Date: Tue, 10 Nov 2020 12:35:39 +0000
From: Alain Mahy <amahy1957@gmail.com>
Subject: Voices 1

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No real sex yet in this chapter...  but it will come...


	Have you guys ever gotten a message by Whatsapp or messenger or any
other, that told you you had won this or that and that you just had to fill
in a form with ALL your details, including your credit card information?  I
sure did and each time it happened, I quit once they asked too much
information.  I am not the one to just give all my details because
"supposedly" I have won something.  If I really want to gamble, the most I
do is from time to time to buy a lottery ticket.  Hey!  Someone has to win
the jackpot, no?  Anyway, the other day I was purchasing a book online.
Yes, I am old-fashioned and like to have a book physically in my hands,
smell the odor it has and turning pages manually.  It can sound strange to
you, but I hate to read on an electronic devise (except for some good short
stories on Nifty).  So, I had found the book I was looking for and was
filling in my details to have it sent to me.  While I was doing that, my
phone rang and I answered the call.  When I came back to finalize my
purchase, I had not noticed immediately that I was on a pop-up page.  I
found it a bit strange they were asking all my details again as it was a
site where I had bought before, but didn't pay much attention to it.

	It was only when I checked my email that I realized I had indeed
subscribed to the fact I had "supposedly" won a trip.  To tell you I was
pissed would be a total understatement.  I was more pissed at myself than
anything else.  I should have paid more attention to what I was doing!
Nonetheless, the email was confirming I had indeed been selected for the
trip.  I feverishly searched for a button that would allow me to
unsubscribe or something like that, but I realized it was too late as I had
given my details AND credit card information.  I immediately went online to
search for a possibility to cancel what I had introduced and even called
the bank to cancel my credit card and ask for a new one with a new number.
I specifically told them to NOT accept any payment from the website I had
subscribed to by error.  I am a long time client of the bank and know the
manager who told me I had not to worry, that they would do the necessary.
I relaxed a little.

	The following day I got a phone call.  They guy at the other end of
the line, told me that I had indeed won the trip.  I immediately asked what
was the trick behind all this.  He assured me there was no trick at all.
When asked why they needed my credit card details, he said it was just to
be sure I was an adult and so above the age of 21.  I told him that the
credit card was already cancelled and that no payment whatsoever would be
accepted at my bank.  He reassured me that it was ok as they had absolutely
no intention to ask for any money.  He admitted they would try to sell me a
few things, but that there was no obligation at all.  I didn't leave
anything doubtful to him that I was not gonna purchase anything.

	The conversation after that went smooth.  I caught myself trying to
imagine the guy calling me, based only on his voice that was really
pleasant and even ... yes, sexy.  I let my imagination wander and tried to
picture him at a desk of a call center, surrounded by hundreds of other
people who would be, of course, totally anonymous and ugly. He would be the
only nice-looking guy in that office.  As the conversation progressed I
discovered he also had a good sense of humor.  I also detected that he
probably was a foreigner as he had a light accent but I couldn't say from
where.  That's the problem with call centers; you never know where they are
located.  So I asked him and he said he was currently only a bout a hundred
kilometers from where I lived.  He asked me what kind of importance it had.

	-If you were close, I would probably invite you for a coffee or so,
because you genuinely sound like a nice guy.

	I must have startled him as there was a sudden silence at the other
side of the line.  I guessed I had been a little to blunt and immediately
apologized.

	-You don't have to apologize, he said, it is only that we don't
have a lot of people paying us a compliment when we call them.  I
appreciate the invitation and if I was indeed closer, I would probably
accept.

	That was nice of him, wasn't it?  But he soon got back to
professional mode and explained the conditions and requirements to collect
my prize.  I listened carefully and when he was finished I asked him to put
all he had said in an email so that I could read it all over again and
understand it all as I should.

	The conversation came to an end and he finished following the
company's protocol by stating his name and agent's number.  That's how I
learned his name : Frank.  The name didn't give me any indication about his
origin.  In the silence of my home office (I am self employed) I tried to
hear his voice again and I fantasized about Frank The Caller.  He didn't
know it, but he had brought some sunshine in my dull and grey life.  I had
a smile on my face for more than an hour, till my jaw started to ache.

	I had to get some work done.  As I said, I am self employed.  I am
a certified translator and my current job was the translation of a book.
The style in which it was written was nice and the author had, fortunately,
not used a sophisticated or complicated vocabulary.  I had translated such
books in the past and it really took all my energy and knowledge of both
languages: the one I had to translate from and the one I had to translate
to.  Just like reading, I used dictionaries of the old kind, not what you
find on the Internet.  The free translations on the Internet are not really
worth much and when you find a real worthy one, it is damned too expensive.
So, I had a collection of dictionaries and used them quite frequently.  I
loved it when I discovered new words or words with double meanings and from
one language to another it was sometimes difficult to express what the
author really meant.  But that was exactly what I loved about my job :
understanding the author and translating "high fidelity" as I called it.
The most difficult part was when it was a book that described a lot of
feelings.  Feelings are really hard to translate and that was why I
systematically refused to translate poems.

	I was concentrated on a hard part of the book when my computer
announced by a beep that I had received an email.  It was from Frank's
company.  It was really very detailed and everything Frank had told me over
the phone was mentioned.  At the bottom I learned his complete name : Frank
Ab Doulah.  Hmmm... a Western name with a mid-eastern surname.  That was
not usual.  Only two possibilities came to my mind and that was first that
his Arabic name was to difficult to understand or to remember or second
that his parents, despite being from the Mid-east, were already a long time
in the Western part of this world and adapted to another mentality.
Anyway, the image I had formed in my imagination earlier, changed
drastically.  The sexy voice had made me think of a dirty blond guy with
green eyes and now a new image came to my mind of a guy with jet-black hair
and eyes.  In a certain way, with the slight accent he had and the name I
saw on the letter, it all matched a little more.

	As my mind was wandering towards the Arabic Frank The Caller, I
couldn't concentrate properly on my work.  I went to the kitchen for yet
another cup of coffee.  Yes, I am addicted to coffee.  Strangely enough, it
doesn't affect my nerves nor my sleep.  I could drink a lot of this
wonderful beverage and stay calm.  If I drank coffee at night, I had no
problem whatsoever to fall asleep when going to bed.  While in the kitchen,
I let my imagination go freely and I even started to have a hard-on.  I
knew it was stupid to fantasize about a guy I had only heard and never
seen, but as my last boyfriend had left me several years earlier and that I
was too lazy to go cruising, I only had my imagination and my right hand to
have some sexual relief.  I am a very tidy person and have small towels
about everywhere in the house for when I want to masturbate.  If you come
to visit, you won't see the towels, but I know perfectly well where they
are hidden.  My imagination saw a nice-looking Arabic guy, with dark skin.
An open white button-down shirt hanging lose over his broad shoulders and
his trousers open revealing a nice cock surrounded by black trimmed hair
coming from a treasure trail and a hairy chest. I reached an orgasm quite
quickly after unfastening my jeans and beating my meat to satisfaction.

	I went back to work after that, more relaxed.  When concentrated I
lose completely the notion of time.  I can work hours in a row without
realizing it.  Most of the time, I don't even hear my door bell or the
ringing of my phone.  As I said, the translation was pretty easy and I
didn't need the full concentration.  That was why I heard my phone ring.
Automatically, before picking up the phone, I looked at the huge watch on
the wall and saw it was past 6pm.  I didn't expect any calls.  Being
self-employed, every call can be a new source of income and looking at the
caller's ID, it was a number that was not in my contact list, but I
couldn't afford to not answering it.  It was indeed a new client who had
been recommended by an existing one.  I listened carefully to what he
wanted .  I couldn't avoid to think about my conversation with Frank and
realized that, once again, the guy on the other side of the line, had a
sexy voice, too.  What was happening to me?  Was I really in such a
desperate need of a man to find all voices sexy?  Floren (that was how the
guy introduced himself) had clearly a Latin accent.  My God!  It was the
day of the foreigners... although that was nothing extraordinary
advertising I was a translator.  He told me it was an erotic novel and a
gay one at that, asking if I had any problem with that.  Of course I
hadn't, but didn't say it so clearly.  I just mentioned that I was a
translator and that the contents of the translation had no importance to
me.  He then insisted that there were some specific graphical descriptions
of sex.  I insisted that the contents were not of my concern.  It was
strange as I almost could hear him smile.  Floren wanted us to meet and
even though I told him it was not really necessary, he still wanted a
meeting.  I wondered why.

	-I have to give you the manuscript because it is literally that :
written by hand on paper.  I don't even have it in a digital form.  I could
scan all the pages if you want, but prefer not to.  The translation can be
digital, but the original work has a special meaning to me.

	OK!  That gave me the explanation.  We arranged to meet during the
following week.

	Just like when I had my conversation with Frank, I couldn't
concentrate on my work when I finished my phone call with Floren.  Just
like in the morning, my nerve endings in my genitals seemed to wake up.
Yes, it had been awhile since I last had a man in my arms and in my bed,
but was that a reason enough to get so worked up?  I saved and closed the
document I was working on as I knew I wouldn't do anything useful anymore.
I sat there, thinking about my two phone calls and realized I couldn't get
back to any of them.  Where was my head?  In normal circumstances I always
ask for a number as to be able to call back.  I hadn't done it, neither
with Frank nor with Floren.

	What I needed was a mindless occupation for the evening.  Maybe I
could watch some television.  Unfortunately there are no more interesting
programs shown, so a mindless thing would be easy to find.  While browsing
the channels, my mind went back to me two calls.  Stupidly enough, I was
thinking about who I would choose if I got the chance, based only on the
sound of their voices.  In both cases, the voices were sexy.  Both voices
appealed to me and even more, both voices had waken up my hormones.  I
tried to think rationally but didn't succeed very well.  I let my mind
wander and my imagination took the lead.  Without really knowing it, my
jeans were open and the elastic waistband of my underwear was under my
balls.  I was stroking myself and even got to the point imagining having
the two sexy voices servicing me at the same time.  Oh yes!  I was worked
up and soon shot my second load of the day all over my belly.

	The following morning I woke-up rested and full of energy.  My
first task in the morning is always preparing my first mug of coffee.  I
live in a penthouse and have a huge terrace, so most of the mornings I
enjoy my coffee standing naked at the floor to ceiling window, admiring the
views.  It was the view that made me buy the place.  When I bought it, it
was in a disastrous state, but I saw the potential and the price was really
low.  I did most of the repairs myself and just had to contract
professionals for a few major changes.  All in all, even with the
refurbishments, the total amount of money spent was low for the place I
had.  Once my first mug of coffee was empty, I prepared a second one that I
took with me to the bathroom.  The huge shower stall I had installed was my
pride and joy.  When I had visitors, I always insisted on a shower and it
was not for hygiene purposes only.  I loved to start the preliminaries
under the cascading warm water.  It loosened the muscles of the body and
softened the skin.  Even, like that morning, when showering alone, I
indulged is a long session in the shower, washing my body thoroughly and
most of the time enjoying a good morning meat-beating.  Sometimes I wonder
how many millions of baby makers had gone down the drain.

	I dressed in my usual attire, meaning jeans and T-shirt and my
Nike's.  It was a Saturday and that meant I would go to the local fresh
market to find the necessary fruit and vegetables for the week.  I knew
most of the vendors as I was a Saturday regular.  The weather was splendid
and seeing the blue sky and the bright sun lifted my spirits.  Yes, I felt
happy.  What was different, was the fact that I paid a lot more attention
to the voices of the people.  I caught myself closing my eyes to be able to
concentrate on the voices.  Some of them were just commonplace.  Some were
really annoying.  Very few were as sexy as the voices of Frank and Floren,
except maybe the guy I was buying my fruit from.  He had a really sexy
baritone voice.  The problem was that when I opened my eyes, he was not
attractive at all.  Apart from his voice, his only asset was his smile, but
the rest didn't appeal to me in anyway.  He was nice though.  The only
other guy I thought was really attractive, had an attitude and a voice that
matched : completely arrogant and pretentious and that was a real turn-off.
But hey... I didn't come to the market to find a husband or a lover,
although you never know where love will meet you.  It CAN be at the fresh
market!  Just as it can be on a dating site or in a gay bar.

	After finishing my purchases, as usual, I went for a coffee in a
little bar just around the corner.  Once again I caught myself listening to
the voices.  I wondered where this new habit came from.  Of course, Frank
and Floren had both piqued my curiosity and I wanted to hear new voices or
at least listen with new ears.  It was incredible what I heard when I
closed my eyes.  I could imagine how blind people only had their ears to
get information about their surroundings.  I would have to investigate a
bit more about it.  It was not only the voices that intrigued me.  I
quickly learned that different people also were using different
vocabularies although they all spoke the same language.  That made me doubt
about some translations I did.  Depending on who was going to read
something, the meaning I gave to some sentences could change.  It put my
work in a new perspective.  With that same new perception of sounds, I
realized my ring-tone on my cellphone was really annoying.  I had to change
it, because if it was annoying me, it could also annoy other people.

	What I realized as well was that sounds had different vibrations.
I wondered how I could analyze what kind of vibration my own voice had.
Maybe my voice made people run away?  Was the reason of my solitude due to
the sounds I was making?  And if it was, could I change my voice?  Then
again, I thought that my voice appealed to some and not to others.  Was
that a good thing to avoid mingling with people I shouldn't?  I knew that
in the past some people said to me that I had a "weird" way of speaking.
Did they refer to the sound and vibration of my voice?  Or was it the
vocabulary I was using, due to an extensive knowledge of our language?  Did
some people think I was weird because I used the proper words in the proper
situation?  Did it sound sophisticated or even irritating?

	One thing was sure: Frank had said he would accept an invitation
for coffee if we were closer to each other geographically.  That meant that
my voice was appealing to him or at least not repulsive.  Floren had not
stopped from wanting to meet.  So both had to be receptive to my voice
because that was the only landmark they had.  In neither case we had seen
each other.  OK, we know of course that the cellphone somewhere distort the
voice.  An electronic devise cannot reproduce the human voice a hundred
percent.

	It made me think about the last person I had gone to bed with.  We
met in a quite noisy place (a night club) and almost had to shout to hear
each other.  I guess we couldn't feel the vibrations of each other's voices
as the music was so loud and sending all kind of vibrations all over the
place.  We had quite quickly abandoned any attempt to hear or understand
each other by words.  As quite usual in those places, we went over to other
sensorial methods, like touching and within the first half hour, we were
kissing while our hands roamed over each other's bodies.  When we came out
of that night club, we were already too far to start any kind of decent
conversation as we were so worked up that the only thing we wanted was to
get naked and enjoy the pleasures of the flesh.  Even in the car we didn't
speak as the guy didn't wait to open my pants, take out my cock and sucking
as if his life depended on it.  Once at his place, we were both naked in no
time and our major concerns was the sexual activity.  He was so good in bed
and did things to my body that made me shiver and shudder all the time.  He
was skillful with his tongue... actually he was skillful with all of his
body.  We each had several orgasms and I remember thinking he was a keeper,
till ... I heard his voice.  I knew he couldn't do anything about it, but
it was a high pitched voice that didn't seem to match with his general
appearance as he looked and acted like a real macho.  Being exhausted after
so much physical activity, I fell asleep and spent what was left of the
night.  As soon as I was awake I accepted the invitation for a shower and
he almost succeeded seducing me with a delicious mug of coffee.  Once again
it was once he started to talk that I had the sudden urge to leave and so I
did after thanking him profusely for the night and the coffee.

	That episode made me think about the guys I had tried, or made an
attempt, to keep them.  Of course, as time flew by, I had forgotten what
their voices really were like.  The thing that completely disappeared over
the days, and even weeks and months, was the kind of vibration their voices
emitted.  At that time, I hadn't the slightest clue that the voice was so
important.  My sudden fascination about the sounds and voices was startling
me.  I had never thought about it before and now, thanks to Frank and
Floren, I wanted to know more about it.  As you can imagine, it was not in
my job that I would find any answers as most of the time, to concentrate
properly, I worked in total silence.  The words and sentences that went
from one language to the other, were only in my head.  I realized I was
engulfed in a silent world to the point it almost scared me.  I was
communicating a lot, but in silence, translating and only from time to time
I had some kind of contact over the phone, but that was it.

	It all made me realize I was in a total solitude.  I even started
to wonder if I was totally asocial.  If you had asked me in the past if I
was asocial, I would vehemently say no.  I considered myself a social guy,
making easy contact even with strangers and could keep an interesting
conversation with whoever it was.  Even while grocery shopping, I would
talk to the vendors and had some nice words for the personnel at the shops.
The reality struck me in the face when I came to the conclusion that
ninety-five percent of the time I was submerged in silence.  It was scary
and I thought about what I could do to change that.  I had tried in the
past to put on some music while I was working, but it had not been a good
idea.  The translations were not as good and it took me much more time to
finish the job at hand.  Would it be necessary to go out more and oblige
myself to speak to more people?  I didn't know, but it was sure worth
trying.  I tried to remember how I felt when Frank and Floren had called
me.  Both conversations were very different from each other.  It was
obvious that the conversation with Frank had given me more pleasure, but
Floren had been quite insistent and that made the conversation interesting.

	Anyway, in both cases I had had a physical reaction.  With both
voices I had found the urge and pleasure to masturbate and that was really
new for me, even more when it was clear to me that it had been caused by
the sound of their voices.  I tried to find some information about it all
by using Google (what else?) But I probably didn't know how to refine my
search to obtain the answers I was looking for.  I got millions of results
about hearing aids, "The Voice" television program, systematic
vocalizations of opera singers and so on.  I could also find some results
about the vibration of the voice in a technical way, written by speech
therapists.  But how on earth was I going to get my answers in the
... silence of my computer screen?  It was interesting to read what was
known about the subject, but it certainly didn't give me practical results.
Would I have to make an appointment with one of the speech therapists?  It
was not such a bad idea after all, but after calling a few of them, I
didn't have one that had the necessary voice over the phone, till I had
Filip speaking to me.  My God!  He had a beautiful voice and I was almost
enchanted by it to the point I almost forgot why I was calling him.

	It took me some time to explain to him what kind of information I
was looking for, pretending it was necessary for me as I had to translate
an article about the subject.  He understood clearly what I needed and gave
me an appointment for the next day, without forgetting to mention his
price.  Jeez, he was not cheep, but then again I had no reference to
compare his price with.  I had no idea what these guys were charging for
their knowledge.  Nonetheless, I thought it was worth it even if it was
only for my personal use.  For him it was just another professional
appointment.  The day of the appointment I was introduced into his
consulting room and I thought I was going to faint!  He was
drop-dead-gorgeous and his voice was according to his physics: exuding
virility, perfectly proportioned and as gorgeous as the guys presenting
themselves to a Mister World election.  I was happy that I had put on baggy
trousers as the combination of voice and body was putting my hormones in
full alert.  I hadn't even shaken his outstretched hand that I could feel a
serious improvement of the size of my cock.  Before I even was invited to
sit down, I had a full and painful hard-on.

	Fortunately I had written down my questions and had a mini recorder
with me.  He gracefully accepted to be recorded.  Filip was very
considerate and tried as much as he could to use everyday words and not
that professional terminology most guys in his situation would use.  It was
good I recorded everything as my mind was elsewhere quite often, trying to
picture him in other circumstances where clothes would not only be
optional, but forbidden.  The few hairs that peaked over his shirt collar
made my imagination go wild where I would play with his chest hair,
following his treasure trail to reach perfectly trimmed pubes.  From time
to time I closed my eyes, concentrating on his voice that was more than
sex-inducing.  The information he gave me professionally suddenly lost all
interest.  I was totally focused on finding a way to see Filip again,
outside his consulting room and without the technicality of what he was
telling me.

	Filip reached out to my recorder and switched it off.

	-Tell me Al (yes, that's me)...  What is the real purpose of your
visit? Filip asked.

	-What do you mean?  I think I explained over the phone that I
needed some information to be able to do my job as a translator, properly.

	-Let me doubt about that translation.  I can understand you want to
know more about the voice and everything that includes it, but... you also
seem to observe me in a particular way.  I apologize if I am mistaken, but
I can recognize it when somebody tries to picture me in other
circumstances...

	I let out a big sigh.  I had not been as discrete as I thought I
was.  There was only one way to not lose his respect and that was to be
hundred percent honest with him.  So, I told him everything that had
happened to me since the first call with Frank and what happened in my mind
about voices and so on.  I didn't leave out any detail and so confirmed his
suspicion was right.  I even told him I found him drop-dead-gorgeous.  When
I was finished, he fell back in his chair, adopting a more relaxed
composure and smiled at me.

	-You are my last patient of the day Al, so... what would you think
about me closing the practice and let's go and have a coffee somewhere?  It
will be easier to talk.



To be continued...

All comments are welcome at      amahy1957@gmail.com