I remember the first time I heard it. The voice on the other end – you – timid, unsure, but undeniably turned on.

“I…I can’t believe I’m actually doing this,” you stammered, and I felt a shiver down my spine. I’d heard it all before, of course. The shy first-timers, the desperate ones, the ones who got off on knowing someone was listening. But there was something different about you.

As an operator, it’s my job to stay silent, to be invisible. But I couldn’t help the way my body reacted to your voice, your words dripping with lust. I wanted to moan, to touch myself right then and there. But I had to be professional.

“So, what can I do for you tonight?” I purred, my voice low and husky. Even I could hear the arousal in it.

You told me then, in graphic detail, what you wanted. What you needed. And as you spoke, I felt myself growing wet. The things you described, the way you needed to be dominated, to be told what to do…it was like you could see into my darkest fantasies.

I had to bite my lip to keep from making a sound as you came, your breaths heavy and ragged in my ear. When you finally hung up, I couldn’t move. My pussy was throbbing, my clit aching to be touched.

Slowly, I reached for my toy. I turned it on, low, as I replayed your voice in my head. “Fuck, just like that,” I moaned softly, picturing you on the other end, stroking yourself to thoughts of me. “Come for me. Show me how much you need it.”

As I came, hard and fast, I knew I’d never forget you, or the effect your voice had on me. Maybe it was wrong, but I couldn’t wait for you to call again. For the chance to be your secret, your filthy little fantasy.

And as I cleaned up and went back to work, I smiled to myself. They had no idea what really went on behind the scenes.