Talk Sexy 1

by Nichelle Gregory

  “I don’t like to repeat myself.”

  “I-I’m fine. Hello, Michael.”

  Peyton forced herself to breathe normally, determined to come across as in control. She needed to disassociate herself from what had happened the last time they had talked. If she concentrated on the fact that this was all just acting and play her part, she’d be just fine.

  “Hello, Pepper. Pepper…hmmm. That’s not your real name is it?”

  “W-what?”

  Michael laughed and Peyton was dismayed to feel her body temperature kick up another degree with each deep chuckle.

  “What is your real name?”

  Seconds ticked by as Peyton wavered between telling or simply giving him another fake name.

  “Okay. Give me your first name in three seconds or I hang up.”

  “Hey—”

  “One.”

  “Is Michael your real name?”

  “Two.”

  Panic flared—she didn’t want him to hang up…couldn’t bear it when she’d been waiting all week to hear his voice.

  “Peyton.”

  “Thank you, Peyton.”

  “You’re welcome, Michael.” Peyton exhaled silently. “Is that your name?”

  “Yes, it is. I must say, I’ve been waiting to hear your sweet voice in my ear all week long.”

  “Really?”

  She couldn’t stop the huge grin that graced her lips or the increasing slickness between her thighs.

  “Really. Did you think about me?”

  He seemed to have a knack for asking her questions that made her pulse react. Sharp zings of excitement sent tingles of awareness zipping along her body.

  “I—I did.”

  Michael laughed. “Is it that hard to admit?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Good. How was your week, Peyton?”

  “Busy. I’m glad it’s Friday. How about yours?”

  “The same. Why aren’t you out painting the town?”

  Peyton smiled. “I prefer taking it easy on Friday nights. I paint the town on Saturdays.”

  “Ahhh…”

  “What about you? It’s still early enough. No big Friday night plans?”

  “Only to hear those little delicious moans you make when you come.”

  She couldn’t respond, not when it felt like she couldn’t breathe. Every inch of Peyton hummed with arousal. She moved her hand over her pussy, dipped a finger between her wet lips and inhaled sharply upon making contact with her engorged clit.

  “Do you want to come for me again, Peyton?”

  “You are supposed to come for me. That’s what my callers do.”

  Husky masculine laughter swept a wave of heat over her. “But I’m not like your other callers. Am I?”

  “No.”

  “No, that’s right. The other callers don’t ask about your week, do they?”

  “No,” Peyton said, pushing a finger deep inside her pussy and biting back a small whimper.

  “Other callers don’t make you soaking wet either, isn’t that true?”

  “Y—yes.”

  “Why, I bet your soaking wet already, aren’t you?”

  Peyton pulled her finger from her pussy to tease her clit again, shuddering with need.

  “Aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Say, ‘I’m soaking wet, Michael’.”

  “I’m soaking wet, Michael.”

  “Let me hear my pussy.”

  Peyton yanked the headset from her head, brought the mic up to her pussy then played in the wetness. She was breathless when she put the headset back in place.

  “Michael?”

  “I’m here. Goddamn, that pussy is wet. You need to be fucked hard, don’t you?”

  His choice of words and the way he had used them had to be as effective as any other aphrodisiac on the market.

  “I do need that.”

  “Does your lover know, Peyton?”

  Peyton froze.

  “Your silence speaks volumes, but if I ask you something I expect you to respond. Got it?”

  “Fine.” She removed her hand from between her thighs.

  Who did he think he was?

  “Good and watch your tone. He doesn’t give you what you need, does he?”

  His arrogance should’ve turned her off, but if anything it heightened her arousal.

  Peyton sighed. “He’s a good man.”

  “That’s not what I asked. Answer the question.”

  “He doesn’t know exactly what I need.”

  “Why not?”

  Peyton rubbed her eyes. “I don’t know.”

  She shifted on the bed, uneasy with the current line of conversation.

  “Bullshit.”

  “I don’t,” Peyton said with a frown.

  “Yes, you do. Don’t think he could handle those naughty kinky secrets you’ve got bottled up inside?”

  “Everybody’s got secrets.”

  Michael chuckled. “True. Some secrets should never be told and others are meant to be discovered.”

  Peyton didn’t have a response. Her mind was swirling with thoughts of Jace and Michael. Seconds ticked by as she stared up at the ceiling. She didn’t understand the all-consuming undercurrent of desire for a man she’d never even seen.

  “I want to know all your secrets, Peyton.”

  She issued some kind of sound, but it couldn’t be classified as anything other than unintelligible noise.

  “I want you to tell me every single one of your naughty kinky secrets.”

  “Michael—”

  “Yes, I want you to always start off telling me that way.”

  “What?”

  She was actually having trouble hearing his ludicrous requests over the thudding echo of her heart.

  “You’ll always start off by saying, ‘Michael, I want to tell you a naughty, kinky secret’.”

  Peyton’s eyes widened. He excited the hell out of her. The idea of doing as he asked made her ridiculously horny.

  “I don’t know if I can.”

  “You can and you will. Admit it, Peyton, you want to.”

  “Oh, God…”

  Her stomach was twisting in delicious knots of excitement and trepidation.

  Michael was crazy.

  Crazy hot.

  He made her hot and crazy.

  “Admit it.”

  Peyton ran her hand over her stomach. “I want to.”

  She could almost hear him smile with satisfaction, and knowing he was pleased made her smile in return.

  “I know you do. You also want to come for me, don’t you?”

  Peyton sighed.

  “Did you think I’d forgotten that unanswered question?” Amusement colored his rich tone.

  “I did and I do.”

  “You do what?”

  Peyton plucked a nipple through her silky chemise. “I do want to come for you.”

  “Of course you do. You need to come for me like the good little submissive slut I know you are and always want to be. Part those thighs and work that pussy for me.”

  Peyton shifted on her bed and reached for her vibrator, cursing softly when she accidently turned the toy on.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I need my toy.”

  “No, you don’t. Leave it and do what I told you to do.”

  “I’ll never co—”

  “Shut up and do what you’re told.”

  He had a way of slowing the timing of his words for emphasis. The effect on Peyton was immediate. Blood rushed to her face and her nipples hardened to perfect points as she parted her thighs.

  “I’m going to play with my pussy my way and you are going to give me what I want. Rub your palm over the top of that juicy mound. Slow circles over those wet lips.”

  Peyton obeyed, smoothing her palm around and around the sensitive flesh.

  “Languid circles with your eyes closed. Tell me what you need.”

  With her eyes now closed, P
eyton slowed her hand and moaned. “I need to come.”

  “And you will. Right now, I want you spank that pussy.”

  Chapter Three

  Peyton gasped. “Spank it?” She unconsciously cupped her mound.

  “Yes. Three times. With that wet palm caressing it now. Do it.”

  “This is crazy.”

  “I’m waiting, Peyton. Be sure to count off each swat.”

  Peyton drew in a tight breath, lifted her hand then spanked her pussy. One smack sent sharp tingles vibrating through her clit. Her pussy seemed to throb and she hadn’t even dealt herself that hard of a blow.

  “What did I tell you to do?”

  Peyton wet her lips, focusing back on Michael’s voice and not the curious reverberations teasing her senses.

  “You told me to count off each swat.”

  “That’s correct. So, that first one didn’t count. Start over and make sure you give me a solid smack. That last one sounded a little weak.”

  Annoyed and aroused beyond all sensible reasoning, Peyton repeated the requested action. The sensitive flesh seemed to hum and heat from her efforts.

  “One.” Peyton quickly did it again. “Two.”

  “Make this last one a good one.”

  “Three.”

  She let out a small groan. Her entire body was in tune with her pussy, pulsing with electric, erotic energy.

  “Now, play with your clit, slide those fingers into that sweet, tight, warm sheath and tell me a naughty, kinky secret.”

  She was so unbelievably wet. It was unreal how connected she felt to a man she’d never met.

  “Tell me, Peyton.”

  “Michael…”

  “Yes?”

  She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t bare her soul to a perfect stranger.

  Could she?

  “Michael, I—I…”

  “You can tell me. Tell me anything you want, Peyton. No judgment here. You and I are kindred spirits. I know you can feel that too.”

  Inexplicably, she did.

  She breathed in deep then did it again, seemingly not able to get enough oxygen into her hungry lungs. Her body was arcing toward something she’d never experienced before. She was close, closer than she’d ever been to coming without aid of anything.

  “Michael, I want to tell you”—her breath hitched when a wave of unexpected pleasure swirled tighter than before—“a naughty, kinky secret.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I want…” Her voice trailed off as she pressed her two fingers in as deep as she could. She found her sweet spot and gasped. “I want to be spanked.”

  Michael’s deep chuckle in her ear scattered goosebumps along her skin.

  “Of course you do. All submissive little sluts need their spankings. You need me to yank your skirt up and rub my hand over that juicy ass of yours. Gently at first, learning every curve of that delicious derriere. Then when you least expect me to, I’d spank each cheek. First the left and then the right. I’d spank and finger fuck you until you were reduced to tears and begging.”

  Peyton moaned with longing. The longing to come and experience what he was erotically describing to her.

  “You’d beg for me to stop. Maybe I would or maybe I’d give you a little more. I’d always know when you’d need more, Peyton. Eventually, I’d stop and then you’d beg for me to fuck you. You’d plead for me to fill you with my hard cock.”

  “Oh, God,” Peyton breathed.

  “No, but in that moment, for you? Yes, I’d be your god. Your every quiver would be mine as it is now. I want you to come for me. Just let go and give me what I want.”

  “I want to…”

  A sheen of sweat covered her skin and she shivered, but not because of the warmth enveloping her. Michael’s words were creating an inferno inside her that equaled the warmth of the sun on her skin. Peyton squeezed her eyelids tightly together, dragging in shallower breaths as her pleasure started to peak.

  “I know you do. You’re so close. I can hear it in your breathing, Peyton. Do it. Come for me.”

  She wasn’t able to respond anymore. All her energy was consumed by the power of her orgasm. Peyton couldn’t continue teasing her pussy, too distracted by the delicious tremors resonating through every cell of her being. Her strangled cries of bliss echoed in the bedroom, almost drowning out Michael’s coaxing words to give him more. Peyton gave him all she had, shaking uncontrollably until she came down from her orgasmic high and eventually stilled on the bed.

  “Good girl.”

  Peyton shivered between her ragged breaths as Michael’s deep voice teased her like a lover’s caress on her skin. Her wet thighs trembled as she closed them. She moaned softly when the movement sent more climatic aftershocks whispering along her sensitized nerve endings.

  “I—I can’t believe that just happened,” she finally said with an incredulous laugh.

  “I told you it would.”

  Peyton sighed. “You did, but I still didn’t think I’d be able to come for you.”

  “I know you understand how powerful the mind is when it comes to sex. You wanted to come for me, Peyton. You needed to prove to yourself it was possible even though you were afraid you wouldn’t be able to. When I demanded you do it, I left you no out. I wasn’t going to accept your excuses. Your mind and finally your body accepted and you had no other choice but to come.”

  “Your voice…your words”—Peyton shook her head against the pillow—“do something to me.”

  “I’m glad, because your voice and what you say has a most definite effect on me too.”

  Peyton imagined the sight of him hard for her and smiled. “Mmmm…tell me more.”

  “I’d love to, but I have some business I must take care of right now.”

  “Oh,” Peyton said dismayed by how disappointed she was to hear he had to go.

  “Don’t pout. I’ll call again soon.”

  “All right.”

  She marveled at the overwhelming need to almost beg him to stay on the line and talk longer.

  “Peyton?”

  “Yes?”

  “Have a paddle or something to smack that juicy ass for me by the next time I call.”

  Peyton snorted. “You can’t be serious?”

  “Oh, I am very serious. Do not disappoint me, Peyton. Until then, goodbye, my submissive little slut.”

  He hung up before she could respond and Peyton wanted to scream in frustration. She looked at her clock to see an hour and half had gone by. It felt like twenty minutes. With a small sigh, she got out of bed and padded into the bathroom. She turned on the light then the faucet to wash her hands while staring at her reflection in the mirror.

  “What are you doing, Peyton?”

  Her reflection had no answers and neither did she. She wished she could tell someone about her need to come for a perfect stranger on the phone, but somehow she didn’t think Pilar, her sister, would understand. She’d have something smart to say for sure and Tamara, well, she’d probably listen without judgment, but Peyton didn’t want her all up in her business.

  “Nobody needs to know about this craziness,” Peyton murmured to herself as she flicked off the light and got back into bed.

  She put on the news, but the talking heads could have been discussing an alien invasion and she wouldn’t have heard a word. Her mind was turning over the very real sensual invasion Michael had rained down on her. She wanted to know more about him. They’d talked twice now and she knew next to nothing about Michael. Some of her callers strictly called to get off. She was simply the voice they used to help facilitate the process, but many of her clients wanted her to see them as more than some horny jack off. It was amazing how many intimate details could be shared in the span of fifteen minutes.

  Michael knew more about her than she did of him and that had never happened before. She had never climaxed on the phone either, and without her toy… Peyton was still in shock that she’d done it. She would never forget the intensity of the
moment or her orgasm.

  The phone rang and Peyton looked at the caller ID. It was a business call. Her heart leaped at the chance it might be Michael again, even though she was quite certain it wasn’t. She answered, pushing back her disappointment upon discovering she was right.

  At least this was one of her quickie clients.

  Peyton began saying the exact words she knew her caller wanted to hear. A few minutes and one very satisfied customer later, she hung up. It wasn’t her best phone actress performance, but it had hardly mattered.

  Peyton picked up her vibrating phone off her nightstand to read a text from Jace inviting her to breakfast. She sighed, a twinge of guilt assailing her as she responded, agreeing to meet him at their usual spot. In some ways, her conversations with Michael had reached a level she’d never hit with Jace. She wasn’t even sure she could talk to Jace about the things she’d shared with Michael and that bothered her. He was her boyfriend. He should know more about what she wanted sexually.

  Resolute in her determination to be more open with Jace, Peyton decided she’d approach him about spicing things up in the bedroom. Maybe that was why she felt the way she did about their relationship. If they were ever going to get to that next level she had to trust he’d at least try to understand all of who she was and what she needed.

  * * * *

  Peyton weaved through the crowded restaurant the next morning, smiling when she made eye contact with Jace already seated at their table.

  “Hey, babe,” Jace said, getting up to kiss her. He pulled out her chair. “You look lovely as usual.”

  She grinned at him as he took his seat. “Thank you. Were you waiting long?”

  “No. I just got here.”

  Peyton put her sunglasses in her case then back into her purse. “I swear the cabbie hit every red light getting over here. How was your workout?”

  “Good”—Jace patted his six pack—“now, I can tear into these Belgium waffles guilt-free. I’m glad I called ahead for reservations.”

  Peyton glanced around. “Me, too. This place is packed, but it always is on Saturday mornings. So, you already know what you want to order?”

  Jace nodded. “Why deviate from perfection?”

  Peyton grinned as their server approached to take their drink orders. Jace ordered two mimosas before returning his attention to her.