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Friday, 9 August 2019

Call Girl


Call Girl (or how telephone sex is not as good as it’s cracked up to be)

I’m a great fan of online banking,
And I use it to manage accounts.
But last week I ran into a problem -
On the screen were the wrong amounts.

So seeking to sort this problem at once,
To the bank’s Call Centre I rang.
I listened to music for minutes,
As on the phone I was forced to hang.

Then a recorded voice quite sharply said:
“Press 1 for this, and press 2 for that”.
So I worked my way through the options,
Trying not to feel like a prat.

My digits blazed over the keypad,
Pressing this, pressing that, and then you
Think you’ve finished at last,
But there’s always one more menu.

At last I got to where I wanted,
After this long game of hide and seek
For it was just with a human being,
That I desperately wanted to speak.

At last came a female voice quite confident -
I wasn’t trying to be choosy.
She asked if she could help me,
And told me her name was Susie.

I stumbled through with my problem,
But really I hadn’t much of a choice.
I’d become all kind of nervous, you see,
Seduced by the sound of her voice.

So began my fantasies & questions:
I went right through the book.
Was she young, and was she pretty?
In fact, how good did she look?

I started to imagine for myself:
What was the colour of her hair?
For her voice was so gentle,
I decided she had to be fair.

Could I ever get to know this girl?
I could feel my cheek starting to heat.
Could we take this relationship further,
And arrange somewhere cosy to meet?

I wanted to take this thing off-line:
I felt that she was waiting to be whirled,
Away from her Call Centre employment,
To something more solid in the real world.
  
She carried on talking, working her script.
She was a mistress of her profession.
She was confident & well-drilled.
Would she listen to my confession?

She worked her way through my problem,
But the solution had started to vex.
Did a one-sided fantasy like this,
Count as telephone sex?

I wanted to keep her talking, you see,
And try to keep her involved.
I felt we needed to build up some rapport,
So I brought up new things to be solved.

Her voice was so delightful & sexy,
But always in command, never a fall-girl.
I wanted this to go on and on,
To take things further, with my dear call-girl.

Her accent betrayed nothing at all,
But she seemed like an English rose.
I’d no idea where she was,
But she certainly felt very close.

Eventually, I screwed up my courage,
And asked her if there could ever be more.
That’s when she said it was against the rules,
And besides, she was talking from Bangalore.

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2019

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