Wakeup Call

Emma stared longingly at the phone on the counter in front of her. Around her, the early afternoon shoppers milled about the department store’s various counters, thankfully not approaching hers. She was far too distracted to harp on the virtues of night replenishing cream.
Every cell in her body ached to pick up the phone and ring Lana. She needed to have that honey and gravel voice again ricocheting through her head again. Lana invaded Emma’s thoughts to such an extent she was rendered useless, standing there at work staring fixedly at the phone like she was awaiting a call from God.
Two months ago she would have scoffed if anyone said she would feel this way, but two months ago Lana was just a name her friends mentioned sometimes.
The phone rang, jarring Emma’s nerves and sending her heart pounding. Had Lana somehow sensed her longing from her apartment across town?
‘Good afternoon, Ashton’s beauty department. Emma speaking.’
The voice that responded was more acid and metal than honey and gravel, and enquired after some imported cleansing lotion. Emma dealt with the query and hung up, barely able to believe the resentment she felt towards the customer for not being Lana.
That was it. There was no point denying the urge to make the phone call; it was not going to simply go away by itself. She glanced around surreptitiously; no one was heading for her counter, so she picked up the receiver and dialled Lana’s number.
‘Hello?’ the voice was huskier than usual.
‘It’s Emma. I’m ringing from work.’
‘Hi, honey,’ Lana answered lazily. ‘You woke me up. I was just in the middle of a wonderful dream where I was Angelina Jolie’s erotic maidservant. I seem to recall a lot of knives.’
‘Sorry,’ Emma murmured. ‘I thought you’d be up by now.’
‘It’s all right, baby. What can I do for you?’ The insinuation had an instant effect; Emma felt a jolt in go straight to her clit, and her nipples hardened under her white cotton bra and regulation crisp white shirt. She crossed her free arm over her chest, certain people would notice.
She took a deep breath; this was totally wrong, and if anyone even suspected what she was about to do, she’d be fired on the spot.
‘I was hoping you’d play with me,’ she whispered into the mouthpiece. ‘I can’t stop thinking about your body, and the thought of fucking you is making my knickers wet. They’re sensible cotton knickers, the type my mother would approve of. Except I don’t think she’d approve of this.’
She was rewarded with a throaty laugh.
‘That’s delicious. I can see it now; the eager-to-please baby dyke beauty consultant with a head full of dirty thoughts and panties full of juice. What would your rich, middle-age customers think if they knew you were a raving pervert?’
Emma was warming to the game. There was unadulterated thrill in watching people wander past oblivious to her arousal.
‘They’d probably be aroused,’ she said. ‘Maybe it’d let loose all those fantasies they hide away behind their bridge club and hair appointments.’
‘Maybe they’d think you’re a dirty slut.’
‘Maybe. I’m definitely a dirty slut when I climb onto your lap and start kissing you, running my fingers through your hair and pressing my crotch against your stomach, grinding it against you so you can feel how aroused I get just from being near you.’
Emma heard Lana catch her breath, and allowed herself a smile that was one part triumph and three parts arousal. ‘I like to tangle my fingers in your long red hair, then close my fist around a handful and yank it so your head snaps back and your eyes widen in surprise. You’re even more beautiful when you’re immobilised and don’t know what to expect, you know that? Your throat’s exposed when I do that, and I understand vampirism completely when I kiss and suck and bite your translucent skin, leaving pale red marks that slowly fade as I turn my attention to your breasts.’
Lana moaned, softly but tellingly. Emma imagined her sitting on the side of her bed, legs apart, pressing the receiver to her ear with one hand and touching herself with the other. Her breathing became harsh and jagged at the thought.
‘I raise your breasts, soft and full, and stroke your nipples with my thumbs. They respond wonderfully, hardening and extending.’
‘Suck them,’ Lana moaned. ‘Suck my nipples.’
Emma glanced around her, then acquiesced, murmuring into the phone. Lana began to pant heavily, and Emma pictured her rubbing herself into a frenzy, ready to come at any moment. She knew what would get her there.
‘I’m going to lick your cunt, Lana.’
She heard a sharp intake of breath.
‘I climb off your lap and you watch me like a hawk, unsure of what I’m going to do, but hoping all the same.
‘I spread your legs and lie between them, breathing lightly on your vulva. You tremble and tilt your head back. I start caressing you with my tongue, savouring your taste and silkiness.’
Emma paused to hear Lana’s breathing and the little moans that escaped her mouth without her realising. Emma’s own breathing hammered in time with Lana’s, and she turned her back on the store to give herself as much privacy as possible. Her head swam; Lana’s arousal was electrifying.
‘You writhe against me and I gather your clit in my mouth and suck it hard.’
‘I’m gonna come!’ Lana gasped, and immediately let out a series of grunts. Emma could hear her thrashing on the bed. She waited, still with her back to the store, for Lana to recover.
‘That was wonderful,’ Lana murmured when she had her breath back.
Emma smiled. ‘Glad you enjoyed yourself. But I should go. I don’t want to get sprung making personal calls during work time. Especially not this personal.’
Lana laughed and they said their goodbyes. Emma hung up and stood leaning dizzily against the counter. Her cunt cried out for release. She licked her lips and ran her mind over the conversation, considering what tonight’s visit with Lana might bring.
Unconsciously, her hand moved to the front of her skirt and pressed in against her vulva. She could just manage to stimulate her clitoris. She let out a small moan.
‘Excuse me?’ said a voice behind her. She jumped and turned to see an impatient-looking woman at the counter. The woman’s gaze met hers knowingly as she asked to try some moisturiser.
Oh, god, what had she heard?