his face, couldn’t ever point him out in a crowd, but I’m always ready for him... always spread wide for him to take me as his... he could be anyone, and I wouldn’t even know... I don’t want to know... I don’t want to know the men he brings to me, either...”
My throat turned dry. “Wouldn’t you be scared?”