Frivolous Fantasy
The FrivolousFantasy app was a simple idea. Download and create an account then choose to be either a host or a provider.
Hosts paid good money for an anonymous provider to meet with them to deliver whatever sordid fantasy their mind could create. The address, date and time of meeting, along with any special requirements, appeared on the provider's account allowing them to select one that appealed to them. Then all they needed to do was arrive, as per the request, to fulfil the host's lustful desires.
And the hefty price tag made sure to attract only the most affluent and sordid customers...
babysitter
April stepped off the bus and made the short walk round the corner where she crossed over the road and headed for the address on the request. As she made her way up the path, she noticed the front curtains twitching. A head was peering through the gap like an excited puppy waiting for its owner to return. It disappeared as she approached.
She reached out to press the doorbell, but the door flung open before she could make contact.
'What time do you call this?' A handsome male, early-twenties, waved enthusiastically for her to come in. 'I've been waiting nearly an hour for you.'
'Err...Nine?' she replied checking her watch. That was the time on the request, she had planned her journey to perfection.
'Dad's gonna be pissed. You should have been here at eight.'
'The message said nine.'
'Well, he's already left, but he wanted me to give you some instructions.'
'What instructions?'
'I dunno. I didn't listen. Something about not drinking and him being back around two.'
'Next time someone gives you instructions, listen to them.'
'Yes, miss!' He made an exaggerated salute towards her. 'Thought you were the babysitter, not my bloody teacher.'
'You're the baby?'
'Piss off!'
He was anything but. Slightly taller than she was wearing dark jeans and a tight-fitted heavy metal t-shirt.
'While I'm here, I'm in charge,' she said sternly.
'And what about when you leave me home alone?'
'You seem to have survived.'
'Anyway, the instructions were for you, not me. In here.' He flicked his head as he pushed open a door and made his way in.
She followed him into a fairly standard lounge: three-seater along the left-hand wall, armchair behind the door, large coffee table in the centre of the room. The only element that took her by surprise was the porn film playing on the oversized television in the far corner.
'Have I disturbed something?' she said.
'What's wrong with a teen watching a bit of porn?'
'Nothing. I... Teen?' She gave him a closer inspection.
He was cleanly shaven and would easily have passed as mid-twenties, but his eyes did still have that boyish glint. She glanced at his wide chest stretching his t-shirt and his thick arms bulging out of his sleeves.
'Alright, I'm twenty-two. I look old for my age. They reckon it's all the weight training I do. Sit down. I'll get you a drink.' He left the room.
'Tea, thanks,' she called after him.
She slipped off her coat and lay it over the back of the chair then sat at the nearest side of the couch. Naturally, her eyes were drawn to the action on the television. She watched for several moments intrigued by its artistic style. It wasn't the frantic fucking or rough humiliation she knew a lot of horny lads were into. The characters were gentle, sensual. And there seemed to be a realistic storyline. They were actually having meaningful conversations.
He returned and held out a mug of champagne. She peered in and took a sniff. 'I said tea.'
'Do I look like I know how to make a cup of tea?'
She held it on her lap as he slumped at the other end of the couch and took a long swig from a bottle of beer. 'She's fucking Brad's girl,' he explained.
She nodded, clearly picking up on the plot.
'He's gonna be pissed when he gets home. Bet he fucks them both.'
She turned and gave him a look. 'Typical!'
'What?'
'It doesn't always have to end with a rough shag, you know.'
'It usually does.'
'This looks...different.'
'It's not my usual go to, to be honest.'
'Thought not.'
'What does that mean?'
'It looks a bit more...intimate than I would have expected.'
He faked a look of shock.
'Passionate sex. Where they actually care about each other.'
'I can do passionate.'
'Really!'
'I'm sure my previous conquests would agree.'
'Conquests?'
He smirked.
'And how many of these...conquests have there been?'
'Stopped counting years ago.'
She raised an eyebrow.
'Alright. Three. If you're counting blowjobs.'
She laughed. 'I wasn't.'
'Chuffed I've had any action.'
'There's plenty of time. You're...a good-looking lad.' She held his gaze as she took a drink trying to weigh up whether he was the actual host or not.
Babysitter fantasies were common on the app, but the baby was always imaginary or just a doll, and it was the father or mother returning from a disappointed evening who was the host taking advantage of the situation.