1-800-GirlFlick
- Isis Thomas
- Jun 9
- 17 min read
“Thank you for calling 1-800-GirlFlick, we’ll get you right real quick. Unless you want us to take it slow, baby just let us know. We sure hope that you love our flavors, a little bit for every taste bud, press one to talk to Jacob, guaranteed to leave you shaking. Blue eyes and nine inches, here to grant all your wishes, Prince Charming, no armor, white horse, he’s a charmer. Press two for Blue, our late night special, delectable and edible, belongs upon a pedestal, and will eat your body up until there’s nothing left of you. Or you can click three, there’s an Adam to your Eve with an aim that’s just to please, his tongue will bring you to your knees. Four if you want more, there’s a man who will adore, and then explore, with a key to the backdoor to do all the things you’ve been dreaming and more. Anonymous in name, and will fuck you with no shame let it go, do what you want, you’ll never see him again. Five for a surprise, assume we know just what you like. He’s a plumber, laying pipe, Mario’s yours for the night. Six for curved dick, real stiff, ain’t no talking, he’ll come through and drop off all the benefits and teach you tricks. No strings attached, we call him Mad Max, you can lay back and relax. Let Max pick up the slack. Seven, his name’s Heaven, won’t say too much but he’s a blessing. Eight just for a date, intimate encounters, for romance pick Nate, cuddling and flowers, what you need only say. Nine if at this time you simply don’t know what to choose, speak to one of our Flick Boys to find what's best for you.”
She sat on the couch with her mouth wide open. Carson had heard about the hotline from a friend but didn't believe the hype. It was prostitution right? Plain and simple. But the drought. The sexual drought she’d been in had lasted three years too long and she didn't know how to get to the water and when she got there she wasn’t sure she’d know how to drink. The dating apps were bullshit, paying money for a monthly subscription for the possibility of a connection. She didn’t want the possibility. Carson wanted guaranteed hot and sticky sex. Carson pressed four and held her breath as the line rang to connect her with fresh, ice cold water.
“Hello.” His voice was deep and rough, she imagined what he looked like. Was he chocolate, or caramel? Were his eyes dark or light? Was he big and broad or slim? Could he really satisfy her?
“Hi.” She whispered in a voice much too timid for the intense and fierce desires building inside her.
“What's your name beautiful?” Carson chuckled ironically.
“How do you figure I’m beautiful? I imagine a beautiful woman wouldn’t be calling this hotline for sex?”
“Why wouldn’t she be?” He asked in all seriousness. “A beautiful woman can’t know what she wants and go and get it? Only trolls want sex with no attachments?”
“I guess not.” Carson said feeling chastised. She wasn’t an ugly woman. Not in the slightest. She wasn’t insecure or afraid of men. She just didn’t want to play what she called ‘the bullshit talking game’. Most of the men she’d encountered dangled the possibility of a relationship before women’s eyes in order to get the sex they truly desired. Oftentimes after that game of feelings, the sex proved to be utterly disappointing. She didn’t want to be disappointed or in her feelings. She wanted to be fucked real, real good then she wanted to be left alone.
“So, beautiful, your name, if you’d like to give it.”
“Will you give me yours?”
“My name is Anonymous. Anon if you like.”
“That's not your name.”
“It is tonight.”
“How is this done? I don’t know what to do here.”
“What is it you desire? We can talk, I can come by or meet you somewhere, whatever you like.”
Carson considered her options. However it didn’t take long because she knew exactly why she’d called. She wanted him there. Talking would only make it worse. The girl was thirsty.
“Do we have to talk when you get here?”
“Not at all.” He said with a laugh so sexy she felt it in her abdomen.
“I want you to come over, come through the door, and tell me what to do.” The words rushed heatedly from her lips. What she truly desired.
“Hmm. Tell you what to do huh?”
“Yes, please. You think you can handle that Anon?”
“Yes ma’am.”
She rubbed body butter into her freshly showered skin. Her nerve endings were alive and sensitive in anticipation. She considered what to wear. No matter what she’d end up naked. Fully moisturized and perfumed, Carson wrapped her silk robe around her body before going back to settle on the couch. A shaky hand reached for the long stemmed glass of red wine of the end table. Old school R&B mixed with the scented candles and dimmed lights set an atmosphere that readied her body. Where was he?
Carson was a bundle of nerves. She was needy, frustrated, excited, nervous, anxious, and horny as hell. Her foot bounced and her fingers tapped the bowl of her glass. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, she didn’t want to seem like a virginal girl when he arrived. She wanted him to desire her and see her as the sexual being she desperately needed to become again.
Her door was unlocked. She didn’t want him to knock, no she wanted to come in like he owned the place. So he did. Anon was dressed smartly in a black tuxedo and shirt. He looked as expected, like the typical male gigolo, like any and every woman’s fantasy made manifest. He walked in and silence reigned. Not even the music could be heard over the blood rushing through her veins. White noise.
“Stand up.” He commanded. Carson rose to her feet immediately, thighs squeezing together.
“Come here, now.” He pointed to the floor in front of him as his figure filled the room.
Carson walked slowly across the room and stood before him. He smelled good, as good as he looked, as good as he sounded. They stood before one another. Her eyes watched his mouth, His eyes traveled over her figure, poorly concealed by the thin fabric of her robe. Her nipples sat stiffly begging for him to kiss them, but he didn't want to rush. That was rarely what they wanted and it was even more rare that it was what they needed.
She wanted to be touched. Badly. Very badly. But he hadn’t, and he hadn’t given another command. His presence in her home, his heat, her heat, it lived and moved swirling around them in an invisible mass pressing them together. He bit his lip and she licked her own. She nearly whimpered when he slipped past her to sit on the couch leaving her cold and alone.
“Crawl to me.”
Carson turned and gave him a look that questioned his sanity. She liked the way he sat, muscled legs spread, large hands resting on his thighs, reclining with his head on the back on the couch. He tilted his head to the side in question. Dignity aside, she wanted to. Carson wanted nothing more than to drop to her knees and crawl between his thighs. So she set aside her feminist rules and fell to the soft tan carpet. She watched as a sultry smile slid across his full lips. He was pleased with her.
“Good girl.”
He sat up and caressed her face and she melted into his palm. A moan escaped her when his thumb pressed against her lips before entering her mouth. He tasted clean, she liked that. Had been wondering before about cleanliness in his profession. She realized she had a lot of questions, but her hands were on his thighs, and desire wet her own. Wherever he led, she was sure to follow, and she prayed like hell that it was to water.
“Take off your robe.” He removed his finger, to her dismay and began removing his tuxedo jacket while her robe pooled on her feet beneath her. She clocked his physique through his clothing. Everything was so hard, everything about him. And the bulge in his pants, it was angry, imprisoned under layers of fabric, pressing against his zipper. She wanted to free it, free him, but she knew she had to wait. She wasn’t in charge tonight.
He didn’t remove his shirt, but he unbuttoned his pants and slid his zipper down. Her gaze remained fixed in place waiting for it to spring free but he stopped there. His hands traveled back to his thighs and he watched her. Her body warmed wherever his eyes touched, ready for everything he had in store. Carson had not a single regret. Actually, that’s a lie. Carson regretted the fact that she hadn’t been informed sooner about Girl Flick. The evening's possibilities swarmed in her mind and the resulting feeling intoxicated her.
“You are beautiful.” He said, looking into her eyes. The space between them felt too much to her, but she sat still. “Climb up here.”
Carson slid her hands up his legs as she made her way up his body. She took in his thighs, then his abs, then his neck. She straddled his waist and settled into him. Her core throbbed for him, on him. Then he touched her. Warm, soft hands held her waist then stroked her back. She shivered at his touch. Nose to nose, mouth to mouth, she inhaled Anon’s breath and stroked the soft hairs at the base of his neck. It felt good to be held again.
“Can we kiss?” He asked modestly. But his mouth was already so close to hers. She couldn’t fathom a version of this night in which they didn’t kiss. But she was a rational woman, and this was an escort. For the first time tonight, she spoke.
“Is kissing usually on the menu?” She asked, lips grazing his. Her body had begun to move. She hadn’t been told to, and she hadn’t exactly decided to, but she couldn’t help it. Slowly she rode him, fighting the urge to tear into his mouth with fervor.
His eyes were ablaze with wonder. He was aroused, doing his best to let the night unfold slowly and not tear into her. While it was true that a woman needn’t be a troll to employ his services, rarely did the woman look like the one grinding on his erection. She was indeed beautiful, more beautiful than he’d imagined, and she smelled sweet. Her surrender was beguiling and he felt honored to be the man she’d given the task to.
No, he didn’t usually kiss his clients. The ones who clicked four had very specific tastes, very specific desires. They were base desires women wanted to keep secret, foot on the face during sex, fucking in full latex suits, golden showers, daddy role play, these were women who wanted a degree of control. They knew how they wanted the night to go, they had a plan. This woman, she’d left it all in his hands.
“It’s not. I want to kiss you though, but I’ll understand if you object.”
Her body said she wanted to. Her mouth hovering before his said she wanted to. Her eyes, searching his, asked if it was really ok. His eyes told her that it was, that he wasn’t filthy or irresponsible, that she could trust him. The same way the others could. He was Anonymous, and there’d be no evidence of him left behind, only the memory of him doing anything in his power to please. And her lips melted into his.
They attacked one another. It’d been so long for Carson, and he met her energy and gave it right back to her. Her hands gripped him by the shirt, slid over his closely shaven head, pressed into the sides of his face, and pulled him deeper into her mouth. Anon ate it up, he could tell it’d been awhile, her body was needy. She jumped at his every touch, eyes rolling into the back of her head.
Her body pressed into his, grinding in slow circles, he let her have her way and sunk his hands into the cushions. He deprived her of his touch but never released her mouth, she wouldn’t allow it anyhow. She feasted on his lips, sucked his tongue, and let him have hers. It was all she could do not to burrow into him. He felt so good beneath her, hard and strong. Everything she’d wanted. Ready to have her, Anon grabbed her arms and pulled her away. She sat on his thighs, panting, eyes shaded with her desire on full display. Anon took a breath.
“Sit on my face.” He released her and rested his head on the back of her couch, a seat awaiting a lap. Carson stood on shaky legs and planted her knees on either side of his face. She felt unbalanced and was about to readjust when he grabbed her thighs and lifted her in the air, planting her directly in his mouth.
Carson wondered why seven was Heaven when Anonymous had her on the highest cloud. She saw bright lights behind her closed lids, and every hair on her body raised like a cool breeze shot through the room. Warmth filled her, searing heat really that made her wiggle and writhe in his sturdy grasp. Unimaginable pleasure. His tongue brushed over her lips softly over and over with his tongue slightly flicking her clit nestled in between. She shook but melted when his fingers slid inside.
Unlike her own, his fingers were thick and long. It’d been so long since she’d felt such penetration. She rode them, and his tongue slipped between her lips and was now suckling her clit. He sucked it well. He finger fucked her well. He did everything so well. Her hand slid over his head keeping him in place, she was so close, so very very close. Her walls pressed against his invasion, squeezed around him, trembled and quivered. She was coming, and he could feel it.
He wanted it. It was Anon's job to please, but tonight, it was more than work. Oh for Anon, it was much more. She tasted better than anything he’d ever had in his mouth and he reveled in every drop of cum that spilled from her. He was proud. Her every moan fueled him, drove him, he wanted more. Much more. He entered another finger inside of her and drank the resulting flood as she came once more.
Anon opted not to remove his clothes. The thought of her soft skin against his body made his gut burn. He knew this was a one-time thing, he didn’t have regulars, he never saw his clients again. Something in him believed that after a night wrapped in her legs he wouldn’t want to be anonymous anymore. He freed his fingers and used them to remove his throbbing dick from his underwear and tear the condom from his pocket.
She felt the heat of him beneath her. Slowly, as if in a pool of sludge, her body descended onto him. At first touch her head flew back, she was so tight, but she needed it. As if he could sense her need he raised his hips and took her the rest of the way. The fullness stunned her, Carson needed a moment, to breathe, to make room, to feel every single inch of him. She wanted to feel his skin, the fabric between them made her hot. Forehead on his, she placed her hands on his shoulders and began to move.
Three years, it’d been three full years since she’d felt the absolute bliss of a man who knew how to work his hips. Not only that, he was well endowed, enough to make her teeth tear into her lip every time she came down. He was deep, pressing inside of her in places that needed a good excavation. Dig, dig, he carved a tunnel to the center of her pleasure. Feet on his thighs, ass on her feet, clit sliding slickly across his abdomen, she rode him feverishly to her next orgasm.
“That's right sweetheart, ride this dick.” He grabbed her throat and watched as her eyes disappeared into her head.
She liked to be owned, possessed. He could tell. He gripped her tighter and pulled her lips to his. She ate his tongue, he gave her every orgasm past, and she fed him moans of pure satisfaction. They fell on him and he pumped into her with intention. He wanted to feel the way she squeezed when she came, the way her body tensed and shook uncontrollably. With his other arm he pressed her body into his and worked her slowly taking over the ride. She was coming again.
Too much too fast, she was overwhelmed with sensation and couldn’t handle the slightest touch. She bit his lip and was rewarded with a slap on the ass as he released her throat. It felt so good, everything. She was on fire. While she craved release she was just so sensitive. What came after desire’s flame? Bone and ash?
They couldn't stop. He wouldn’t let them, she couldn't deny him. She wanted it just as badly as he did, she just didn't know how to keep going. Anon took care of that. He kept her riding, kept her coming, and wouldn't let her pleasure end. It was euphoric. She came back to back, body convulsing against him. Her lips met his neck, kissing and licking her way through it when she could moan no longer. Then she sang into his ear when she could fight it no longer.
He held her tight as he moved her against him. It was so wet, so warm, she felt like bliss. She trembled and he massaged her shoulders while her walls tightened around him. Nails pierced his skin, but he didn't care. He liked the way she collapsed every time she tried to sit up and take control and how she rode him through the waves. She made lovely sounds, sweet sounds that cascaded over the melody of him penetrating her wetness.
“Ouu, fuck.” She whined. Her desperation sobered him. She was coming once more.
“See, I knew you could take it.” He coaxed in her ear. She tried to get away from him, put some space between them, but she couldn’t, plus he wouldn’t let her. Her body was tired, but she felt so alive. How much more could she take?
“Mmmm. Thank you.” She gasped, he laughed which pissed her off because she was being completely sincere. She was so thankful. He’d given her everything that she wanted, everything she’d needed, and he still wasn’t done. She felt a pang of disappointment when he finally released her.
“Get up.” He groaned, when Carson didn’t move he slapped her ass. “I said get up.”
She stood on shaky legs with an aching core. She knew she’d be sore tomorrow but she couldn’t care less. Carson awaited instruction while Anon removed his shirt. Her eyes feasted on his chiseled abdomen and couldn’t believe he was hers for the night.
“Bend over.”
She did as she was told and bent over the couch. His hands brushed over her burning ass cheeks. She wanted him to smack it again, and again. Felt she needed it, but she didn’t know why. Her back arched, she craved more of him even though she wasn’t sure if she could take it. He granted her unspoken wish and slapped her ass once more. It was so visceral, it stung but it felt so good.
“Again, please.”
And he obliged.
Then he was inside of her. Her legs felt like they might give way. He bent them and situated her on the couch. He wanted her comfortable while he had his way.
He was so deep, dropping dick into the depths of her stomach. She gripped the pillows that cushioned her face and met him stroke for stroke. She knew the night was coming to an end, she could feel it in the way he fought to keep control. She loved knowing she pleased him too. He’d been with so many women, perfected these moves ages ago. There was nothing new under the sun for him. Yet soft moans fell on her, pleading moans. He didn’t want it to end, selfishly neither did she, but it was so unfair.
She’d had countless orgasms, countless earth shattering, time stopping moments gifted to her by him. He had yet to get his. Her efforts increased. She let her hips have their way, do as they pleased. Her walls squeezed him rhythmically, sucking him in whenever he withdrew. Anon sucked air between his teeth, mesmerized by the way her ass crashed into him like waves.
Would she forgive him? He was so close, he couldn’t hold it any longer. This was her night, yet she’d done so much for him. Anon was confident in his skills. Women pressed four more often than not. But Anon fucked them, they didn’t fuck Anon. This woman had drained him of reason with her walls. He could only imagine what she could do if she were in control, touching him however she pleased. He could only imagine what they could do with a full night together, naked, in her bed. He lost control of his body, slow grinding into her, she shook, trying to milk him but driving herself insane.
Anon covered her body with his and flipped their bodies so that she was astride him. Hand around her neck, arm fastened around her waist, he lifted her up and down on him. He shivered as her wetness covered him and she trembled in turn. Her hands caressed his arms and he felt weak.
“Ah fuck,” He groaned into her ear as another orgasm took Carson by storm. He loved how her body screamed every time she reached ecstasy. Wet, wild, and loud. His tongue lapped at her neck and he savored the taste of her sweat. He couldn’t hold it any longer. Holding her close, resting deep in her belly, Anon released himself roughly and cursed the devil for ever creating a sin so sweet.
“Do you want to talk now?” Anon asked, his fingers sliding around her nipples. Carson squirmed slightly on the softening penis turning gummy inside herself.
“Is this the part where we discuss payment?” She asked hoarsely. She needed some water, and to detach her sweaty, sticky body from his. Satisfied was too small a word to describe what she felt. Her limbs were so relaxed she could barely feel them. But she knew what this was, it was time for Anonymous to go.
“No,” he said with a laugh. “This is the part where you tell me your name.”
Carson turned slightly to eye his face. He was serious. The sex had been good, amazing even but after tonight, she had every intention to dial that number and try each and every option. Anon had infatuation in his eyes. That was also the issue Carson had with the talking game bullshit, the phase when men became infatuated and wanted more than sex, but less than a relationship. It was written all over Anon’s face and she wondered how he lasted in his profession. She hadn’t even shown him anything yet.
“It’s Jane Doe.” She said, grabbing her robe and rising to her feet. She slid it on without closing it and shot Anon a wink.
He nodded and gave another laugh adorning an expression that implied he understood clearly. He did. This was indeed one night for her, and she did know exactly what she wanted. No matter what he’d told her to do, he’d never been in control, and now the ride was done. Anon watched as she sashayed over to her purse on the entertainment center. She radiated confidence and sex appeal. He had no clue why she’d called their number, but he was glad she had.
“Jane.” Carson turned with a smirk to find him sitting the way she liked, hands on his thighs, dick hard and pointing at the sky. She felt warm in her belly, empty in her core. Her thighs pressed together at the sight. “Another round? And how bout we charge this night to me.”
She shook her head, letting it drop to her chest.
“Anon, look, I don’t know how all this works but I’m sure you not getting paid is like the biggest no-no of the job. I’m happy to pay you, you have earned your pay.” She said assuredly.
“My name is Owen.” She closed her eyes wishing he’d never told her that.
“Anon. You can get paid and go, or you can get paid, fuck me again, then go. It’s up to you.”
He sat up considering his options. He wasn’t trying to be her boyfriend, but he loved the way she took his dick. This couldn’t be his last night with her, plain and simple. He was booked and busy, he didn't need the money, but he needed the way she made him feel when he was inside of her. Anon was indeed a businessman, through and through, but Owen was here tonight.
“Alright, I feel you. Hundred percent. However, What we did here tonight, that wasn’t protocol sex for me and I want to do it again. And again. I don’t want, nor need your money. I can pay the company for our time. I don’t want to be your boyfriend, or your man, I just want to fuck you, whenever you want, however you want, if that’s cool with you.”
Carson squinted at him trying to decide if she should curse him out or climb on top of him. Regular sex from a professional sex-man, for free, wasn’t something that came around often, she had three years to prove it. But did she believe him, that there could really be no strings? That they’d fuck and go about their lives? That whenever she needed a fix she could call him and he’d come get the job done, no questions asked?
“Can you be Anonymous and I be Jane?” She asked.
“We can be whoever the hell you want us to be. Jane and Anon. Jack and Jill. Will and Jada. Jay and Bey.” He said with a smile, sitting back and relaxing on the couch.
“Cute.” Carson said, removing her robe and watching as his eyes feasted on her body.
“Beautiful.” He said, licking his lips and stroking his dick with those large hands of his.
“Take off your clothes.” She commanded, staring into his eyes.
“So, you’re telling me what to do this time?” Anon lifted his hips to fully remove his pants. Carson hated that even his toes were cute when he kicked off his socks and shoes.
“Yeah, it’s my turn.”
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