Call Me (15 page)

“I bet you twenty bucks you get off on the first call.” Dylan extends his hand for me to shake.

“Nice support, Dyl.”

“Think of it as my contribution to your film. A twenty will buy you, what, at least five minutes, won’t it?” he laughs.

“More like three from what I’ve researched. Thankfully, I got that grant. This shit can be expensive, especially if you need to pull off being a regular caller. I’m hoping I can work my charm. I mean, I did learn from the best after all,” I nod my beer towards Dylan before taking a sip.

“Cheers to getting off while getting it on,” Dylan says, raising his beer glass. “See what I did there? Get your dick off and your research on.”

“Dude, you’re a regular Socrates.”

“Cheers.”

We spend the rest of the night shooting the shit, but I never fully stop my mind from drifting away to thoughts of E.

Ellie

“H
ello? Er, I
mean…
shit
.”

“‘Shit’?” The man on the other end repeats.

“No, sorry. I meant…’Breathless Whispers’.” I try to cover using my best sexy voice.

“Really? This is supposed to get me off?”

“I’m sorry. I’m new. I was caught off guard.”

“Who gets caught off guard when the phone rings? Aren’t you supposed to be expecting calls? Here’s a tip. Quit now. You suck. Fuck, what a waste. I better not get charged for this, bitch.”

“Whoa, easy, buddy! I apologized. I’ll make sure you’re fully refunded.”

“You better.”

Click.

Well, that went well
. Hurray for day two on my own starting off on the right foot.

“Shit,” I mumble, reaching for my stress-relief aromatherapy rollerball dispenser from Saje, my favourite essential oil store, the one I discovered soon after my injury. Alternative medicine has been a great way to help me to manage my pain. I uncap the lid and start rubbing it along my temples, and in behind my ears. The soothing blend of lavender, mixed with hints of citrus, vetiver and subtle geranium permeate the air immediately helping to ground me. “I can do this. Fuck him. I don’t suck. I’m still learning,” I mutter, placing it back in my bag.

Deciding I need a pep talk, I move the icon beside my name to yellow and make a long overdue call. I call the one person I know who will talk me out of quitting, even when deep down I know I can’t really afford to quit at this point anyway, but still it will be good to have my ego and sprits raised. Sliding my iPhone, I move to my contacts, stopping on the name I need.

Erica.

“Hey, stranger. How goes the life?” she greets on the second ring.

“Erica. Oh goodness, I suck. I can’t do this, I’m awful already,” I confess.

“I’ve been waiting for your call. Tell Court she owes me twenty bucks.”

“Betting on me? Really? You guys suck, you know that? This was your crazy idea, so you better help me!”

“All right, Panic Mode Barbie, what’s the issue?”

“I can’t pull this act off. It’s too hard.”

“Oh please, you can so. You’re a smart girl and a movie geek, use your drama skills. I did it for over a year, and I’m shy.”

“I’m not in acting school, Ric, I’m going to be a screenwriter. This is way too hard.”

“Okay, non-actress, it’s called
pretending
. I’m sure a serious student of film can handle this easily. Regardless of having acting classes or not, it’s all about imagination and letting yourself have fun. We’re not going for an Oscar here. It’s really not the big deal you’re making it. Els, you’re crazy fun, sexy, creative, and you of all people can totally pull this off. Put your mind to it and just be confident.”

“I don’t know, some of these calls are whack,” I say, before telling her about my last call and the other crazy ones I’ve had too.

“Babe, that’s nothing. Trust me. You’ll get weirder stuff. Listen to me, though. You’re making this way too much of a big deal. It’s just talking, with a bit of sexy-sexy time.”

“That’s the trouble. I feel stupid. How the hell did you do it?”

“Honestly, you want the truth?” she asks.

“Erica, of course. I need to get good at this job and fast. I bet they question why I needed to refund that call. I can’t let it happen again. I really need any and all help.”

“First of all, you need to get out of that head of yours. Use your oil voodoo, play music in the background, dress the part, but you need to work on your mindset first. Remember, no one can hear or see you, so this can actually be a lot of fun. You can channel your inner goddess, hooker, angel and dominatrix all at the same time.”

“You sound like Destiny,” I quip.

“Second,” she ignores my comparison, “get into it. Some of these callers will turn you on. Let it happen. Women are sexiest when turned on. Let the caller’s voice wash over you. Allow yourself the freedom to get hot and bothered right along with them. It’s natural. We all do it.”

“I won’t. No way.”

“Whatever you say, but know that I know better, Els.”

“Not happening,” I say again, knowing it’s falling on deaf ears.

“Finally, for fuck’s sake, Ellie, be creative, adventurous—and like I said earlier—have fun with it. Pretend it’s the hottest man you can see. Pretend it’s one of your movie project things or whatever. Whatever you do, embrace the phone sex operator job. You won’t be successful if you over analyze it. It’s money, Els. Lots, if you can pull it off. And I know you can. You’ve just got to give yourself a real chance.”

“You’re right. I’m hindering myself. I guess I can do this.”

“Damn right you can. Now forget all the calls you’ve had so far. Become Chanel. Forget Ellie, and pretend you’re Chanel.”

“Got it.”

“Say it:
I am Chanel
. I am a sexy-voiced Phone Sex Superhero with the power to make men shoot cum all over themselves at the sound of my voice and dirty words. I am woman, hear me roar.”

“That’s disgusting, Ric!”

“What? It’s awesome.”

“It was way bad.”

“Got you to relax, didn’t it?” Erica laughs, before we say our goodbyes.

Ellie

A
s soon as
I shift my name back to green, the system beeps. I accept the call and my phone begins to ring. Having decided to always use the adapter to hide my voice, I ensure it’s in place before clicking on the headset. I’m hoping from here on out, it might help with boosting my confidence, knowing that no-one is hearing my real voice.

You are Chanel. You’ve got this. Easy peasy.

“Breathless Whispers. Let me leave you breathless,” I say softly into the microphone tip.

“What’s your name, lovely?” a rough voice asks, and I feel it in my toes. Maybe Erica was right. I need to let myself be free, put Ellie to the side, allow Chanel to be my alter ego—a costume. Chanel can be a confident, less-inhibited version of myself, a more sexually-versed version who enjoys dirty talk and all things that go along with it. One who has permission to like it, maybe even enjoying the benefits all this sexy talk can bring.

“Chanel. What’s yours?”

“It’s Jake,” the deep voice replies. “I’m hoping you can help me tonight.”

“Oh, Jake is one of my favourite names. It was my coach’s name in high school. I kinda had a crush on him,” I add, giggling for effect, or maybe it’s more due to nerves. “I’d love to help you. I’m so very helpful. How can I help you,
Jake?
” I ask stressing his name.

“I need to come, lovely. It’s been way too long. I need you to tell me a good bedtime story. One with a happy ending. I’m lying in my bed, ready for to you excite me.”

“You’re in luck. I love happy endings. Especially ones involving coming.” I slap my hand over my forehead.
Nice one, Captain Obvious.
Pausing, I wait for him to call me out, tell me I’m lame. But after a few beats I hear the opposite. He encourages me. He wants more.

“Good. ’Cause I’m really in the mood for a nice sexy story. You gonna give me one, Chanel? Ready to make me come?”

“Hell, yes. I’m more than ready,” I say, twirling a lock of my hair between my fingers.

Go for it, Ellie. Show yourself you can do this.

“Can I tell you about my crush, Jake? How I finally got the nerve to tell him how sexy I found him? Wanna hear what a bad girl I was?” I take a deep steadying breath, hoping my brain can write this script as fast as I need it.

“Fuck, yeah, I do.”

Giggling again, I start: “I was a cheerleader, you see, and he was the football coach. I spotted him my first day. I was a transfer student. I’d come in the middle of the semester. I’d always been a good dancer so I decided I could cheer. I tried out and made the team. I was hoping maybe the coach would notice me too. After making the team, I got the skimpy uniform. Learned the dances and went on to plan how I’d seduce the coach.”

“You sound like a bad girl, Chanel. Are you a naughty girl?”

“Yes. I’m very much a bad girl. So, one day after practice, I waited until everyone was gone. I could hear him on the phone. He was angry. Yelling. I slipped into his office, closed the door softly behind me. I’d left on my uniform. I thought it was sexy. Thought I looked good in it—”

“I bet you looked spectacular in it,” Jake says, his voice hitching. “Keep talking, Chanel, it’s working. I’m getting so hard.”

“I’m so glad. The best parts are yet to come, Jake. Relax and keep focused on my voice, on my words.”

“God, I can’t wait to hear about your uniform.”

Shit, what does a cheerleader uniform even look like?

Smiling to myself, I plan to move into the good bits quickly. For some reason, I’m more determined than ever to make Jake come good and hard. Maybe it’s the patience he’s showing me, the subtle encouragements. “Now close your eyes and listen while I tell you the story as if it were happening right before your eyes, Jake.” I say extending the “k” sound. “Pretending to be all shy, I asked in a low and sultry voice:
‘Have you ever fucked a student before, Coach Jake?’
I cocked my head to the side, leaned my back against his office door, hoping to draw attention to the swell of my large breasts. I wanted his eyes to notice the deep ‘V’ of my shirt, notice it’s tightness, and how it hugged my girls just right—”

“Fuck, yeah, I can see your cleavage. Keep going, sweetheart,” Jake interrupts, whispering from the other end. I can’t deny that I feel myself getting flushed from his getting excited.

“I could tell by the glint in his dark eyes that he was succumbing to my plan. Turning to click the lock in place, I added: ‘
Or, better yet, ever fuck a cheerleader, Coach?’
just to tease him that extra little bit. Hearing a small growl, I smiled, knowing I had him where I wanted him. Turning back around, I heard him mutter something inaudible over the phone before he hung it up and said my name with a moan, knocking the phone from its cradle in his haste.

“‘
I want to suck your huge cock while you sit in your chair pulling my hair, Coach. Would you like that?’
I asked, pushing away from the door. His eyes opened wide in surprise, and a sexy smirk began to form on his lips, lips I’d imagined sucking on my clit a hundred times while I’d gotten myself off in my bed. Standing in front of him, I felt the heaviness of his gaze as it travelled from my white tennis shoes up my tanned, toned legs, pausing at the hem of my barely-there blue plaid skirt. And all the while, I was loving that dark shadow taking over his brown eyes as they roamed over me once, twice more, over my bare legs, stalling a beat on my heavy tits, before finally landing on my face.
‘That a yes, big boy?’ I said. ‘Wanna watch me deep throat your hard cock, see me choke it all down, let it graze the back of my throat?’
Reaching under my skirt, I pulled my panties down, then kicked them off over my shoes as I walked to him where he was sitting in his chair. Tossing the satin thong his way, I let my own smirk play on my lips. Once again, I knew I had him. I mean who can resist the wet panties of an eighteen-year-old cheerleader, right? Ready to make my final approach, I teased him, moving my hips, forcing them to sway until I was standing before him where he was now resting back in his chair, his hand grinding down heavily on his cock—”

“Fuck, yes, Chanel. Tell me more, lovely,” Jake says on the line, and I smile again, knowing my words are good, that this is working.

“Coach nodded as I moved to stand between his open knees. I moved my hands over his bearded face; I made quick work of discarding my shirt. My tits sprung free right into his face—”

“Fuck, tell me about your tits. I bet they’re spectacular. God, I wanna suck them,” Jake blurts out again, causing a pause in the story.

“Yes. I want that too, Jake. I want my hard nipples in your mouth, want your hot wet tongue to kiss, suck and bite each hard tip. I want your hand to roam, and squeeze each heavy double-D. Can you do that for me?” I ask, letting out a soft whimper, because in this moment it’s true. My hands move over my chest, stopping at the distended tips under my shirt.

“I’m so fucking hard right now,” he growls in my ear.

“That’s good, Jake, very good. Now take that big smooth cock of yours out. I want you to touch yourself while I finish my story. Can you do that, handsome?”

“Fuck, yeah, tell me more.” I hear his zipper open, a sharp intake of breath, and I assume he’s touching his cock. I can’t deny, the idea of him touching himself at my words is getting me more excited. Maybe Erica and Destiny are right after all.

“Tell me more, Chanel. I’m so fucking excited right now,”

Letting out a breathy moan, I continue my story.

“After Coach played with my tits, licking, pinching, resting his face in between my heavy cleavage, I leaned in to whisper in his ear: ‘
Once I finish sucking you dry, I want to try your beard on. I want to sit on your face while you fuck my wet cunt with your mouth, slip your tongue in and out of my sweet heat, slide that beard over and over my pussy. I want to see my wetness dripping off your chin. Can you do that for me, Coach?’
The next thing I know, Coach growled and moved me not-so-gently to sit on his desk. Rumbling and muttering to himself, he pulled my hair back, and tilted my head to face him before he crashed his mouth on top of mine. He kissed me hard while he moved my legs to allow him to get in closer. ‘
Gonna fuck that sweet cunt of yours first. I can’t wait another second. Then I’ll lap up every single drop while you ride my beard, sugar.’