Radio Voice

4:59 am

"…and that's it for the Late Late Night Show here on WHOT. I'd like to give a good morning to all those avid listeners out there; this next song is A Morning with You by Nora Gombert. After that Simon Reece will be joining you for Mellow Mornings. This is Fred Ghatti, signing out."

Waking up at the sound of the radio, Ryan rolled onto his back and began rubbing his stomach in preparation for what happened next.

"Good Morning to all you poor listeners out there! This is Simon Reece here on ninety-eight-point-four's Mellow Mornings." The new voice was smoother than the last, deep and velvety and Ryan sighed when he heard it, sliding his hand slowly lower. The voice completed listing off the station's sponsors, and the commercials for those self-same sponsors came on. Ryan paused until the voice came back to continue this morning ritual. Over the next hour he slowly worked his way towards his climax, stopping and starting as Simon Reece's voice spoke briefly between the commercials, the weather reports and the songs. Ryan finally let himself come at the end of the birthday list, which was always the longest unbroken portion of Simon Reece's voice.

Now that he had finished, Ryan listened contentedly to the rest of the radio show, wondering if he had it in him to go for a second round. After all, Ryan's job didn't start until nine.

This was just another typical morning for Ryan, who had begun this morning ritual nearly a year ago after he'd gotten fed up with his old radio station and spent a morning scanning for a new one. The smooth voice of Simon Reece had immediately drawn Ryan's interest.

There were times when Ryan stopped to wonder if he was some sort of pervert, but he had long ago come to accept that this was simply a part, albeit a strange one, of being single and horny.

Ryan knew that, should others discover this bizarre habit of his, they would not only not understand, but also quite possibly recommend professional help. Whether that help should be in the form of visiting a local prostitute, or in the form of a psychologist would depend fully upon whom Ryan were to ask.

But, luckily for Ryan, it was unlikely in the extreme that any of his friends would ever figure out the secret of his little morning ritual.

Once, in the early days when Ryan still felt a bit awkward himself about the whole situation, Ryan had gone to the WHOT website in an attempt to find a picture of Simon Reece. The idea had been that, should Simon Reece be an older balding man, like so many of the other radio voices, Ryan would be able to break free of his cycle of morning masturbation.

Unfortunately the website had been devoid of any images of Simon Reece. There were plenty of pictures of all the other DJ's at the station, but nothing at all of Simon Reece.

There were, from time to time, various fundraisers or events where Simon Reece showed up in person, but Ryan had always shied away from them. Not, as with the picture, because he was afraid Simon Reece would be hideous, but because of a dual fear that either the opposite would be true or that he really would need professional help.

Drifting and listening to that voice, the time passed almost without note before Ryan had to get out of bed and prepare for work.

8:56 am

"You always look so well-rested in the morning." It was Ben who said these words. Ben was a work-friend, who occasionally doubled as an out-of-work-friend, since Ryan had very few of both types. Ben enjoyed teasing Ryan, black coffee and long walks on the beach.

"Only until I see you," Ryan said. He had nothing against Ben, but he worried that some day the teasing would hit too close to home, and Ryan would loose the few friends that he had, after he refused their offers of professional help, of course.

"Why is it," Ben asked the entire, though otherwise empty, lounge, "that you gay men always seem to be better rested in the mornings? Take Kian and Erick for example. They could win the 'most content to be here in the mornings' award here at the office. Now," Ben continued, although Ryan had all but ceased to listen, "The ladies all tell me that it's because they are in a relationship, and stability is what allows them to deal with everything so calmly. But you, you, would win second place in that award, and you," here Ben paused to poke Ryan in the chest, "You are as single as they come. Unless," Ben said, as an idea surfaced in his mind, "unless you had a date last night, and neglected to tell me?"

Ryan heaved a gusty sigh. "Ben, today is Wednesday; who would be dating on a Tuesday night?"

Ben considered what Ryan had said. "That is a very good point. Then what is your method for getting up in the morning?"

Ryan, thinking of the double entendre, smirked. "I listen to WHOT's Mellow Mornings." And why not tell Ben this much? After all, it was only the truth.

Ben's eyes rolled in exasperation. "That crap music?" He asked. "That's your secret?"

"'Soft rock; to keep you mellow in the mornings,'" Ryan parroted the show's tag line. He didn't listen to the show for the music of course. He would happily listen to heavy metal, or even country, so long as Simon Reece's voice was heard.

Ben snorted. "They paying you by commission? Although, if you're an example of how well it works, I might have to start listening to soft rock myself." Ben considered once more. "Actually, if it works that well, I'm going to put it on the overhead. We could all use being a bit more mellow in the mornings, I think." And with that and a strange little coffee mug salute, Ben vanished down the corridor of cubicles.

10:47 am

"God dammit," Ryan muttered to his desk later that day. To his sorrow, Ryan had not realized that it was Ben's turn to pick the overhead music today, and Ben really had chosen to put the soft rock station on. No one could complain, of course, but the terrible music, without the heavenly alleviation of Simon Reece's voice, was making Ryan reconsider his stance on professional help.

Wondering if he could plead temporary insanity, Ryan's whole body twitched as the song First in my Heart by the Chinchillas came on. First in my Heart was undoubtedly Ryan's least favorite song of all time, and he'd already experienced the exquisite torture of hearing it twice today. Visions of throwing office supplies at Ben to see which would land first in his heart convinced Ryan that it was time for his lunch break.

Doing his best to slam the file he'd been working on closed, thereby taking out his aggression on the hapless papers; Ryan pushed away from his desk and signed out for lunch.

Once outside the building, the tension that had been building inside of Ryan dissipated, aided, no doubt, by the lovely cool weather that, while warmer than inside, was more Ryan's preference than the chill of the air conditioner.

Since Ryan had left without inviting any of his coworkers, he decided he would enjoy the day, and make the slightly longer trek to the SunPrint Café. The SunPrint Cafe was one of Ryan's favorite restaurants, although it was too far to convince his fellow lunch-goers to visit very often.

11:02 am

Slipping into a seat, Ryan studied his surroundings as he waited for his order to be called. It was still early for the lunch-rush, and the café was nearly empty. There was a couple talking on the far side of the café, and a small line of people waiting at the counter for take-away.

So then, what, Ryan wondered, baffled at his body's sudden reaction, is starting to make me aroused? It was at that moment that the man's voice from the couple drifted over to him. It was a smooth and deep voice, like sex over velvet.

Is that? No, no way. It just sounds like him. Ryan was too far away to hear words, but he listened to the voice anyway, forcing his body's reaction away as best he could. Pity he's with a girl, because, even if he just sounds similar to Simon Reece—yum.

The man was tall, Ryan figured, based on the length of his well-formed limbs. His hair was dark and tamed, and while the man wasn't elegant in his movements, he had a certain grace about him that was making Ryan's mouth drool. Stupid breeder, Ryan thought as he glared at the woman. Ryan did not allow it to bother him for long, however, because now he had a face to put with the voice from his radio. It was nearly inconceivable that this man was Simon Reece, of course, and Ryan knew that. But, since the fantasy was entirely in his head, Ryan could put any face to the voice that he wanted, and he was sure he wanted this one.

Hearing the number for his meal called, Ryan stood up to collect his food, walking past the couple on his way. He tried to tell himself that he wasn't listening to their conversation, but gave up even that farce when he heard the woman call the man 'Simon.'

It only took the few seconds Ryan needed to pick up his tray for him to decide to ask.

"Excuse me," he said, pausing on his way back to his table. "I'm sorry, but are you Simon Reece?"

The woman gave a girlish giggle, while the man chuckled. And oh, the things that chuckle did to Ryan.

"Yes, I am," said the man, his voice deep and amused.

"Sorry," Ryan said again. "But I thought I recognized your voice."

That deep chuckle sounded again. "I'm surprised; very few people can recognize it. Even my sister here was just saying how different I sound in person."

His sister?! Ryan's mind whirled with excitement at the possibilities, and it took him a moment to realize they were awaiting his response. "I listen to your show every day," he said finally, unable to think clear enough for better.

"Actually," said the sister, "Simon was just telling me how he enjoyed meeting his fans. Maybe you could join us for lunch?" she nudged out an empty chair with her foot.

Ryan stared, stunned speechless for a moment. "You don't mind?" he asked.

"Of course not," Simon Reece said. "Come, sit, introduce yourself. I'm Simon, of course, and this is my sister, Diane."

"Ryan Taylors," Ryan said, taking the offered seat.

And that was how Wednesday became, in Ryan's opinion, the best day of the week.

Diane had suggested he meet them again the next week; apparently she worked at a nearby office, and she and her brother had lunch together every Wednesday. Ryan had hesitated to accept at first, feeling that he'd already imposed quite a bit on their family day, but then Simon Reece had smiled and said he'd like to see Ryan again. Ryan had never been able to resist that voice, and now that it belonged to that man, he knew he never would.

It would, Ryan remarked to himself a few weeks later while en route to the café, have been a lot easier all around if Simon Reece had turned out to be ugly. Or if he were a horrible person. If that had been the case, then Ryan probably would have been able to stop his crush from growing. But it was much too late for that now.

Instead, Ryan found himself once again entering the café, glad that Simon Reece wasn't able to hear his heartbeat as he made his way to the otherwise empty table.

"Hello, Ryan," Simon said, voice deep and smooth as always. "My sister called that she couldn't make it today, so it's just us."

Just…us… Ryan's brain was hardly capable of comprehending this statement at first. But only a few minutes later Ryan had completely recovered, talking easily and naturally with Simon Reece, as he did every week, albeit now without the buffer of Diane.

The topic had, quite naturally, turned to music.

"I don't actually like soft rock all that much," Ryan said, forgetting for a moment who Simon Reece was.

"Really?" asked Simon Reece. "I thought you said you listen to the show every morning."

Realizing his faux pas, Ryan felt his cheeks turning somewhat red. "I do, but I don't listen for the music."

"No?" Simon Reece asked, teasing gently. "Is it our stellar traffic reports? Or perhaps you get off on the birthday list?"

Ryan was sure now that his blush had become a sunburn and would start peeling in short order. After all, he usually finished during the birthday list, though only because it was Simon Reece who read it. Staring resolutely at his plate, Ryan shoved a chunk of hair back behind his ear. "A-actually I listen because it's you," he confessed with some guilt. "You're the only decent radio morning voice; the only thing that helps me get up in the morning." Of course, that statement could go several ways.

The following silence lasted until Ryan could bring himself to look up at Simon Reece once more.

Simon Reece had a rather odd smile on his face. "You really are a big fan of mine, aren't you?"

Ryan's blush returned, and the weight of it drove his eyes back down towards his plate.

"And more than a fan," Simon Reece continued quietly, "Since now you're a friend, as well. And I was wondering…" Simon Reece let the silence rise again until it buoyed Ryan's eyes to meet with his own. "What are you doing this weekend? Say, Friday night? I don't work Saturday mornings, so…" he left the implications hanging between them.

Ryan's mouth was also left hanging as his brain tried to process the question, and then to find the answer among the celebratory fireworks that his synapses had become.

"Yes! Of course! I mean, I'm free," Ryan said as his brain finally caught up.

"Oh good," Simon Reece said before outlining their anticipated date.

Jumping ahead a few days, it is Saturday morning. It was later than usual, as both men stayed up quite a bit longer than normal last night. Simon woke first, smiling when he realized where he was. Looking over at his bedmate, Simon thought he might have a bit of fun and tugged at the blankets until he had the best view of Ryan's body.

"Good Morning to all you poor listeners out there! This is Simon Reece here on ninety-eight-point-four's Mellow Mornings," he said, remembering that Ryan said he always woke up to the sound of his voice.

Ryan twitched slightly, but did not awake.

"It's hot hot hot here in Ryan's house this lovely Saturday morning," Simon continued. "The sun is rising… as are other things," Simon said, a bit surprised at the reaction to just his voice. He had planned to play with his hands as well, but this might prove entertaining in itself. "All you fans out there had better take a firm hold of yourselves, and make sure you have everything well in hand."

Ryan, not yet fully awake, followed the spoken directions with a soft sigh.

"Traffic," said Simon, "is moving rather slowly today, although things are smooth along freeway. There's a rather slippery situation southbound and cars are sliding along the hard surface. It's difficult, but one can squeeze through, if you are careful."

Feeling optimistic at his unexpected success so far, Simon continued, "In the news today, it seems that a large number of roosters have escaped from a local farm." Bemused by the show in front of him, Simon thought he'd try to see how bizarre things got before Ryan realized what was going on. "A local farmer, one Dick Thrusts, said that the cocks escaped by penetrating the wall of their cage. 'Ay-yup, they just kept at it until they could come through it,' he said. Another farmer, Willy Come, was worried that these cocks might screw with others in the area. 'Those cocks're gonna come and screw with my cocks, you mark my words,' he told local cock-hunters. The cock-hunters are trying to use a large vacuum to suck the cocks back into their cages. 'We'll just blow 'em if that doesn't work,' said one cock-hunter."

Simon stopped for a moment, not sure where to continue. He was amazed and impressed that Ryan hadn't fully woken yet- hadn't even fully opened his eyes.

"But farmer Dick Thrusts says he expects his cocks to find their way home. 'Yes, sir,' he told reporters, 'you just wait until the cocks come. They'll come soon enough. My cocks will come-' and they did," Simon added, in a regular voice, a soft chuckle in his throat. "I'm not sure," he said, as Ryan's eyes flew open with his realization of what had just happened, "That I fully understood what you meant when you said you 'appreciated' my morning show."

Ryan, face red and hot enough you could cook an egg on it, pulled a pillow over his head.

"You are, I think," Simon said, sliding his hand down Ryan's body, "One of my biggest fans. And, well, that's just swell," he teased, voice deep and hand rubbing gently.

Ryan pulled the pillow off his head, face now red for an entirely different reason. "You don't think I need professional help?" he asked.

"Mmm, I think you need a professional DJ to show you how to truly 'appreciate' a radio voice," Simon said, voice low and soft, like sex over velvet.