"Hi, you're on Confessions After Dark... What's your name, caller?"
I know who it is before I even ask. It's twelve-thirty and he's always the last caller of the night.
"Good evening, Isabella, it's Anthony."
His voice drips through the phone like warm honey...
Anthony... such an innocuous name.
But I know better.
This Anthony, the one who calls me each week...the things he tells me. Jesus.
To say I look forward to his call, would be an understatement.
He has been calling every Friday for the last eight weeks.
And I listen.
It's my job to listen, after all. He just makes it a bit more enjoyable and intriguing.
"What confession do you have for me tonight, Anthony?"
My fingers dig into my thighs as I wait for him to begin.
"I had another fantasy, Isabella."
The way my name rolls off his tongue has me biting my lower lip. His normally low, smoky, sensual voice drops another octave as he seems to whisper his fantasy in my ear.
His tales have me forgetting the millions of people listening.
I lean forward in my chair, and press my thighs together as my hand drifts across my collarbone, then gently and inconspicuously teases over the swells of my breasts.
"Tell me about it, Anthony."
"I'm fucking her again..." It comes out fast and aggressive. "She's on her knees in front of me and all I can see of her is her amazing ass and the curve of her spine as she writhes, asking for my cock."
"Her?" I ask, knowing what his response will be.
"It's always the same girl, Bella, you know that. Long brown hair, big brown eyes... Loves my cock."
I hear the soft chuckle on the other side of the line.
"Her ass is pressed against me as I tease her with my dick, sliding it between her soaking thighs but... she isn't ready for me yet."
My hand drifts over the silk of my blouse, and I can feel my nipples tightening in response. I press my thighs tightly together and I've never been more thankful for the semi-darkened studio.
"Why not?" My whispered question seems to fill the studio.
"Because she isn't begging yet."
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Thanks to Marvar for betaing all the words, and not floucing us for tense changes in chapters and for loving ellipses as much as we do.
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