Call Me

by Gillian Jones

  “Watch now. I’ll get only one of us to drink. Pay attention, the master is going in,” she says, rubbing her hands while jutting her chin my way. And I know what’s coming before she gets a word out.

  “You asshole,” I whisper, giving her a sweet smile. Payback is a bitch‘n’all.

  “Never have I ever been a phone sex operator.” Courtney claps her hands, pleased with herself, a huge smile marring her happy little face. Brent and Susan suddenly start moving their faces between us like you would when watching a tennis game. I’m going to kill my former best friend. Even though I’ve been toying with the idea of telling them about my new job—especially since I hate lying, and I know I can trust them not to judge me or tell a soul if I ask them not to—I wasn’t planning on telling them like this.

  “Ellie, don’t you need to take a drink?” Courtney asks, feigning innocence as I feel my eyes bugging out of my face while giving her the evil eye. But I bring the sweet taste of vodka and cranberry juice to my lips nonetheless, while she giggles as if it’s no big deal.

  “Shut your whoring mouth! What…Ellie?” Brent says, bolting up, suddenly excited and intrigued. “You dirty, dirty girl. Please tell me it’s true.”

  Pouring more vodka into my glass, I make quick work of adding a splash of cranberry juice before deciding to acknowledge the elephant that has now arrived in the room.

  Deciding fuck it, I pick up my recently topped-off drink, lift it to my mouth, and take another huge gulp.

  “Breathless Whispers, this is Chanel. Let me leave you breathless,” I say, raising my glass in toast.

  “Holy shit!” drops from Susan’s lips.

  “I need all the details, young lady. You little sneak. I never—I mean, never—would have expected this from you.” Brent thumbs towards Court. “Her absolutely, but you? I’m shocked and kind of excited for you, sweets, our rebel in disguise. Look at you getting all outside of your square box. I need deets, like, now. And I need to hear about the hottest caller you’ve had. Things aren’t so good with Ed right now, so help give a guy some nighttime ammo. It’ll keep me from being a stray until he realizes he misses me.” He pours us another round, laughing.

  “Aww, I’m sorry, Brent-Brent. You guys will sort it out, you always do.” I pat his back.

  “Great, now share, woman. I want visuals,” Brent deadpans, causing us all to laugh.

  “Oh my. Okay, I’ll tell you all about it, but first things first. It’s my turn. We can talk later. There’s eighty bucks with my name on it that I must claim first. You people can suffer with a lack of info for a little while longer. Besides, I’m going to need a few more drinks for that bit of sharing!” I wave my cup in the air.

  “Courtney, I can’t believe you didn’t tell us before, you little ass.” Susan lightly punches Court’s arm. “It’s been how long now that we’ve been thinking she’s been innocently helping the elderly? Lies. Y’all are lucky I love you.”

  “Sorry, babe. Wasn’t my place,” Courtney beams, giving me a sly grin.

  “Uh, newsflash, bright light. You just told them all now, still wasn’t your place.” I half-joke, honestly glad it’s out and that they took it the way I knew they would. Well, how I knew Brent would.

  “I’m all for letting people choose their own paths, but Ellie, I have to ask: why this? I mean, you could do any job. Why choose to degrade yourself?” Susan asks, a hint of apprehension lacing her tone. I know her well enough to know she’s not judging me, rather she’s curious as to why I of all people would take a job in a sex trade.

  “No, it’s okay, Susan. I know it’s a shock. I guess I felt it was the best way to make money fast. There was no way I’d still be at U of T if I didn’t get a job that paid enough. Losing my scholarship, I was pretty much up shit creek, and Breathless Whispers was my paddle. It’s easy, flexible, and I make good money. Best of all, it doesn’t involve any work where my knee will be bothered, it’s still healing. Oh, and after literally pounding the pavement for two weeks, it’s all I could find,” I add, shrugging my shoulders, pasting on a big ol’ fake smile.

  “I guess that all makes sense. I know it’s good money,” says Susan. “Believe it or not, my cousin Dale was actually a porn star in college. His roommate’s girlfriend’s father was some producer. One day he saw Dale and begged him to star in his production of Red Riding Hood Does the Wolf. It was some kind of fuzzy fetish film or something and he made like five grand, so he did it—wearing a stuffed wolf head—and no one in our family was any the wiser. And trust me, I feel the pain of the job hunt in this city. Which is surprising, considering its size.”

  “Wow, that’s seriously intense. I didn’t realize they made furry films,” Courtney barks out a laugh.

  “Yeah, it was pretty crazy. He tried to make me watch it, but I threatened to tell his mom if he forced me. I assured him I was proud, but never wanted to see his masterpiece,” she giggles, taking a sip of her drink.

  I spend the next few minutes assuring them all that it’s safe and probably one of the easier jobs I’ve had. Once you get past all the crazy fetishes and stuff at least.

  “Are you all done giving Ellie the third-degree? Can we play now? I’m losing my buzz,” Brent interrupts, and I’m thankful.

  “Again, thanks for the spotlight, Court. I sure hope I can repay the favour soon,” I scold. “Now, let’s play, so I can drink…a lot.”

  “Hey, don’t be pissy,” Courtney says. “That was in the name of learning. It was a great way to teach Susan how to play properly; the poor girl was going to be hammered in no time. I was being a good friend.”

  “Ha. Good thing we all have you, eh, Court? Well, it’s my turn now. Get your drink ready, friend.” I hand her the bottle of vodka.

  “Oh God. Here we go,” Susan says, sliding her drink closer to herself.

  “Never have I ever longed to have sex with my thesis advisor. BAM!” I shout, feeling smug. Immediately, Court and Brent pick up their drinks and take sips.

  “I knew it!” I point at Court. “You want to boink Jax—hard.”

  No surprise that Susan doesn’t drink on this one. She’s been in a long distance relationship for years with a guy from back home in Thunder Bay. Rory visits, she visits, they’re cute and fuzzy.

  “And that’s how it’s done, son!” I mark the scorecard, giving both TA lovers a tally mark under their names. So far, Brent is leading, I might have to dig deep to get this guy. “All right, Brent, you’re up.”

  “Uh-uh, not so fast, Els,” Court interrupts, a devilish smile taking over the majority of her face.

  “What?” I ask, confused.

  “Drink, Ellie.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Pleaaase, don’t even try that shit right now. You know you need to take one fuck of a big drink. Does the name Dr. Ace Ryan help to jog your memory at all?”

  Fuck.

  Double Fuck Squared.

  Fuckity fuck fuck.

  I didn’t think. When I blurted out my masterful question to trip Court into admitting what we both know to be true, I never thought that I’d be implicating myself in the process, as well.

  “Damn it.”

  The upside to “Never Have I Ever” is that you can have a lot of fun getting drunk and learning things about people. The down side is, you can’t lie. You’re supposed to tell the truth.

  “God, this game is fun!” Susan chimes in again. “I’m on total gossip overload,” she squeals.

  “I hate you.” I glare at Court before picking up my glass and finishing it off.

  I’m just about to give her shit when my phone beeps beside me, drawing my attention to the email notification.

  Opening it up, I almost die when I see it’s from Professor Ryan.

  To: Ellie Hughes <@EllieH1256@UofT.net>

  From: Ace Ryan <@ProfARyan@UofT.net>

  Subject: Preliminary meeting

  Date: Oct. 16, 2015

  Time: 10:40 p.m

  Ms. Hughes,

  I�
�ll be in my office Monday morning at 8:00 a.m. I’d like to schedule your preliminary meeting for then. Since you’ll be here for class at 9 a.m. anyway, I’m assuming this won’t be a problem? Please be prepared to choose a follow-up meeting date, as well, as we are now a week behind the original schedule. Please reply to confirm you’ve received and that you’ll be attending.

  Best Regards,

  Professor A. Ryan

  Faculty of Film Studies

  The University of Toronto

  Work: 416-876-5356

  “Jesus, it’s like he could hear us…” I hear Brent over my shoulder. “Take it as a sign, Ellie.”

  “Whatever. Hey, stop reading over my shoulder. Worst habit, it’s so rude.”

  “Well, you can sure as hell expect me to do it even more now that I know how exciting your life is. I’m hoping to catch some taboo call stuff, or better yet a torrid, forbidden love affair involving smutty emails and sexting,” he teases.

  “Never happening. One, I work in an office, not off my phone, and two, sure, I might have a little crush on my professor, but he’s just that—my teacher—so he is very off limits.”

  “We shall see,” Courtney weighs in.

  At this point, I’m over them trying to goad me. “Are we playing the game or what? I feel like Miss Susan needs to share some skeletons.” I give her a warning look.

  After typing out a reply to Ace telling him I’ll be there, I spend the rest of the night drinking, playing “Never Have I Ever”, and sharing a few of my experiences as a PSO.

  Note to self: never ever play “Never Have I Ever” ever again.

  Chapter 26

  Ellie

  It’s Saturday night. I’m hungover and working a ten p.m. to two a.m. shift at Breathless. I chose to work this terrible block tonight figuring it might be slow enough that I could review my thesis notes for Monday morning’s meeting. Ace emailing me without much notice has put me a bit on edge. I want to make sure I’m fully prepared to answer any questions he may ask about my paper. I already have a feeling he might try to dissuade me from my topic.

  On top of feeling pressure about Monday’s meeting, Brent is driving me crazy, too. Ever since Courtney forced my little revelation last night about my job, Brent has been a needy little bastard wanting all kinds of details. I swear, if I didn’t know him better, I’d think he was writing an exposé on my secret life. I’m just about to text to question him about it when the familiar beep fills the air. Tossing my phone on top of my iPad, I look at the computer, checking the call log.

  “Breathless Whispers, let me leave you breathless,” I say to the caller, who’s listed role-play as his preference for tonight. These calls are quickly becoming my favourites. I’ve been working here for almost two months now and I’m discovering a few things about my self-proclaimed vanilla-style preferences. I’m anything but.

  It took this, taking on Chanel’s persona, to discover that I, too, have wild fantasies and desires. Someday, maybe I’ll find my own fantasy maker to push and test my limits. The desire to explore role-play to its fullest weighs on my mind with each new call, and I love getting to pretend I’m someone else, pushing my own boundaries and comfort, picturing the words I whisper as they play out for each caller, getting to once again channel my inner movie buff. I pretend I’m an actress starring in the role of a lifetime, in a film written and directed by me; my goal is to chase the Oscar. And I have to admit, I have given some pretty wicked performances.

  “I want to listen to you make my wife come. Hard,” comes a commanding voice, booming through the line. “I want her to know that feeling. That sensation…I want to hear her breathe and feel her get wet as you touch her.”

  Well, fuck me. And suddenly I’m completely flailing, my voice lodged in my throat. How can you get someone off if you can’t find your voice? It’s not that I’m against a little girl on girl action, I’m just the least experienced person on the planet at how the mechanics of it all work. Sure, I’ve wondered, fantasized a little, if I’m being honest. But these are the thoughts, images, and ideas I keep on lock down in the recesses of my mind.

  And now this man wants me to bring them to the stage, to take the lead role in a script I’ve never seen or experienced. Shaking off my insecurities, I breathlessly agree.

  “I’d love to touch your gorgeous wife. I love nothing more than bringing a sexy woman to the edge then slowly giving her the last subtle push she needs to fall.”

  I cringe, hoping I didn’t oversell something I have no clue about.

  “Fuck. You’re going to be perfect for Rachael. What do you think, sugar?” he asks, and I’m about to reply when I hear a woman’s voice come over the line:

  “I can’t wait, sir. Thank you for this Happy Anniversary, honey.”

  “Sir”?

  “Take off Rachael’s clothes…sir,” I say. “I want to see her beautiful body on display for us.”

  “Yes, my wife is breathtaking. After ten years, she’s only gotten sexier,” he says, and my stomach dips at the obvious feelings he has for his wife.

  “That’s perfect, our compliments are sure to make Rachael all the more excited for my touch. Are you naked, Rachael? Are you ready for me?

  “God. Yes.”

  “Close your eyes, honey. I’m standing right in front of you, naked, my hard nipples brushing up against yours, my fingers lightly touching every one of your curves. I can see your breathing getting faster. You’ve got an amazing body, responsive as fuck to me—”

  A deep groan resonates through the line, cutting me off; I think “sir” is getting excited.

  “Are you with us, sir? Can you stroke your hard cock while I continue to touch your beautiful wife?”

  “Shit, yeah, I can. She looks so fucking hot, her body trembling from your voice, excited under my gaze. I’m so goddamned hard.”

  Holy shit, I’m staring to feel a little rush of excitement myself. To be honest, it doesn’t happen a lot, but Destiny was right, it totally happens no matter how much you’d like to think otherwise. With scenes like this, how could it not? Maybe I should film myself one time? My GoPro App would be perfect.

  “Go lie on the bed now, pet. I want to see your pussy. I need to feel your smooth skin as my fingers dance along your sweet lips, bringing you nothing but pleasure.”

  “Yes, shit, please do. I’m here. I’m lying down. Please touch me.”

  “Sir, I’d like your help. Since it’s a special night for both of you, let’s all play.”

  “God, I’d fucking like that. You should see her; she’s fucking perfect, lying, waiting, goosebumps rising all over her sexy body, her nipples tight with excitement…”

  “Perfect. Slowly spread your legs, Rachael. Nice and slow. Tease us. Can you take your fingers and run them along your pretty pink pussy lips?”

  “Yes. Yes…”

  “Tell me, honey. Are you wet for me?”

  “So wet. Fuck, I need more.”

  “Shhh, no more talking, close your eyes and let my voice guide you. Sir, please act as my hands now. I’ll tell you the movements, be my touch.”

  “Oh shit, Rachael, you’re fucking drenched, honey. I’m not going to last.”

  “Sir, I’d like you to move my hand along Rachael’s wet lips, apply the subtle pressure of a lover’s kiss after a few days away. Can you feel my fingers caressing you gently?”

  “I feel so much. It’s so much.”

  “Mmmm, I can feel you getting wetter with every stroke. Slip my finger inside now, slowly stretch up, now add another and make the ‘come hither’ movement.”

  “Jesus Christ, Billy, I’m gonna fucking come…!”

  Holy fuck! I shake my head in disbelief that I actually pulled that off. Grabbing my phone, I decide to share my call with Brent. Exposé or not, he will totally appreciate my mad skills on this one.

  Chapter 27

  Ellie

  Note to self, the ten-to-two shifts are not the homework-friendly shifts at all. I’ve only go
t half an hour left to go, and I notice I’ve answered twelve calls. Standing from the desk chair intent on moving my tired self to the comfy chaise, the hope of resting my eyes for a moment disappears mid-step at the sound of the beep. Seeing who it is, however, makes me smile. Jake.

  He called back.

  “Hi, Chanel, it’s Jake.”

  “Hi, Jake. I’m excited you called again. I was hoping you would.”

  “Me too, lovely. Me too. Sorry it took me a few days; work’s been a bit crazy. I just started a new job and moved to the city, so things have been nuts.”

  “I bet. Glad you’re calling now, though,” I say in a shy voice.

  “I was hoping you could help me out tonight. I’ve got a crazy bet going on with a buddy. He says all women do this, and I disagree. I need to know the answer to a personal question. I figured you could probably help me out.”

  “I’d like to give you a hand, Jake, anytime,” I tell him in a low breathy voice, hoping he gets my drift.

  “That’s good, ’cause this is sort of a personal question.”

  “Mm-hmm. That’s okay. You can ask me anything, always.”

  “Okay. Have you ever watched yourself masturbate? Sat front and centre and watched?” he asks, his voice taking on a huskier sound, and it makes my skin tingle to life. I like the sound. A lot.

  “No. I mean, of course I masturbate, but never where I can see what I’m doing to myself.”

  “Jesus. You’re making me rock hard hearing that you get yourself off. Would you do it for me? With me?”

  “You want me to get myself off for you, Jake? Is that what you want?”

  “No, Chanel. I want you to masturbate while watching yourself and I want you to describe it for me while I jerk myself off.”