When Kurt walked into the apartment that night he was surprised at the total silence in the usually action packed apartment. It was a moment before he remembered why; Rachel and Santana were going out with some of Santana's work friends, and probably wouldn't be home till late. They had invited him to go with them, but Kurt wasn't in the mood to out lately. New York had been his dream for so long, but now that he was here, that loneliness he had been running from hadn't magically dissipated the way he'd hoped it would. In fact, in the large city filled with gay men, Kurt felt more alone than ever.

Kurt could hear Santana's voice in his mind as he made his way into the apartment and shut the door behind him. Kurt, you need to get out and have some fun. Yeah, like he hadn't tried that. But meaningless hook-ups in club bathrooms weren't what he'd envisioned when he pictured the dating options in New York. You just need to get some. Trust me; you'll feel way better when you break that dry spell. Yeah right; at this rate, that would never happen.

Kurt moved into the kitchen to start on a quick dinner, when a note on the table made him pause. There in Santana's handwriting was a note that looked hastily scribbled.

                                Kurt-

                                Someone called for you while you were at work. Call them back asap, it's urgent.

Below was a number Kurt didn't recognize. At once Kurt tried to think who would be calling the loft with an emergency. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and checked his missed calls. None. Strange.

Dinner abandoned, Kurt picked up the note and typed the number into his phone, bringing it to his ear.

“Hi,” said a breathy voice from the other end.

Kurt didn't recognize the voice, and assumed it must be someone from the office who'd gotten the wrong number to contact him.

“Hello,” he said. “My name is Kurt Hummel, and I got a message to call?”

The man's voice in his ear was husky and deep when it replied. “Oh, yes, Kurt! You got a message? Yes, you were meant to call me. I've been sitting here waiting for so long; I've been getting impatient for you.”

Kurt crinkled his brow as he tried to think if there were any calls he was supposed to be making tonight. He didn't think so, and Isabel had waved him away with a smile when he had let her know he was leaving. But at the same time he didn't want to seem unprofessional on the phone with someone who could be a prospective client.

“Oh, um, I'm very sorry. The message was sent to the wrong number; I hope it hasn't inconvenienced you.”

“No, Kurt, I've just been sitting here waiting for you all day. It'll make it all the better when we start though, right? You'll make it up to me.”

Kurt was a little confused as the voice began to whine on the other end, the breathy quality increasing.

“Um, sure.” Kurt started feeling a little disconcerted at the tone of the call, and tried to get his bearings. “May I ask who I'm talking to?”

“Who do you want to be talking to?”

Kurt's brow furrowed even further. What? “Um, the boss, I suppose.” That was who he dealt with mostly, the heads of company. They had to be high enough up that they were able to talk to Isabel Wright's personal assistant.

“Oh yes, Kurt, I'm the boss around here! I'm going to tell you exactly what I want you to do, and you'll do it for me like a good boy, won't you, Kurt?”

Now Kurt started getting ruffled. Who was this man treating him like he was a little kid? He worked at Vogue! He was personal assistant to Isabel Wright, he did not need some stuck up business man to treat him like a servant when he had just gotten home after a full day at the office.

“Excuse me?” Kurt said, and he could hear the sass under the forced politeness in his tone.

“Yes, Kurt, and if you're a bad boy I won't be afraid to spank you!”

“Wait, what?” Now Kurt knew he'd missed something. Even the weirdest phone calls he'd gotten in New York weren't this strange.

“Oh baby, is that not what you wanted? Tell me what you want, baby, I'll blow your mind.”

Kurt let out a high pitched squeak and brought a hand to his mouth. Oh, no. He lowered his hand enough that he could still be heard and said, “Excuse me, but who is this? Really?”

“Sorry, hun, but rules say I can't give out real names. What do you want my name to be?”

Kurt felt blood rush to his cheeks, and closed his eyes against the embarrassment filling him. “This is a sex hotline, isn't it?” The words were rushed and high, but he couldn't find it in him to care.

The voice on the other end of the line was less breathy when it answered. “Yes,” he said uncertainly. “This is Exotic Pleasures.”

Kurt felt the last hope that this was all a giant misunderstanding leave him. “Oh my god!” Kurt couldn't believe it.

“Didn't you, um… Didn't you mean to call?” The voice wasn't at all breathy now; it was smooth and pleasant, with a deep resonating tone.

“No!” Kurt gasped. “It was my roommate, Santana! She was telling me I should get out more and if I had sex I would be more fun to be around and I'd feel better, and then she left me an urgent message to call this number, and it was obviously a joke, a really terrible joke.”

There was silence on the other end of the line, and then suddenly a bark of laughter.

“Oh god! I'm sorry, it's just- well, I've been working here for quite a while and this has never happened before.”

“Yeah, well. This is just my luck.” Kurt answered. He felt a swoop in his stomach at the sound of the surprised laughter, and he tried to rein it in.

“God, no wonder you sounded so shocked; your roommate must have an interesting sense of humor.” The suppressed laughter was still apparent in the man's voice, and Kurt found himself planning out his inevitable revenge on Santana. It would involve her favorite boots, and it wouldn't be pretty.

Kurt sighed before he replied, “Yeah, the crazy thing is she probably thinks this is for my own good. When I first came to New York I thought… Well, it's not exactly the romantic fantasy I'd planned out in my head. She's trying to help me ‘get out there'.”

There was a matching sigh from the other end of the line. “I know exactly what you mean. When I first moved here I thought it was just a matter of time before some big city, open minded guy swept me off my feet. Then you realize that it being New York doesn't mean the city has less jerks than anywhere else.”

“Exactly,” Kurt replied in a hopeless tone. “In fact, with a population this size there are bound to be more, right?”

The man chuckled, “And with my track record I've met a lot of them.”

Kurt was silent for a moment, mulling over his thoughts before saying, “It's worth it though, right? I mean, it's New York. There's more to the city than just romantic prospects.”

“Oh, of course!” The man on the other end of the line was louder now in his enthusiasm, “I mean, I came out here for school, and it's wonderful. The bright lights and the fast pace, it's what you dream about when you imagine moving to the big city from a small town.” Kurt smiled at the obvious happiness in his voice, but when he continued, it was in a more reserved tone. “That doesn't mean it's not isolating though. With class in the day and this job at night, I don't really get to talk to people often.”

Kurt felt a rush of understanding as he listened to the man's words. “It's the same for me. I mean, I moved out here with two of my best friends from high school, but it feels like they fit in so easily, and I'm treading water, trying not to drown.”   

“I'm not happy that you're struggling to fit in here, Kurt, but I have to admit it helps to know I'm not alone here.” Kurt could hear the honesty in the man's voice, and smiled despite himself.

“What's your name?”

There was an uncertain sound over the phone, and Kurt could hear the regret in his voice when he replied, “I'm sorry, Kurt, it really is company policy that I can't give out my name. It's a safety thing.”

Kurt immediately colored at the reminder of the man's job and why they were speaking at all. “Oh, right, of course, that's no problem-“

“Call me B.”

“What?”

“Just call me B,” the man said.

“Okay, B. I know it was an unusual way to be introduced to someone, but I'm really glad we spoke tonight.”

“Me, too,” B said, “This is definitely not how my calls usually-“

He broke off suddenly, and Kurt took the phone away from his ear to check the connection, but the call was still going. He brought the phone back to his ear, and said, “Hello? Are you still there-,” but he was interrupted by a loud moan.

“Oh, yes! Kurt, fuck my tight pussy! You're stretching me out with your big cock, making me so wet for you, baby!” 

Kurt made a startled sound and felt himself immediately twitch in his pants at the moans and dirty words spilling out B's mouth. Kurt's vision swam in front of him as his cock started to stiffen.

“Yes, Kurt, don't stop, keep fucking me! Yes, yes, ye-, oh god, sorry about that, Kurt. My boss walked past the door and I'm not really meant to be having nice, friendly conversations with my clients.”

Kurt mind was still filled with lust at the noises B had been making, but he had to try and answer in a logical way. He opened his mouth to say that it was no problem, but what came out was, “Pussy?!”

B let out a nervous chuckle, and said, “Yeah, this is the boypussy connection. It's only me and another guy who work here, and he's off tonight.” He gave a self-depreciating laugh. “I'm kind of a commodity around here. That's why I'm meant to get my clients off as quickly as possible so the call line moves pretty fast.”

“Oh, right, I should let you get back to work-,” Kurt began, but B interrupted him.

“No!” Kurt could feel him inhale through the phone, and then his tone was obviously lightened when he continued. “No, please don't. I don't mind working here, I mean, I actually really like working here. After growing up in a city that was quick to tell me how wrong my body is and how no gay man would ever want me, it's affirmation for me every night when people call me especially to tell me how much they want me. But… I wasn't lying to you when I said it gets lonely. Kurt, I've really liked talking to you tonight.”

Kurt's cheeks warmed at his words and his insides fluttered. “Me too,” he said honestly. “And for the record, I can't imagine anyone not wanting you. You're so nice, and I bet you're gorgeous. I mean, just from your voice…” Kurt trailed off, imagining what B looked like on the other end of the line. He stayed away from huge physical traits, imagining the curve of an eyelash against a silky cheek, the shift of steady weight as he leant forward in his chair.

He heard a quiet hum from the other end of the phone, and Blaine's voice was deeper in his ear when he next spoke, not breathy in the slightest, sounding rougher than before. “Yeah? And my pussy? Do you like that too?”

“B.” Kurt closed his eyes against the arousal that flushed though him once more. “That's not why I called you tonight, you know that.”

B's voice was restless when he answered, “I know, I know, but I want you to tell me, Kurt. Does the thought of my pussy turn you on?”

Kurt tried to think of any way to avoid the question, but before he could help himself he had whispered a quiet, “Yes.”

“Kurt, I know you didn't call me for this, but I like you. You seem like a nice guy and I want you to get your money's worth tonight.”

“I can't do something like this, B. I like romance, and-“ Kurt was interrupted again by B's voice, and obvious excited quiver already audible in his voice.

“It's not dirty, Kurt, it's about a connection. I felt a connection to you tonight. Let me make you feel it too.”

Kurt closed his eyes and let his head hit the back of the couch. His voice was high and breathless when he answered. “Okay.”

Kurt heard B shift on the other end of the line, before he spoke. “So, Kurt, what are you wearing?”

Kurt couldn't help the snort that escaped him at the line. “Really?” he said in between giggles. “I thought you were meant to be a professional here? Isn't that a little cliché?”

B laughed, and said, “I'm just trying to ease a newbie into it. That was simply for your benefit.”

“Oh sure,” Kurt replied, glad for the break in tension. “Well, I'm still wearing my suit from work.”

“Jacket and tie?” B asked.

“Yes.”

“Take it off.”

Kurt inhaled sharply. “What?”

“Everything except your pants. Take it off.”

Kurt eased the phone away from his ear and took a deep breath before he started stripping his jacket from his shoulders. When he was in just his pants he moved the phone back to his ear and said, “Okay.”

“I wish I could see you, Kurt,” B's voice said in his ear. “I bet you're as gorgeous in person as your voice is over the phone. I want to touch you. Put a hand on your cheek, baby, then slowly drift your fingertips down your neck.”

Kurt did as he was told, running his fingers softly over the skin that was rough with stubble after a long day. “Now run that hand down your chest, Kurt, but don't touch your nipples.”

The hand trailed down further, over the few hairs on his chest, moving lower over his stomach, which tightened at the contact. Kurt sucked in a quick breath at the feeling, and B's voice was even lower when he spoke again.

“Trace back up, Kurt, just like I would if I was there with you. I'd put my hands all over your chest, Kurt; feel that soft skin, just teasing you until I couldn't hold wait any longer and had to taste you.”

Kurt let out a groan at the words, and Blaine's next instruction was quicker this time. “Suck on your fingers, Kurt, put them in your mouth and get them wet for me.” Kurt hurried to fulfill the command, swirling his tongue around three fingers and sucking them hard. “Good, Kurt, now touch your nipples. Rub your wet fingers over your nipples and imagine it's my tongue. Are your nipples hard, Kurt? Tell me.”

Kurt gasped at the pressure on his sensitive nub, moving his fingers up and down before he pinched it hard. “Yes, B. They're hard.”

“Is that all that's hard for me, Kurt?”

Kurt swallowed hard while his fingers kept moving over his nipple. “No.”

“Are you hard for me, Kurt?” At Kurt's groan of agreement, Blaine continued. “I want you to tell me.”

Kurt tried to align his thoughts to something that wasn't his straining length, and the constant pulses that were running through his body as he stimulated his nipple. Kurt tried to think of something to say, but all that came out was the main thought running through his mind. “I'm so hard, B. I can feel every movement of my hips because of my pants digging into me. I need to take them off.”

“Yes, Kurt, take them off.”

Kurt immediately moved his hand from his chest to the button of his pants, and when he lowered the zipper he swore he could feel every millimeter of the movement on his pulsing cock.

B was still talking in his ear. “I wouldn't waste any time here, Kurt, I'd take you in my hand right away, and I bet you'd be perfect in my grip, so hard for me.”

“Yes,” Kurt agreed, following the cue and grabbing his cock and squeezing slightly to take off some of the edge.

“I'd want to suck you off, but I don't think I'd be able to wait, my pussy's already throbbing just thinking about it.”

Kurt's hand was moving in long, smooth strokes up his length before he made the conscious decision to do so, and he moaned loudly. “Yes, B, I want you so bad. Want to feel how wet you're getting just thinking about it.”

“I'm so wet, Kurt, but you'd still have to stretch me out for your big cock. I'm dripping, but it still wouldn't be enough.”

Kurt groaned at the mental image, and he could feel the slide of his hand become easier as more precome leaked from the head of his cock. “Yeah, I'd finger your tight pussy, B. Stretch you out for me until you're loose and begging for it.”

“Yes, Kurt, I need it,” B's words were strained now, his breathing heavy, but the thoughts and images were coming so clear now that the words poured out of Kurt's mouth without filter.

“I'd spread those legs so I could see that gorgeous pussy, B, and I'd fill you right up.”

“Yes, fuck me, Kurt! I can feel you inside me. God, Kurt you'd feel so good, every drag forcing me open for your cock, making me yours.”

Kurt's hand was moving furiously over his length now, the mental images couples with the pure desperation that Kurt could hear in Blaine's voice making the fantasy come to life in front of him.

“You're so hot, B, gonna make me come so hard,” Kurt's could feel his orgasm building, the tightening in his balls, the pleasure coiling in his spine, his toes starting to curl as it built.

B's voice was strained as it cried, “Yes, Kurt, fill me right up. Come for me.”

And Kurt was gone. His muscles locked as he started coming, and he threw his head back against the back of the sofa as starbursts flickered behind his eyelids. He didn't realize he was still moaning his release until his voice gave way with a hoarse whine.

When Kurt finally felt his awareness returning to his extremities, the only thing he could think to say was, “Wow.”

“Kurt, that was so hot,” B's voice was saying in his ear, deep and scratchy, his arousal still obvious.

Kurt let out a confused sound and said, “You didn't come?”

B groaned in frustration and said, “Working here doesn't actually give you the privacy you'd think. I won't be able to get off until I get home and I'm so wet right now.”

Kurt felt his cock throb again at the thought of B sitting uncomfortably in his desk chair, desperate and not able to get off until the end of his shift, and he tried not to analyze the meaning behind it.

“Seriously,” B continued, “I don't think I've ever been this turned on from a caller.”

Kurt hesitated before his next words. “Will you think of me? When you get off later?”

B let out a moan, “God, yes, Kurt, definitely. This was so hot.”

“Well, I have to say that this was the hottest phone sex I've ever had, but I don't have a lot to compare it too.”

“Oh, god. Please don't be a bad idea.” The words were soft, and Kurt knew they weren't for his benefit. B's next words were so rushed that Kurt could barely understand them. “Can I see you?”

Kurt could barely hope, but… “What?”

“Would you be interested in maybe, um, meeting up sometime? I'd like to get to know you.”

Kurt felt a thrill rush through him at the words and he hurried to reply. “Yes! I mean, I really enjoyed speaking to you.”

“Okay. Here, let me give you my actual number.”

Kurt hurried to copy down B's number onto the first bit of paper he could find.

“Okay, well…” Kurt couldn't stop the grin spreading across his face as he looked at the digits he'd copied down. “I'll call you tomorrow, B.”

“My name's Blaine.”

Kurt's grin grew even more. “Blaine. I'll speak to you tomorrow.”

“Looking forward to it, Kurt.”

When Santana arrived back at the apartment in the early hours of the morning, completely steady in her heels despite what she'd had to drink that night, she headed to the kitchen for some hangover prep work.

As she passed the coffee table she spotted her note from earlier with a cell phone number scrawled in Kurt's handwriting across the bottom, underneath the crossed out number for the phone sex line.

Damn, Hummel.  

She congratulated herself as she continued towards the kitchen. She always had the best ideas.