Page 3 of Can I Tell You Something?
“What’s your sister like? Is she hot?” Obviously, I’ve been wondering if I’m about to be shacked up with a forbidden cutie for two weeks. It’s got romance novel written all over it, and I know for a fact my listeners would go nuts for a story like that.
“Bro, don’t you fucking dare hit on my sister.”
“I wasn’t planning on it. I’m just asking what she’s like.”
“Hannah is… complicated.” I wait for him to say more. “She acts like she’s fine, but she puts a lot of pressure on herself and doesn’t always realise when things are getting too much for her to handle. She had a shitty breakup a few years ago and got really ill afterwards, then she threw herself into school and now work, so… we just try to make sure she’s happy.”
I get the impression he doesn’t want to say more, so I change the subject. “What does she do?”
“She’s a lawyer. Works at Dad’s firm, but she’s stubborn as hell, and needs to believe she earned her place there, so she worksallthe time. Every time I talk to her she’s stressed about something.”
The flight attendant re-appears with our drinks, leaning over as she opens our cans and sets them carefully down on our tray-tables.
“Now you boys behave yourselves,” she says with a wink. “But if you need anything, just buzz and I’ll be right with you.” Yup, she’s definitely a good inspiration for a future audio.
“Does Hannah have a boyfriend?”
“Not as far as I’m aware. And she doesn’t need one either.” He turns towards me. “I mean it, hands off my sister. There’ll be plenty of other ski bunnies around if you want to get your dick sucked.”
Ryan does pretty well for himself when it comes to women. LA just has that vibe, everyone’s looking for a good time, and that British accent makes him popular everywhere we go. I’ve dated a little, but it never lasts long, and lately I’ve been more interested in my work than anything else. And by work, I don’t mean my day job, where I’m a sound technician for a television studio in Hollywood.
I’m talking about my extracurricular work. My side hustle as audio porn voice actorMac’n’Please.
When television production ground to a halt in the pandemic, I turned to voice acting as something I could do from home. The more I looked into it, the more audio erotica seemed like a perfect fit. I posted a few recordings on Reddit, built up a fanbase, then set up my subscription only site for exclusive content.
To put it bluntly, twice a week I set up my microphone, take off my pants, tell dirty stories, and jerk off. And it turns out there are many people willing to pay for the pleasure of listening to me moan.
Of course, there’s more to it than that. There’s scripting, editing, not to mention foley work. These audios only sound genuine when the background noise adds to the story, but thankfully my day job has given me plenty of insight into what works. Sometimes I take on scripted work for a couple of writers I know, but mostly it’s just me and my hand doing the hard work, so to speak.
Our attendant friend reappears on the other side of the aisle, crouching by my side with her hand resting gently on my armrest. “Before we take off, are you sure you have everything you need, sir?”
“We’re all good, thank you.”
“Well, if you need anything, absolutely anything you need, you just—”
“We’ll buzz,” I nod. “Of course. Thank you.”
When she’s out of earshot, Ryan laughs from behind his fist, then leans over to punch me in the arm. “Dude, she definitely recognises you.”
Oh God, not this again.
Three women recognised me in a bar a few months ago, and Ryan hasn’t let me live it down since.
“She wants you,” he whispers, taunting me.
“No, she doesn’t. She’s probably trying to figure out if we’re anyone worth knowing.”
The great thing about audio porn is that it can be enjoyed by anyone, anywhere, at any time. It’s inclusive, non-judgemental, there’s truly something for everyone. Based on comments my listeners leave, I know there are women, and men, of all ages and all backgrounds, listening all over the world. So yeah, there’s every chance she might recognise me, but even if she did, I wouldn’t do anything about it.
Mac is a character, a role I play. Sure, he’s also me and my body and my words, but the lines get blurred. On the few occasions I’ve met a listener, they’ve made assumptions about me based on what they’ve heard. And any dates I’ve told have found the whole thing either a confusing turn-off or wanted to record together, which is not something I’m keen to do.
Those women in the bar treated me like a conquest, a prize to be won. I mean, I know that’s what women have to deal with on a regular basis, but that doesn’t make it right.
“I bet she follows your Insta. Look,” he giggles drunkenly, pointing up to where she’s standing in the galley looking at an iPad. “She’s looking you up right now.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
But fuck, maybe she does recognise me.
