Fantasies Of A Phone Sex Operator by Annabel Bastione

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Fantasies Of A Phone Sex Operator

(Annabel Bastione)


Fantasies of a Phone Sex Operator

"Like the boss says, it's the whole experience! You've gotta know when to play nice, and when," she breaks into a small smile, "to talk dirty."

I turn in mild curiosity to see who's shooting her mouth off. As usual, it's Nina sharing her own experiences and giving the new girl a lil' impromptu coaching on job.

The new girl says nothing, suddenly finding the floor very interesting as the world watches her blush a bright red. Nina means well, despite her insensitivity.

Ignoring further idle talk around the water cooler, I glide past the pantry door and head towards my 'office'. Some girls walk by. Most of them smile and nod, some even say 'hi', and one or two flat out pretend I'm not even there. Not that I blame them of course, in my line of work, sometimes it's better if less people know who you actually are.

My eyes scan the row of the same unassuming wooden paneled doors down the empty corridor. The pink ribbon tied round the doorknob is mine. Bingo. Soon enough I'm right where I need to be, behind that door, snug in my office, ready to take a call or two.

The lights are dimmed just enough to maintain a cozy feeling. A rack of visual material hangs out in the corner with almost every type of naughty publication legally available in the state. Playboy, Hustler, Penthouse, even the smaller fetish type magazines all have shelf space reserved for them. It's my library for whenever I need to do some 'research'. On the other side of the room the shiny black plastic of a flat screen television hooked up to a VHS, a CD/DVD player, an Xbox 360 with Netflix enabled catches my eye. The shelf of adult tapes, CDs and whatnot next to that provides another research angle to my job and my clients.

Of course, as I sit at my desk, reclining in my cushion swivel chair, I turn on the laptop in front of me with the press of the button. If all the material the agency provides fails me as a fantasy provider, I'll always have the internet.

The laptop starts up faster than I expected and soon enough I find myself logging onto Facebook via Google Chrome (thank God for incognito!). Lest I get distracted by what all my 'friends' are posting on their walls, I start up the super special secret call channeling program. I log in and soon enough, the usual "You've got a caller!" pop-up flashes itself across the laptop screen.

I take a moment to close my eyes, drawing in the cool air-conditioned office draft with a deep breath. The aroma of hot coffee that I've set on the table tempts me. I guess one sip won't hurt.

The freshness of this morning's roast beans, stirred in the pot of a hi-tech coffee mixer tantalizes my taste buds as I gulp it down. I perk up almost instantaneously, fresh and ready to dream up some dirty fantasies.

Now I don't know about other agencies, but I think that while I don't get to set my own hours, nor do I get paid as much, I look around me at the creature comforts and work aids that have been afforded to me and find myself thankful to have a nice working environment and pretty entertaining work to boot.

I put on my headset and fiddle with the attached mic till it's an inch away from my mouth, leaning back in the comfortable chair at the same time.