Here is a terrible sex phone line.
“I am wearing a vest, and some cheap boxers. I am sitting in my bed, watching a video of a comedian telling unfunny jokes. I am flaccid. I am thinking of you consuming a weak cup of camomile tea, though I suppose the point of it is that it is merely a hint, rather than a strongly flavoured tea, thus is its light and comforting nature.
My testicles are mildly wrinkled from the day’s exertions. My penis lies like a deflated balloon animal, unloved, unmoving, almost at the point of death, like the freshly savaged weak-point of a video game boss. I now imagine you unbuttoning a button on your blouse’s sleeve and raising a hand to cover your mouth, as you cough. It is rather grey outside. You are not aroused, and we, we are oblivious to our deaths.”