Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 102903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
“What are your feet doing, Ruby?”
“Uh . . . my feet are still rubbing up and down . . .” I pause and lean over my desk to look at my notebook. “Your big schlong.”
“My schlong loves your feet, baby. God, it loves your feet,” he whispers. “Slide one of those perfect feet up my chest so I can suck on your toes.”
Monica passes the note back, her message scribbled just below mine.
Yeah. Want to get lunch?
I glance at my cell phone for the time before giving a thumbs-up that makes Monica jump up and down and clap in a cute fit of joy. I never expected to find a friend here, but from what I’ve seen so far, my cubby mate is actually fairly normal. Over the past couple of days, she’s shared pieces of her life that make me see her in a whole new light. Monica is a premed student at Belmont University, driven and laser focused on her goals. She’s been saving every penny she can to graduate debt-free and set herself up for success in med school—a plan that shows just how resourceful and determined she is.
She’s got a sweet face and a tiny little button nose, and I wish more than anything neither one of us was desperate enough to be working here.
Monica takes her seat across the aisle, and I focus my energy on getting through the rest of Randy’s needs. Busy is good, seeing as it means money, but a little break from all the rubbing and jerking and sucking is needed after the twenty calls I’ve already taken today.
My well of sex creativity is really starting to dry up. Pretty sure I need some carbs or something.
“Randy, I don’t think my toes want to leave your big juicy sausage,” I whisper, scanning my notes again. “My feet are total sluts for your thick banana hammock.”
“My what?”
Maybe don’t use food metaphors for penis until you actually understand them . . .
“Your big cock,” I quickly correct myself, wincing as I spot Margo Mavis walking through the aisle between cubicles, her eyes pointed my way. “My feet just love your big cock so much, Randy. They can’t stop rubbing all over it. If they could talk, they’d be saying, ‘Yes, Big Cock Daddy.’”
The line goes silent for a beat longer than I expected, but in a twist of luck, despite how out of my depth I truly am, Randy leans into the suggestion.
“What else would your feet say if they could talk?” Randy questions, his voice rushed with excitement all over again.
“They’d say, ‘More, Big Cock Daddy,’” I whisper in the most seductive voice I can manage with Margo standing directly over me and waiting. “‘More. More. More.’”
I know for a fact my feet wouldn’t be saying any of this, but if it makes Randy come, that’s all that matters.
“And what else?” he asks, strangely into the toe talk.
“They’d say . . .” I pause and look up at the ceiling as I try to come up with something come worthy. “They’d say . . . ‘Oh my. You’re getting so big and hard. You’re almost too big for us to rub on you . . .’”
“Yes,” he grunts into my ear.
I cross my fingers as I listen closely through the receiver, hoping that Randy is about to bring it on home. When he starts breathing erratically, I keep going. “They’d say, ‘Come, Randy. Come all over our cute toes!’ They’d say, ‘We’re so horny for your semen.’”
“You have such dirty little toes.” Randy pants. “Such dirty little slut toes.”
“Uh-huh,” I agree, switching gears to let them do the talking. “‘All ten of us are dirty little whores. We’re the whoriest toes in all the land!’”
“I’m gonna come all over you!” Randy shouts.
“‘Do it! Do it! Do it!’” I pretend a crowd of ten whorey toes is yelling for Randy.
“Fuck! Yes!” Randy chants. “I’m coming! I’m coming!”
“Shoot it everywhere!” I cheer him on. “To the windows and the walls!”
“Fuuuck!” he bellows, and then the line goes completely quiet besides the sound of Randy’s heavy breaths.
“Great job, Randy,” I congratulate him, moving the call right along to my favorite part. I’m in a rush normally, but with Margo standing over me, I’m feeling even more gung ho for a dead line. “And thanks for calling Ruby’s line and letting me make your dreams come true. Call me anytime!”
“Wait, Ruby—” Randy starts to say, but I’ve got zero time to waste.
“Bye, Randy!” I talk right over him and quickly click the receiver into its base, switching my line to the “off duty” setting Margo showed me my first day.
Phew. Thank freaking heck that’s over.
I pull my headset off to rest it around my neck and look up at Margo. “Everything okay?”
“Come with me,” she says simply, looking anything but happy. Monica glances at me with wide eyes as I stand and follow Margo out of my cubicle and down the aisle, and I throw a shrug to her over my shoulder. Looks like our little lunch plans are going to be delayed.