Sweet Damnation (Richonne Lemon One-Shots)

1-900-Richonne (Preview)

A/N: Seattle, Washington 1991

Michonne Anthony, a 25-year-old student is burdened with student fees and the cost of living on the constant increase. So the beautiful barista takes a second job at Hot-Chat, a phone sex business.

At the age of 30, Rick Grimes runs his own company that is growing in revenue due to high demand, he is enjoying life as a wealthy bachelor. Loneliness only gets to him now and then which leads him to call a phone sex number.

Part I of V

Rated R

MICHONNE POV

Oh, baby, that's so good, tell me again, he breathed heavily into the phone. I could hear him groan and the faint sound of him jerking off in the background.

"Harder Josh, I need it harder!" My voice got higher on the last word and I stifled a giggle that wanted to escape me when my words elicited another loud groan from the man at the other end. I swallowed my amusement and sketched another line on my drawing.

My drawing was coming along nicely, and I grinned to myself as I made all the appropriate noises 'Josh' was expecting. I doubted his name was Josh at all, but if that's what he wanted to be called I did what I was told so I could get paid. Being a phone sex operator was fun at first, but it got old pretty quickly. I'd taken up drawing caricatures of what I imagined the voice over the phone would look like and it certainly helped the time pass at night. I finished up the portrait and I called it Eugene. I pictured a hefty man with, squinty eyes, cherub cheeks, and a funny outdated hairstyle. 'Josh' had begun his heavy breathing that sounded more like raspatory issues than passion.

"Uhhhh...Ohhhh" Josh's grunt of satisfaction rang through the headset and I mirrored his moans like I had an orgasm. He panted for a minute before thanking me and hanging up. I snickered and I clicked my headset off. I rolled my chair over to my computer and debated on whether I should take another call or just quit for the night. It was already close to 2 a.m., I tapped my fingers on the desk and sighed. "One more call and then it's bedtime," I said to myself and clicked the icon next to my profile.

I was surprised when the call immediately rang. It happens, but I am never quite prepared for it.

The good news is, that it always makes me sound breathless when I answer. "This is Michelle, what's your fantasy?" That opening line is so dumb, and super cheesy, but that's what the owner wants us to use, so be it. There was no response on the other end and I frowned. "Hello, are you still there? "I asked, keeping my voice cheerful. A brief cough sounded before a low voice spoke.

"Sorry, ah I...Didn't expect that opening."

His response surprised me, and I settled back in my chair. "What did you expect?"

"Something else... something, not so cliché."

A laugh burst out of me. I couldn't believe someone agreed with me, and out of all people, a caller.

"Let me guess, you've never called a number like this before," I said, making sure my voice was laced with pure skepticism.

A dark chuckle resonated through the line and goosebumps prickled my skin. My mouth dropped open at the reaction. My body has never responded to the dirtiest of words since the first week of calls. After a month, I was desensitized. Still, I held a small feeling of satisfaction that nothing but my voice and words can make men and sometimes women come.

"I haven't." He paused, then continued. "I'm not sure what made me call tonight either. Or why I am even confessing this to you."

I smiled, as I took in his voice. I quickly grabbed my pencil and began to sketch. "Well, I am here for whatever you need. If you want to get dirty, or just talk. It's up to you."