“Hello.” A woman’s voice purred, in accented tones.
A pause. “Yeah? What do you want? You called me?”
“Oh. I’m terribly sorry. I’m not sure how these things work.”
“Cellphones? Or conversations?” came the half-irritated, half-amused reply.
The woman chuckled nervously. “Well, I find myself quite lonely and I felt the need to hear a lovely woman’s voice.” Her words were tinged with not a little sadness, and it took Myka a few seconds to realize what the woman said.
“So you just call up random people until you find a woman’s voice you like?”
“No, well I suppose, I found your number in a magazine, and I thought what harm would it do?”
“A magazine? No. You didn’t. What kind of magazine . . ?” Myka stopped abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk. “Are you saying you think I’m …” Myka burst into laughter. “Oh, come on. Tell Pete he got me. That’s really funny.”
“I assure you, I don’t know any Pete. And I find your laughter very insulting. Is it because I’m a woman? I assume you mainly receive gentlemen callers, but it cannot be that unusual.” The genuine hurt in the woman’s voice brought Myka up short.
“I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m not-“
“Surely you don’t have to enjoy women to let one appreciate your voice? And I do appreciate your voice. It’s charming as, I imagine, are you.” The woman’s voice turned seductive, and Myka breath hitched at the sexual tones woven through her speech.
“If anyone should be a phone sex operator, it’s you.” She muttered.
Silky laughter rang in her ear, forcing a smile out of Myka. “Do you find my voice enjoyable darling?”
“I see.” Myka could hear the woman’s pout over the phone.
She sighed, exasperated. “Oh, fine, you have a lovely voice, but really I don’t-“
“I understand. You don’t have to say anything sexual; I’m finding this conversation more than adequate.” The woman’s voice was slower, breathier.
“Um, what are you doing? Never mind, I don’t want to know! I’m going to hang up now.”
“No, please don’t!” Something in the woman’s voice made Myka pause. She seemed desperate, but for what Myka couldn’t say.
“I’ll stop if it makes you uncomfortable. Just please don’t hang up.”
“Ok.” Myka said, not believing the words leaving her mouth. “Uh, you don’t have to stop. I’m just not sure what to say.”
“Thank you. You may say anything you like. Tell me about yourself, what do you enjoy?”
“Uh, I’m in law enforcement.” Myka cursed herself. “I’m really bad at this.”
“It’s fine. So, do you wear a uniform?”
Myka laughed. “Not really.” She ducked into a café and took a seat at a dark booth. She breathed deeply. “I have curly brown hair and green eyes.”
“Mmm. I’m sure you’re enchanting. I would love to run my fingers through your curls, to feel them brush my face as you lean over me.”
Myka closed her eyes as she imagined doing just that. She cleared her throat which had gotten a little dry. “I read. Um, a lot actually.”
“That’s brilliant. Would you tell me something you’ve read?” Myka bit her lip, trying to think of something appropriate. She listened to the changes in the woman’s breathing, feeling a heat rise between her legs.
Oh, think not I am faithful to a vow!
Faithless am I save to love’s self alone.
Myka paused, unsure if she had chosen correctly. Her knowledge of lesbian literature was limited.
“Please go on.” The woman practically moaned. Could her voice get any sexier?
Myka’s voice changed, deepened, as she forgot her nervousness. The words flowed like silk through her lips as she focused on the woman’s excited exhalations.
Were you not lovely I would leave you now:
After the feet of beauty fly my own.
Were you not still my hunger’s rarest food,
And water ever to my wildest thirst,
Myka fought to keep her voice steady as the sounds from the other end increased in volume.
I would desert you — think not but I would! —
And seek another as I sought you first.
But you are mobile as the veering air,
And all your charms more changeful than the tide,
Myka had to stop; her breath was coming too fast. She glanced around to make sure no one could overhear her, wishing like hell she was at home; she had never been so turned on by someone’s voice.
“Don’t. Stop.” The words were ragged, breathing harsh. Myka could tell she was close.
Wherefore to be inconstant is no care:
I have but to continue at your side.
So wanton, light and false, my love, are you,
I am most faithless when I most am true.
Myka listened to the moaning in her ear. Imagined the woman touching herself, arching off the bed in pleasure. Imagined climbing on top of her, sucking a breast into her mouth, feeling her warmth surround her fingers.
“Come. Please. I want to hear you come.”
It was all she needed because her screams filled Myka’s ear, causing her to clamp a hand over the phone to keep the sound from carrying. Myka waited for her breathing to calm, squirming uncomfortably in her seat. A minute later, the woman laughed, a little embarrassed.
“Thank you darling. That was amazing.”
“Yeah, it was – yeah.”
“Mmm. Did you enjoy it?”
“Too much.” Myka answered quickly. “So, uh, I actually have to go. I’m late for work.”
“Oh, of course. I’m sorry for making you late.”
“No, no. It’s ok, believe me.” Myka paused. “Well, you have my number . . .”
-Poem from Four Sonnets by Edna St. Vincent Millay.