Holy crap… someone took me up on my offer from my last blog post, so he could hear me being all loopy on my medicine. He said I just sounded drunk, and he thought it was amusing. He asked me all kinds of questions to see if I’d accidentally admit to some dark secret that I wouldn’t tell him normally, which made me laugh at him. As far as I can tell, no secrets were spilled … mostly because I suck at keeping secrets even when I’m un-drugged! And then he gave me a tribute for logging on for him! Ha! That cracked me up, because I was the one being all dorky and stoned and bizarre, so I was sure he was going to [read more...]
I love the creative use of language, and using unexpected words to convey exactly the right tone. I frequently fall back to under-used gems like Nifty! Zoikes! or Swell! for my own amusement. Yesterday on my last call of the night, in a delightfully winding and conversationally intimate conversation with a self-described Masturbator (but not the Masturbation Superstar I described in an earlier post, who I haven’t heard from in much too long…), he said he was having trouble focusing. I asked how I could help him focus, and he drew in his breath, and replied, “Well, jeepers…” So. Happy. Jeepers! I’ve been looking for you! I’ve been missing a word lately, and it needed all those soft sounds, to convey feeling a little overwhelmed, [read more...]
Public Service Announcement (PSA) from your friendly neighborhood Phone Sex Operator (PSO): Please keep in mind that your PSO is not told your identity / user name when you call, and cannot look it up until the call has been connected for at least a few seconds, and then only if she is at her computer and logged in to the right page, which is not always the case. “Mistaken Identity” mishaps can possibly occur. For example, if yesterday’s call to the new Role Playing listing involved me being transformed from a physiologically normal human woman into a freakish sexbot with a 12-inch cock, testicles the size of grapefruit, and breasts the size of basketballs… then today when you call the same listing and tell [read more...]
“I like a little bounce when I pounce” – New caller, complimenting me on being curvy in a way that pleases him I love it sooooo much.
Tip of the Day for phone sex callers: When picking a user name, double-check to make sure the word “poo” isn’t accidentally embedded in it.
“You are a lot of positive adjectives.” – The Omnivore, thanking me, after having an apparently mind-scrambling orgasm
I’ve never laughed that hard after a call ended. You totally win, babe. Meet the Masturbation Superstar, aka The Avid Masturbator (@AvidMasturbator on Twitter), aka Brad Hamilton (from Fast Times at Ridgemont High). He’s one of the wankers from my Sex-Free Phone Sex post, and he loves attention, and he loves being “outed” by the women he calls. I hope he likes details being shared! Our calls usually follow a pattern: we chat about women he finds sexy while he expertly strokes himself, and when he’s close, I tell him who to have an orgasm for. I’m fascinated by his “guilty pleasures”, women who are outside the mainstream of young, tight, Hollywood-types, but he finds worthy of his affections anyway. But this one topped them all: Christine [read more...]
My husband is a genetic mutation in his family by about 20 IQ points. His cousins made fun of him for being “a reader.” As in, someone who enjoys reading. I loved him even more for being utterly addicted to words in the face of adversity. When I started this blog, with the intention of exposing and exploring every aspect of the phone sex part of my life (and the phone sex part of my life involves a lot of me), I hoped that people who read my blog would bring a deeper connection back to phone conversations, and that it would enhance both of us. Oh yeah, I was right. Readers rock. My first reader-call backwash was shortly after Tip For Phone Sex Callers when a [read more...]
Remember the scene in “When Harry Met Sally” where Sally fakes an orgasm in the deli? A phone partner just asked me to “When Harry Met Sally” – to hear the sounds I make when I fake. I laughed first! Then I fought — HARD — to get to that space to be able to find that breath, that rhythm, with no stimulation whatsoever. I think I was disappointingly bad at sudden-onset fake coming. I think I actually need a few seconds of sexiness. This either makes me kind of wonderful at my job, or kind of horrible, but I can’t decide which! But… it was hilarious.