Kurt Hummel was nothing if not determined.

This production would help him finally gain the respect and fame he wanted, if only at NYADA. It was a start. And the role of George, the shy nineteen year old virgin in the big city, was perfect for him.

Partly because he was a shy nineteen year old virgin in the big city. Not that he would tell anyone that. The only obstacle, as Rachel had pointed out, was maybe that he was even shyer than George.

Well, not shy exactly. He had more standards than George. George, who desperately wants to have his first sexual encounters, now that he is in Chicago.

Kurt on the other hand was just fine. He didn't want meaningless sex. His dad had talked to him before he went off to New York for college. A long, embarrassing talk that Kurt tried to forget while simultaneously keeping the core message close to his heart: You matter.

And Kurt did know that. He didn't want sex, he wanted love. He wouldn't admit that out loud just like he wouldn't admit to the nineteen-year-old-virgin thing, but he did.

And he was determined to make his second year in New York his year. He didn't need boys. He didn't need love. He had his friends; even Santana had mellowed some and was now one of his closest friends along with Rachel. He had his dad. He didn't need boys. He would focus on his career.

He only had one small problem. The role of George would include his sexual awakening of sorts. His journey to the big-city-boy he wanted to become. Or something like that. Kurt thought it was stupid to be so fixated on sex. How was sex helping someone become more sophisticated?

Nonetheless, if Kurt wanted the role, he needed to be able to at least act like he knew how sexual awakening could be portrayed.

His audition was tomorrow. It was already a callback, which meant that Kurt at least fit the role to some extent. But now he had been given part of the script and he would have to nail it. He had to. He would play George's first time calling a sex hotline, all eager and uncomfortable and shy and aroused. Who wrote stuff like that?

Kurt sighed one last time and gripped his phone tighter. His hands were kind of clammy already, which he found disgusting. But he had to do this. And he had to do it now. Before Santana came home from work and Rachel came home from her Funny Girl rehearsal.

Kurt rolled his eyes at himself. If he couldn't even dial this stupid number he had found on some website (after which he had immediately deleted his browser history, thank you, Santana, there's nothing to see here), how was he supposed to play this role tomorrow, in front of a few people? Or, if he eventually got the part, in front of an even bigger audience later on?

Determined. He was determined. With more force than was necessary for a touchscreen, he pressed the call button and waited with baited breath for someone to pick up.

 Of course, no one actually did pick up; an electronic voice asked for his credit card details and stuff beforehand.

It helped Kurt relax some; doing something he had already done more than a dozen times before.

But after that, he only had to listen to The White Stripes' ‘I just don't know what to do with myself' for a couple of seconds (he approved of the cliché music choice) before a voice spoke up.

"Well hello there, Sexy, how may I help you on this fine afternoon?"

The voice was smooth and velvety sexy. Kurt leaned back on his couch, wrinkling his nose.

"So, we just jump right into it?" he couldn't help but ask, still unsure how this was supposed to work.

 He heard a noise that sounded suspiciously like someone trying to suppress a laugh.

"I don't know, Sexy, what would you like to do? What's your name?"

Okay. Kurt was already irritated by The Sex Voice, as he dubbed him. Sexy, seriously? That was the best he could come up with? How classy.

"What's your name?" he answered, petulant and not caring.

There was a short pause. "Max", the guy finally said and Kurt smirked. This worked out rather well, the guy George calls in the scene he would have to play tomorrow was also called Max.

"My name is George", Kurt said, still smirking and slowly feeling more confident.

He heard a startled breath through the phone. "Well, George, it's nice to meet you. Very nice. Is there anything I can do to make your afternoon better?"

Kurt wrinkled his nose again. The way the guy had pronounced his name was- weird. Even more important, Kurt was not turned on in the slightest. It appeared like this guy wasn't very good at what he was doing. Or maybe it was Kurt's fault. He still felt uncomfortable and didn't know how to proceed from here. Did he have to do all the work here? Wasn't that Max' job?

"I-", he faltered, then decided to push through, "I don't know, Max. Isn't there some kind of procedure we could follow?"

This time, the guy didn't even try to muffle his laugh. Kurt had to say that it was lovely. Lovelier than his forced sex voice.

"Is this your first time calling, honey?" Max asked and Kurt blushed even though he was more irritated than embarrassed. The Sex Voice surely didn't help him feel good.

"Oh wow, how did you guess?" he asked, deadpan.

Max seemed to realize that Kurt was annoyed, because he backpedaled quickly.

"Sorry, sorry. It's no problem, it's great talking to you. I feel special, being your first. Let's just- let's start with what you would like us to do, okay?"

Kurt rolled his eyes but tried to relax. He was paying a horrendous amount of money for this; he should at least try to get something out of it. He was George. Shy and eager George.

"Okay. Well, this is my first time and I'm not sure.. What do you normally do with other people calling you?"

Kurt was quite proud of himself. He sounded so believable like a shy and naïve boy, wanting this.

It seemed to catch Max off guard after how the conversation had started. Kurt relaxed some more and propped up a cushion lying next to him. He had this role in the bag.

"Well", Max seemed to actually ponder the question and his voice, while still smooth and velvety, had lost its forced sex-edge. Kurt preferred it this way. "Mostly, guys tell me what they would like to do to me or I tell them what they should do to themselves. It's pretty simple."

Kurt nodded, though no one could see.

"Right. So, what do you look like?"

Again, there was a short pause and Kurt began to wonder if Max did this on purpose. The longer they talked, the more money he would get, wouldn't he?

"What do you want me to look like?" was the stupid answer.

"Seriously? That isn't a cliché answer at all."

Damn. Kurt had to keep reminding himself that he was George. George, who wouldn't be sarcastic and bitch-y. But Max only laughed again.

"Well, George, does it matter what I look like? Just imagine someone you would like to do this with."

He seemed patient and Kurt was suddenly glad that it was Max and not someone jaded who wouldn't have any patience for a young naïve kid like him.

"What, like Taylor Lautner?" he couldn't stop himself from asking. Max sniggered. "Sure, if that turns you on. Or maybe someone a little more- approachable? Someone this could happen with in real life?"

"You don't think I could have sex with Taylor Lautner in real life?" Kurt interrupted, and then bit his lip. This bordered on flirting. Was he actually going to flirt with some guy on a phone sex line?

The little huffed out laugh send a thrill down his spine and Kurt had his answer. Yes, yes he was.

"Of course you could have sex with Taylor Lautner if you wanted. But you would have to track him down first, so maybe.. an old boyfriend? Or have you never had a boyfriend? Then maybe someone you-"

Kurt felt the need to interrupt again. "Of course I've had a boyfriend, how young do I sound exactly? No, don't answer that. This is just how my voice is."

Kurt hated that he still felt defensive when it came to his voice, even when confronted with someone who got people off for money.

"Nonono. No. I didn't mean it like that. I just didn't want to assume. You have a wonderful voice. It's sexy."

Kurt snorted.

"I'm serious. I like your voice. It's melodic."

Alright, Kurt could understand why people paid money to call these hotlines. This was kind of awesome to hear.

"Thank you", he preened, even though it was clear that Max would tell him any compliment he wanted.

The low laugh he heard in reply made him blush even more.

"You're welcome. Now.. Do you have someone in mind?"

Kurt thought about it and decided that Adam would just have to do. He had certainly been agreeable to look at. Kurt had noticed. And he had felt agreeable, his arms and his ass and-

"Yeah. Yeah, I do. Though I feel slightly pervy, thinking of my ex-boyfriend while doing this. And I feel bad for you. I'm sure you are.. eye-catching. But I will have to think of Adam since you won't tell me what you look like and it's not like-"

"George. George! You're rambling. I'm sure your ex-boyfriend won't mind. I'm sure he has thought of you when he jerked off. And it's not like he will know. And I promise I don't feel offended."

Kurt took a deep breath and had the sudden desire to tell Max his real name. It sounded so foreign to be called George. But he was calmer now and nodded to himself.

"Right. Okay. Sorry. I'm good now", he assured Max.

"Awesome. Are you comfortable?"

Kurt bit his lip again and looked around. He should have done this in his bedroom. True, the partition didn't really offer that much more privacy but it was at least a bit more intimate. He stood from his couch and went over to sit on his bed, closing the partition curtain behind himself.

"Yes, I'm comfortable", he said, leaning back against the headboard. He could hear the smile through the phone when Max spoke next. "Very good. I'm comfortable as well. What are you wearing, George?"

Kurt looked down at his outfit. "Dolce and Gabbana."

The laugh stuttered out of Max against his will, it seemed.

"No. I mean, that's very nice, but I meant.. like, what are you wearing? A shirt? Jeans? Nothing at all?"

Kurt blushed again. Of course. God, he was so bad at this.

"Well, I'm definitely not naked, otherwise the D&G comment would have been weird. I'm wearing jeans. A shirt with a tie and a vest."

Well. That didn't sound sexy at all. What was wrong with him? Could this get any more awkward? But Max just hummed, contemplatively. "That sounds really good. I'm sure they fit you just right. However, I would love to peel them off you."

His voice was deeper again, more sexy, but this time it didn't irritate Kurt. This time.. it kind of turned him one. He blushed some more and tried to even his breath.

"I-", he took another deep breath and laughed breathlessly at himself for being so flustered. "I don't really know what to say to that."

"That's ok", and wow, Max seemed eager now, not hesitating anymore before answering. "You don't have to say anything if you don't feel like it. I just want to make you feel good. And since I'm not there to help you out of your impeccable clothes, maybe you could do it? You could start with your tie; unknot it slowly, feel the material-"

"Silk", Kurt interrupted stupidly, but couldn't really control the way his breath had gotten shallow and faster as he began to untie his grey tie from his neck with the hand not clutching his phone.

"Silk", Max repeated smoothly. "Are you untying it, George? I'm sure the silk feels good against your skin. But it's better now you're free of it, because I would love to see you in fewer layers. You could also unbutton your vest; we don't really need it, do we?"

Kurt had never been so careless with his clothing, flinging his tie on his night stand and his vest onto the floor. "No, no, we don't", he managed to whisper; before he remembered that he hadn't really called to get off. This was preparation for his callback. He had to do this right and just because Max managed to turn him on with his sex voice in a way Chandler and Adam had never been able to in real life was no reason to lose his head. The only problem was that there wasn't even that much blood left to circulate in his brain right now.

Kurt shook his head and cleared his throat. He really had to get himself under control. What was wrong with him?

"George? Are you ok? I hope you've lost both the tie and the vest. I even think we should start working on the buttons of your shirt. I want to feel what's underneath."

Kurt bit his lip and pressed the heel of his hand against his growing crotch, hoping that it would get the message that this was not the time. Unfortunately, it only twitched in anticipation and Kurt groaned quietly. But not quietly enough.

"Do you like that, George? I'm sure someone with an immaculate style like you gets turned on by clothes, don't you? I think you should start with the top buttons, loosening your collar a bit. Feel the skin of your neck. I bet it's really smooth. Or do you have stubble, George?"

Right. Kurt had to say things, too. That was the whole reason for calling. He had to get more comfortable with talking about this stuff.

"I don't. I take my shaving responsibilities seriously."

What was wrong with him? Who said that?

But Max didn't seem put off. "I'm sure. I approve. I wish I could touch your smooth skin, help you out of your clothes button per button. Feel the skin underneath your shirt while unbuttoning your shirt slowly."

His voice was even more gravelly and Kurt couldn't help but follow his orders, unbuttoning his black shirt and stroking the skin that got exposed with every button. Max was better at this than he had thought. He really sounded turned on by describing these things Kurt was doing to himself.

"It feels good", Kurt answered in a lower voice than he had anticipated. "I'm nearly done with all the buttons. It feels good to feel my skin, my nipples. But I wish it were your fingers instead."

And yes, this was good. He was finally getting into it and he wasn't even blushing anymore. He thought of Adam and his big hands, his slightly calloused fingers from playing guitar and shuddered.

Max took a surprised breath and groaned. "I wish it were my hands as well", he answered, and no, that wasn't Adam's voice.

Kurt imagined what he would look like. The Sex Voice was so, so nice. He couldn't un-imagine the calloused fingers, but it didn't matter. They suited the voice. Kurt bet that he could sing. And play guitar. With a voice like that he would have to be sex on a stick, playing the guitar, sitting by a fire on a beach and- seriously, what was he thinking about?

He opened the last button of his shirt and shrugged out of it, pushing it off the bed.

"I've taken off the shirt now. It feels good, less restricted. I'm going to put you on speaker phone now. I want to be able to use both my hands."

Max groaned again through the phone and Kurt smirked. This was good. He just had to describe everything he was doing. That was easy.

"Touch yourself", Max growled through the phone. "Touch your chest and your neck and your nipples. Are they stiff?"

Kurt rolled one between his fingers and hitched out a breath. "Yes, they are. Though I'm not sure if that's because I'm turned on. It's kind of cold in here."

And then he wanted to slap himself while Max laughed breathily. "Sorry", he murmured. How many ways were there to ruin the mood?

"No, it's ok. This is good. I like that you're honest. I want to know how you feel. And laughing is good, right? This should be fun for you, too."

Kurt nodded, closing his eyes while he continued to roll the left, then the right nipple between his fingers while his other hand was trailing downwards, over the scarce hair between his belly button and his groin.

"If you're too cold you should get under the covers. I mean- are you in bed, George?"

Kurt opened his eyes again and looked at his phone. Right. He wasn't alone in this. He contemplated whether he was too cold but actually, the cold air was kind of nice on his slowly overheated skin.

"I'm in my bed, yes. But I don't think I'll get under the covers. This is nice; the air helps that things won't get too hot too fast."

Max hummed again. "Good. I'm imagining you in bed, touching yourself, maybe pinching your nipples-" Kurt pinched his left one and felt the sharp pain send electricity right to his groin. He groaned and let his other hand trail even lower over his still buttoned up jeans, "-just enjoying feeling your own silky skin. What about your other hand? Is it going south already? Do you think it's time to peel yourself out of your jeans?"

Kurt mmh-ed in response and began to unbutton his jeans, the strain of his hardening dick already making it more difficult.

"Are the jeans tight, George? I can't help but imagine that you're wearing skintight jeans."

Kurt smirked. "You think I'm your teenage dream, Max? Turning you on with my skintight jeans?"

Max barked out a surprisingly loud laugh. "I like you, George. And would you mind if my answer was yes? You haven't answered my question yet, though."

Kurt finally managed to open all of his buttons and began to shimmy out of his jeans.

"They are really tight, you're in luck. Right now they were uncomfortably tight. I nearly couldn't get my buttons to open."

And huh, who would have thought how easy this was? Kurt was actually having fun. He was really, really turned on and having fun. No wonder people regularly paid for this.

"That sounds amazing, George. Are you already hard for me then? Tell me what you are doing now."

Max' voice had become more gravelly and wow, this was scorching hot.

Kurt was nothing if not a performer and it seemed he had a very appreciative audience right now. Putting on a show had never been difficult for him.

"I'm out of my jeans now. Just wearing my Hugo Boss black boxer briefs. Even those feel too tight right now, because I am so hard. You are really good at turning me on, Max.  I wish it was your hand touching me right now, gripping my cock and stroking slowly. Building up the tension. I can nearly feel your hands on me, one scratching over my chest, my hard nipples, the other one gripping me even tighter through my briefs. I wish you could feel it, too."

Kurt gave himself a mental high five at the shallow breathing he could hear through the phone.

"Jesus, George. Are you sure this is your first time calling? That is so, so hot. I wish I could touch you. I wouldn't be able to help myself; I would have to push your briefs down so that I could feel your skin. Take off your briefs, George."

It was the first real order Max had given him and Kurt was surprised by how much it turned him on. He was fully hard when he finally shed his last layer away, kicking his briefs off the bed.

"Are they off? Are you touching yourself? Your dick, your balls? Imagine my hands, George, imagine I'm the one doing it. Do you just want to jerk off like this, come over your stomach with me talking you through it?"

Kurt whined and began to jerk himself off faster, listening to Max' voice but not really able to form a more articulate response.

"Do you like it a bit rough? Or do you have any lube? You could also just lick your hand to make it easier, smoother to touch. Lick your hand for me, George."

Kurt obeyed and groaned as soon as his slightly wet hand touched his dick again, the cold air causing him to hiss slightly. But Max was right, this was smoother and better and so hot.

"The noises you make, George. I swear I could just get off hearing you jerk yourself off. Don't hold back, I want to hear you, want to hear you come, wishing I could see you-"

And whatever else Max wanted to tell him was cut off when Kurt heard the door of the loft rattling open and the loud "Honeys, I'm hoooome. Please tell me there are cookies or some nice dinner, baking and cooking is all you gays and hags do all day, isn't it? I have stories to tell you..."

And then the bathroom door closed behind Santana while Kurt was still lying in bed, one hand around his dick while staring at the partition curtain in horror.

The silence on the other end of the phone let Kurt know that Max had heard as well. He grabbed his phone and put Max off speaker phone, speaking in a low rushed voice.

"Sorrysorrysorry. I'm really sorry, I have to go. But thanks. You were really good. I would totally recommend you. And I'm sure you made a small fortune, talking me through all of this, so. Well. Thanks anyways. I wish we could have finished this but my roommate knows no boundaries. Bye!"

And with that, he ended the call, groaning and falling forwards into the cushions, hoping to suffocate himself.

Seriously, Santana had the best timing. He grudgingly got dressed again and took a look in his mirror, cringing slightly at his disheveled hair. He was still painfully hard and crazily turned on, but if he didn't get out of his room soon, Santana would just barge in and he really didn't want her near his bed right now.

Sighing, he went into the kitchen area and got himself a big glass of water, occupying his thought with dinner plans. He would have to finish this later in the shower. Because there was no way he could go to bed without getting off. Max' voice was still ringing in his ears.