“…and at the top of the fishnet stockings, I’m wearing a lacy black garter with a red bow.”
“And what else…?”
“Only a tiny, black, negligee. It’s so hot in here; I may have to take it off. My breasts are hot and sweaty…”
“Describe your breasts to me…”
Audrey leant forward over the ironing board, reached for another pair of school shorts from the pile of creased clothes. Cradling the phone on her shoulder, she continued the conversation. Sarah was right, this chatline business was easy and lucrative. Her husband didn’t need to know. It wasn’t wrong. Just talking, right?
