A/N: Seattle, Washington 1991
Michonne Anthony, a 25-year-old student is burdened with student fees and the cost of living on the constant increase. So the beautiful barista takes a second job at Hot-Chat, a phone sex business.
At the age of 30, Rick Grimes runs his own company that is growing in revenue due to high demand, he is enjoying life as a wealthy bachelor. Loneliness only gets to him now and then which leads him to call a phone sex number.
Part I of V
Rated R
MICHONNE POV
Oh, baby, that's so good, tell me again, he breathed heavily into the phone. I could hear him groan and the faint sound of him jerking off in the background.
"Harder Josh, I need it harder!" My voice got higher on the last word and I stifled a giggle that wanted to escape me when my words elicited another loud groan from the man at the other end. I swallowed my amusement and sketched another line on my drawing.
My drawing was coming along nicely, and I grinned to myself as I made all the appropriate noises 'Josh' was expecting. I doubted his name was Josh at all, but if that's what he wanted to be called I did what I was told so I could get paid. Being a phone sex operator was fun at first, but it got old pretty quickly. I'd taken up drawing caricatures of what I imagined the voice over the phone would look like and it certainly helped the time pass at night. I finished up the portrait and I called it Eugene. I pictured a hefty man with, squinty eyes, cherub cheeks, and a funny outdated hairstyle. 'Josh' had begun his heavy breathing that sounded more like raspatory issues than passion.
"Uhhhh...Ohhhh" Josh's grunt of satisfaction rang through the headset and I mirrored his moans like I had an orgasm. He panted for a minute before thanking me and hanging up. I snickered and I clicked my headset off. I rolled my chair over to my computer and debated on whether I should take another call or just quit for the night. It was already close to 2 a.m., I tapped my fingers on the desk and sighed. "One more call and then it's bedtime," I said to myself and clicked the icon next to my profile.
I was surprised when the call immediately rang. It happens, but I am never quite prepared for it.
The good news is, that it always makes me sound breathless when I answer. "This is Michelle, what's your fantasy?" That opening line is so dumb, and super cheesy, but that's what the owner wants us to use, so be it. There was no response on the other end and I frowned. "Hello, are you still there? "I asked, keeping my voice cheerful. A brief cough sounded before a low voice spoke.
"Sorry, ah I...Didn't expect that opening."
His response surprised me, and I settled back in my chair. "What did you expect?"
"Something else... something, not so cliché."
A laugh burst out of me. I couldn't believe someone agreed with me, and out of all people, a caller.
"Let me guess, you've never called a number like this before," I said, making sure my voice was laced with pure skepticism.
A dark chuckle resonated through the line and goosebumps prickled my skin. My mouth dropped open at the reaction. My body has never responded to the dirtiest of words since the first week of calls. After a month, I was desensitized. Still, I held a small feeling of satisfaction that nothing but my voice and words can make men and sometimes women come.
"I haven't." He paused, then continued. "I'm not sure what made me call tonight either. Or why I am even confessing this to you."
I smiled, as I took in his voice. I quickly grabbed my pencil and began to sketch. "Well, I am here for whatever you need. If you want to get dirty, or just talk. It's up to you."
My pencil glided over the paper and I could tell this was not going to be a humorous caricature. There was something about his voice, his laugh, that would not allow me to draw anything cartoonish. This voice was different for some reason.
"Well, that leaves a lot of options open," He hummed and my nipples perked at the low vibration. "Can I ask you some questions?"
I paused, wondering how to answer that. I didn't want to give anything personal away. I bit my lip and tapped my pencil on the desk.
"Michelle I would not ask anything that will make you uncomfortable. You can also pass on a question if you don't want to answer."
I let out an audible sigh, relief filled me at his clarification.
"Well in that case, yes, I would be happy to answer your questions."
"Perfect...Michelle, tell me, what makes you wet?"
I dropped my pencil; I was not expecting that question...at all.
"Uh..." I was stuttering and I could hardly catch my breath. What the hell is wrong with me?
He chuckled again and continued. "Little Michelle tongue-tied...I'm just wondering what you like. If you want me to pound your sexy body from behind, or if you like your thighs around my head, so I can eat you for dessert, " Everything he says flows as smooth as a meadow river and my head becomes as light as it would from just the aroma of such a place. Of course, it helps that his voice is deep. A small moan escaped me, shocking the hell out of me again. I realized I was wet. Very wet. My clit was throbbing with desire and this man, this total stranger was to blame."...Are you getting turned on by my questions?"
I cleared my throat and was finally gaining some composure. I had a strong desire to turn him on just like he was doing to me. And I know just how to do it. Besides, I'm a professional here. I didn't even flinch when the guy last week asked to listen to me go to my bathroom and take a piss.
"I'm so wet right now, dripping wet. I'd like to climb on top of your big hard cock and ride you until you erupt like a volcano."
I heard him draw in a sharp breath and I grinned. He was surprised by my dirty response.
Although I don't know why; He'd called a sex line for crying out this is what we do.
"So, you are a naughty girl! Will you tell me what you look like?"
I hesitated, not wanting to tell him too much. "You can pick one thing."
He barely took a second to choose, "How tall or you?"
He surprised me again, I was sure he was going to ask about my breast, or if I shaved my pussy. That's what most guys ask.
"I'm 5'7, without heels, but I love heel so that makes me 5'9."
"Perfect, I bet your petite, with a gorgeous frame an addictive smile, and legs that won't quit."
His words made me blush. Oh my, I'm blushing. My cheeks are burning the fuck up!
"Thank you," I mumbled.
"You are very welcome Michelle, well, that's all the time I have tonight, but I will certainly call you again."
"Why?" I blurted out and instantly felt worried. I wondered why he suddenly wanted to leave.
"Why? Because you intrigue me...you're funny, obviously intelligent and your voice makes me hard as fuck, why wouldn't I call back."
My mouth dropped open, but not a motherfucking word came out. I was speechless. A communications major, straight A's mind you.
"Until next time Michelle."
"Wait!" I yelped, my heart was pounding, hoping he had not already hung up.
"Yes?" He said calmly.
"I was just wondering...what your name is...or what I should call you."
"Rick."
"Rick," I smiled, "Alright...Goodnight, Rick."
"Goodnight naughty, Michelle."
My body heated up at his words and I smiled even more. I took off my headset and shut my computer down. I took a look at my sketch, taking in what I had managed to draw. Dark hair, Stunning eyes, a strong jaw, a straight nose, and teasing lips. A part of me regretted that I was too caught up in words to complete the drawing. I shut off my lamp and climbed into bed, wondering when I'd talk to that voice who calls himself Rick again.