Page 4 of Alonzo

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“You’re doing this on purpose! You know I only get thirty minutes for lunch today! It’s book club Monday and I’ve got every damn housewife in Fort Collins in here with her wine-stained book-of-the-month-club edition paperback acting like she’s all literate and shit.”

I laugh again.

“Lonnie. Phone-fuck me right now. Or I’m hanging up and never answering your pervy calls again.”

“Fine.” I pause. Because Tara Tanner and I have phone-fucked ninety-seven times now. That’s not a made-up number. That is the exact number of times we’ve done this. Over the phone, at least. Sexting brings that number up to a hundred and twenty-four. And we’ve had twenty-nine cam dates.

That’s the long way of saying we’ve done this a lot. And it’s never boring. Ever. I won’t give in to her time constraints and ruin our perfect record just because some Fort Collins housewife gets needy during Tara’s lunch break.

“OK, forget the present scenario. I’ve got a better one.”

“I’m listening.”

“I’ll call you right back. But this time, don’t pretend you’re answering the library phone. Just say a normal hello.”

“Lonnie!”

But I hang up without commenting. Because if we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do it right.

I’m at home today because it’s January and things are pretty slow at Dumas Deep Sea Fishing in the winter. And I’ve been saving this little scenario up for a while. So I think it’s time.

I take a moment to gather my thoughts. I want to say all of this just right.

One hand pops the button on my shorts and slips inside them, while the other one tabs Tara’s contact on my phone.

She answers on the fourth ring, trying to play hard to get. “Hello.” Her voice is soft and sultry now, completely different than the way she sounded earlier.

“Hello.” My voice is different too. Not Lonnie the accountant. Nothing like Lonnie the accountant. Much more like Alonzo, the fisherman. “I’m looking for Tara Tanner.”

“I’m Tara Tanner. Who is this? I don’t recognize the number.”

“This is Alonzo.”

“Well, Alonzo, how can I help you?”

“You can start by taking your clothes off.”

She laughs softly. “Why would I do that?”

“Because I’m going to fuck you over the phone right now. And I want you to be naked when I do it.”

“Promises, promises.”

“Hey! You’re not allowed to break character!”

“I’m naked!”

“You’re not naked! You were just bitching about work. Now I have to start all over again. Hang up and—”

“Fuck you, Lonnie! Just… start talking. I swear to God, I’m butt-ass naked. I’m ready.”

“Pic or it never happened. I want you to close your eyes and stick out your tongue in the pic so I know it’s real. You have ten seconds or no phone fuck.”

“Oh, my God!”

“Ten. I know you’re not naked. Nine.”