michael is
hella awkward in this,
but it fits him for sure :D

PRIZE COUNTER GIRL
‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵ 

ＣＨＡＰＴＥＲ ＯＮＥ
" BE A GOOD BOY "

— ᴛᴡᴏ ᴍᴏɴᴛʜs ʟᴀᴛᴇʀ —

   It was rare for Michael to stay fully awake during the day. Things have changed, including his shift having to be moved during the day. The pizzeria had a huge renovation and new employees were getting hired recently.

   Firstly, the main dining hall expanded wider and more spacious party rooms were built. The stage for the animatronics is now more vibrant, just like the newly installed arcade and a large prize corner. Michael found this as a major upgrade from the previous dreary environment of the pizzeria— and with more engaging entertainment for newer customers, the more his paycheck could increase.

   He hasn't felt this content in his father's business in awhile. If things felt they were going smoothly, he'll just endure it.

   In the staff lounge, Michael was chilling alone on the sofa, already exhausted from pacing around the pizzeria and working at parts and services. Down the hall, the echoes of rushed footsteps approach him.

   ". . . Alright. I'll be heading out soon, you need anything before I leave?" said Charlie Emily, a close friend of Michael since childhood and now working with him at the pizzeria.

"Nah. Think I'll be alright," replied Michael with a weak smile.

"You sure?" she fretted. "Remember you're gonna be training a new employee today. I think they're on their way right now."

   Michael rubs his eyes and grunts. "Yeah, yeah, I know. You have a safe trip home, okay?"

Charlie beams, then mutters a farewell as she heads out through the exit doors. Michael is left alone chilling on the sofa until further notice from his father.

It was around lunchtime. The pizzeria was closed today for the crucial training process of newly hired employees. At least Michael and Charlie wouldn't feel that alone or pressured to handle tasks in the newly upgraded pizzeria, and all tasks won't be placed on just them. He also tried his best to avoid being languorous for the sake of today. His father was always crossed about him slacking off during his shift, especially when he used to be a night guard.

He was never going back there again.

The thought of lunch hour evoked him to stand up and stroll all the way to the staff kitchen for the pizza. Michael always rooted for free pizza to all employees— a simple, nice courtesy along with light refreshments. Michael sets up a table for snacks and tidied up the place. He often wondered when his father would come back in time before the newbie arrives soon.

  What should I do for the time remaining?

   As Michael's thoughts drifted, a very licentious idea crossed past him. He scanned the pizzeria once again, double-checking if it was empty. Then he reached the prize counter supply closet; the only place without security cameras.

   The thought of her invades his mind again. That sexy camgirl he jerks off to most nights, making a mess of herself and fucking that sweet pussy. Anytime he daydreams of her premium videos, it stimulates his mind in the most filthy way possible. He couldn't fight the arousal swimming in him, he couldn't fight to grasp that pleasure.

   When Michael unlocked her premium content, it felt like discovering a goldmine to him. Her face. Her fucking face. Her beauty, her aura, her everything. Never has he been fixated on a woman like her, a masterpiece of precision and perfect beauty. Even her stunning nudes were so captivating to Michael; honey and sugar envies the sweetness of her pretty cunt.

   She even gave away her business number for phone sex purposes only, but he was too nervous to call her. He felt as if he'd embarrass himself, or act awkward for not knowing what to say.

   She won't be uploading anything since she'll be gone for awhile, Michael realized as he scrolled through her profile. What if she's available right now? Maybe I can pay. . .

   Michael exhales sharply, shutting the supply closet door and leaned against the wall with her number on the screen. His body was spiraling with heat; nervousness and arousal. But if he could hear her voice for at least a few seconds, maybe his adrenaline would cool down.

   He winced as he dialed the number, heart racing like never before. He has never felt such scorching fear, not even when he worked the night shift at the pizzeria a few months ago. The line still kept ringing and ringing and ringing and ringing. . .

"Hi! You've reached the Funtime Hotline, where you can talk with some of your favorite camgirls over the phone! The number you are trying to reach is currently available, would you like to speak with her now?"

Relief washed over Michael when he heard the number was available. He cleared his throat, realizing the phone suddenly feels hot from his clammy palms. "Uh— yes, yes! I'd— I'd like to speak, please."

"Alright! We will switch your number right over shortly. Please be sure you're in a position to make payment, and we only accept online payment. You must also be at least 19 and above to chat, or your number will be permanently blocked from our system. Your bill summary will be texted to you when the line ends, along with your proof of verification. Have a good rest of your day~"

The line dials again. Michael kept doing some breathing exercises in attempt to relax, the same routine he'd do when he would work the nightshift. But he just couldn't stop panicking internally. Excitement, arousal, nervousness, anxiety, mixed emotions— his body was growing hotter that he had to unbutton his uniform.

". . . Hello?"

Michael's lungs tightened when he held his breath at her voice. He shivered slightly. His movements froze like a deer trapped in headlights. When he exhaled through his nose, he could hear his shaky breath. Her voice was just so amusing to hear; getting the opportunity to finally talk to her, to let her hear him, to let out all the dirty fantasies he wants to do to her sent him ablaze. . .

Damnit, Michael.

Don't fucking hang up now.

Just jerk off to her voice and get over it.

You'll never get the chance to fuck her, anyways.

He sighed out again. "Hey. Uh, this is my first time, so. . ."

She chuckled lightly across the line. "It's okay. I recently signed up for this hotline shit so I'm kinda new to it, too."

   Michael's face suddenly lights up. "Yeah. I've— uh, I've been a subscriber to your content and I just wanted to see if this works, yeah. . ."

"You sound cute when you're nervous," she suddenly says smoothly, the allure in her lovely voice having a grip on Michael it made his face very flushed. "You have a really hot accent as well. I'd love to hear you talk to me all day."

He couldn't stop smiling, switching the phone to his left while the other slowly palms the bulge in his slacks. "You— you think so?" he nervously chuckles. "I think you have a nice voice as well. I get, well. . . very hard whenever I hear you in your livestreams."

"Oh yeah? I'll dirty talk with you for however long you want, as long as you can return the same for me. God, I think I'm already wet from hearing you. . ."

Oh. Straight to business.

Michael smirked. "Really, now? Prove it. Let me hear how wet you are for me. Can you do that?"

Woah, where the Hell did that come from?

Across the line, and in less than a few seconds, Michael's dick immediately jolted when he heard the sweet, lewd juices of her pussy as if she was touching herself. He can picture it. Oh, he can picture it so good. How she fingers herself, how she can make herself cum; all that unholy fluid running down her thighs. He recalls how wet and messy she gets when she cums on her livestreams. It made him hard, really hard, he unbuckled his belt and slipped his pants to his thighs.

Even he was drenched with his precum.

"You wanna masturbate with me, baby?" she cooed. "I know you do. I know you think of me whenever you jerk off. . ."

Michael strokes himself, already lost in such wanton lust of a fantasy he can never fulfill in person. "Yes. Ah, fuck. I do, I really do. . ."

"You wish I was there?" —she moans quietly— "You wish I was sitting on your big cock and riding you right now?"

"Fuck. . . Yes, yes. I love picturing you on top of me. All the time, darling."

"I love my men so sweet and submissive," she muses. "I also love when my fans fantasize about me and jerk off to me. . . Tell me, baby. What else do you wanna do to me, hm?"

Michael was already swimming in ecstasy. All his anxiety was relieved as if it was never in his body before. He can just feel the sensation of his cock throbbing in his fist when she spoke. Eyes shut, body relaxed, and his tip kissing the cool air. If only he could feel the warmth of her mouth and pussy right now.

"Goddamn. . . I wanna taste you. All day. That pretty pussy of yours. Bend over for me, let me watch you finger yourself, and then I eat you out."

I'm so out of control right now, Michael's conscious thought. I'm gonna fucking come before she does. Please, please. . .

More of her soft moans were heard on the other line. It made him clench his jaw tighter and throw his head back when he fisted faster. She sounded real hot moaning in his ear up close, but he needed to excite her more. Excite her to the point she grabs one of her toys instead of using her fingers, have the luxury of the phone on the bed as she plays with herself.

"Fuck. Tell me more, baby."

"All I want is to make you feel good," he admits softly. "You— you got a toy near you, yeah?"

"Yes."

"Ride on it. I wanna hear your wet pussy bouncing on it over the phone."

Michael blinked rapidly when he processed what just came out his mouth. Holy shit, is this really me saying this?

The sound of a drawer opening nearby was heard over the phone. Michael assumed that she was in a rush to grab just any toy in the midst of her sexual excitement. He can hear her soft sighs and whines, picturing her sitting on a dildo she chose. Still fisting his cock, he imagines that it was his dick that she was riding on instead.

For awhile, there was nothing but hasty panting, sighs of pleasure, and wetness heard on the phone. She couldn't stop whimpering as she rode, clouded with intense arousal along with Michael. He just felt the need to release along with her, as long as he can hear her loud and clear.

"You— you make it sound real good," he whimpered under his breath. "Make me cum over the line, please. Make me cum, make me cum. . ."

His words reverberated in her head. All she could reply to him were staggered moans, wrecked by the delirium and impatience of an orgasm building up she quickly took the dildo and thrusted it in herself. Hearing her wetness kept firing the fevered urgency for him to release.

"Aw. You wanna be a good boy for me and cum?"

He kept whining and pleading. "I'm all yours. Use me all you want. Let me be your good boy. . ."

It's true, Michael would let her do anything to him as long as she feels good. He often fantasized about a girl like her dominating him, teasing him until he reaches his limit. He prefers being submissive— even though he's had no experience. But God, just thinking about it right now made his dick twitch and his balls tighten.

"Wanna— wanna cum all over your cock," she mewled. "You sound so hot right now over the phone. I'm so close, baby. I'm so close."

"I know, I know." Michael kept inhaling air through his teeth when he felt it all build up in him. His face was contorted, mouth left agape. "Cum with me, darling. I wanna hear you— Ah, fuck. . ."

Both of their breathings grew rapid at the same time. Michael's whines and cries grew uncontrollable, struggling to keep hold of the phone it fell on his lower abdominal. His body was seizing when his load released all over, drips of it landing on the phone.

She came a few seconds later, mind dizzy from the orgasm that washed over her as well. Those struggling moans when she cums were a beautiful hymn for Michael. He pictured making a mess of herself on the other line, pussy drenched and worn-out with sweet fluids dripping out. Then he pictured herself in a mess of his sweet fluid as well— all over her body, face, and her guts.

   "Oh my God. . ." she panted out a moment later, hefting out a chuckle. Michael was completely stunned, zoned out and still grasping on his cock. His head started to spin, vision fading dark then back to normal.

   He cleared his throat, still wanting to linger with her for awhile. "Uh. How— How was it?"

   "Not gonna lie. . . Your voice was just so soothing to hear. It turned me on. A lot," she exaggerated with another chuckle. "I really I love the sounds you make when you cum. Never heard a man whimper like that. So cute."

   Michael's face flushed red again, awkwardly grinning. "I— I wasn't even paying attention to that, heh. I was just listening to you. 'Cause, you know. . . I love the sounds you make, too. And the things you tell me."

   "Aw. Don't be shy. You were amazing, uh—?"

   "Uh— Mike! Mike. . . Schmidt." Michael's face scrunched up, internally cringing when he referred to this old nickname. He just couldn't reveal his real name to her. Not yet.

   "Mike," she repeats softly. "Well, Mike. You were amazing. I think I have time for another round before I leave somewhere. Wanna go for round 2?"

Before Michael could answer confidently, the front doors of the pizzeria opened. He held his breath as the terror bolted in his body like lightning. It was William Afton, his father. He was back.

"Michael, you here?" he heard him call out. "The newbies are coming soon, did you clean the place?"

Shit.

Michael stammered, his heart pounding uncontrollably when he saw the mess he made and the girl still on the other line, awaiting his response. "Uh— Fuck. I'm so sorry, I really am. But I have to get going. Right now."

"Michael?" William called out again, growing more irritated.

He pressed the mute button before he called out to him. "Yeah— Sorry, father! I'll be out soon!"

"Aw. Well, it was nice letting me service you today, Mike," she continues on the line. "Hit me up next time, mkay? Maybe we can turn on our cameras, too."

"Well, hopefully one day," Michael chuckles nervously. "Have, uh— Have a good rest of your day. Goodbye."

Once he hung up, he sighed out in relief. His load was still all over him, too tired from all the passion to even fix his pants. As much as he doesn't want to make his father more impatient, the exhaustion and exhilaration from what the hell just happened kept him stalling in the supply closet.

Guess he had more cleaning to do.

i went back on my
professor cal phase for
awhile and jesus
fucking christ his moans
and whimpers keep
reminding me of
how michael would
sound. that's why
he's stuttering a lot here.