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She called me randomly one night in a Texas hotel room, and she wanted to have phone sex. In retrospect, maybe not the best move Late one cold, wet November night a couple of years ago, maybe 3 a.m., I was sitting on my bed in a Motel 6 just south of Austin, Texas, brushing my teeth and watching the closing moments of a college basketball game on ESPN2 that had been played earlier that night but was being rebroadcast and whose outcome was still a mystery to me, when the phone on the night table besides me jangled to life. Nobody knew I was there; I'd arrived only an hour earlier.
Every few nights, I'd be out in the van after a show, making my bed in the backseat, when Nicole would call, and we'd get hot and heavy.
I was still wary that this was all some crazy prank by my friends and that our calls were being recorded, so during phone sex I kept things tongue-in-check, as though hamming it up for an audience.
Inevitably, one of their new beaus calls back to say, "Hey man, I got your message.
Emilie's down in Chile for two weeks, but you sounded really down…. Listen, this is gonna sound crazy, but okay, I've been doing some thinking, and what I think is, I think we should meet. I'll come down to Austin or Waco or wherever you live.
She refused, and for the next week I wouldn't answer her calls. One time I even asked a girl I met at one of the Found readings for details of what happens on the visit to the gynecologist, then asked Nicole the same thing. "They come at you with that speculum—it's like a medieval torture device." I pressed her to continue, but she wasn't going to pay these games with me. Ten out of ten male friends I polled had no idea what that was. Sometimes we'd talk for half an hour before phone sex.
Out in my van after a long night in Phoenix or Des Moines, I'd be lonely, drunk, and depressed, and tell her about my problems.It was weird that she was always whispering, though. Ultimately, this is what I told myself: Phone sex was really about the power of the imagination, and in that case I could imagine her to be whomever I wanted.A couple of times, I told Nicole it was over unless she talked out loud so I could be sure she was a girl. It wasn't hard to imagine her as Fiona Apple's double. My phone had a special ring for Private Caller, and since Nicole was the only one who rang like that, I could tell when she was calling. I dropped the funny guises and just talked to her genuinely.Nicole's dirty talk was both ridiculous and oddly arousing. It was actually so comfortable, a lot of nights I chose to sleep out in the van rather than on a stranger's sagging couch. We chatted for a few minutes, then got into the phone sex again. This time I went Shakespeare: "Oh baby, wherefore art thy labia? Now that we'd had sex a couple of times, I wanted to know what she was all about—I wanted to know where she worked; I wanted to know what she was into (besides having phone sex with strangers); I wanted to know what kind of person calls hotel rooms to have phone sex with strangers.But I couldn't shake the thought that this was all being recorded, that in the parking lot, staked out in the back of an ice cream truck that had been pimped into a mobile surveillance unit, friends of mine were listening in, wide-eyed and gleeful, headphones clamped to their ears. Once a month or so, dusted from the road, we'd splurge on some sad-sack hotel, like that Motel 6 on the outskirts of Austin. " Afterward, she was about to hang up, but I said, "Nicole, that's so impersonal. She told me she'd studied psychology at the University of North Texas and that now she worked as a nurse at an old-age home in Waco; she'd just been down in Austin visiting friends.I just wanted to call and make sure you were doing all right."That night, on the shoulder of I-94, big rigs howling past, I thought of Nicole. We should meet up." There was a long pause, the kind of silence you hear when the TV's showing footage of a plane crash or a natural disaster and the anchorman's at a loss for words. It's fucking freezing here, anyway."Ten days later, I was in Austin. This was the kind of girl I'd move to Texas for. I turned away and headed out of the restaurant, almost bumping into a guy on his way in.Tags: Adult Dating, affair dating, sex dating