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Hey there, furballs, and welcome to the fourth story of Fae's Christmas Music-Themed Special, the 2010 edition! I've been hard at work, putting more music-inspired stories together for this year's Chrissie special, all for your enjoyment!

Today's December 24th, 2010! You've already received the first three stories of the year and this is the last of the normal ones, before we end the Special with the continuation of Cameron and Ryan's story tomorrow on Christmas Day. As with previous years, the stories are based on the themes or titles of certain pieces of music which I enjoy, and this year I'm also exploring some ideas that I don't normally put into my furry pieces! So enjoy some experimental looks into my writing this year, as well as the tail!

Anyway, I've waffled on plenty, now. Onwards, and enjoy the stories!

• Ol' Saint Fae

The Call

He'd known it was a mistake the moment he'd set the phone back in his pocket, but that didn't change Steven's mind. It couldn't. He knew what he needed to do - he knew what he needed - and it didn't matter one little bit to him that what he was doing was 'wrong'. After all, what was wrong? Wasn't denying who one was also wrong? That was what he did every day of his life...

Steven knew his wife loved him. He really did love her too, despite the call he'd made that night and a dozen nights before. The snow leopard didn't even quite know why he still loved her after all the years they'd been together. They were so tied together though, both emotionally and financially, that he couldn't extract himself easily if he wanted to. It was easier to make 'mistakes' and keep them quiet.

She didn't know, of course. How could she? She'd have flipped out and left him if she'd suspected what the mild-mannered little feline she called her husband did when he went 'out with the boys.' Sure, he did go out with the boys, and sure, he sometimes did do exactly what he told her he did. But not that night. Not every once in a while. Every once in a while, he had to make the call.

Janette wasn't a bad female. She was an attractive example of a vixen, she owned and ran her own small business, and she was fun to be around. She was everything most males could dream of. That didn't mean she was what Steven wanted. That didn't mean she was what Steven needed. The ring on his finger? That was a bigger mistake than the call.

He'd told her, flat out, when they'd started dating. He'd told her his tastes, that he was into guys and girls equally, and she'd been okay with it back then. She'd told him his soft blue eyes had just lit up when she'd said that it was fine by her. Idly, Steven wondered from time to time if his eyes had dulled around her as time wore on. As 'okay' with it as she had been, Janette was never interested in having him indulge those desires. She wouldn't even peg him, when he'd asked her to.

She was a proud vixen. She'd worked hard for everything she'd gotten, and she'd earned it through uncompromising effort. Uncompromising. That was Janette. That was the vixen he'd bound himself to, for better or worse. Steven knew it was worse. He knew that even though he earned as much as her, that he was just as successful as she was and just as driven - and just as attractive, though he'd never openly admit it - that she was always the one in charge. It was always her way, or the highway. Uncompromising... uncompromising in the extreme.

His friends knew. They were 'okay' with it in completely the opposite way Janette was. They poked fun at him, they made jokes about it... but they were his friends. That's what his friends did with each other. It made Steven feel more like himself when he was on the end of their playful ribbing. His smiles became just a little less guarded. His ears drooped a little lower. And they, after all, were responsible for keeping his sanity in check.

Terry was gay, but he'd never been interested in Steven. That was fine by the snow leopard; he'd never really wanted to date or sleep with Terry, either. But Terry was the reason why he made the call to Janette, why he told her he was staying at his place for the night after he and the boys headed off to another bar. Terry was the one who took him out in the first place. Terry was always the one who took him out.

Terry alone, of all Steven's friends, knew how rocky his relationship with Janette really was, even though they all knew why he did what he did. He'd been there, he'd done that, and Terry explained to Steven late one morning that the feline couldn't keep going on and living a lie. Not in private, anyway; his public life was a whole other matter, and Terry wasn't about to speak to that. But his words had penetrated all the depression and nasty thoughts that permeated through Steven's mind, and they took root in a quiet place that begged him for a chance to be free. A little voice, pushed aside and silenced well before he'd watched Janette walk down the aisle towards him, spoke up once more.

The weekend after that conversation was the first time Steven called and lied. It wasn't a complete lie; he and his friends did go to a couple other bars. But it was the last one, the one Terry had suggested on Steven's behalf, that had done it. It was one of Terry's favourite hangouts, a gay bar called The Strip. The lie was in regards to his intentions.

The bar was nothing special. Not compared to who visited it, anyway. Males of all species, shapes and sizes filled the bar - no females; Steven had learned later that first night that the bar directly opposite The Strip catered to them - and more than a handful of them looked good. Thoughts and feelings and urges Steven had long ago repressed surged back to the surface that night, as he fixed to get himself good and drunk. After all, he'd actually thought that it wouldn't really be cheating on his wife if he was completely intoxicated. It was an excuse, a mental crutch.

He'd been a little drunk certainly when he'd chatted up the slinky skunk boy who'd approached him. He'd sobered up as that same skunk boy had driven him back to his place, and he was considerably more lucid by the time they pushed past the front door, a tangled mess of limbs and tongues and shed clothes. By the time they'd both been stripped down to their bare fur, Steven had full control of his senses again. The crutch was gone, his excuse invalid.

And, half an hour later, he'd pumped his load into the skunk's backside. He'd chalked it up to the heat of the moment and the lingering effects of the alcohol. He'd assumed that it was nothing more than that, and that it was out of his system. He hadn't stayed the night; Janette was waiting, after all. Steven knew she'd have asked questions if he just didn't come home at all. The feline had thanked whatever powers were watching over him that night as he'd snuck back into the house, showered to get the overwhelming scent of sex off his body, and slipped silently into bed beside his still-sleeping wife. If she'd woken up at any point through that whole process, there was trouble in store for him.

Steven had only seen that skunk once more after a couple weeks, and he'd been completely sober that time. There was no restraint in his mind. He knew what he'd done, knew it was wrong, and knew that he couldn't go without doing it again. The floodgates had been opened. The dam had burst. All the years Steven had held back an aspect of himself broke down even as he berated himself silently for having slipped in the first place. Even when he'd bent the skunk over again, it'd been in the back of his mind. Even as he slid himself down to the hilt in the moaning male beneath him, Steven couldn't pull the sense of wrongness from his mind.

It hadn't stopped him, though. He'd gripped the skunk's hips, pounded that round backside, and then pounded it once more for good measure. The knowledge that his wife couldn't know what he was doing, that he shouldn't have been doing it at all? His heart sang with it. It sent tingles across his body, each time he thrust himself down into the warm, writhing body beneath him.

It wasn't the thrill of the wrongness of it all. It was the sense that, underneath all those layers of wrong and bad and the like, it was right. That he was, finally, able to sate a part of himself that had been left to starve in the dark and cold. The remorse he felt in regards to Janette didn't help the sex any, but the sheer sense of fulfillment that ran through Steven was enough to drown it out just enough. Not completely, but... enough.

_That_night had been a long one. He'd bred the skunk twice more, and even dared to suck him off after he'd worn himself out with the squirming male's backside. The sense of contentment worked him up, gave him strength and drive and stamina beyond what Steven had expected of himself before. There was no going back after that night, and the feline knew it well. He just didn't know what he was going to tell Janette.

When he'd seen her the next day, all three of the different speeches he had planned were stillborn in his throat. She'd actually had a good night's rest, had finished up a big deal at work, and had the whole weekend to relax. He'd seen her smile, a rare glimmer of happiness, and suddenly it seemed like a bad idea to blurt out that he'd been fucking a guy on the side. He decided that he just couldn't do that to her. After all, he did still care. What was the harm in something she didn't know? To tell her would have just hurt her more, anyway.

And so there had been others. In the course of a couple months, Steven had gotten to know the regulars of The Strip, even if he'd not slept with many of them. He began to go there more for the atmosphere, though every once in a while he'd actually get to go home with someone. It was a retreat from his life, a haven of sanity and relief in a desert of chaos and restraint, and that sanity and relief was only a call away...

That was how he found himself led out of the bar by the tall, broadly-built orca he'd spent the better part of the evening chatting up. Janette's phone had died mid-call; she kept meaning to get a new battery, but she found herself too busy to actually do it. It worked well for Steven though, and his long, feline tail lashed behind him with his excitement as the orca invited him into his car. The snow leopard couldn't refuse. His phone, his connection back to the 'real' world, rested in his pocket. He'd switched it off after the call. Janette was gone; she was miles away. She was worlds away, out of sight and out of mind.

The car ride didn't take very long, but the anticipation was enough to keep Steven squirming in his seat. He couldn't help himself, and his pants betrayed that. They bulged, stretched up and outward with his arousal. It didn't help that the orca - Jim - kept one smooth hand on his thigh at all times during the drive. It rubbed and stroked over Steven's legs, worked against that bulge, and teased him enough to make sure that the snow leopard wasn't capable of diverting his thoughts. There was no chance of that.

Steven's eyes drew to the golden ring on the orca's left hand. He'd spotted it in the bar, and immediately inquired once one of the regulars had pointed him the feline's way. It'd been an amazing coincidence, and Steven had actually laughed when Jim had told him that he was married. It was a mirror image of his own situation, and the feline had been more than happy to share his own story once the orca asked. They'd traded notes, shared secrets and little innuendoes, and it had all led to the motel that Jim pulled up at.

The two were out of the car almost before it had even stopped. Grins lit up both of their faces, as if they were a pair of teenagers out on the town past curfew. All the little thrills that rushed through Steven's body pushed to the forefront of his mind again as he was led up a short stairway and into the dingy motel room. It was simple, it was cheap, and it was perfect. After all, the location didn't matter so much as the company... and, of course, what Steven planned to do with that company.

The sheets of the bed were clean, though in the heat of the moment the feline couldn't have cared less. He all but threw himself on the orca, and Jim's arms wrapped back around him as their mouths met in an eager kiss. Steven fell atop the orca as they tumbled down atop the bed, and the impact was enough to briefly break his muzzle from Jim. He felt heat surge through his cheeks as he looked down. "Uh... too eager?"

"Feels just right to me," came the response in the orca's deep voice. Jim just smiled back up at Steven as he began to pull the snow leopard's shirt up and over his head. "Kim's never just thrown herself at me. Kinda nice to see a bit of passion."

With that admission, there was no stopping the feline. Within moments he'd unbuttoned his pants and thrust them right down his legs. They were kicked off as he set to work on Jim's and, seconds later, the orca's fully-hard shaft came into view. Black, slick and as smooth as the rest of the orca's body, the very sight of it sent a tingle down Steven's spine. His paws slowly traced up and over the inside of Jim's thighs, as he leaned back up to mash his muzzle against the orca's once more.

The feline's own malehood pushed up uninhibited, and that smaller pink length of flesh throbbed with Steven's excitement as he pushed down hungrily into the orca's kiss. Those wandering paws shifted, and one stroked up along Jim's side while the other feathered its way between the orca's legs to brush along the thick base of that wet malehood. A satisfied grunt pushed into Steven's muzzle as his fingers began to play up and down that wet malehood, and he shivered as he felt it shift and move against his paw. Oh, he had plans for that.

His fingers slowly curled around Jim's shaft, and the orca's grunts became more insistent as Steven pulled back from their kiss. He watched the orca's eyes open slowly again, and they were only able to remain open a moment before the snow leopard gave the cetacean's malehood a firm squeeze. The grunts turned into moans as Steven's paw began to pump slowly along that thick length, and every downward tug along that smooth, sensitive flesh drew a buck of Jim's hips.

But if Steven had wanted to just jerk the orca off, he could have done that in the alley behind the bar. He had plans aplenty, and he knew his needs that night were considerably greater than any other night he'd visited The Strip. He kept his paw in motion, fingers wrapped tightly around the orca's length as he began to lick and kiss slowly down over Jim's chest. It took a moment for the larger male to figure out exactly what Steven was going, and the breathless trill of his assent was enough encouragement for the feline to hurry himself up.

It was the work of just a couple seconds for him to slide down along Jim's body and off the bed. He felt the orca's shaft rub through his fur all the way down, and Jim shook from head to foot with the sensations that brought. A slick trail of pre marked where it ground across and through Steven's coat. It ran right up to the snow leopard's chin where it abruptly ended, as for the first time in his adult life Steven pushed his muzzle down and wrapped it around another male's length.

Taste and texture exploded across the feline's tongue. The somewhat rubbery feel of the orca's malehood contrasted with the slick, slightly salty taste of Jim's pre as it continued to dribble out of his tip. He could almost imagine the squeak of his lips as he ran them down along the cetacean's shaft, but the imagined sound was drowned out by the considerably more real moans of the male above him. Steven smiled as he took more and more of that shaft into his muzzle; apparently the orca's wife had no interested in sucking him off. That suited Steven just fine. She wasn't there, and he was.

He began to twist and bob his head slowly up and down along it as he closed his eyes. One smooth hand rested on the back of Steven's head, and the touch sent a submissive little tingle through his body. His tail curled around one of his legs, and the snow leopard couldn't hold back the little moan that slipped from between his well-stuffed lips. It was something he'd missed, needed and craved for far too long. All the guys he'd seen at The Strip had been the bottoms, the ones eager to service the feline's cock. Jim was only the second that Steven had dared reverse his roles for, and every nerve in his body started to go into overdrive. That night was different to all the other times he'd gone to The Strip. All it took for him was the thought that, finally, he was really doing it.

That thought drove him onwards, as he pressed his lips tighter down around that throbbing length of flesh. His eyes fell closed as he curled his tongue around the tip of Jim's shaft, and he slurped his way noisily down again. Steven shuddered each time he felt that smooth shaft push his muzzle open wide; it grew thicker the further down he went, and the knowledge of what was to come set his own malehood leaking profusely.

It was an untended pleasure, a delicious little thought that had wormed its way into the absolute back of Steven's mind with his marriage. It wasn't just males that had fallen by the wayside. It was their scent. Their taste. Their feel. Everything about Jim's body set Steven's nerves alight, and the snow leopard moaned heatedly around the shaft that filled his muzzle as he pushed himself down again and again along it. All of his pent up need, all his frustration and regret and lament expressed itself as the orca fed him another slick spurt of pre, and the fluid lingered on the feline's tongue as his moan doubled in depth and strength.

Still, his rational mind held onto the situation. It kept his movements regulated and carefully determined, as broken memories twisted his head this way and that along the cetacean's smooth malehood. His lips wound their way up and down as more of Jim's pre collected inside the leopard's muzzle, enough to slicken it up considerably even as the feline revelled in its taste. He knew there was more to come, and his lips tightened down as he worked to coax it out.

The orca wasn't about to disappoint him. Steven knew intimately what had to be going through the bigger male's mind each time the feline's muzzle slid along his throbbing, sensitive flesh. They were the same thoughts and revels that had surged through Steven himself, when he'd gone home with that skunk boy that first time he'd called Janette. They were the same surges of pleasure, of need untapped and renewed. He heard it in the orca's grunts, smelled it in Jim's strengthening musk, and felt it in the tightened grip on the back of Steven's head. That grip trembled, and his fingers twitched atop Steven's head with the cetacean's exerted will. The snow leopard could feel every ounce of effort it took Jim not to simply shove the hungry feline's head down along his malehood. It showed Steven that he was doing his job. Good kitty. Good cocksucker. He shivered again.

But when Jim's hips started to pump and drive that thick shaft right up into the feline's muzzle, Steven knew he had to stop. The orca was almost to a point where his eagerness would get the better of him as it had with Steven himself one night with a particularly vigorous wolf, years and years ago. He didn't want Jim to pop just yet. Not in his mouth. Not first. He slid back as his paws fixed on the orca's belly, and he pushed up just firmly enough that the hand on the back of his head couldn't keep him down. Steven heard the moans of the cetacean taper off, tinged with the barest hint of a confused whimper.

Realization spread across Jim's face though when Steven pulled off of the orca's length with a brief kiss to its tip. He watched with a grin as the feline slid back up along his body, and caught an eyeful of the snow leopard's shaft as it came to rest on his chest. His own length was quickly ground back against, trapped beneath Steven's tail as the feline ground back down against it. "You sure you wanna do that?" he managed to ask, and there was a little waver in his voice.

It was obvious to Steven that Jim wanted him to, and badly, but that he wouldn't force the issue of the feline didn't want to. It surprised Steven a little, after how frank their conversation and innuendo had been in The Strip. He'd made no secret of what he wanted to do with the orca, the experiences he needed to have again. "More than anything in the world," the feline replied, tone low and sultry as he felt Jim's hands come up to squeeze at his hips.

He'd not been ready for the orca's response, however. That grip on his hips was enough to spin him about as Jim rolled along the bed, and the larger male used his tail as a brace against the floor to manoeuvre himself atop Steven. The feline yowled in surprise, the sound suffused with a waver courtesy of the spark of pleasure he felt as his length ground against Jim's. When their tangled motions came to a stop, Steven could only smile up at the orca that loomed over him. That sense of rightness returned in full force. Strong male above. Him beneath. Perfect.

Then he felt Jim's tip prod lightly down between his cheeks, and he re-evaluated his idea of 'perfect' for a second. It was re-evaluated again once he felt it push in a little harder, then again when his tailring gave beneath the pressure and allowed him entrance. He arched his back as he closed his eyes, and Steven gave up even the subconscious struggle to define how the situation felt. It vanished before the inward push of the orca's shaft, the spread of his muscles by that deliciously tapered tip enough to drive almost all thought from Steven's mind.

Instead of attempting to figure out the how and why and the exact details, Steven just went along with it. The sense of fulfillment that rushed through his body as Jim's shaft filled him again and again was beyond description, almost beyond the purity of sensation. The snow leopard's hips twitched and rocked as he worked himself back and up against the orca's initial few short, slow thrusts. He was ready. He'd prepared himself with a few toys. He knew well what to expect. "It's okay," he moaned back to the cetacean. "Go for it... I'm fine." It was a lie; he wasn't fine. But he could be, if Jim stopped being gentle.

There was a brief moment of hesitation, as the orca's thrusts slowed down a little more. He looked down over Steven's body for a moment as he ran his hands across the feline's chest, and only resumed the pumps of his hips once he was certain that Steven was sure. His thrusts were still slow and deliberate, more out of enjoyment for the sensation of the snow leopard under him as he squirmed. Each little tug of his shaft against Steven's inner walls set them squeezing down around the orca's impressive length, and it brought a moan from his mouth as he leaned down a little further over the smaller male.

Steven arched his back slowly as he worked himself down into the orca's thrusts. His own shaft pulsed heavily, and it twitched and jerked as little spurts of thin pre splattered between their bodies. He grunted at a particularly hard thrust Jim made, and the sound melted slowly away into a moan of intense pleasure as he felt the orca take a moment to just grind his hips flush up against the snow leopard's backside. His tail twitched and lashed between the cetacean's legs as Jim began to pick up the pace; he could feel the orca's control begin to unravel. He wasn't going to be so concerned with being gentle for long, Steven was sure.

And he was right. Only moments later as the feline clenched down hard around Jim's embedded length, the orca's moan sounded a shift in his behaviour. His hands gripped tightly at Steven's sides as he leaned down and over the snow leopard, and he pushed the smaller male into a heated kiss as his hips picked up the pace considerably. Steven's gasps and grunts of surprise were lost to the kiss, muffled almost to silence beneath the sound of their two bodies in motion.

That, finally, was what the feline had been craving with intensity completely alien to him. All those years of being trapped with Janette melted away, faded before the intense feeling of having his body invaded by the orca's magnificent malehood. Each firm push of Jim's hips brought his hips right down against Steven's raised backside, and the feline only pushed himself up harder into them. He worked his body to allow the orca as deep inside him as he possibly could, eager to feel that length of smooth flesh bottom out inside him.

Then he felt exactly what he'd wanted to. He'd heard stories of orcas and other marine-style guys, and the things that they could do. Steven had hoped the stories weren't wrong, but then he felt that firm shaft begin to squirm and shift inside him through Jim's thrusts. Prehensile, that was the word. It flashed into Steven's mind, forced his muzzle open, and tore a moan of excitement from him that was sure to be heard throughout the whole motel.

He shuddered, completely unable to control himself as he felt that shaft that already spread him so well begin to writhe against his inner walls. Jim's hands were almost unable to keep Steven steady, so lost was the feline within his own little world. The motel swam before his eyes before he clamped them shut, the better to focus on the singular, unique experience driven into his body.

Jim wasn't just going to stand there and tease the feline, though. Those snug inner walls continued to squeeze tight down around him, and each little twitch of his shaft from side to side was simply enough to elicit more of them. It drew his thrusts deeper, as if the snow leopard's body was intent on tugging him completely inside. Those muscles milked at his shaft as the feline beneath him mewled and moaned, completely surrendered to the pleasure he was feeling. The eagerness was almost infectious, and Jim found his thrusts increased in pace before he even really knew what he was doing.

It wasn't going to be too much for Steven, though. The snow leopard was completely gone. At that point, nothing could be too much. His whole body squirmed up against the orca, and his malehood ground up along the cetacean's pre-slicked belly as he pressed sloppily up into Jim's kiss. His hips never stopped for a second. He couldn't stop them even if he wanted to. They kept up with the orca's thrusts, and met each one equally. He all but forced himself down along Jim's shaft as he revelled in his position. That was what he needed. Needed bad.

But there was one more thing that he needed from Jim, and it was something that he could feel the orca would be soon able to provide. He whimpered and moaned into the kiss, muzzle worked back against Jim's as he squeezed down harder and wriggled his hips against that squirming shaft inside him. He needed to feel the orca pop. He had to feel that hot load spill into him. He needed to be filled and bred and marked and seeded. He needed to remember what it was like. He needed it more than anything else.

When Jim broke the kiss, Steven knew he was about to get it. He watched the orca as he panted for breath, jaw slack and open as he arched his back. His hips began to simply pound away at the still-somehow-snug backside of the feline beneath him. The overpowering drive of the snow leopard had well and truly gotten to him, and there was nothing left in Jim's mind but the need to give Steven exactly what he wanted. Pure, instinctual drive governed the pump of his hips, as his thrusts grew erratic and his whole body tightened.

Then it happened, and Steven found himself completely focused again for that single, searing moment of clarity. It began with a single, hilting thrust from Jim, as the orca forced his shaft all the way into the snow leopard's body as far as it could possibly go. Then Jim's fingers tightened, tugged at Steven's sides as he pulled the feline in closer. Steven barely had time to register the little tingle of pleasure that worked through him before he felt the surge of the cetacean's shaft. He almost imagined that he could feel the first spurt of Jim's seed work its way through that thick length of flesh. He didn't need to imagine the force of it, when it breached his tip and shot into Steven's body.

It ripped a howl from his muzzle as he lifted his back completely off the bed. He squeezed down hard, as contentment and sated need suffused through his body. Each throb and pulse of that malehood buried so deep in his backside magnified those feelings tenfold. That sense of rightness overpowered everything as his muscles kept the orca's length deep as it unloaded. Each pulse, each jerk and spurt was savoured, remembered and kept. Pleasure completely unknown to the snow leopard sang through his body. He never even realized that his own malehood had erupted and begun to paint fresh white lines across the orca's body. He didn't care. His whole focus was on the heat pumped into his rump, and how good it felt. How right it felt.

It didn't fade, not even when Jim's hips stopped their constant push up to his backside and came to rest against him. It sure didn't fade when the orca leaned over him and began to lick slowly over Steven's lips. It wasn't set to fade anytime soon after that either, as he grinned up at the still-panting male above him. "Tell me that was as good for you," he managed to say, after he worked moisture into his muzzle. He didn't even know how raw he'd stripped his throat with his cries. There was no chance the whole motel hadn't heard it.

"Pretty fuckin' good, yeah," came the reply from one side of the snow leopard's face, and Steven smiled as he heard the grin on Jim's lips. "God damn, Steven. You sure you've never done that before? Fucking hell, I needed that. Your wife... Janette? She doesn't know what she's missing!"

Steven just rolled his shoulders in a little shrug as he closed his eyes. He wriggled his hips as he pressed back lightly against Jim, and chuckled softly as he felt the shift of that still-hard length of orca flesh against his cum-soaked insides. "Well, that's just gonna be her loss," he replied, as the cetacean groaned softly at his motions. "Now c'mon... get your rest. We've got the rest of the night ahead of us, and you're giving me at least one more good go before I have to get out of this motel and back to her!"

A shadow sat with folded arms, oddly satisfied, just outside that very same motel. The only hint that the shadow was even there was a little blink of red light that came from within one russet-furred ear, carefully hooked there by an irritating little piece of plastic that kept it in place. A cord connected it to the little receiver unit in the shadow's paw. It was one part of set; a pair, more precisely. The other was the pocket of a pair of discarded pants, worn by a certain orca that the shadow had hired just for the occasion.

Janette smiled grimly as she hit the stop button on the recorder. The whole thing had been taped; the audio was clear, and more than damning enough for a divorce lawyer to have a field day with. Her husband wanted to fool around with other guys, play rough? That was fine by her.

The vixen knew how to play with the best of them.

[Listen to The Call by the Backstreet Boys with this Grooveshark link!](%5C)

The Call lyrics

"Hello?"

"Hi, it's me; what's up, baby? I'm sorry, listen, I'm gonna be late tonight so don't stay up and wait for me, okay?"

"Where are you?"

"Wait, wait, say that again?"

"Hello?"

"You're really dropping out; I think my battery must be low. Listen, if you can hear me we're going to a place nearby, alright? Gotta go."

Let me tell you the story 'bout the call that changed my destiny,

Me and my boys went out, just to end up in misery.

Was about to go home when there she was standing in front of me,

Said "Hi, I got a little place nearby,

Wanna go?"

I should have said "No,

Someone's waiting for me,"

But I called my girl up and said,

Listen baby, I'm sorry,

Just wanna tell you don't worry.

I will be late; don't stay up and wait for me.

I'll say again, you're dropping out; my battery is low.

Just so you know, we're goin' to a place nearby,

Gotta go.

Now two years gone, nothing's been won,

I can't take it back; what's done is done.

One of her friends found out,

That she wasn't my only one.

And it eats me from inside, that she's not by my side,

Just because I made that call and lied.

Listen baby, I'm sorry,

Just wanna tell you don't worry.

I will be late; don't stay up and wait for me.

I'll say again, you're dropping out; my battery is low.

Just so you know, we're goin' to a place nearby,

Gotta go.

Let me tell you the story 'bout the call that changed my destiny,

Me and my boys went out, just to end up in misery.

Was about to go home when there she was standing in front of me,

I said "Hi, I got a little place nearby,"

Gotta go.

Listen baby I'm sorry,

Just wanna tell you don't worry.

I will be late; don't stay up and wait for me.

I'll say again, you're dropping out; my battery is low.

Just so you know, we're goin' to a place nearby,

Gotta go.

Listen baby I'm sorry,

Just wanna tell you don't worry.

I will be late; don't stay up and wait for me.

I'll say again, you're dropping out; my battery is low.

Just so you know, we're goin' to a place nearby,

Gotta go.