"When men take a position on high moral grounds, it is almost always a bluff." - Anonymous Quote
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The phone rang seven times before Fuller finally picked it up. His recently divorced roommate, Dave Peters had just left to do some grocery shopping so Fuller knew it was not Peters calling. Consolidated Foods had fired Fuller the day before, and he was expecting them to call. They wanted him to return the keys to their warehouse. When they called, Fuller would tell them that they could just go fuck themselves. He would keep their damn keys.
"Daddy, is that you?" The voice was small, uncertain, and female.
"I think you have the wrong number," Fuller said quickly.
"No, I'm your naughty daughter," the voice insisted.
"How did you get my phone number?"
"I found it in Mom's purse. She lied. She told me you abandoned us. But I know you love me. I know you'd never leave me."
Fuller listened as the words tumbled out of the young girl's mouth. Her voice was full of anguish and relief. She spoke quickly, afraid that Fuller might hang up.
"You're not mad at me are you?"
Uncertain about where this phone call was going, Fuller told her the truth. "No, I'm not mad at you."
There was an uncomfortable silence. He could hear her breath. It was heavy breathing, exaggerated huffs and puffs exhaled directly into the telephone.
Fuller waited.
"Guess what I'm doing?"
"Breathing on the telephone," Fuller said blandly. He was not amused.
"I'm touching myself."
"Where?" asked Fuller gathering interest.
"Between my legs."
Fuller suspected this was a clever solicitation from some 1-900-FUCKME business or a government sting operation against suspected pedophiles. He knew it was not his daughter. He did not have a daughter. And if he did have a daughter from one of his numerous affairs, she would not be making sex telephone calls. His daughter would be screaming at him for abandoning her, or cursing him for not paying child support. But this teen was whispering sultry obscenities.
