Crossing the Line

by Lauren Landish

  “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?”

  “I’ve got it,” Kat says. “I’ll get back to you after I break up with Kevin. It’s been a weird night and I guess it’s going to get even weirder. Guess I gotta go tell Kevin his dick busted him on the internet and he can get fucked elsewhere . . . permanently. I can do this.”

  “Damn right, you can,” I tell her. “You can do this, Kitty Kat. Remember, you deserve better. I’ll be waiting for your report.”

  Kat laughs and we hang up. I don’t know what just happened but my body feels light, bubbly inside as I take a big breath to get ready for the next segment of tonight’s show.

  Kat

  I knock on the door to Kevin’s apartment, the voice of Derrick the Love Whisperer still running around in my head. I deserve better than to be cheated on.

  “Hey, babe,” Kevin says when he opens his door. He’s still wearing his ‘work clothes,’ a black tank top with KH Nutrition emblazoned on it along with track pants that are just a little tight and normally worn just a little low on his hips when he works out. I’ve never really understood why he does it, but it’s part of his ‘thang.’ Every Instagram pic and video he does, he whips off the tank, adjusts his track pants in a way that highlights the Adonis belt V-cut of his abs, then flexes and sort of makes a hooting grunt before finishing the show with “KH, Bay-bay!”

  I used to think it was sexy, in a musclehead, caveman-ish sort of way. No longer. “Don’t ‘hey, babe’ me,” I growl, looking up into his eyes. I’m not in work clothes, so I’m missing the extra inches of height my heels normally give me. But I’m a legit five-two of fury right now, so I don’t care if he’s nearly a foot taller. “How long have you been fucking her behind my back?”

  “Huh?” Kevin asks, but in his eyes I can see he has a damn good idea what I’m talking about.

  “Don’t act stupid, you son of a bitch!” I hiss, poking him in the chest. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. Titty Fuck Girl. Where’d you meet her, the gym? When you went out shopping for a new smartphone with the money I gave you because you swore you needed the better camera for your Instagram page? How long has it been going on, Kevin?”

  Kevin looks up and down the hallway. For a guy whose Internet presence makes him look like a big baller, he’s living in a cracker box POS apartment building, and I know he’s worried about his neighbors hearing me blab his private business. “Come on inside. We can talk—”

  “If you don’t tell me how long it’s been going on, I’m going to put my knee right in your nuts,” I growl. “This isn’t a negotiation, Kevin.” It really doesn’t matter at this point. It’s most likely just going to make me angrier, but I can’t stop myself.

  He looks like he’s about to run but sighs. “Fine. I met her a couple of months ago when she came into the gym. I was filming a squat.”

  “What? So she just walked up behind you to compliment your form and suddenly, you’re in bed?” I laugh, realizing just how short I sold myself. He’s fake—the tan, the persona, the entire image. Just to get more followers.

  Kevin looks sheepish but nods. “She said she’d promote my supps, do some spots on her Instagram feed, and let me shoot some selfies with her wearing a KH tank top.”

  “So you titty fucked her?” I hiss, shaking my head. Seriously, what the fuck? I can hardly take it as I stare at his chiseled face, wanting so badly to slap him. “Do you realize how ridiculous you sound right now? How stupid do you think I am?”

  Kevin looks pouty, the same look he used when he hit me up for four hundred bucks for his new smartphone. “You never believe in me, never think I can be successful even though I work so hard.”

  It’s in this moment that I see it. Though his face is schooled into a puppy dog look, his eyes are alight as he turns the blame back on me, thinking he’s pulled one over on me once again. And all the fire leaves me. I’m mad he cheated, but I don’t even really like him right now, and honestly, I haven’t for a long time but was too afraid to do anything about it.

  My voice takes a parental, lecturing tone. “You’re not working. You’re a lazy ass who spends hours at the gym bullshitting with the bros and thinking some scam is going to magically make you money without your having to actually do anything. But you know what? I looked the other way for too long even though everyone told me you were no good. None of that even matters now. You cheated on me. Done. Game over.”

  Kevin inhales, trying to stand at his tallest, most imposing. His forearms clench and his biceps start to strain as he puffs up. It strikes me that once upon a time, he’d stand over me like this and I’d find it so damn sexy I’d be instantly wet, but now, his attempt at intimidating me is just ridiculous. “You’ll be sorry. You’ll never find someone who treats you like I do, who satisfies you like I do.”

  God, how could I have been so blind? “Like you do? You know, I hope you’re right because you treat me like an afterthought, using me as an ATM when you’re a little short, screwing around, and blaming me for your lack of success when it’s your own fault,” I reply, keeping my voice calm but firm, not letting him get an inch on me. I’m not going to raise my voice, to yell or let him think that he’s gotten to me, because for some reason, honestly, he hasn’t. “And as for satisfied in bed, I have literally never had a single orgasm with you. Ever. I’m not gonna lie, your dick is nice to look at and photographs well, apparently, but you don’t even know what to do with it. Sticking it in and out for two minutes before blowing into a condom and then rolling over to gasp while staring at the ceiling doesn’t quite cut it, Kev. So yeah, I hope I never find someone who treats me like you do. I thought I could settle for content, just float along and not rock the boat, but I deserve so much more.”

  Before Kevin can reply, I turn and walk toward the stairs, not wanting to lose my nerve in front of him. It’s not until I’m halfway down that the shakes start as the adrenaline leaves me, but I keep it cool until I get to my car.

  One Week Later

  A week since the blow-up with Kevin and I’m surprisingly not upset. Disappointed, sure, but if you end a one-year relationship with someone, shouldn’t you feel sad? I’ve felt a lot of other emotions, anger mostly, but they’ve faded too. Instead, I’m just left with this . . . I guess more than anything, lack of things to do. I’ve got more free time on my hands, but I’m not sad or upset.

  I guess the lack of depression goes to show how far apart we’d drifted and how unattached I was from him without even realizing it. Really, the most annoying part of this whole thing has been that I’ve had to change my gym membership because I didn’t want drama or to limit myself to when I could or couldn’t go based on his haunting the place.

  Maybe I never really was in love with him. We’d met at the gym, and he’d been charming and admittedly hot, so when he asked me out, I said yes. Our dating just naturally progressed, and somewhere along the way, we started calling it a relationship, but who knows if he was ever really committed? I was faithful, but that was more out of habit and the fact that I would never cheat than any obvious commitment we had. It’s not like he ever put a ring on it.

  Even though it had been over a month since we’d been intimate, I’d gone to the doctor for a checkup just to be safe, and luckily, everything was clear. I can’t believ
e he’d put me at risk, but I guess I should’ve seen it coming considering guys always cheat.

  Taking the opportunity to do a purge on everything in my life, I’ve got the radio turned up and I’m cleaning my apartment like a mad woman when I hear the voice. His voice.

  It’s like velvet-covered gravel, and just a few words make me breathless and hot. “Good evening, listeners. Derrick King here, aka the ‘Love Whisperer’. What’s happening in your love life? Our focus tonight is on pushing boundaries in the bedroom. What’s encouraging and fun? What’s demanding and over the line? Call in if you’ve got something to discuss.”

  I’ve gone stock-still, my cleaning completely forgotten as his voice washes over me. I turn it up a little more as I finish sweeping, deciding everything else can wait as I listen.

  Over the next few hours, Derrick is surprisingly simple in his answers to callers, who want to try a variety of things sexually but for whatever reason haven’t discussed it with their partners. It’s almost comical how every call gets into a groove, and it sort of goes like this:

  I want to do this crazy thing.

  Have you asked your partner?

  No.

  Talk to them. Maybe they’re into it.

  But I’m not sure they want to.

  How could you know if you don’t talk with them? If they are, great. If not, decide if it’s a deal breaker and move forward according to your answer. Chances are it’s not a deal-breaker if you’re not doing it now.

  It’s funny and spiced up with plenty of little anecdotes and witticisms that leave me grinning, while his voice turns me on even as I’m comforted. I listen to his no-nonsense approach as he advocates conversation and honesty at every turn, and I only wish I had a man like that who’d actually talk and be honest with me.

  As the show wraps up, I remember his request for me to call him back and tell him what happened with Kevin. He was probably just being nice and doesn’t actually expect me to call, but something about it felt real.

  I wait for a bit after the show ends to give him time to get out of the studio and wherever it is he goes after work, and then I call. I’m heading out anyway. I’ve got a late-night rumbling tummy that can only be satisfied by something cheesy and takeout.

  The phone rings several times and I’m about to hang up, mad at myself for being stupidly excited about talking to The Love Whisperer again, when he answers.

  “Talk to me.”

  It’s the same purring growl. That panty-melting voice of his isn’t an act.

  “Hey, Love Whisperer. It’s your Kitty Kat.”

  There’s a throaty chuckle on the other end, but there’s concern in it too, which helps me feel better. “My Kitty Kat now?” he asks, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “After a week went by, I wasn’t sure if I was going to get that return call. I was starting to doubt whether I had an effect at all.”

  “You set me straight. Hold on. Let me put you on speaker. I’ve got this technogeek wonder phone that I love to use speaker on.”

  “Well, I’m in my office, so this isn’t private . . . but tell me, how’d it go?”

  I plug my phone into the charging dock in my dash and slip my Bluetooth earpiece in as I fire up my car. “First off, I can’t believe I didn’t listen to anyone.”

  Derrick

  “I can’t believe you’re the type to settle for anyone,” I reply, relaxing back in my office chair. It’s late. Almost nobody is around the studio right now. It’s one of the benefits of satellite radio, I guess. You can run a lot more shows pre-recorded. “So he fessed up?”

  “He gave me the most ridiculous line of shit ever,” Kat says, her breathy voice causing a stir in my pants. What the fuck is wrong with me? “He said that he did it because she was willing to pimp his line of supplements on her Instagram page.”

  “You’re shitting me,” I say, rolling my eyes. “What a stupid asshole.”

  “You’re right there. Honestly, I waited a week to call because I wanted to get a clear head.”

  “I can understand that. So he fed you a line of bullshit, and you chucked his ass out on the street. That’s what I wanted to hear.”

  “Not quite,” Kat says. “I went to his apartment to give him the news. No waiting around.”

  “Good for you,” I tell her. “So, that’s it? I mean, I like it, but sounds a bit easy, don’t you think?”

  “Well, he did try to puff his chest out and tell me no man would ever treat me like he did or satisfy me like him. I took a little delight in telling him that I sure as hell hoped not since he’s a cheater whom I had to fake it with because he’d never even made me . . .” Kat says with spunkiness before stopping herself short. “Uhm, I mean—”

  “Wait, seriously?” I ask in a sputtering laugh. “Is that true? You weren’t just busting his balls? Damn, Kat . . . for how long?”

  “It’s okay,” she says, seemingly comfortable talking to me. “My best friend told me to get a dog or a new rabbit. Or both. She’s probably right.”

  “A rabbit?” I ask, my brain half-buzzed from her voice. Fuck me, I need to get laid.

  “Well, um, not a bunny rabbit,” she replies, her voice becoming even a little breathier. “You know . . . a rabbit.”

  She makes a buzzing sound, and all of a sudden, it hits me. She’s making me seem like an amateur. I talk about sex for a living. I shouldn’t be caught off guard like this. Trying to maintain at least a veneer of professionalism, I clear my throat. “Yeah, I can see where that’d come in handy. Take matters into your own hands, so to speak. I’ve done that myself more than a few times.”

  What I just said sinks in for both of us, and the tension between us can be felt even over the phone lines. If I could see her right now, I’d swear we’d just crossed a line. And I’d probably see how far I could push to make a move.

  Kat can feel it too. “So, uh, yeah, anyway. That was probably an overshare on my part. Sorry about that.”

  Fuck it. I don’t know why I’m doing this, but I’m just gonna go for it. Her sweet voice is doing something magically delicious to me, something about her intriguing me in a way I haven’t felt in a long while. Time to jump in the pool and see if she’s willing to swim with me. I look around the studio, not seeing Susannah. “Not an overshare at all. I’m just in the middle of picturing you with your new pet bunny, what you would look like spread wide open with your tits pearled up, pussy pulsing around a little toy that can’t fill it, and what you’d sound like when you come.”

  I know my voice has gotten deeper, lust making it even rougher than my usual smooth radio sound, but I can’t stop it. I adjust myself in my jeans, glad she can’t see the effect she’s having on me right now.

  There’s a slight hitch in her voice as she adjusts to what I just said. “Derrick, wow. I don’t know what to say to that. Fuck.”

  She’s all but whispering by the end of her sentence and I wonder if she’s touching herself to let out some tension. I don’t even know what she looks like, but I don’t care. I want to see her just like I said, maybe in a little skirt that’s hiked up so she can show me as I inhale her scent. “You don’t have to say anything unless you want me to stop.”

  I pause, hoping she doesn’t say stop because I damn sure don’t want to. I barely know this woman, this voice coming through my phone, but she’s got me rock hard and on the edge with barely a word. I reach down and undo the button on my jeans, giving myself at least a little room to breathe.

  “I think I need to—”

  I interrupt, hoping to give her what she wants and needing my own release as well. “What do you need, Kitty Kat? I’ll give it to you.”

  Kat pauses, and I can feel her trembling on the edge before she lets out another deep breath, half moan, half sigh of regret. “I think I need to go. I’m sorry. This is all new to me and I wasn’t expecting this tonight. And . . . well, I’m driving. Gotta stay safe. Good night, Derrick.”

  Before I can say a single thing to stop her, she hangs up.
Damn it, Derrick! You pushed her too far, too fast. I literally just did a show about listening, not going beyond your partner’s limits, and I just blasted past Kat’s, lost in my own desire.

  My brain is yelling at me, disappointed that she hung up, but my cock is still at full attention, begging for release. I let the image of Kat take over my mind, not even knowing what she actually looks like, but imagining her pink pussy dripping as she rubs a vibrator across her clit.

  I reach into my briefs, taking my cock out and grabbing it in one fist, then stroke up and down my shaft, giving me instant relief as I groan. To hell with it. As hot as I am, this will be fast, so the odds of anyone catching me are slim. And if they do, well, they’re in for a sight because I can’t stop.

  I imagine Kat holding the vibe to herself as she slips two fingers into her pussy, thrusting them in and out in time to my own strokes, her eyes hooded with lust and watching my every breath.

  In my head, I talk to her, telling her to fuck herself with her fingers. To show me how much she wishes it were my cock filling her tight pussy, how she wants to squeeze and milk me until I fill her up with so much cum that it spills out of her, too much for her little cunt to hold.

  The combination of memories of her voice and my own mind filling the gaps and imagining dirty talking to Kat sends me over the edge. I explode, my come coating my hand as I jerk, getting every last shudder from the orgasm as I picture Kat screaming my name as she’s lost in her own pleasure.

  I glance around my office again, seeing the box of tissues on the corner of my desk. I grab a handful, glad there’s something to help clean up this particular spill . . . and damn glad nobody’s around to see the mess I’ve made.

  Kat

  “Yo, Kat!”

  “You already spent that new bonus check?”