AN: Have you ever read a book and could immediately tell the insecurities of the author? Nothing wrong with that because of course some of the author will always be in their characters but .... writing about an overly independent woman that runs every time a mean girl says something is ass backward to me. I'm not judging but I'm judging. No way in hell would an independent woman have to keep reminding herself that she's an equal to her lover either. On top of that- she keeps denying herself pleasure over petty shit.
Ugh. Needless to say- I had to stop. Sorry if my opinion offends. Not really because I'm simply speaking my truth.
I finally connected with Ross on Monday evening. Apparently him and the bartender chick- Meghan's her real name- stayed in his apartment to repay her for driving us from the club. He doesn't even sound mad that I sold him off like a bargaining chip. In fact, Ross seems downright pleased. It had to be the mind numbing sex that's clouding his mind. Damn, is that envy I feel?
As Ross is telling me to try some amazing positions hes looked up online from the Kama Sutra, I realize that I can't take a second more of his happy babbling.
"Ross, I need to go." I lie like I'm busy. Right now I'm sitting on my couch eating ice cream but he doesn't need to know that.
"Oh! Okay. I think I hear her coming back anyway. I have to make her think that I've been hand cuffed to the bed this entire time."
"T.M.I." Before I hang up I hear his laughter mocking me.
I contemplate my love life, or lack of love from my life. Again. Ross's escapades never bothered me before, so why now?
Maybe it's because I've found someone who I can do all of that stuff with but I'm not sure if he's for it like I am. Maybe to him I'm just a easy hire weekend companion who's great with the last minute plans.
I'm brought out of inner reflection by my phone. I don't know the number so I answer with my generic happy voice.
"This is Phoebe speaking."
"What are you wearing?" A deep voice moans.
"Who the hell-look buddy you have the wrong number and if you call me again I'll be going to the police."
The voice on the other end laughs. "Phoebe, you never cease to make me laugh." I knew who the creeper man was immediately.
"Mr. M? How'd you get my number? And why the hell did you answer like that, you couldn't have sounded more like a complete creep."
He laughs again for a solid minute. Apparently I'm a comedian, my parents will be so proud.
"You obviously don't have phone sex. I got your number from a manager at the hotel." He finally calms down enough to answer me.
"WHAT!? Isn't that illegal? And no, I don't have phone sex. Why do that when actual sex is the preferred method?"
"He didn't intentionally mean to give me your number, I was in his office and I happened by the employee call list." Knowing Mr. M, I don't actually think he "happened by" a damned thing.
Of course he also ignored my statement but then again, the man ignores over half of the things I say. "What can i do for you Marceles?"
"Mmmm I like it when you say my name." His voice gets deeper and I feel incredibly warm. "What are you wearing Phoebe?" He asks, his voice is hypnotic so I'm compelled to answer.
"My giraffe suit." I answer breathlessly.
'Dammit Phoebe! That's not sexy WHAT. SO. EVER.' Any chance I had for salvaging the mood was lost when Mr. M howls through the phone.
"What-" He laughs, "the hell-" more laughter, "type of response is that? You should've lied or better yet- you should have told me to start instead."
I'm now blushing and thanking the high heavens that he's not here with me. I grab onto my spark of anger and let it respond for me.
"How was I supposed to know we were going to be doing this? I'm on my couch eating ice cream! If I had known I would've stripped out of my clothes, shirt and bra first because my breasts HATE being confined. Every night I have to rub my shoulders because of my bra straps, then knead my way down to the tops of my breasts to my nipples. It's all about constant pressure otherwise I don't get any relief. I also have to knead the bottom of my breasts too! I grip them with both hands and not-so-gently squeeze them to get some type of relief. I hate tight pants but they do serve a purpose. After I take them off though, there's no greater feeling.
Anyway, I would've taken a shower,"
I hear Mr. M breathing heavily on the other end but I pay no real attention to it. I'm annoyed at my lack of preparation and his sudden call.
"of course I would've scrubbed my vanilla scented body wash all over my skin. Sometimes I use my hands but they don't make nearly enough bubbles for my satisfaction. I may have washed my hair too, I just bought this almond scented shampoo that I'm kind of excited to try out. I definitely would've lathered my legs up with shaving gel and went to town on them because they need it, regardless of you being on the phone or not- shaved legs make me feel sexy in a way. After the shower I would rub oil all on my skin just so I could tease you with thoughts of being massaged and how I could rub you down with my oil-hell I might've even suggested that I rub my oily body up and down yours. To get better coverage of course."
He moans into the phone and I smirk. I'm no longer feeling angry but I'm in story mode so I can't stop.
"Once I was ready I would've squeezed my ass into my black lace thong that I got myself for Christmas along with its matching bra. I could've easily touched myself to your words because the material is super thin. But I didn't know that we were going to be doing this so I did none of those things." As I end my story I become horrified with myself.
'Why did I just describe my process to this man?'
He's still breathing heavily. "You should go into more detail about the matching black lace set."
I realize that I unintentionally turned him on! "You didn't listen to a word I said other than that!?"
"No I heard every word including you rubbing your oiled down body on top of mine, how you knead your breasts for relief, and now I know that you use a vanilla scented body wash that explains why you always smell so sweet." His breathing is back to normal but his voice is still making my insides quiver.
"Uhh.... that's not exactly where I was heading with all that but okay." I'm blushing-again and smiling.
"It's odd. I'm not sure that if you went off on a tangent talking about your giraffe suit that it'd have the same effect." Mr. M sounds contemplative.
"What effect?"
"Oh, you know, the effect of my wanting you to scream my name as I fuck you senseless. I think that it would be a great way to use those vocals of yours, hell you might even reach a higher pitch."
My mouth is dry and all I can squeak out is a simple, "mmhmm."
"Anyway, plan's changed, I'm going to pick you up Wednesday evening and we should arrive by Wednesday night. Thursday morning we will go buy you a dress."
"Okay." I swallow hard because now the idea of being in a confined space with the man is driving me insane.
"Goodnight Phoebe." He hangs up before I can reply.
Then an idea pops into my head. Before I overthink things, I send the text.
You never did tell me what you're wearing ;)
Immediately my phone buzzes with a reply. I open the message stream and stare in shock.
Right before me is a naked picture of Mr. M taken in selfie form- and he's fully naked. His penis is erect just asking for me to sit on top of it. I think I will take that shower, a very cold one.
AN: Short chapter, I know. More coming soon- like within a day or so. We've reached 500 reads!!!! I'm over the moon and orbiting the sun. Oh! And you can take a selfie from the side that shows all your naughty bits...
W1454
YOU ARE READING
Sugar Daddy Chronicles
ChickLit(Fee-bee) Phoebe was a part time college student. But that was before HE came into her life, Phoebe was a lot of things before HE popped up. She WAS; a virgin a full-time worker at the hotel near her apartment seemingly always late on her rent a...
