My own cock twitches a little, and I lean in, smirking. “Ah, so the plot thickens. So Kat, how does it feel to say that?”
She sighs, pulling me back a little. “The words don’t bother me. I’m just not used to being on the radio. But saying that about my boyfriend pisses me off. I can’t believe he’d do that.”
“So, what do you think you should do about it?” I ask, leaning back in my chair and pulling my mic toward me. “Is this a ‘talk it through and our relationship will be stronger on the other side of this’ type situation, or is this a ‘hit the road, motherfucker, and take Miss Slippy-Grippy Tits with you?’ Do you want my opinion or do you already know?”
“You’re right,” Kat says, chuckling and sounding stronger again. “I already know I’m done. He’s been a wham-bam-doesn’t even say thank you, ma’am guy all along, and I’ve been hanging on because I didn’t think I deserved better. But I don’t deserve this. I’m better off alone.”
Whoa, now, only half right there, Kat with the sexy voice. “You don’t deserve this. You should have someone who treats you so well you never question their love, their commitment to you. Everyone deserves that. Hey, Kitty Kat? One more thing. Can you say ‘cock’ for me one more time? Just for . . . entertainment.”
I’m pushing the line here, both for her and for the show, but I ask her to do it anyway because I want, no need, to hear her say it.
She laughs, her voice lighter even as I know the serious conversation had to hurt. “Of course, Love Whisperer. Anything for you. You ready? Cock.” She draws the word out, the k a bit harsher, and I can hear the sass, almost an invitation, as she speaks.
“Ooh, thanks so much, Kitty Kat. Hold on the line just a second.” My cock is now fully hard in my pants, and I’m not sure if my upcoming bathroom break is going to be to piss or to take care of that.
I click some buttons, sending the show to a song, Shaggy’s It Wasn’t Me coming over the airwaves to keep the cheating theme rolling. “Susannah?”
“Yeah?”
“Handle the next call or so after the commercial break,” I tell her. “Pick something . . . funny after that one.”
“Gotcha,” Susannah says, and I’m glad she’s able to handle things like that. It’s part of our system too that when I get a call that needs more than on-air can handle, she fills the gap. Usually with less serious questions or listener stories that always make for great laughs.
Checking my board, I click the line back, glad that Susannah can’t hear me now. “Kat? You still there?”
“Yes?” she says, and I feel another little thrill go down my cock just at her word. God, this woman’s got a sexy voice, soft and sweet with a little undercurrent of sassiness . . . or maybe I really, really need to get laid.
“Hey, it’s Derrick. I just wanted to say thanks for being such a good sport with all of that.”
“No problem,” she says as I make a picture in my head of her. I can’t fill in the details, but I definitely want to. “Thanks for helping me realize I need to walk away. I already knew it, but some inspiration never hurts.”
“I really would like to hear the rest of the story if you don’t mind calling me back. I want to hear how he grovels when he finds out what he’s lost. Would you call me?”
I don’t know what I’m doing. This is so not like me. I never talk to the callers after they’re on air unless I think they’re going to hurt themselves or others, and I certainly never invite them to call back. But something about her voice calls to me like a siren. I just hope she’s not pulling me into the rocky shore to crash.
“You mean the show?” Kat asks, uncertain and confused. “Like . . . I dunno, like a guest or something?”
“Well, probably not, to be honest,” I reply, crossing my fingers even as my cock says I need to take this risk. “We’ll be done with the cheating theme tonight and it probably won’t come back up for a couple of weeks. I meant . . . call me. I want to make sure you’re okay afterward and standing strong.”
“Okay.”
Before she can take it back, I rattle off my personal cell number to her, half of my brain telling me this is brilliant and the other half saying it’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. I might not have the FCC looking over my shoulder, but the satellite network is and my advertisers for damn sure are. Still . . . “Got it?”