We all get stressed, and when it’s at its highest, we forget the importance of connection, making out, and doing the deed. When the world seems to be crashing down around you, the last thing you might think about is languishing in your lover’s arms. But your lover’s arms just might be the best place for clearing out the stress, In essence, sex is best for when you’re feeling stressed.
As clichéd as it sounds, there is truth in that “the brain is the largest sex organ.” That’s because the brain itself is hard wired to experience pleasures of the flesh. When it really comes down to sexual desire, your brain is doing most of the work and the body just follows along. However, you can’t have one without the other.
The person that was directing this whole phone sex venture was not the one I anticipated. She was not the sweet, innocent college girl that was originally invented but someone that was strong and seductive. A take no shit kind of woman that was clever enough to know that the longer she manipulated the caller, the more money she would earn. At first, it was difficult to discern the reality of it all, but then a thought occurred—if I was that one that created her, then she must be an unexpressed part of me. I surrendered and Gigi was now at the controls.
A majority of the nightly phone sessions involved blow jobs, anal sex, regular sex, and masturbation that were usually completed in under 3 minutes. There was a lot of moaning, heavy breathing, and the proverbial ‘oh baby you’re so big!’ So for the sake keeping this story interesting, Gigi is stepping in to share some of the most memorable calls—the ones that required a lot of imagination and realistic sound effects. Eventually I learned to maintain an arsenal of items on hand such as a vibrator, a wooden spoon, a belt, a pair of scissors and a can of whipped cream.
To protect the identity of the participants, their names have been changed to reflect their character.
The Professor: Connection 15 Minutes
My first ever phone session was with a gentleman interested in teaching me how to shave my pubic hair. He gave me a brief lecture on the importance of good hygiene and that all good girls have clean, shaved pleasure places. Taking that as a cue, I quickly adapted my character to someone that barely got a GED and used the word ‘like’ a lot.
He reminded me of a Daddy-Professor, with his clear diction and advanced language skills. In my mind, I saw a plump older gentleman with a bushy beard and beer belly that smelled of pipe tobacco smoke. I could tell he was getting turned on when I starting explaining the imaginary color of my downy pubic hair, and that indeed, the carpet matched the drapes. But that my dilemma was when wearing a bathing suit, all of the curly red hair crept out of my crevice. It made me feel embarrassed because all the other girls would laugh at me. The Professor proceeded to calm my fears and tell me that I was beautiful and then ordered me to retrieve a warm bowl of water, shaving cream and a straight razor.
The first thing to pop into my logical thinking head was there is no way! I don’t even own a straight razor. I had to think fast—what would make the sound of shaving cream? While the Professor and I were getting acquainted, I managed to sneak into the kitchen and grab the first thing I could see, a can of whipping cream. Perfecto!
I whisked the Professor away into my imaginary bathroom and described how I was removing my little, pink panties (all while sitting in my cushy office chair). His breath was heavier than it was before, indicating that he was fluffing himself up a little. I placed the whipped cream canister next to the mouth piece of my headphone and let a blast of the sticky cream fill my hands. Making sexy moaning sounds, he instructed me to sit on the toilet and spread my legs wide open.
Step-by-step, the Professor went through the instruction process. Moisten the hair with the warm water, smear on the shaving cream, and get the straight razor prepared. In between the descriptive details, I played along by making sucking sounds with my lips. I explained to him that the shiny razor felt cold as it moved upward to remove the hair. Taking him through the stroke by stroke process, he was very close to climaxing. It was when I felt the bare skin under my fingertips, he finally orgasmed.
The Professor was kind and grateful. He thanked me for a good time and just prior to completing the call, he said that he would call again tomorrow. I never heard from the Professor again, but I do hope that he remembers the time we spent together.
The Firefighter: Connection 35 Minutes
After a few days of the typical “suck me off” Joe’s, there was a connection request from a demur guy. At first I thought he was a prepubescent boy because of his falsetto pitch. Then I soon realized, like me, he was just acting. He resided in a large city and was a firefighter. The description did not match the voice, but who was I to judge; this was a fantasy playground. Anyone can be anyone.
It took about 10 minutes of chit-chat and then he finally admitted why he was calling. He was a naughty boy and needed to be punished for not cleaning his apartment. There was even a bright red paddle available for me (or rather him) to use.
Since my nerves had subsided, I was getting better at creating quick scenarios and enchanted many of my callers. The Firefighter was a champ at taking instruction and was more than excited to disrobe for his mistress. To me it was fun, because I’ve never been addressed as ‘yes mistress.’ But coming up with a creative method for self-flagellation is a lot harder than one would imagine.
My first instruction was for him was to clean those dirty, dirty dishes. If he did a good job, the reward would be sweet but if anything went wrong, the punishment would be merciless. Much to my amazement, he proceeded to wash out his sink. I could hear the water running over the clamoring dishes. My remarks that he was such a good boy made him sound giddy. When suddenly there was a crash and the sound of breaking glass. He was very apologetic and pleaded with me not to be unkind. It felt weird scolding a stranger over the phone but went ahead with it anyway. The Firefighter asked what my plan was for him, and I explained there will be no reward, but severe punishment as promised.
As instructed, he moved himself into the bedroom. The ruffle of the phone indicated that he was maneuvering himself into position. I yelled that he was an awful boy and could not do anything right. He, of course, agreed. His mistress demanded punishment. The Firefighter begged me not to—in that strange sounding voice.
He was told that 20 smacks on the ass would remedy the broken glass and if all were to my satisfaction, we would discuss a reward for proper counting. One! Smack, I heard over the earpiece. Two! Three! With every number came another smack, and with every smack there was the sound of whimpering. I’ll never know if he was actually punishing himself, but the thought of having that much power over someone is a little nuts. The control was boosting my ego.
After successfully pleasing his mistress, the Firefighter was commanded to lie on his back. I asked him to close his eyes and allow me to demonstrate that his mistress was no longer displeased. Securely tucked into his make believe world, I proceeded to stroke his penis with soft gentle motions. When he achieved orgasm, that was when the real voice of The Firefighter emerged and he was pleased and said ‘thank you my mistress.’
The Executive: Connection 45 Minutes
You have a new message from a caller—press 2 to listen. The voice on the message sounded angry and demanded that I come to his office immediately. At first, I was confused but then it soon dawned on me that this was going to be an overbearing boss fantasy. I replied back with an apologetic excuse about the copy machine not working. Within seconds, I heard the familiar sexy tone: ‘You have a connection request!’
The Executive was angry with me for not getting his proposal out on time and that he needed to make sure I paid dearly for the mistake. Based on the description, I was now a young secretary dressed in a slim fitted skirt with visible garter belt lines. The tight blue angora sweater enhanced my DD sized breasts.
This caller had an authoritative voice, and I could tell he was not really playing a role. This was real for him in some small way. He requested that I approach his desk and bend over so that he could see my ass. Still confused about the scenario, I began to describe in great detail my (pretend) perfect ass and how it appeared in a pair of La Perla lace panties. The Executive was really turned on and shared with me the size, girth and length of his erection and exactly what he was going to do with it. He mentioned that I needed to wear a pearl necklace with that beautiful sweater.
He told me that my punishment was well deserved since I make him look like a jerk in front of the board. The Executive removed my imaginary skirt and stuck his fingers under my panties. After a few soft penetrable strokes, his fingers found their way to my mouth. I was ordered to suck the juice off his fingers. Good thing my hands were clean, because I proceed to make the most annoying sucking sounds with my mouth. As per his request, the choking on his fingers commenced, and I made those noise while sticking my own fingers down my throat.
After engaging in a long suck-fest, I was told not to move while he spanked my ass—hard. How is this going to be possible? Taking the wooden spoon that was mixed in with all my other foley tools, I began smacking the inside of my palm. With every strike of his make believe hand, I would yell out in what sounded like painful pleasure. By the time he was satisfied, my hand was tingling and red.
The Executive was very pleased with himself and asked for my phone number so that we could continue the discipline. Knowing that it was not only against the rules, but extremely dangerous, I declined his request. ‘Bitch’ was the last word I heard just before he hung up on me. Just like an ungrateful boss!
The Mechanic: Connection 2 1/2 Hours
Some of the callers just needed someone to listen—to hear their dark and deviant confessions. The Mechanic just came home from a night of partying and was watching porn when he decided to call. In an inebriated state, he selected Gigi because of her mature voice and lack of judgement against others. His first question was whether or not I enjoyed watching hard-core bondage porn. In my reply, I mentioned that if often inspired some of my greatest work.
I could hear a woman wailing in the background and asked him specifics about what he was watching. With the volume increased, I was given a blow-by-blow synopsis of what happening to the girl in the video. Now, I am a pretty, open-minded individual but his vivid details on how this woman was being tied up was making me a little nervous. But, I engaged him a bit further.
Within 30 minutes of normal yet drunken conversation, he shared his address, email and the town he was raised. On the surface, he seemed to be a hard-working, normal kind of guy. One that liked puppies and attending church with his family. But deep inside, he had some issues that need to be worked out by a qualified therapist, not an inexperienced phone sex operator.
As he became more comfortable with my acceptance, he delved deeper into a sexual fantasy of tying up helpless damsels and taking complete control. He mentioned a girl that once attending his school and wanted to humiliate her for rejecting him that summer. As it turned out, The Mechanic was a voyeur and liked to listen to his upstairs neighbors have sex. The ladder he used was set up just beneath their bedroom, allowing him listen intently while pleasuring himself. This was his usual night to listen but for some reason decided to call me instead.
It had already been close to two hours of a bizarre and twisted conversation. I was running out of inventive material to share about my fake self but continued engage in the make believe. In between the banter, the bondage fantasy world we created took a darker turn. With a memory tucked inside the back of his mind, he would worked up enough courage approach the subject of awakening the sleeping beauty. The Mechanic wondered, out loud, what her long blonde hair must have smelled like and the sound her skin would make while he stroked her. Asking him to close his eyes, I provided a sensory journey of her taste, smell and sounds, as she peacefully slept. But once she felt his kiss she awoke and begged him to — please take me now!
With phone sex, it’s difficult to know the difference between reality and pure fiction. It’s like being engrossed in a really good movie. The characters and scenery can draw you in, making you forget about the real world. The Mechanic admitted to being lonely and escaped reality from time to time. To cope with the recent breakup and to prevent himself from drunk dialing her, he reaches for the credit card and calls us instead. Apparently, his former girlfriend enjoyed hard-core bondage, but they never got around to playing Sleeping Beauty. To him, my voice sounded familiar.
Eventually the alcohol, he had been drinking all night, finally took effect and in a sedated state of mind, he began to sob. Relieved that the call was nearing the end, I assured him that he would fall in love again and the next girl will love to be dominated. With slurred speech all I could make out was the word goodnight. The phone clicked and the sexy voice said—connection completed.
Please Cancel My Contract
In my month being a phone sex operator, I accepted approximately 200 connection requests—a lot were funny and sexy, with quite a few were utterly disturbing. For me it was a great social experiment and soon became a game to see how long I could get men to stay on the line. I had some believing that I was completely submitting to them by peeing, masturbating, coming, slapping, choking or pinching myself. They were paying for an experience and at $3.99 per minutes, I was going to give them the best service possible. But in reality, I was seated comfortably is a pair of worn out sweats.
However, it became increasingly apparent, that I was not being a physical whore, but an emotional one. I was accessing a precious part of myself and giving it to complete strangers. For very little money, I was mentally and emotionally exhausted and all of it became too much for me to bare. The best thing that came out of the whole experience is not the stories, but the discovery of something far more essential. Through the creation of this sexy character, I got express part of myself that I believed never existed—a dominate sexually excited being. Gigi often comes out to play, and when she does, my whole world is under her spell.
He takes you in his arms and slowly strokes your hair. You look deeply into each other’s eyes while your moist lips lightly brush. You fall seamlessly onto the bed with your bodies touching. Your heart is pounding with excitement! This is your moment, this is your time! Suddenly you arch up and let out a loud, “Owwwww, you’re on my hair!”
Sex and love are never as seamless as we think they will to be in our minds. That perfect partner is never as perfect as we imagine them to be. Here is a little news flash, neither are we! That accidental knee to the groin last time wasn’t easily forgotten. If you have found that special someone that you want to use your groove moves on, just keep in mind that love and sex takes practice, patience and sometimes a little laughter can’t hurt. Just make sure you aren’t laughing at inappropriate times, like for example, when they get naked!
Of course you want intensity when it comes to sex. But it doesn’t always have to be serious conversations and longing stares. Learn to add a bit of levity and laughter when things are less like ballet and more like a game of Twister. Which, by the way, can be fun too with the lights turned low and the right accessories!
If you can make each other feel comfortable and less self-conscious while discovering, then a laugh and a giggle can go a long way in a long-term affair. You will find that if you can laugh together in the bedroom you can learn to incorporate those same skills in dealing with those little things that will drive you up the wall later. The quickest way to end a small argument is to find the silliness in whatever the situation may be. Here’s a tip; if you can make them smile, you are half way to winning the battle!
So go ahead and make a joke when his hand gets tangled up in your gorgeous long locks! Afterward you can move right along to the serious task of laying down your best moves and those deep longing stares. You could also break out Twister and keep right on laughing, naked of course!