The Call Ch. 01: Introducing Frank

Asian

I was hoping to get home early. Take a shower, blow dry my hair, do my makeup. I could not wait to put on my new dress, though I still felt weary at the thought of the new heels my friend had insisted on making me buy to complete the ensemble. I had been looking forward to the party all week. Responsible girl that I am, I had been studying relentlessly for my finals and I had just submitted my final paper when I got “The Call”.

“The Call” is what has been happening ever since my boyfriend got his dream internship. It was another case of “Babe, I’m so sorry! I won’t be back until tomorrow so I’m going to have to pass on tonight. Again. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Paul, that’s his name, is a fellow senior in his final year of mechanical engineering. A professor of his, who also consulted with a large and successful mining company had made him his protégé. This meant he worked with him on developing a new arm for some drilling mechanism… To be honest, I never pay too much attention to the details. My father found the work fascinating. At least he did that one time they met.

Engineers are abundant in my family, from a handful of cousins to my father and uncles who are computer and electronic engineers. Some of my cousins who are more artsy are architects and industrial designers, but that’s as far as anyone strays. So when I declared my major to be literature after I had forced myself through two rounds of calculus and basic Physics, my mother begged me to at least consider a career in administration or economics.

My mother is an accountant. No matter that she had once wanted to be a journalist, she bowed down to parental pressure and pursued a career in accounting. Her father had been a mechanical engineer, which made my mom think he would have loved my new boyfriend. They had been curious to meet him ever since my sister had let slip I was seeing someone “seriously” since this summer. My sister is an architect who married an architect. She was pregnant, with what I am certain will be the first of her many architect babies.

Do not get me wrong, I love my family, but when the odd man out is my cousin the pharmacologist, I knew me pursuing my undergraduate degree raised more than a few eyebrows at the family barbecue. That may be why I allowed my boyfriend to pick me up from a family party where he briefly met my parents while my sister made sure to delay my leaving.

Part of me was looking for approval. I might not be following in my family’s footsteps but a boyfriend who did had to earn me a few brownie points, right? I think it did with my mother who thought he was a charming young man. My dad simply asked what I thought of the current project he was working on, was it not fascinating? They’ve asked me a couple of times about him since that day, but not insistently.

He is the first guy I have ever brought home to meet the parents, albeit briefly. I therefore have no idea whether my parents were simply being polite or genuinely pleased and wishing to get to know him better. I usually keep any answer short and they never pushed.

My boyfriend never pushed either. We kept things light. He was busy with classes and his internship while I spent time putting together applications to master programs around the country. My first choice is of course to stay at my Alma Mater who has a great creative writing program, but I do not want to take any chances and risk not having a fall back plan.

Running after professors for letters of recommendations, writing application essays and refining my short stories for entrance consideration took over most of my free time so I did not complain much when my boyfriend started cancelling on plans we may have had for the evening but when they started to encroach on weekend dates, I complained. He apologized, promising that by the 17th of December he would be done and spend the holiday break lavishing his time on me, I caved and let it slip.

That was at the beginning of November. Since then, I’ve been lucky to get more than two evenings with him each week. We rarely go out, spending evenings at my apartment having dinner in the leaving room while watching movies, followed by customary sex. The sex had been somewhat satisfying at the beginning. We would make-out for a long time where we would tease each other and dry hump until we could not take it anymore and off went the clothes and he would finger me and sometimes lick me to orgasm and the groins would get together and he’d come in a condom I still forced him to wear, no matter that I had been on the pill since for years.

Though not as satisfying as it used to be, the regular sex has kept me sane during these stressful weeks before the holiday break as I make sure to manage at least one orgasm during the proceedings and occasionally take matters in to my own hands on my many lonely evenings.

Most my friends have not voiced any strong opinions about my boyfriend. They rarely see him, so he is mostly irrelevant to them. Most have been with their boyfriends for years, and silivri escort know I am rather private about my romantic relationships, so getting my boyfriend to interact with the other couples… It’s not something I will let happen until we at least exchanged the L word, which we have not.

The one exception to this is my single friend Jessica. I met Jessica in my first year of CEGEP. For those who do not know, CEGEP is like a mandatory two year junior college before going to university for three years.

Jessica was in the same rhetoric class where we both secretly gushed about the attractiveness of our professor. Though in his early forties, he had a passionate and energetic personality that gave him a youthful air. We would joke about how we would go about seducing him, tempting him in to a taboo situation. Of course we never put any of the many plans in to motion, they were only crazy thought from single young girls with a crush and no sexual outlet.

But unlike Jessica, I had been a virgin. A fact she thought was hilarious when contrasted with the crazy scenarios I would come up with during our sex dreaming sessions. I had made out with quite a few guys and even gone down on a couple in high school but though I had found the guys attractive and enjoyed making out with them, none had ever really turned me on enough for me to really want to try anything further. If I could take care of my own needs I saw no reason to risk getting emotionally entangled with a guy because of hormones. I did not crave that intimacy with anyone. That is, until Jessica dragged me to a party and I saw Phil again, a guy I knew from the old neighbourhood.

The fact Jessica knew about me and Phil, about all the crazy things that followed until I decided to do a U-turn this past summer to satisfy my attempt at a “serious relationship” had her griping about Paul at every occasion. I couldn’t blame her. Part of me was getting tired of Paul. Being able to introduce a suitable young man to the family was not enough to keep me tied for much longer. I had recently heard Phil would be returning to Montreal, and that had my mind going wild.

***

Phil. Even just thinking about him now brings back tingles, of the loin variety. He was not a college guy. He worked for his uncle who was a contractor. He dealt weed occasionally too, mostly because he consumed so much of it. He had also slept with more females by the age of eighteen than most guys would ever sleep with. He told me once he had stopped keeping count in the 70s. Unlike with most guys where I suspected their number to be exaggerated, I always felt he downplayed it so as not to scare me off.

When I first met him, the summer I had graduated high school, he had just started dating this Greek girl with gigantic breasts, Petra. They were known to be a fiery couple — in other words, they fought all the time.

We flirted when she wasn’t around, something out of character for me, and we would have long conversations which included sexual topics, which were mostly him talking about his past and, surprisingly, his current relationship.

It was the first time I had frank conversations about sex with a person of the opposite sex. My former boyfriends would simply act and push for sex but not express their intimate thoughts or ask for mine. At least not in a way that would tempt me.

For the first time in my life, having met Phil, I understood how hormones could take over rational thought, but he was taken. The fact he did not seem to mind that detail did not mean I didn’t. I could not bring myself to act on what I wanted, and so when CEGEP started I kept away from him, which was rather easy as we did not usually run in the same circles and if I only hung out with my college friends, chances were non-existent of us ever crossing paths, or so I thought.

Spring, almost two years later, Jessica started dating a new guy. They were throwing a party and Jessica was excited to have me meet him. She had told me about their sex life and how he was insatiable in bed. He worked in construction and apparently was ripped and well endowed. I was really curious to meet this guy who had my friend blushing and smiling at the most random moments during the day.

When I got to the party I met Frank, her boyfriend. I could not agree more with her about his attractiveness. He was all muscle, rugged and honey eyed. Six feet tall and tanned. I understood immediately how someone would lose their mind over this man. He couldn’t seem to take his hand off her which made me smile as I shook his other hand.

I was quickly presented to several people around the room, and given a delicious but strong mixed drink. I knew quite a few people from school and met a few of his friends who were more of a blue collar sort and mostly good looking.

I was having a great time, getting tipsy, dancing and mingling. I was starting to let loose. I was debating whether to give in to my flirting urge with a particularly handsome merter escort young man when I heard a voice I never thought I’d hear again. “V? Oh, my God! Is that you?” There he was, the star of some of my most inspired wet dreams.

Phil looked surprised to see me, just as surprised as I was to see him. He got over his shock first and gave me a hug and kiss, like old friends. I felt myself blush and my cheek burned where his lips had touched me. I had never felt desire flood me so quickly and so potently in my entire life. I think Jessica noticed since she came rushing to my side out of nowhere and had the biggest shit eating grin I had ever seen her direct at me.

“Interesting, she purred linking her arm with mine and addressing Phil while looking him up and down. Who are you and how do you know Victoria? I rarely see her this tongue tied. You must be special!”

Oh, how I wished I had been around one of my tamer friends who would not have dared put me on the spot like she did. My heart was beating fast, my arm hair standing up and she could not help but add oil to the fire, teasing my nervousness.

“V? She turned me down numerous times, like the smart girl she is.” Phil answered laughing, winking at me. Not one to let anything slide, Jessica couldn’t help but ask: “Really? Seeing how you have her blushing it’s not because of your looks, so what’s wrong with you?”

“Now, that’s enough, Jessie! If she gets any redder she’ll burn through the floor” interrupted a smirking Frank before I could intervene myself. He had a huge smile on his face while he man hugged Phil. They apparently knew each other from work, Frank having once worked for Phil’s uncle.

As the guys were distracted saluting each other, Jessica pulled me off to the bedroom before I could protest.

“Spill!” Was her simple command as she closed the door and pushed me to sit on the bed. She had a stern stare but her lips couldn’t help but curl up at the corners. “And don’t tell me it’s nothing. It obviously is. Who is that guy? And why are you tomato red all of a sudden?”

“Uhhhhhh…” I couldn’t get myself to form words for some reason. When she called me tongue tied she oversold my ability to speak since my brain had short circuited and I actually had lost the ability to think straight, let alone express myself intelligently. “That’s Phil.” I finally mumbled. Though I am sure it came out more like a: “uhthatshhhmmmphill?”

I knew better than to hope Jessica would not be able to decipher my mumbling or that she had forgotten about my admission long ago that the only guy that ever had me wetting my panties like the hormonal teenager that I was, was that guy on the other side of the door. I knew she remembered my confession and put two and two together when the smile she had been hiding melted her “I take no shit” stare was replaced with a twinkle that could only mean trouble.

“Vicky,”

“I hate when you call me Vicky.” I interrupted.

“I know.” She said pulling her tongue at me. “And don’t think I did not notice how you let him call you V. But that’s beside the point.” She quickly amended. “I know you have your morals and what not, but even if that guy is still dating that skank, I really think it might be best if you got him out of your system by getting his dick up your system.”

“Nice, Jess. You make it sound so tempting” I tried rolling my eyes and before I could add any further she stopped me by raising her hand and declared in what I imagined was her “I mean business” move: “I say, fuck it, and fuck him, literally! It will do you good.”

“He just broke up with that girl of his, if that’s any help.” Said Frank, leaning on the door jam, startling the shit out of me and adding on to my already spreading nervousness.

“Fuck! Frank!” I couldn’t help but exclaim, my hand to my chest as if I could force it all the way through to stop my heart from panicking.

“No. Frank is taken and well taken care of.” Quipped Jessica. “But you can fuck Phil.” She said joining Frank at the door and leaving me sitting on the bed with this new piece of information and considering what to do with it.

***

I am getting side tracked. It’s been happening a lot lately. My boyfriend was on the phone with the same excuse and I kept thinking about my past relationships. The one with Phil being my favourite one to wax nostalgic about. It did not last long, barely over four months. It was some of the most fun I’d had in my life but he left the Province for a job in Alberta that summer and it never even crossed my mind to go with him.

I liked him and he had my insides twisted at the drop of a hat but I don’t think either of us was in love. With more time I have a feeling we could havebeen. We knew going in he was leaving soon and I was young and too guarded to let myself be taken down a path I knew nothing about. No matter how many wild and tender moments we shared we knew it came with an expiry date.

By the time he left that summer, mecidiyeköy escort I had gone from a virgin to a girl who had done it in more position than I had known existed, every single surface of the apartment I shared with Jess had had my naked skin splayed out on it while he pounded in to me, things had been trickled down body parts and licked off — a fortune was spent cleaning my sheets so often.

My time with Phil opened me up to a world of physical feelings I could not completely give up on. So when I started University I became a serial monogamist. Never more than five months with a guy but jumping in to a new relationship the moment I was free. In two and a half years since Phil had left I had dated eight guys, and slept with a couple dozen more.

To be honest, I never thought that one night stands were my thing but I still needed to sleep with a guy before I could commit to dating them on a more permanent basis. If I could not orgasm after a couple of sessions in the sack, I had to go through the whole “It’s not you, it’s me” spiel and hope the guy was accepting and would not insist on staying friends.

The last thing I wanted was to be stuck with a former bad lover hoping to change things around. It had happened with the first guy I had slept with starting my first year of University. It had taken me months to shake him off, and I owed that more to Jessica than to my capacity to be direct with the guy. That was the only time I ever tried using the “Let’s be friend line” to make the guy feel better.

And so I dated. Trying to but often failing to recreate the sexual intensity I had felt with Phil. At first I thought it was because I was dating university guys, so I went out with a construction worker I had met through Frank. Thankfully, Jessica had already moved on from the cuddly phase with her honey eyed hunk. Making what later developed possible.

***

The construction guy’s name was Sal, short for Salvatore. I had turned him down a few times in the past since I could not envision myself crying out his name in bed, not because he was unattractive, I just did not like the name. Oh, I know how superficial that sounds, but one thing I learned from my first sexual tryst was that I like being vocal in bed. Moaning or screaming a guy’s name turns me on, in part because they really get off on it.

I started “dating” Sal after I ran in to him and Frank at a bar downtown. Jessica had started dating a new guy two weeks prior after about six months exclusively with Frank, or so I thought. I remember at the time thinking they both had taken the breakup pretty well. At the time I had no idea about the more savory details of their relationship. I would get to learn some of them first hand in the following years but at the time I could not get a straight answer as to what had happened between them but they still got along well enough that I felt comfortable walking up to him and his friend that evening.

I was supposed to be meeting a couple of my fellow poetry class students. It was fall and I was excited, it was my first year in university and I wanted to soak up the experience but two of them had flaked out and the only one who showed up was this skinny “I only like to wear black” guy who would never shut up about Borges. I loved the author, unfortunately he knew that and sought to impress me with his knowledge but he just sounded pompous to me.

Therefore, when we walked in to the bar while I was trying to come up with a good excuse to leave early if not immediately and I noticed two familiar faces sitting at the bar, I ignored my companion who was settling at a table near the entrance, quickly excused myself walking straight to them, as if I had not seen these best of friends in years! My enthusiasm must have taken them by surprise but as I hugged them I whispered: “I am stuck with this guy. You need to save me. Please!”

Frank smirked. Ever since I had met him at the party he had thrown with Jessica seven months back, the same evening I through all care to the wind and had fucked Phil in his guest room, while I could hear him and Jessica going at it with just as much intensity through the adjoining wall, Frank looked at me like the cat that ate the canary and had thoroughly enjoyed his meal. I mentioned it to Jessica who just laughed it off, saying that was just his way of looking at attractive women. I asked her if that bothered her and she just smiled and said she loved my loyalty but that I should not worry about her feelings and Frank, that they had an understanding. I had assumed it was of the “look but don’t touch” variety, it wasn’t.

Sal took advantage of the hug and pressed me to his body a little longer and tighter than appropriate between supposed friends and his hands strayed to my lower back where my skin showed due to my too short coat and too low jeans.

“No worries, baby girl. I’ll take care of it. You’ll owe me though.”

Either Sal’s whisper or his cold hands from holding his beer, I am not sure, made goose bumps spread from my lower back up my spine all the way round to my hardening nipples. My physical reaction seemed to have been apparent to Frank who had a knowing look on his face while he pretended to tilt his head halfway to the side unable to hide his smile. Sal kept his focus on me, rubbing his thumb on my lower back, while I looked back and forth between him and Frank.

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