Monday, February 15, 2010

Flesh for Fantasy by Chloe Waits


Getting into character Cynthia answered breathily, “Hello, this is Cheyenne.”
“Cheyenne,” the voice drew out the word as though savoring the sound. “That is such a pretty name.” The deep masculine tones were authoritative. “But, I would rather know your real name. I am sure it’s even better.”
This man wasn’t a fool. Unlike most men, he knew she gave him a stage name. Rather than denying the truth, she said smoothly, “How about you call me Cheyenne?”
“My name is Mark, Cheyenne. I am six-foot-two, well-built. Dark eyes and dark hair. Living and working in the downtown core.”
This call was really shaping up to be different. Usually they only wanted to hear about her looks. He actually wanted to participate, to be let in on the fun.
“Sounds yummy. I am a strawberry blonde with very long hair. Blue eyes, five-foot-five, curvy and tanned.” And I wear a bunny tail, too. She smirked to herself.
He chuckled. “That sounds like a playboy spread. I have a little more sophisticated taste. What would I have to do to get a real description?”
Her heart started to race. She got a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Yup, there wasn’t much of a bounce to this plain bunny.
“Okay, maybe you’ll give me a different description when you get to know me better. I would like us to know each other very well.”
In spite of herself Cynthia felt intrigued. She purred, “I would like to learn all about you Mark, like what turns you on.”
Cheyenne, I would really love you to tell me what turns you on. I don’t want to hear just what you think I want to hear from you. This isn’t about what I want.”
Knocked out of her canned responses, Cynthia was speechless. Maybe someone should pay this guy to talk on the phone.
“Do you like to be made love to slowly, or fast, and urgent? Do you dream of someone who knows your desires? The true ones. Tell me.” She heard the soft seductive command in his voice. “Cheyenne, have you ever had a man that knew your wants intimately? That knew your true fantasies?”
Cynthia couldn’t block out the flood of erotic images that went through her head.
“No.”
The acknowledgement came out almost as a whisper before she could stop herself.