Edward ushered me in ahead of him and turned on the light.

It was a small studio apartment, immaculate, with very few personal objects. He took me to the sofa and then settled himself on the other end and looked at me.

“What?” I asked, smoothing my hair, wondering if I looked worse to him out of the dim light of the bar.

“I'm really into calling 900 numbers,” he said. “I think I'm almost addicted to phone sex.”

I was curious. “What's it like?” I asked. “I've never called one.”

“I don't talk to the same girl, but I always get off, listening,” he said.

I felt myself growing aroused, wetness dampening my panties. I thought for a moment, then said, “Do you have a second phone I could listen in... Read More