The phone feels foriegn in my hands. It's shiny sliver surface and black buttons wink with slimy perfection. I hear his breathing on the other end of the line. I look at my brightly colored toenails. Cherry red. I painted them an hour ago. His gasps come faster, more hotly now.
I swallow hard.
My voice is silky smooth and wraps around him softly.
I caress his face with velvet words. I moan and sigh. I arch my back and wish I could hang up this vile telephone. I wish I had a lover. A flesh and blood man to wrap me up in strong arms and kiss the sweet curve of my neck.
"I need to kiss and lick and taste you. Would you like that? Would you like it if I swirled my tongue over the tip of your cock and swallowed you whole? Mmmm...I can taste your cum now...." I moan and pretend to rub flesh that he has no idea is bone dry and nowhere near my fingers. "Ahhhh....ohhh God...honey...please...give it to me!" I moan louder, more excitedly, giving Meg Ryan a run for her money.
I hear him gasp and gurgle. Grunting harder, faster. His climax is loud and somehow sterile.
The line goes dead.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The call ended.
The system tells me that I'm ready for the next caller.
I clear my throat and lay back on the pillows. I glance at the clock. That call was 12 minutes long. Need to keep them a bit longer to make my bonus. My eyes drift to a photo of my boys. What the hell am I doing? I close my eyes against the shame...the growing emptiness in my chest.
"Hi!" My voice sounds fabricated, as if I'd stolen artificial cheeriness from a perpetual--ageless--bimbo. "This is 'Jenna.' Who's this?"