The Phone Call (FFF)

Flash Fiction Friday!

Required phrase - "Answer it"

Forbidden words - orgasm

Word Length - 661

Ex. Credit - Tell us who's calling

The phone rang. Angie groaned in annoyance and nudged Mason, “You’d better answer it.  If I do, it could be the end of the world as you know it.”

“Ignore it,” he said in a sleepy and unworried way, “She’ll give up soon enough.”

But it kept ringing. Ten, eleven, twelve times.

“I think you are the last person on the planet without an answering machine,” Angie mocked Mason’s old-fashioned ways whenever she had the chance.

“Or a cell phone,” he added. “It’s easier to hide that way.”

“But doesn’t it drive her crazy?” she asked.

“Sure. That’s why she lets it ring twenty times and then calls back every ten minutes for an hour just to be sure I wasn’t just on the porch having a smoke or in the bathroom.”

After a short break, the phone began to ring again.

“Ugh. She’s like a stalker, Mason. You should do something about it. Really.  Just pick up the phone and tell her to fuck off.” Angie lost her lady-like ways when the sun went down. “Doesn’t she sleep at night like the rest of us?”

“Yes, my dear. She does, but she’s across the ocean and she’s probably having coffee right now - having forgotten that we’re in completely different time zones.”

Fourteen rings later, there was another rest, before it started in for a third time.

“Your neighbors are going to freak out, Mason. Really...answer the goddamn phone. Or I will. And she’s not going to like that.”

Mason rolled over on top of her, reached over to the nightstand and took the phone from its cradle. “Shhh....” he mouthed to her.

He held the phone as he rolled to Angie’s side and began to circle her breast with the receiver. She gasped at the feel of cold plastic on her skin, and he motioned for her silence again.

They could both hear the voice on the other end, “Mason? Mason, is that you? Can you hear me? Hello? Hellooooo....”

He began to circle the other breast, and then ran it down between her thighs, teasing her lips apart until the plastic met her clitoris.  The voice on the other end grew muffled, and Angie whispered in a flustered sort of way, “Mason...what the fuck?  What are you doing?” 

“Introducing you to my mother, dear...what does it look like?”

“Like you’re fucking me with a phone.”

“I’m not fucking you, yet.”

“He pulled the phone back up from under the covers and placed it on the pillow beside Angie’s head.”

“She’ll think she got the wrong number. Go ahead and say whatever you want, as long as it isn’t my name...”

And with that, Mason rolled back over on to Angie’s body, spread her legs with his knees, and entered her with ease, despite her weak protests.

A rush of air left Angie’s lungs and came out in a moan - the kind that assured him the phone had left her mind completely.

“Mason?! Are you alright, dear? Are you hurt? Should I call the police?”

Angie tuned out the stream of questions exiting the receiver as Mason pressed into her.

“God, yes!  Holy mother of God, I love the way you fuck me...Jesus H. fucking Christ!"

The line went silent. Followed by a dial tone.

“I don’t think my mother approves of your naughty little mouth.”

“But you do, don’t you Mason?”

“Indeed, I do. However, I might have forgotten to mention that my mother became a nun when I left for college. Your choice of expletives was utterly perfect, dear."

Angie began to giggle uncontrollably. "Does she have any idea you lead the life that you do?"

"There's no reason to upset her, Angie."

"Will I ever get to really meet her?" It was a loaded question, and Angie knew it.

"Best to simply leave things to God. But, considering how many times you called out to Him, I'm assuming you're easily as religious as she is. I'm sure you'd get on famously."