— Friday, right.
— And you’ll move in with me on Saturday?
— Yeah, sure I will.
— Oh, Don…
— …
— We’ll be very happy, won’t we?
— We will, Mary. You can be sure of that.
— I love you.
— I love you.
— Here’s an enormous kiss.
— Bye.
— …Don.
— Yeah?
— Friday.
— Friday. Sure. Bye.
(415) 496–6642
2:12 AM
— Hello, this is Esmeralda…
— Esmeralda, it’s me. Listen to me, don’t hang up…
— …I can’t answer the phone right now, but leave your message and your number after the tone, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Ciao.
— Shit. Esmeralda, I know you’re there. Please, pick up. Please…Shit.
(415) 952–3144
12:58 AM
— Hello?
— Conchita?
— Yeah.
— It’s me.
— …
— Do you remember me?
— Ye…Yeah, sure. Mmmhh, how could I forget you…
— Good. The last time we talked, you know, you were a little…cold with me.
— I was?
— Maybe it was my fault…I don’t know.
— I just wanted more from you, ooohhh, you get me so…
— Right. I hope…I didn’t disappoint you or anything like that…
— Oh, no, it’s just that I can’t get enough of you…
— I think sometimes…I think I’ve disappointed women, you know?
— Why, when you’re so…
— I don’t know…
— So strong and so virile…
— I don’t mean I couldn’t…you know…
— Of course not…
— I always could, you know?
— …Mmmmhh…
— It’s just that I…it’s like they…
— Sure.
— Like I couldn’t satisfy them or something…
— Unbelievable, yeah.
— But you’re different, right?
— I’m yours.
— Yeah.
— What do you want to do today?
— I don’t know…maybe…maybe something rough would be good…
— Where are you?
— In my office. I always call from here. It’s…cheaper…
— You’re a rascal…
— Ha, ha…yeah, I guess I am…
— Would you like a little pain?
— Well, I don’t want you to think I’m…
— It’s fine…
— Brilliant.
— Do you like me dressed in leather?
— Leather? Oooohh, yeah.
— Black leather, with a spiked collar…
— Yeah…
— Like your dog, I’m your dog…
— And me?
— And you? You’re garbage. Is that all right?
— Perfect.
— You’re just a piece of rotten meat.
— That’s it, yeah. Do you have a…
— I have a whip with seven lashes, tipped in metal…
— Wow.
— …And I come in slamming the door of your office.
— Don’t slam it too hard. It’s just…the coffee machine’s behind the door and…
— I don’t care!
— Oh.
— I don’t care about anything you say because you’re a piece of shit. You hear me?
— That’s it, more…
— You’re a piece of shit that only deserves to lick the soles of my boots!
— You’re wearing boots?
— They’re high, they reach above my knee, and the heels are very high so…
— That’s good…
— …So I can drive them into your face…
— Ow!
— Now I drag you down to the floor…
— Watch it! The file cabinet’s rickety…
— Fuck your file cabinet! You hit your head on it, but I keep dragging you across the floor…
— …Oh, Conchita…
— Now I want you to lick my soles…
— Please, no…
— Lick them, you piece of shit!
— That’s good…
— And you better leave them clean.
— Yes, Conchita.
— You like it?
— …it hurts…
— Take that, you shit!
— Ah!
— And take this! And this!
— That’s enough, please…
— That’s it, beg me…
— Please, please, please…
— Now I’m going to sit on your face and pull down your trousers…
— …Wait…
— Shut up! You’re going to lick me, got it? And if you don’t do it right, I’ll whip you on your cock.
— …Yes, Conchita…
— Are you doing it?
— …It’s just that…
— It’s just what, you bastard?
— …I don’t know if you’ve taken off your leather pants…
— Through the slit, imbecile! Don’t you see it?
— Ahh, yeah, the slit…
— Take this for being an imbecile!
— Ouch!
— Are you doing it?
—