Talk dirty to me: her response to The Phone Sex Experiment

A woman shows her beautiful legs on a park benchDearest X,

Sorry I took so long to respond. Sometimes you’ll refer to our dares as experiments, and that’s exactly what this dare felt like. I’m not exactly a tech whiz, pal, so if your next challenge is to build a vibrator from scratch using common household items, then count me out. Send that one straight over to my husband if you like. He could probably build you a sex robot, but then you wouldn’t have much need for your little robot me, so don’t count on me passing along his e-mail address anytime soon.

Dirty talk, though? That I like. I admit that in general I like to be the one being talked dirty to, but it was also a kick to be the one creating the fantasy, I guess you could say. I like being out of control, but being the one in control is something I’m also getting to like. It’s not easy for me to say really sexy things aloud, though. I’m just not good at it. Although I am admittedly a bit of a screamer, I’m not actually a dirty talker. Your experiment made me realize that I may actually be fearful of expressing myself that way in bed. I don’t know why. I express myself so easily everywhere else. I have sexual fantasies (as you know), but for some reason I don’t really allow myself to talk about them much, except with you (and of course the people you force me to talk about them with).

Anyway, once I finally got your tech up and running, I didn’t get as many calls as expected, and they definitely didn’t keep to the hours I had specified (late afternoon our time). When my phone rang one night after we’d gone to bed, I started shutting it off around ten (again, thanks a lot). Here’s the main part of my ad, by the way (I wasn’t too happy with you at this point): “Free Phone Sex. I’ve got a crazy friend I can’t let down, and this friend is so completely crazy that he gets turned on when I talk dirty to strangers over the telephone. Crazy, right? So if you’ve graduated from high school, understand what is meant by “a sense of humor”, and have a sexy imagination that can be expressed in words rather than grunts, give me a call and we’ll get it on. I’m a hot number, so please come prepared.” Pretty good, if I do say so myself. I’m thinking of setting up a profile on one of those dating sites just to put that up there.

Maybe there weren’t that that many calls because anyone who sees “Free Phone Sex” on Craig’s List and actually calls the number has got to be nearly as crazy as you are. On the first day the few calls I got were from guys who seemed to already have it out and to be seconds from an orgasm. They grunted a bit and told me to spread my pussy, without further ado. Charming. On one guy I think my “hello” was enough. He let out this long, deep-throated sigh and promptly hung up. Just doing my part for the freaks.

By day two of this “fun”, I was ready to be done with it. I was the determined to keep the next guy on the line long enough to call this a “win”, and the call came as I was having lunch out on a bench outside the [shopping area] (I bought my lingerie there, if you remember). I put my sandwich down on the bench to concentrate. I was wearing a shortish skirt and crossed my legs and lowered my head, glancing around a little furtively as if I was about to do this guy right there on the bench. He, at least, seemed to be relatively sane. He said he’d seen my ad and politely asked if I “would have sex” with him. I did some Oscar worthy giggling, and then he told me that he’d been a bad, bad boy. I’m not kidding, X. He wanted me to punish him, and so I figured what the hell.

I had him take off his clothes, and he wanted to apologize for the size of his dick. I couldn’t bear to be cruel with him and play that game, so I just told him that I would make it big and hard soon enough, and I said that his naked body was exciting me so much that I was slipping a hand into my blouse to fondle a breast. I wasn’t wearing a bra (I told him). He wanted to see my pussy, so I “showed” it to him, although I didn’t let him “touch” it. Even though I’d shaven it for him, he’d been too bad to touch. “I know!” he cried out. “I’ve been so so bad! You have to whip me. You have to teach me a lesson!”

I’ve never done any whipping or any of that kind of stuff, X, and if I did I imagine I’d get more excited being the one (gently) whipped, but the man seemed so naked over the phone that laughing at the request didn’t even occur to me. It wasn’t the sexiness of the situation that had drawn me in, because at that moment I didn’t feel all that sexy, but we were both talking about things people almost never dare talk about in real life, so I feel a certain closeness to him and wanted to help. Once I’d decided this, I sort of let my guard down.

Man, I whipped him. First I described my whip (a horsewhip, which I could picture from my youth and was the only kind of whip I could visualize. He wanted it across the ass, and I hissed into the phone, describing each blow. He wanted to touch his tongue to my breasts, which were dangling just out of reach. I refused and grabbed his balls hard. Now that I look back, I can’t believe how much of a dominatrix I became. If I’d had more awareness of myself, or if I’d taken a moment to look around at the people passing by, I’m pretty sure I would have stopped and hung up the phone.

But I dug my nails into his flesh, and then I whipped his cock hard when he begged me for it. “God you’re filthy!” I hissed, half blushing, half excited. “And look at that cock now. Big filthy thing.”

“Take it in your mouth! Please!”

“Maybe just a tongue. Or teeth!”

“Bite it! Please!”

This went on for a bit, and he was begging for everything, with so much naked emotion that I was getting really, really hot, hunched over on that bench like I was trying to hide my tingling body from the world.

He came with a cry almost as soon as I took his cock deep in my throat. He just mumbled something and hung up immediately. Funnily enough, I was pissed off, like I’d been left in a bed by a man who’d come too fast. I laughed to myself, thinking: But I wasn’t even done whipping him yet!

So I left my sandwich on the bench and walked away horny. First thing I did was shut down your ridiculous telephone system. Second thing I did a little later was go home and fuck my husband. I thought about whipping him, but I didn’t. When he started to talk dirty in my ear, though, I talked dirty right back, and he got so excited that he came unusually fast too.

So despite all your nonsense, X, I may have a new hobby!

Talking dirty to you in my mind,

Lady Dominatrix


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