The Caller 06

Even though I do most of my work from home, I’ve got a small office in an office condo downtown from where I’m living, mainly to have a place to meet clients and store papers. It was a few days after my night out in Denver, when I was sitting there with a couple, going over the estimate of their property and what the best price to set it would be, when the phone rang again. THE phone. The OTHER phone, Missy’s phone. I stared at it for a moment, and then smiled at them embarrassed as I excused myself, having to take “an important call” and went, maybe a little too hurriedly, out into my entrance area, leaving them for a moment with the photos and numbers on my desk. My heart was beating harder than I had expected and I was still in an emotional upheaval from what I had done that night, what I had become, swinging from exuberant confidence in myself and my newfound sexual freedoms to crushing self-doubt and painful revision of my own self-image. “H-hello,” said a voice on the other end, that didn’t sound like Missy at all. “Uh, hi,” I answered. “Who is this?” “Ahm… you gave me your card, remember?” the voice said. “I’m Kaylee.” Kaylee, I thought. Was that the name of the girl on the train? Or the girl in the garden? “I… Kaylee, yes,” I replied, faking recognition. “What can I do for you?” She sighed deeply, sounding quite nervous and meek. “I just, ever since we… you know… met, I can’t get you out of my mind any more, and so I wondered if we could, like, meet somewhere, …

or something?” “Sure,” I said more confident now. “You want to come by or…?” “Uhm, I don’t have a car,” she said shyly. “Ah, no problem then,” I said smiling. “I can come by your place. What about in an hour?” I asked, checking my wrist watch. “Sure. Yes, that would be great,” she answered. “You know where it is still?” She must be the girl from the garden, since she was the only one whose place I’ve been at before. I probably still had that file around somewhere on the property next door I was selling at the time. “I’m sure I’ll find it again,” I said confidently. “Great,” she said relieved. “In an hour then.” I hung up and held the phone to my chest for a moment, breathing deeply. What am I getting myself into? And what am I getting that girl into? What was happening to me? I would have to contact Missy before that meeting, if only to see if she approved of me meeting with someone. Ten minutes later, and I had wrapped up the couple in my office, trying to get them out quickly so I had still time to get prepared and, hopefully, get another call. Just as they had left, I sent an email to Missy, telling her about the girl that called and asking what she thought about it. It didn’t take long for my phone to ring again. “So,” Missy said when I answered, “you found a little slut for yourself?” I paused, not knowing what to say. Was that what Kaylee was to me? I had no clue how to define our relationship; we only met once, briefly, after all. “Uh,” I said finally, “I… I don’t know. Actually, that’s why I wrote. What should I do with her?” Through the phone I heard her laugh. “Well, what do you want to do with her?” Missy asked. “This one is your slut, not mine.” “I… I kinda thought it… she… is ours,” I replied, confused and a little hurt that she didn’t think of us as a unit. “Hmm,” Missy said. “Maybe. But as part of your own training, you’ll now have to learn how to use someone yourself. Make her yours. Tell her what you want. Get her to do it. You might learn something about yourself, and maybe even about her.” She had hung up and I stared at the wall of my office with the phone still at my ear. Thinking about Missy, about Kaylee and about being with that girl and having her stirred something in me, and to my surprise I noticed that tingling sensation between my legs. I lifted them up on my desk as I was reclining my chair, starting to play with my clit as my mind was racing through all the possibilities, all the dirty, naughty things I wanted to do. Fuck her ass again, harder this time, with something bigger. My fingers moved to my own anus and slipped inside, giving me that stinging, stretched feeling. Fuck her pussy, I thought. Fuck her pussy hard, see how much she can take. I rubbed harder, faster, my labia starting to water as I moaned. And then tie her up, I imagined. Make her get down between my knees and just serve me there forever, with her mouth, her fingers, everything. To my own surprise, the thought made me cum, hard and …

loud, and I froze for a moment, listening intently if anyone was around who might have heard me. Finally, I put down my legs and straightened my clothes again, getting out of the office and into my car. I had found Kaylee’s address in my contacts and was parked in front of her house 30 minutes later. While I was still wondering if I should go out and ring the door, she suddenly came out, peeking at my car and walking over to it cautiously. When she could see me sitting inside, she smiled and waved. She looked good, better than I remembered her. Her hair was blonde now, and about shoulder long, falling down on a light blue jersey sweat jacket, matching her pants. She wore some pink tennis shoes with it and had a similarly pink handbag slung around her shoulder. I unlocked the door for her. “Hey,” she said quietly as she opened the door. “Can I get in?” “Sure,” I replied smiling. She climbed into the car and I slowly drove off. “So, where are we going?” she asked. I shrugged. “Well, you wanted to meet,” I answered. “I thought you might want to tell me first why.” She stared for a moment quietly ahead through the windshield. “I just…,” she started, then paused again. “What we did there, back in the garden,” she sighed, “I’ve never done anything. Never done anything like that with a woman. With anyone. I mean, I’ve had… boyfriends… but not like that. And I thought, maybe there could be more.” She looked at me sideways, smiling shyly. I drove quietly and slowly, just straight …
ahead but my mind was racing. I knew what I would want from that girl. I knew about some of my fantasies. But the one thing I didn’t know, the thing I tried to figure out and should have had figured out way before I picked her up, was: What role would I want to play with her? Who would I want to be in that relationship? We came to a halt at a stop light when a sudden calm came over me, and I began to speak not knowing where my words came from. “We’re women,” I said. “We’re women and we live our whole lives as women, but we still don’t know what it means to be a woman.” I turned my head and looked at her. “Maybe all we need is each other to figure it out. Maybe all we need is to come together, women, young and old, and figure out what we are.” She stared back surprised, not knowing what to make of it. “What do you mean?” she asked confused. “I mean, we always have someone else to tell us what we are. When we’re with a man, we look to him for guidance. When we’re out, society tells us, in no uncertain terms, even without words, what we’re supposed to be like. When we’re by ourselves, we’re still judging us through the eyes of others. Even now, here, between the two of us, you’re looking for me to tell you what we should do, and I’m waiting for you to explain a relationship, a mutual feeling, that maybe can’t be explained. And I want to find out what all of that is.” She nodded, slowly. “I think I understand,” she said. “Not, like, math or something. I think I feel the same …

way. Maybe everyone feels the same way? I don’t know, but yeah… I think I understand.” The light must’ve turned back to green but the angry honking of the cars behind us sounded far away and irrelevant as we looked into each other’s eyes. “Let’s make some rules, for this,” I said finally, remembering my relationship with Missy, remembering especially how her rules gave me some sense of security and reassurance. Rules were important, I had learned. Rules may be wrong or right, but they provide a fence, a balustrade, on which one can lean onto. Kaylee nodded. “Yes Ma’am,” she replied, her voice no longer that of a bored young girl, but of someone… different. I closed my eyes. “Number one,” I said. “No more underwear. You are to be prepared at all times.” “No more underwear,” she repeated. I opened my eyes and looked at her. “Well…” I said, expectantly. She stared back, her mouth slightly open, looking embarrassed out the window where cars passed us left and right. With shaking hands she unzipped her jacket and pulled up a t-shirt she was wearing underneath, trying to unhook her bra. “Number two,” I continued. “You are to keep a toy on you at all times.” “Always keep a toy on me,” Kaylee said, finally able to open the bra and started to strip it off, her small round breasts barely visible under the shirt. “Number three…” I paused. One and two were easy, they were Missy’s rules. What would my own be? Do as you’re told? Would that not make me her Missy? Would that not make me …

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