She propped her feet up on the coffee table and took in the scenery outside the window; rain fell in whispering sheets. She had a cup of tea on the end table by her head, and an old issue of the New Yorker between her knees. She reached lazily behind her for the cup, and pulled a jar of honey from the floor beside the couch. Slowly, she twisted the lid until it unstuck, and dipped the spoon she had been using to hold her place in the magazine into it. She swirled the spoon through the honey, momentarily hypnotized as the thick substance coated it. Then, she pulled the spoon out of the jar, and plunged it back in again, breaking the surface tension once, twice, three times. Carefully twisting the spoon as she pulled it out of the jar for the final time, she dipped in gently into her tea, breathing in the warm, pomegranate-scented mist rising from the surface. She never put too much honey in her tea; just enough to give it a rumor of sweetness and a hint of cloudiness.
She had called in sick today for the second day in a row (headache, sick of job). She wasn't really sick, but maybe she thought that laying on the couch drinking pomegranate tea and reading the New Yorker might convince her sufficiently enough that she wouldn't think about the real reason she had called in again.
The phone rang.
She didn't know his name; all she knew about him was that he sold home security systems for some company she couldn't remember the name of, and that he had wanted to sell her one yesterday. It was his voice—something about its smooth timbre that matched the honey coating the back of her spoon—something about her headache, whose dull throbbing had finally eased, thanks to Aleve, and had now settled in places farther south. She heard the voice of the telephone solicitor selling home security systems for a fair price, and she wanted to fall into it a stay awhile. She wanted to talk back to him, but not about how much she wanted what he was selling. She heard his voice that first time, and somehow, she needed it to get her off. Deftly, she slid down on the barstool she had fallen onto when she answered the phone, and worked her free hand between the elastic of her pajama bottoms and her naked hips.
"I know you'll get in trouble with your boss, so just pretend I'm fascinated by home security systems. I'm asking lots of intelligent questions, and you're just answering them in great detail. Ok?"
She was aware of an audible swallow on the other end of the line, and grinned. This was going to be fun. The skin on her arms flushed and prickled with goosebumps at the same time. She had never done anything like this before, and had worried that he would hang up on her. But instead, he delighted her by taking up the act right away, with almost no hesitation.
"The basic model offers superior protection against unauthorized intrusions—"
"—But you authorized this intrusion, didn't you? You sound like you drive a lot of women crazy with that voice, and I just wanted to see what it would do to me."
"—Yes, well, that is the standard—"
"—You want to know what's not standard? It's not standard how wet you made me the instant I heard your voice. I bet you have an amazing tongue." She reached for the honey jar. "I was putting honey in my tea when you called." She unscrewed the lid, dipped in a finger. "Let me tell you what I'm doing with the honey now."
"The keypad also illuminates in the dark, for extra ease in arming or disarming the system—"
"—I'm putting the honey on my nipples right now. I wish you were here to suck on them. " She put the finger in her mouth and swirled her tongue over the tip, licking the heavy sweetness from her skin.
"I'm sucking on my finger now, and imagining it's you inside my mouth. I bet you're thick and sweet, just like this honey." For a moment, she felt him almost surrender and break their hot little charade. She heard his breath hitch, and a small sound from his throat, halfway between a hum and a moan, made her even wetter. She shifted slightly in her seat, feeling herself throb, moisture saturating the back of her decidedly unsexy pajamas. She slid them down her thighs with one hand, and pulled them off, flinging them onto the couch. That was much better. Meanwhile, the solicitor seemed to compose himself, and continued answering her unasked questions.
"—The deluxe system, on the other hand, is extremely sensitive to motion, and will react to a mere turn of a knob, or vibration in the doorframe, whereas the standard model requires that the door or window actually be completely breached for it to react."
She now had her knees drawn up by her ears, feet planted on the seat, legs spread wide. She moved her hand down and gave a moan of her own. "I'm touching my clit right now, running my fingers up and down my pussy. I wish you were here to feel how wet I am." She could hear in his breathing that he was about to lose control. "Talk to me," she panted. "Keep talking to me."
"About what?" His mounting arousal had obviously caused him to forget their charade.
"Just keep talking about your fancy burglar alarms. I need to hear your voice so bad." She began working herself harder with her free hand, bracing herself against the barstool, alternating between lightly tapping and rubbing her clitoris. "I want to hear more about how the system responds during unauthorized intrusions."
He was barely capable of speech at this point, but somehow kept talking. "Well, when a door or window is breached, or the motion sensor is tripped, the device will emit a high-pitched beeping for twenty seconds. If the alarm is not disabled by punching in the code during that time, the alarm will sound."
"Mmmm," she moaned, rocking slightly, as her hand migrated north until it found her tingling nipple. She pinched one hard, then the other, feeling her clit respond as if suddenly electrified. "I'm getting so close already. I know you would love it if I put my fingers inside myself right now. I'm sure you won't get in trouble for just saying a number, so tell me: how many fingers should I use?"
His voice was nothing more than a hoarse, tormented whisper, but it was still the sexiest thing she had ever heard.
"Three?" That's ambitious, but I think I can do it. You've gotten me plenty wet already." She moved her hand away from her nipple, but not after giving it one more good tweak. She gasped as she parted herself roughly with her thumb and index finger, then sighed as she slid the first three fingers of her hand into her hot opening. Wet was an understatement; her folds were manufacturing fluid by this point, and her fingers were quickly coated in the slippery viscosity of her desire. She turned her palm upward and thrust her fingers deeper, seeking the plane of slippery ridges, her G-spot, while her thumb came up from below to continue massaging her clit. Her heart was racing, and she felt a single drop of sweat make its way down her back.
"So, if I came home late, and my alarm started this beeping, you're saying I have twenty seconds to turn it off because it thinks I'm an unauthorized intrusion? What if I don't want to turn it off? What if I like it to make noise? She reached back and pressed her fingers hard into the spongy tissue of her G-spot. This was it. She could feel herself begin to come before she opened her mouth, to let loose the sounds she hadn't made in so long. Gasping and jerking, she nearly dropped the phone as kaleidoscopic shards of sensation assaulted her, centering first on her clit, then moving quickly outward like the ripples in a lake after a stone is thrown, heating up and pulsing in time with her own high-pitched wails and frantic obscenities.
"Fuck...oh, fuck, I wish you were here so you could come all over my nipples while I'm coming right now. "Oh....oh..." Her moans trailed off as she felt herself begin to come down. Her sexy-voiced new friend didn't miss a beat.
"Well, since I couldn't convince you that you need this system this time, I think I'll be making you a regular call on my schedule from now on. Maybe I can offer you some extra incentives to make up your mind."
Slowly, she pulled her fingers out of herself; they made a soft sucking noise as they released, and she was reminded once again of the spoon in the honey jar. She shivered.
"I look forward to talking to you again soon. And just to let you know, your intrusions are always welcome."