My Secret Fantasy

I worked in an office where the overflow of phone calls were all directed to me. Secretary or receptionist was not my title, nor was it in my job description. I didn't mind at all though, taking messages for the supervisors and scheduling meetings, answering questions intended for them, or solving problems they were supposed to solve, but were unavailable to do so. It gave me a feeling of pride that I knew the answers, that I was able to handle the extra duties in addition to my own responsibilities. It also gave me a chance to talk with those I'd never been able to talk with otherwise. Also, I secretly reveled in the added knowledge I had that was privy to supervisors. I didn't flaunt it, but I must admit that I carried the air and attitude that I knew something nobody else in my realm of people knew.

There goes the phone again! It's month end and always the busiest to make our numbers. It seems the phone never stops ringing when I'm the busiest. Again, I don’t mind! Being busy helps the day to pass. I really loved my job and I think people knew it.

"Hi, this is Joe. Is Frank available?" I am asked.

"Oh, hi Joe! I'm sorry, but he is out on the floor," I replied. "Would you like his voice mail or I could take a message for you or maybe I could help you?"

"Well, do you know if the rush order for Branch 430 has been loaded yet? They want to add an item, if it's not too late."

I took down all the information, the order number, the item and quantity they wanted added to the order, and the extension number to return my results to. I searched the computers for the information I needed. As I had figured, the order had already been loaded, but it looked like it was loaded recently. If I could find the order, I could pull it off the truck, open the box and add what needed to be added. Off I went in the trailer to find the order. To my amazement, I found it rather quickly. I pulled the product, packed it up with another package, resealed it and sent it off on its way.

To be honest, there is no way anyone else would have gone through the trouble. The order was already loaded and considered shipped. I called Joe back and told him of his good fortune, his request had been granted. Of course, I had to let him know what needed to be done on my end and that I went the extra mile to satisfy a customer in need. A billing only order was created and inventory was adjusted. Another problem solved.

On went my day, solving one problem or another. Always, the caller on the other end of the phone had an emergency or a crisis. This order needs to be stopped, the customer decided at the last minute to pick up the order and it has to be pulled off the truck, a customer lost his power and needs a rush order sent out before the trucks leave or he will be closed down. Whatever it was, it was always an emergency and the caller was always urgent and rushed.

My phone rang again. To my surprise, the caller was very soft spoken, kind and gentle, identifying himself as Bob and looking again, for my supervisor, Frank. His voice seemed to lull me into a trance. I hung on his every syllable. I found myself talking to him as much as possible, just so I could listen to his calming voice. There was no urgency in his requests, no demands, no customers on the verge of crumbling. He was simply calling to get some information. Once he conversation was over and the receiver back on the hook, I could only stare for a moment and try to regain my breath. Why did it seem that I was just hypnotized by this mans voice?

And so it went, week after week and month after month. The routine was much the same. With every call, I anticipated the hypnotizing call from Bob. He was always such a pleasure to talk to, his voice lulling my into a daze. It did not matter what kind of a day I was having, he always seemed to make it better with the calmness and softness of his voice. If I were to ever call a 900 line, I would expect the voice on the other end to mimic his.

Then there came a time for me to move on. I began interviewing for other positions within the company. It didn't seem to matter what job I interviewed for, there was always something that was against me. The hours were wrong, there wasn't enough money, someone more qualified was picked for the job, and on it went. One day, I was scheduled for yet, another interview. I had all but lost my confidence and was going for the mere routine of it all. I was called back for a second interview. The interview was set up with the infamous Bob. My palms were sweaty, I was nervous, my heartbeat racing. I would be face to face with the man whose mere voice could calm the rough sea of my day. What would he look like? What would he think of me?

I was led to a small conference room where we would meet. I sat there and waited for him, barely breathing, sweat forming on my brow, and my fingers nervously dancing in the air. I had chosen my outfit wisely, or so I thought. I kept second guessing myself. Was my hair in place, did I have lipstick on my teeth, did I develop a run in my stockings, and most importantly, would I make a fool out of myself?

When he walked in and introduced himself, I could only stare. How is it God could grace one man with a voice to calm a raging river, and the looks to silence the roaring winds? He was tall and thin, light hair, his body was shielded from the covers of his clothing but appeared to be divine, and the most captivating aspect of all, his riveting blue eyes. They seemed to swim in an ocean of blue. They are the eyes I could lose myself in for hours, and never tire of looking at them. He smiled at me (as was customary when meeting someone new), stretched out his hand to shake mine in a greeting, and I felt my knees wobble. I quickly recovered, hopefully quickly enough so he did not even notice.

About a month later, I was working for the man that coveted my fantasies and worked his way into my dreams by just the sound of his voice. Meetings were difficult, for as he stood there and spoke in front of the group, I could only stare. His eyes always took me to a far away place where there was no reality. Could he feel me staring at him? Could he sense the desire in my gaze? Did he sense my hunger or read the offer my body gave him? Could he see my nipples harden, my breath run short, or the chills run over my body?

How could I go on working like this? This man has become my idol, my sex god, my vision of perfection. I knew I could never have him, but I also knew that my dreams and fantasies were mine alone, and nobody could take that away from me. And that was how I had to live my life. By day, we had a work relationship as we strived for the same long term goal. By night, he became my lover, even if only in my dreams.

One night, we were together, on a sailboat on the ocean. Water was all around us for miles and miles. The sun was high in the sky as we basked in glory on the upper deck. Walking around naked, soaking in the warmth of the sun, sipping cocktails, and listening to the water hit the side of the boat. There was no better place to be. I could not keep my hands to myself. I had to caress his curves, touch his flesh, and taste his body. I wanted to make him moan and desire me as much as I did him. Our lips meet and tongues collide. A tight knot in my stomach tightens even more as heat rushes through my body. I feel like I’m melting. His arms are wrapped around me, holding my body close to his. I can feel his heart racing just as my own feels like it will beat right out of my chest. My hands slide down to his ass as if they have a mind of their own, pulling him even closer to me, letting him know I am hot and wet for him. I think I will burst, I need to feel this man deep inside of me, the ache in my center is so strong. How is it possible that pure desire could cause an ache that only he could ease? As if on cue, he fills me and gives me exactly what I need. The thrusting becomes faster and harder, our breathing more labored, my body searching for the fulfillment only he can provide. With a final thrust and a deep throated moan, he opens my flood gates as his own release follows.

I know one thing, if ever given the chance, I will show that man just how much he really turns me on. Chances are, we will always be together in my fantasies, and nothing more.