The Truth About Men’s Fantasies
I make men cum for a living.
Sure, I do more than that; I also make them moan, squirm, sigh, gasp, wiggle their toes, flex their asses, fondle their balls and, occasionally, beg. I do all these things because men pay me to do them. More interestingly, however, I do all these things because they are fantastically arousing to me.
I’m a phone sex girl or a phone whore. Regardless of the propriety (or impropriety) of the title, I’m the person your husband, boyfriend, best friend and dad are calling. I know you’re sure that there is no one in your life who would patronize such a service. That’s what everyone thinks.
I started out in the phone sex world as a “pro bono provider of steamy phone fucking. I was young and curious about any stranger who would be willing to indulge me with his phone number. It turned out that I was good¦ so good that I couldn’t help but wonder if it was something I could paid get for. And here’s where the story begins.
I found the ad on the back of the San Francisco Guardian: “Seeking Phone Actresses. Ah, one of the many euphemisms I would grow to love. I responded, got an interview (that, surprisingly, did not involve a reading or any other verification of voice sexiness at all) and became a dba/independent contractor for the company (almost all sex workers are i.c.’s; that’s how they make sure that we never unionize and also how phone sex companies and strip clubs, for example, shirk the responsibilities they would otherwise have as employers. But I digress¦). I was 19 years old when I was christened with a new name: Liz, a name easy enough for a man to throw in with all the other monosyllables that escape him pre-ejaculation. This September will mark my ninth year in the “jizz biz.
I didn’t know quite how to market myself, so I decided on my favorite topic for fantasy: my big breasts. Now I was in business; I was Liz, the tit girl.
Before that point, I was truly an amateur. No typical teenage female experience could have prepared me for the sorts of deliciously sordid and unabashedly taboo thoughts men across the country had in store for me. In the ensuing paragraphs, I offer my best, most unusual and most requested fantasies. Welcome to Male Sexuality 101: the edition he thought you’d never read. To begin with, every man has fantasies that he will never, ever, ever tell his partner, girlfriend or wife. Whatever your boyfriend is calling me about, you’ll probably never be privy to. Second, every man has fantasies that he doesn’t actually want to come true (or, at least, that he can’t foresee being able to cope with if they did come true). Third, nearly every man is curious about cock, shit, children or some other thing he is not allowed to like, want or masturbate to. And now, my stories¦
1. Daddy’s Girl. My aspirations as the girl men could turn to to discuss all their mammary-related indulgences quickly eroded when I came to the realization that almost every client was asking for the same thing: for me to act like a little girl. My voice “ soft and high “ elicits request after request for incest. Most of the requests entail seducing my daddy into completely erotic acts while Mommy is away. The set-up varies from catching me masturbating to watching me try on clothes to talking about my blooming breasts, hips and bottom. I’ve been told that their favorite part is hearing nasty words like “pussy come out of someone who sounds so young.
2. Big Black Cock. If I had a nickel for every man who wants me to fuck, suck and worship big black cock (and, likewise, have him do these things), I’d be one rich bitch. One of my clients likes it when I talk about black cock that is so big that he has to wrap his arms and legs around it like a tree stump as he swallows “ribbons of cum. Another likes to wank to the thought of me being a pretty, young, petite, white teenager in a gang rape with exclusively black guys. More than one fantasizes about black men seducing their wife, who, in turn, becomes addicted to the larger, better cock and leaves him or humiliates him.
3. Emasculation and Submission. Almost every single one of my men has secret submissive desires. Submission ranges from being seduced, experiencing cuckolding, being forced to suck cock, being forced to wear women’s clothing, having a wife/girlfriend stolen by a guy with a bigger (sometimes blacker) wang to pain, black mail, verbal humiliation, and being shit and pissed on. These are the parts he’ll never tell you about¦
One of my most exotic fantasies came from a man who lives in the Bay Area. He’s around 40 with a job at a major news network. It begins with me going on a shopping spree that he’s subsidized. I come back from my spree with bags of business suits, cocktail dresses, high heels, elaborate and sophisticated hats, bras and panties. As I get ready for an afternoon with my girlfriends, his sole duty is to make spotless the new red Ferrari he bought me. When he hears my heels clicking on the walkway, he knows his time is up and that I’ll be inspecting the car for any imperfections or missed spots. After placing the white glove over my hand, I begin my inspection. Inevitably, I always found a spot. Then, the humiliation would begin. He would receive a severe verbal lashing, which would include my calling him a worthless slave, an incompetent and anything else I could muster from the darkest parts of my soul. He was to address me as “beautiful, perfect, princess and would receive more abuse if he forgot my title. His ultimate punishment was still yet to come, however. I would get into the car, turn up the music and order him to put his hands, palms down, on the driveway. I put the car in reverse and run over his hands once and sometimes twice. Without fail, the thought of his hands being run over made him cum every, single time. For my services, he often tipped me $100 and at times $500.
Clients who enjoy being shit or pissed upon are often modest about their desires. I often have to extrapolate the meaning of their subtle innuendo, but I can always “spot the shit-lovers. It might start with talking about straddling their face or my getting rimmed. Sometimes there’s an “I want more or “push into my face, which signals their appetite. Men who like fantasizing about eating my shit seem to be the men who cum the hardest.
My last story is about a man who is in his late 30s, married with a toddler. He has a job in advertising and calls me quite consistently from places like the Costco parking lot. He’s very amicable and always asks how I’m doing before we begin. His fantasy is of wearing little, frilly panties and being forced to give head to either my strap-on or a real dick. The important part, however, is that his fantasy hinges on my blackmailing him to do it. If he doesn’t do whatever I tell him to, then I’ll tell his wife that I’m his mistress. Nothing turns him on more than when I put on my sexiest panties, my breathiest voice and, of course, make him suck on my best friend, Harry’s dick.
4. Homoerotic fantasies. So many of my clients have latent homoerotic fantasies. So, why the hell are they calling me? A rule I learned quickly is that men have this interesting belief: they’re not gay if you force them to do it. This fantasy comes in various forms. There’s tranny fantasies, men who want to swallow numerous loads of cum, men who want me to arouse them into a frenzy and then withhold sex until they get fucked in the ass. The list goes on, but always entails me “proctoring gay acts. I tend to think that most men are essentially narcissists (surprise!) and that this narcissism is emanated in the presence of another cock in their fantasies. This cock is, in fact, a representation of their own cock.
5. The Others:. Though few diverge from the arenas I’ve outlined, there is always a handful who have “special needs. There’s Don, a guy who just loves it when I talk about my soft skin being covered in thick, black hair that he plucks out one by one as he seduces me. There’s Nick, who loves nothing more than having every one of his orifices stuffed with my vaginal discharge. Dan can’t help himself when we talk about each of my pretty toes getting painted a different color (like Easter eggs) before he slips them into his mouth. Mike, a professor, loves it when I come into his office hours with a short, plaid skirt and tell him about how he almost made me cum today during lecture (he loves to masturbate in his office, sometimes cumming on his desk). Les goes crazy when I talk about my lactating nipples being long and distended like cow udders. Carl likes to talk about the time that he got an estrogen shot and began growing 38DDs. And every now and then I get a woman and invariably make her cum by telling her what a naughty slut she is.
God, I love my job!