A/N 1: This chapter is a bit of a break from the gonad-rocking raunch, and hopefully it'll get more confusing for you. Chapter spoilers for: None.
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CHAPTER TWO: OPERATOR
"Hi Sweetie, what would you like tonight?"
"Um hi, uh, I don't have anything special in mind."
"Well, let me start by telling you about myself. I'm –"
"–Actually, I'd rather not – at least not right now. I just – I'm pretty easy to please. Just talk to me, I, um, I like the sound of your voice. Do you have, um, a standard…"
She interrupted him with a gentle, genuine-sounding laugh. "Vanilla or raunchy?"
"Um, vanilla? That means normal?"
"I don't use that word, but yeah. You like anything special? Young, threesomes, gay or trannie, unusual settings?"
"Nope, just – vanilla."
"You a sub?"
"A – NO!" She laughed again.
"OK, perfect. Tell me, Sweetie, where are you in the world?"
"New York City."
"New York New York! It nice out there?"
"Lonely."
"And what's your name, Sweetie?"
"Robert."
"Do you want to know my name? Or is there a name you'd like to call me?"
"Um – no."
"Aah. Well… you don't want to know my name or what I look like, but do you want to know what I'm wearing?"
He sighed and slid his hand into his pyjama bottoms. "Yes please. Only – just tell me the truth, OK? I don't want – I don't like hearing things that aren't true."
"I'll try my best…"
*****
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*****
Alex Eames sat at her desk staring at her partner. Not looking, not glancing, but staring. She couldn't help it – she couldn't take her eyes off him. Since he'd 'got his groove back' a few months ago, his sheer masculinity, coupled with his new, bigger girth and their incipient intimacy, made him pretty much irresistible to her day or night, rain or shine, work or not. And now that she actually knew what he was like, not just imagined, his ability to distract and captivate her had gotten worse, not better.
And he loved her! The dummy that she was, it wasn't until he'd bustled and manhandled her, trembling and teary-eyed, into her car and thence into his apartment and bed after the Mulrooney case that she'd had any inkling as to the depth of his feelings. His 'Alpha Gorilla' antics during and directly after that case had been a little intimidating, more than a little irritating, and deeply arousing to her, but it was only after he'd placed her in his bathroom with a very demure nightgown that he'd bought her and ordered her to shower, then put her into his bed with a glass of warm milk and brandy, then joined her wordlessly, still warm and damp from his own shower and clad in pyjamas, to hold her – protective and undemanding, that she realised what she had. His heart, his love. And she loved him back.
He'd come to her, or she to him, every night after. They'd not discussed romance or sex, but their intimacy progressed from embraces to kisses, then caresses, then to a gentle, passionate union that was a new beginning for them. In between work, their banal, but nevertheless much-desired domesticity, and his sure, deliberate caresses that never failed to take her wherever he led, they exchanged confessions of love and their desire for commitment.
It was amazing – more than she'd ever hoped for. But.
He didn't desire her. This much she knew. The deep passion that he brought to every aspect of his life – including their emotional intimacy – never showed itself in his physical reaction to her. Of course he was able to perform – there was no problem there! But his words and movements were restrained and measured, his body controlled, his mind sometimes distracted. He seemed to take little pleasure in looking at her or caressing her – he acted only for her benefit. He resisted her teasing or caressing him. There was no laughter in their lovemaking, no unrestrained actions of any kind. And they only made love in the dark, with her on top.
She wondered if it was the easy way they slid into intimacy, bypassing romance and seduction, that made her so boring to him. But she didn't think so. She just wasn't his type – never had been.
"Eames, what are you up to tonight?"
"The usual I guess, Bobby. You?"
"Um, I was thinking of dropping out to see Lewis. I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then?"
"Yup, that's the plan." She didn't mind having a night alone, and she liked the way Bobby was light and breezy about it. He'd drop by later if he changed his mind, which would be OK too.
---
Bobby lay on his sofa in jeans and a long-sleeved tee, toying with the idea of grabbing his car keys and hopping over to see Alex. It wasn't that he didn't want to see her – he wanted to see her every minute of every day – but he needed a break from the pretense. Just thinking that thought made him fairly cringe with shame, but there it was. He could feel the facts and realities surging up in his sub-conscious, and he knew he couldn't forestall it forever; but he could do it for one more night. He reached for the phone.
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"Your turn," she said with that laugh.
"What?"
"Tonight, you tell me what you want. You don't have to go into detail, just give me an outline. And I'll turn it into something special for you, I promise."
There was a long silence on the line, then…
"Are you going to do this, Robert?"
"Uh, I – I've never – I don't even know if…"
"Whatever it is, it's OK, Robert. Believe me, I've heard it all."
He told her, stammering nervously. When he finished, she was quiet a long time. Then…
"Okay. But why handcuffs?"
"They're, um, they're what's handy."
"Uh, OK," she laughed, a bit thinly he thought, "But you know they chafe, right? And they're a bitch to unfasten after."
He cringed in embarrassment and remorse. "No, actually, but I should. I'm sorry, this was a bad idea. You can just–"
"So how about nice soft velveteen ties, instead? I assume you can tie a quick-release knot?"
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"…and then, while I'm laughing so hard I can't see for the tears in my eyes, you slip my wrists into the velvet ties at the head of the bed."
Robert Goren closed his eyes and tried not to pant too hard into the phone. The image of her, writhing and screaming with laughter and his captive to do what he wanted with, had him harder and more aroused than he'd ever been in his whole life. He couldn't even touch the head of his penis, he was that close. He squeezed the shaft with one hand and his sac with the other, and tried to keep from ending it all with one quick twist of his fingers.
"…and I'm still laughing so hard I can barely get the words out to order you to let me go, and I'm trying to knee you, but you just kneel under my bottom and hold my legs. And I'm so wet that my pussy is just gliding back and forth on your belly, and with my arms over my head, my breasts are thrust out and begging you to touch them. You lean down to kiss me hard, while you squeeze and knead my breasts. Then you lean back and put my legs over your shoulders, and you begin to lick and suck my pussy. I'm so close, I cum with just a few swipes of your tongue, and then I think you're going to release me. But you just keep licking me, and stroke your fingers in and out of me, and I'm begging you to stop – I've never cum twice, I can't stand the sensations. But you just ignore me and I can feel the pressure building, I'm so much more sensitive, and when I cum again I can't help screaming and I spray all over your face. I'm actually crying, it feels so good, and before I know it you've untied me and you're buried deep inside me. You're grinding your hips into me, and you have all your weight on me, and I'm hugging and kissing and biting and scratching every inch of you that I can reach. We're both sweating, and crying, and when you cum in me with a groan, we both collapse.
Robert did cum with a groan, without even touching himself, the moment she said in that sweet, sexy voice that she cried after she climaxed the second time. He listened with tears in his eyes to her telingl him the rest of his fantasy.
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"I missed you tonight, Bobby."
"I missed you, too."
"You sound sleepy."
"I'm very relaxed. I love you."
"I love you too. Night."
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A/N 2: No spoilers for this chappie, but there is one very oblique reference and some big hints. Anyone who guesses right gets either a limerick or a senryu.