A Twist on Phone Sex

It’s Tuesday.  It is almost time to log in.  Every Tuesday she logs in and waits for the phone to ring so she can start her part-time job.  She never would have imagined even three years ago she would be doing this kind of part-time job.  Looking for a remote typing job and complaining to a friend that none of them were legitimate, she mentioned being a phone sex operator.  Her friend started explaining the process and that she knew people that had done it.  It was easy money and you do it from home.  After a little research and investigation a month later, she was set up in her home.  She logged in and waiting for the calls to be routed her way.  She rarely logged in without shaking her head and saying a quiet prayer that her mother never finds out about this particular source of income.

She logs in.  She makes coffee.  When she started it was a shot of Fireball Whiskey to get some liquid courage.  Now she feels more confident and coffee will do just fine.  She is wearing her usual.  Sweatpants and a T-shirt, fluffy slippers and her hair in a messy ponytail.  In the beginning, she dressed a little sexy to help get herself in the mood.  She doesn’t need to do that anymore.

By the time the callers got to her they had already heard the policies of privacy and conduct, prices had been disclosed and credit card information exchanged by the automated system.  After the third or fourth call, she headed to the basement to hit the treadmill.  She walked on the treadmill and set the incline high.  This got her breathing up so it worked well with the job at hand.

The last call of her shift came through.  The first thing she heard was music in the background.  She listened closer and realized it was Marvin Gaye, Sexual Healing.  She smiled to herself.

“Good evening, Love.  How are you feeling tonight?”

“I’m doing well, thank you for asking.  What is on your mind this evening?”  She tried to steady her voice and breathing, it was a little early for that just yet.

“I want to do all the talking.  Is that fine with you, Love.”

“Sure, whatever you want.”  She noticed a nervousness in her voice that she didn’t expect.  It was slight and she was sure that he didn’t notice it.

“Ok, Love, let’s get started then.  Don’t be nervous.”

Fuck.  He noticed.  A change of roles.  She heard him chuckle a bit and took her silence in stride.  “Your voice is very telling, Love.  Are you ready?”

“Yes, I am ready.”

“Fine then, let us begin.   I want you to sit on the floor.  Not the furniture.  The floor.  Let me know when you are settled and comfortable on the floor, Love.”

“I am settled,” she said and then put the phone on mute.  Opened the washing machine and started pulling the clothes from the machine to move them to the dryer.

“Are you being truthful, Love?”  Damn it.  He was a little too intuitive.

“One moment, I need to readjust where I am sitting.”  She went back to the gym area and settled on the yoga mat on the floor.  She may as well play along since he seemed to be somewhat “Kreskin” through the phone lines.

“I am settled now.  On the floor.”

“Good, Love.  I want you to be comfortable.  Physically and mentally.”

“I am.”  He had a command and dominance in his voice.

“I am going to tell you what I will do to you.  Do not respond with anything other than, Yes Sir.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand.”

“I don’t think you do.  I said only reply with, Yes, Sir.  Was that more clear for you, Love?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl”.

What the fuck?  Where is this going?

“I want you to close your eyes.  I want your hands palms up at your side.  Keep them there. Listen to my voice.  Focus only on my voice.  Imagine I am with you, standing behind you.  I am close enough for you to feel my presence.  I am not close enough that you feel me physically.  If at any point you are feeling uncomfortable with my words, I want you to say, ‘stop’.  Do you understand, Love?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl.  Now, imagine I am kneeling behind you.  From my standing position, I have knelt down behind you.  You feel my breath, I haven’t touched you.”

“Yes, Sir.”  Her eyes were closed.  His voice was commanding.  She didn’t mind.  She was focused on his voice.  His commands.

“Good girl.  Imagine you feel my hands in your hair.  I am gathering it behind you.  Off your neck and off your shoulders.  Slowly pulling it tightly behind your head. You feel my breath on your neck.  It is warm and light.  You can almost feel my lips on your neck.  I am that close, but I haven’t touched you yet.”

She felt herself sway backward slightly as if he was actually there, gathering her hair behind her.  She didn’t open her eyes.  His voice was intoxicating.

“My breath is the only thing touching you, Love.   You feel it on your neck and shoulders.  Warm and light.  Now, you feel the index finger of my right hand lightly touch the back of your neck.  I am tracing a line from the back of your neck to the end of your right shoulder.  I am tracing on the top of your right shoulder.  I continue to trace that line down to the outer edge of your right collarbone.  You feel it, barely.  I trace your right collarbone to the center of your neck.  That hollow place just above your necklace.  You feel my right index finger, just that one finger, drawing a small circle in that hollow place.  You still feel my breath on your neck.  Two sensations, my breath lightly on the back of your neck, and my right index finger touching the front of your neck, circling that indent between your right and left collarbone.”

She could feel it.  Sitting alone on her basement floor she could legitimately feel his finger touching her, swirling slow circles on the front of her neck, his breath softly caressing the back of her neck.  The small hairs that had fallen out of her ponytail moved and tickled her and while she knew he wasn’t there with her they gave her feelings validation.

“Now, Love, my finger is moving from your neck in a straight line down toward your chest.  Still soft and slow and light.  I am barely touching you, Love, but you feel it.  It feels like a feather, yes?

“Yes, Sir.”  Her response was effortless.  She was hypnotized by his words.

“Good girl. How are you feeling, Love?”

She hesitated.  She wasn’t supposed to answer with anything other than ‘yes sir’, but this question required a response.  Her brain was struggling to function and focus on anything other than his breath and his touch.  Two things that weren’t really there, but she felt as if they were.  She let out a small sigh in response.

“Very good girl.  You learn quickly.  My finger is on your chest just above your breast.  The movement is downward, light and soft.  You feel it.  You are anticipating its destination.  Your focus is on my finger and where it is going and how soft and light my touch is.  Your focus is on the power that such a light touch has.  Now, my finger is at your breast.  I am slowly drawing circles around your nipple.  I haven’t touched your nipple yet, simply drawing circles around your nipple.  You can feel my finger on your breast.  Your breathing is steady but faster than normal.  You can feel the difference in pressure when you take a deep breath, the pressure is harder.  When you breathe out, the pressure is lighter.  In and out.  In and out.  You can change the pressure without me even moving my finger.  Do you understand, Love?”

“Yes, Sir.”  She realized she was breathing deeply to match his words.  Or was she breathing deeply to match his imaginary touch?

“Breathe harder for me, Love.  I want you to breathe harder.  My finger isn’t going to move anywhere but around your nipple.  To feel my touch you need to breathe deeply.  Breathe through your mouth, Love.  I want to hear your breathing.  Do you understand, Love?”

“Yes, Sir.”  She complied.  She took in a deep breath.  Slow, through her mouth.  One breath.  Two breaths.  Three breaths.

“Good girl, Love.  Now, you will feel my finger, just that one right index finger, on your nipple.  The very tip of your nipple.  You feel my finger as you breathe.  With every deep breath, you feel the tip of my finger tap the tip of your nipple.  Breathe deeply four times for me, Love.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”  She took a breath in, four times.  Slowly, deeply, with each breath, she felt his finger tap her nipple.

“Good girl, Love.”

She felt the last tap and heard the line go dead with a click and a dial tone.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.