“Can you take care of phone calls today?” the escort agency lady asked me, scratching at his neck like he wanted to be anywhere else.
I just stared. I’d been an escort for years, sure, but I’d never done the phone side of things. He didn’t wait for me to say yes or no. By the time I thought of an excuse, he was gone, door shut, leaving me with the laptop sitting there like some kind of test. Treasure or poison, I couldn’t decide.
It can’t be that hard, I told myself, though my hands felt clammy.
I logged in, slipped on the headset. Went live before I could lose my nerve. The first order popped up straight away: a man into domination, wanted me to call him Master. My throat tightened, but I pressed dial.
“Hello, Master,” I said, making my voice soft, light, pretending this was easy.
“Hey,” he replied. Just that. But his voice—low, rough—it curled straight down the line, vibrating in my ear. I felt a little tingle and hated that I liked it.
“Did you like my pictures, Master?” I asked, because he wasn’t leading.
“Of course,” he laughed. “Almost as much as you liked doing them.”
The photos weren’t even me, but I giggled anyway. Easier to keep the mood than to trip over honesty.
“I was thinking about you before you called,” I sighed, laying it on thick. “I’d love to have you here, Master.”
“Oh really? Why?” There was a teasing edge to him now.
“It gets lonely in bed,” I murmured, stretching each word, “without anyone to hold you. I need you with me, Master.”
“What are you wearing?” His voice sharpened with interest.
“Nothing,” I said with a little giggle. “Just a thin blanket… one tug and it’s gone.”
He stayed silent, which told me enough. I leaned in harder. “I can feel it brushing against my skin every time I move,” I whispered, letting out a soft moan. “I’m aching for you. Imagining your hands instead of mine.”
“What would you do if I were with you now?” he asked, voice lower, heavier.
“I wouldn’t let you touch me,” I teased, then paused, letting it hang. “I’d touch you first.”
He laughed—deep, close in my ear—and I shivered, even though I was only sitting at a desk.
“I’d start with your arms, feel the muscle, then your chest. I’d want to get you excited.”
“Well, you already succeeded,” he said, rough now, almost hoarse.
I laughed softly. “Oh yeah? I’d love to see it. Imagine my lips at your neck… drifting lower… until you can’t take it anymore.”
His breathing shifted, quicker, uneven. I closed my eyes, letting the sound of it wash over me.
“If you want this,” I whispered, “then it’s my job to satisfy your desires, Master.”
There was nothing but the sound of his breath, sharp and hurried. Then, finally—
“Thank you. Have a great evening.”
And the line went dead.
I sat there stunned for a second, headset still warm against my skin. Then another order flashed up on the screen. I adjusted the mic, let out a laugh under my breath. Maybe this wasn’t so bad. Maybe I could even start to enjoy it.
If you liked this story, slip into another layer of temptation with Texts & Tease in Kensington — a playful tale where messages turn into meetings, and fantasy spills into reality.