For A Good Time, Call...

by Gadziala, Jessica

  “It's never too late to tell her you saw what she did, Fee.”

  “But it is,” I said. “The day I ran away, just hours after she knew I was gone, she knew I would never be in his grasps again, she took my father's hunting knife, the same one that cut me up, went out into the woods and killed herself.”

  “Jesus,” Hunter hissed. “Fee... I'm so sorry.”

  I shook my head. “No. Don't be. I realized after I heard about it... two years later... that that was all she had wanted to do for twenty years. Twenty years she spent being belittled and beaten and forced into humiliating sex with my father. She had thought about death every day. But she endured it. For me. Because she needed to protect me. She needed to prepare me for the day when I would escape. Like she never could. And once I did, she got to have her own sort of escape too.”

  Hunter scooted closer, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close. “So what happened after you ran?”

  “I ran here. Even living like I lived, shut off from the world, I had heard about the city. My father ranted and raved about the sinners here. About it being the new Sodom and Gomorrah. People fornicated on the streets. Men sodomized each other. Women lifted their skirts to good, religious men who crossed their paths, pulling them into their debauchery...”

  “Sounds like a fun place to be,” Hunter said against my shoulder.

  “Exactly,” I said, smiling. “I figured if there was one place he wouldn't go to find me, it would be a place damned to be consumed with fire and brimstone. So I made my way here, taking a buss for the first time, a train for the first time. Then I stepped out of the station onto the streets and I knew I was home.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “Well, that's the thing,” I said, shaking my head. “I wasn't exactly prepared. It had been such a rash decision and I knew so little about money and how to take care of myself...”

  “You were on the streets,” Hunter supplied, moving away to look at me.

  “Yeah.”

  “For how long?”

  “About two years. It wasn't as bad as it sounds. I mean it was bad. I was so hungry and cold and scared... all the time. But I was on my own. No one was going to beat me for not being godly enough. No one was going to carve me up like a turkey. And no one told me I couldn't do things. Like read. Learn. I went to the library and I read... everything. I ate what people felt bad enough to feed me. I put up my walls and I tried to figure out a way out of it.” I thought about the makeshift showers in the fast food bathrooms. The cleaning myself up so I could go for interviews. The jobs I could never keep for very long. But they offered me some money. A way to buy a phone. To buy rental time on a computer cafe. A way to start my business.

  “I did my first phone sex calls while living in a box between a office supply store and a pharmacy. I had been so green...”

  “Were you still a virgin?” he asked.

  “No,” I said. But, oh, I wished I was. “But I might as well have been. I was able to get this place just a couple weeks after.”

  Hunter gave me a small smile. “You've made a really good life for yourself here, Fee.”

  I thought of all the designer clothes in my closet, the money I spent like water, the freedom I had to go out all night and sleep all day. He was right. It might not have been a wild, grand life and it might have been fraught with all my demons... but it was good. It was mine.

  He was silent for a moment. “I think your mom would have been happy with this,” he said, smirking a little. “Aside from you just getting away from your father. I think what you've done would have made her laugh. What a slap in the face to everything your father tried to beat into you to become a phone sex operator. Who drinks a lot. And tattoos her body. And has sex with the trouble that lives next door.”

  “You're not trouble,” I said, a flash of him beating that man flashing into my head before I pushed it away.

  “You don't know me that well, Fee,” he said, sounding almost sad. “Trust me... I'm trouble.”

  “Well,” I said, reaching out and wrapping my arms around his neck. “maybe I like trouble.”

  “Oh yeah?” he asked, his eyebrow raised.

  “Yeah.”

  “How much?” he asked, smirking.

  I smiled, sitting up, pushing him onto his back and putting my legs on either side of him. His hands moved to my hips, sinking into the hollows and wrenching a moan from me. I leaned down, turning my head to the side and trailing my lips across his neck like he had done for me, wanting to see if it felt the same to him as if did to me. He exhaled roughly, bolstering my self-confidence and I slowly moved downward. Between his ribs, over his stomach. Lower.

  I had been faking oral sex long enough to know what I was supposed to do. I knew my instructions. Tease the head. Then take the shaft into my mouth. Deep. Deeper than was comfortable. They liked to hear you gag slightly on it. That turned them on. Then start moving your mouth from the base upward in a twisting motion. You could intermittently go up and down, but the twisting was what got them really going.

  I knew what to do. But I had never done it.

  Uncertainty was like a churning inside. Like a hand grabbed your insides and twisted. I paused for the barest of seconds before my hand reached out to grab the base and hold it as my tongue snaked out to swirl circles across the sensitive head. I heard his breath hiss out and his hands slam down on the bed next to his body. Encouraged, I slid my mouth around him, slowly moving downward, tilting my head slightly upward to look at his face.

  “Oh fuck,” he said, reaching down to put a hand on the back of my head. Not pulling or pushing, just resting there as I took more and more of him into my mouth. “Yeah, baby,” he said, sounding pained. “take it all.” I hit the base with an involuntary clenching feeling in my throat, tight and uncomfortable, but not sick. Not like I had expected. I closed my lips down harder, turning slightly to the left, then right as I slowly moved back upward. I got to the head, licking my tongue once over the tip, tasting him there, before moving quickly back down again.

  In that moment, I didn't understand the complaints I had heard from endless callers. About how their wives didn't give head. Or only gave it on special occasions because they didn't like it. How could you not like it? How could you not feel powerful? How could you not get off knowing how good you were making them feel? How at your mercy their pleasure was?

  It was the hottest thing I had ever experienced, watching Hunter's face contort, feeling his body tense under me, hearing his breathing become ragged. I couldn't wait for him to come. I wanted to hear him, to feel him lose control. I wanted to taste him, to take him in.

  But then his hand moved into my hair, grabbing it and pulling me upward. His cock slipped out of my mouth and I made a whimpering sound. Hunter chuckled. “Don't worry baby,” he said, moving to sit up, still holding my hair, watching as I licked him off my lips. “one day I am going to love coming in that pretty mouth. Down that throat. But right now,” he said, letting me go and moving toward the end of the bed. “I want to fuck you until you cant walk right for a week.”

  It sounded like a threat. Like a promise. I felt my desire like a stabbing inside, like a white-hot need.

  He moved to the nightstand, slipping another condom on before turning back to me. He reached out, grabbing my hips and pulling. My arms flew out to brace my fall as I landed face-first against the mattress. He pulled backward until I felt myself hanging off the edge of the bed. His hand reached out, slapping my ass hard once. “I've been thinking about this ass since that first day on the balcony. With those pink panties that only covered half of it. I wanted to jump over to your balcony, rip them off, and fuck you from behind right there where anyone who looked up could see us.”

  He slapped me again, making me jump, groan a little. “You like that, baby?” he asked, slapping me again without waiting for an answer. “Does that get your pussy wet?” he asked, his hand pushing between my thighs and, findin
g wetness there, he plunged his finger inside me. “Yeah it does,” he growled, thrusting his finger quickly inside me before pulling out. His hands grabbed my hips, pulling them off the mattress, making me stand on my shaky legs.

  His hands moved between my thighs, pulling them slightly apart. Then his cock was pressing against me, holding there still, making the tension build unbearably. Then, with one quick thrust, he was buried inside me. Impossibly deep. Deeper than he had been before. I felt him everywhere. I clenched around him, needing the fullness, needing him deep, and rocked back against him.

  “You like it deep, baby?” he asked, pulling my hips back and upward slightly, making me yelp. Because it hurt, a sharp, pinching feeling. It hurt, but it felt so good at the same time.

  “Yeah,” I groaned, wiggling against it.

  “Make yourself come,” he instructed, holding still inside me.

  I didn't need any further encouragement. I was too far gone to feel shame or self-consciousness. I pulled forward and shoved back, I moved my hips side to side, I swirled them in circles. I could feel the tension build, the tightening that was threatening to explode. I was so close and he still hadn't moved at all. “Am I going to make you come too?” I asked, hearing his ragged breathing.

  His hands bit painfully into my hips. “Not until you make yourself come,” he said, barely words at all, more like a growl.

  Empowered, I moved faster, slamming back into him, pushing in fast, frantic circles. I felt my orgasm slam into me, making my legs give out and Hunter grabbed my hips and held them up as I clenched around his hardness over and over, an endless wave of sensation.

  As soon as I stopped moaning, I felt him pull out of me and slam forward. Hard. So fucking hard my entire body jerked forward. My feet went back on the floor, bracing, trying to not go flying with each powerful thrusts. I held still, my body rigid as his cock thrust into me in a slow, but forceful rhythm. Fast, hard in. Pause. Quickly out. Pause. Harder, faster in. I was a puddle of need under him, a screaming, panting mess. His hand let go of one of my hips, spanking my ass before each thrust and I arched up into it, enjoying the sting more than I could have ever known. Needing it. Letting it push me forward toward the orgasm that threatened to make me dumb.

  Then the spanking stopped and he picked me up off my feet, his thrusts becoming faster, more demanding. I couldn't move. I couldn't rock against him. I couldn't help us each reach the impending oblivion. I was completely at his mercy as he slammed into me over and over, making my insides tighten around him, become a vise-like grip that he groaned at, pulling less far out, staying deep and plunging further in.

  “Oh my god,” I cried, almost fearful as I teetered in the nothingness for a second before he pushed forward, hitting the front wall and making me completely lose what little control I had. I screamed his name. Loud enough for heaven and hell to hear me as I came around him, pulling him, clenching him.

  He groaned, slamming forward once more, burying deep. “Fuck,” he growled out. “Oh, fuck... Fee,” he yelled out as he came deep inside me.

  My feet fell hard onto the floor as he dropped them, pushing forward, his chest landing on my back. Spent. He was spent. I struggled for breath through my own exertion and the weight on me. My heart was beating so fast in my chest it almost scared me. Above me, his breath was fast in my ear. His cock slowly slid out of me and, after a minute, he slowly lifted himself off of me.

  I felt his hand slap my ass once, not hard. Then he leaned down and I felt him kiss one of the cheeks. “Jesus fucking Christ, Fee,” he said, sounding disbelieving as he moved away from me.

  I couldn't move. Literally couldn't. I was a mess of flesh and aftershock, laying there, half on the bed, my ass at the edge of the mattress, my knees collapsed against the side of it. I felt half dead, but more alive than I ever had been before.

  Hunter came back, stroking the sides of my hips. “You okay there, Sixteen?” he asked, sounding amused. Sounding pleased with himself. He fucked me into oblivion and he knew it.

  I made a weird sound, a garbled mumbling nothing that he chuckled at. I felt the mattress give way to his weight as he moved in beside me. He reached out, grabbing my sides and pulling me up on the mattress fully. He reached down and pulled the tangled blankets up and over my suddenly very cold body, resting a hand at my lower back.

  A long time later, I turned my head to face him, a few inches to my side. “Well you made good on that threat,” I said, wincing as I curled up on my side facing him.

  His brows drew together. “What threat?”

  “I'm not going to walk right for a week,” I said and he laughed. Threw his head back and laughed at my pain that wasn't quite pain. It was soreness. A deep, deep ache that started to smite anytime I tried to move, so I decided to stay completely still.

  “Well that's fine,” he said, recovering, reaching for my hand and kissing it. “because you're not leaving this bed for a week.” At my look of strain he smiled. “there are so many ways I still need to fuck you. On all fours. Riding me. And,” he said, his voice sounding deep as his hand slid down my back to cup my ass, the cheeks red and sensitive. “I would like to bury deep inside this ass at some point too.”

  “Oh, really?” I asked, not opposed to the idea. I wanted him everywhere. I wanted him to claim every inch of me. Besides, I heard of the kind of orgasms you could get from anal sex. Especially if you pushed your fingers inside to stroke your g-spot while he worked your clit. A triple zone orgasm. I heard they could make you spring out of your body with their intensity. And I was really eager to give that a try.

  “Yes,” he said, pausing. “really,” he said the word harshly. Like he had never wanted something so much.

  “We'll have to see what we can do about that then,” I said, inching closer and snuggling up to his chest. “But first,” I said, yawning, wrapping my arm around his back. “Sleep.”

  Seventeen

  I didn't go home for three days. I took my calls in Hunter's bed, gloriously naked while he watched on. Sometimes he laid next to me, a sketchpad on his lap as she worked on the designs for my upcoming tattoos.

  No matter how much I thought about it, I couldn't get over it. How I went from my usual self: cold, brittle, don't-fuck-with-me-while-I-self-destruct Fiona to this one. This one who was okay with letting someone else see her completely bare. Completely vulnerable.

  I felt Hunter in every fiber of my being. And it wasn't scary. It wasn't awkward. It was right. It felt right.

  “I love it when you sniff my panties, baby,” I said and Hunter's head shot up, a brow lifting, a smile playing at his lips. I rolled my eyes at him and he went back to drawing. He didn't question me about work. He didn't think it was weird or perverted or a terrible way to make my ends meet. I would occasionally hear him snort or chuckle when I needed to say something especially unusual, but he kept his opinions to himself.

  “Yes, my pussy is so wet,” I said and I saw Hunter out of the corner of my eye, setting his pad down on the nightstand and moving toward me.

  He stood at the edge of the bed, staring down at me for a long time and I sent him a confused look. Then he grabbed my ankles, pulling me closer to him and spreading me open. A smile played at his lips as he kept his eyes on mine. His finger slipped between my folds and I had to bite down on my lip to keep from crying out.

  “Yeah,” I said into my phone, my voice sounding breathy. “I'm touching my clit,” I said and Hunter's hand shifted, running over the sensitive bud. “Yes. It feels so good,” I said, squirming against Hunter, reaching down to push him away. But he just slapped at my hands and continued his torture. “I think I'm ready for you,” I mused and Hunter's finger slipped deep inside me, making me arch up. He nodded, pulling his finger back out and I almost died of laughter, bringing a hand to my mouth and pressing down.

  On the other end of the phone, my caller was sounding breathy. “You want a dick deep inside right now, don't you?” he asked.


  I took a long, slow breath. “Mmmhmm. I want it so bad,” I murmured and watched as Hunter slipped a condom on. No way. No fucking way was he going to screw me while I was on the phone with a client. That was so, so unprofessional.

  I shook my head at him and he smiled and nodded. “How are you guys doing it?” he whispered and I blushed crimson.

  “How do you want me, baby?” I asked, not even having to fake the desire in my voice.

  “Yes, I love being on top,” I said, watching as Hunter shrugged and laid down on the bed, patting his lap. He was so adorably sexy sometimes. I climbed over to him, straddling his waist. His hand went to the base of his cock, holding it in place so I could lower down on it. “Oh,” I cried out, sliding slowly down on him. “Oh, that feels so good,” I groaned, feeling my hips drop down on his.

  Hunter's hands moved up my belly and grabbed my breasts, squeezing them in his big hands as I started moving back and forth. “It's so... deep,” I moaned, to Hunter. The phone was all but forgotten in my hand. Hunter's fingers swiped over my nipples and his hips drove up into mine, making me gasp and fall forward, one hand bracing against the bed the other still holding my cell phone.

  I lifted slightly off of him, holding still as he thrust upward into me over and over until I was crying out needy and frantic. I could heard my caller curse, make a garbled sound, thank me and then there was only silence.

  I dropped it to the mattress, my hands moving to Hunter's belly to brace myself as his thrusts became more wild and needy. Once I got the rhythm, I moved too. As he thrust upward, my hips slammed down. Making me take him as deep as my body would allow. “Hunter...” I groaned. His hand reached between our bodies, stroking my clit, trying to drive me up higher. Below me, he was tense. His jaw was rigid, a muscle ticking there as he fought for control.