Worth Crowing About 1954

I spend a surprising amount of my time as a phone sex operator, not having phone sex–at least not the kind you’re probably envisioning.  While the majority of my callers call me to cum, I’m often more of a facilitator than a playmate.  The men I talk to have highly specific, usually atypical, needs which aren’t being met…
Fetish callers want detailed “object” focused narratives.  Lonely, needy men are seeking a girlfriend they can whisper sweet-nothings to.  Sissy-boys want to be degraded and pushed around.

None of these callers want screaming orgasm “phone sex” from me, and even those men who want to hear me get off, usually cum so quickly, I’m just getting started.

and then there’s Top…

The first time I spoke with Top, was at the end of a night filled with progressively more arousing calls–all without me having an orgasm.

peek_a_view_1940First, a forty-five minute peeping-Tom fantasy.  I described myself undressing and touching my body, while my “neighbor” looked-on, unnoticed.  It was a hot call for an exhibitionist like me, but he didn’t want me to masturbate, just touch and rub myself.  After this, a ninety minute call with a sweet girlfriend seeker. He wanted to hear about my masturbation habits, past lovers, and what gets me off, but he didn’t actually want to hear me get off.  These were followed by two, short, wham-bam-thank-you-mam callers, with a lingerie fetish call in between (more descriptive rubbing).

It was a fun night, but I had reached my breaking point. I write notes during, (if possible), and after each call.  The only note I made on my last call, before Top, said…


Lying on the bed in just my panties, I was painfully turned on and desperate to orgasm.  I replayed scenes from the night’s calls in my head, trying frantically to get myself off before the phone rang again.

So close…


Damn, not quite.

The noise of disappointment I made was poetic–it still plays in my mind sometimes.  I answered the phone in a sexually frustrated haze.

From the start of the call I was struggling to focus on Top’s words.  I had reached a point physically, where I was so aroused, swollen, and over-stimulated without release, I was like a dam waiting to burst.

wet_pinupTop wanted to “get to know me” before we started.  I was still new to phone sex at the time, and we played the, “I haven’t seen you around here before” routine.  He asked me how my night had been, and I told him the truth about the orgasm-lacking, arousal-building night I was having.  My voice had the tone of a petulant child deprived of the thing she desired most.

Top said, “I’m going to take care of you Chloe.  I’m just what you need tonight.”

I agreed and purred in hopeful, thigh-pressing-delight.

I needed to cum.

He asked me to describe myself.  I rubbed and fondled each part of my body, as I gave him the visual in rich perverted detail.  My words came out peppered with sighs and soft moans.

I really needed to cum.

Top described himself as 6’2″ with brown hair, slim but built, and blue eyes.

Since this first conversation with Top, I’ve had many callers give me a similar self-description.  I’ve deduced: this is their fantasy self; the way they want me to view them, and the go-to set-up for the, “OMG–You’re a perfect sex god,” fantasy.  Fun, living erotica!

Thar She Blows 1939Top knew exactly what he wanted.  He introduced his fantasy by telling me about the building where he lived, and its cool, hip residents.

He began blending acting into our call, by letting me know I had recently moved into the building.  We had yet to meet, but have seen each other around and share a mutual friend, Mary.

Top said, “You know Mary is my fuck buddy, and I know she’s bragged to you about how good the sex is with me.”

“Mmmmm, a girl should know better sir.  Now I want to find out if what she says is true,” I said.

“Of course you do, Chloe.  Especially after she told you about the size of my dick,” he said, sounding surprisingly smug.

“Mmmmm… Top, I wanna see it,” I said.

“You didn’t believe her when she told you my cock was a foot long, did you Chloe?” He said.

I was impatient during Top’s story–trying to move it forward, rather than allowing him to build it his way.  It was awkward and involved saying “sorry, sir” repeatedly, while I continually interjected plot lines.

“Oh god sir, I need to see it for myself.  Can I see it Top?  Please, Top I want to see your giant cock so bad.” I said.

What A View 1957My words moaned out of me as I restlessly squirmed on my bed.

I needed to cum

Top was finally forced to acknowledge my obvious lack of focus, and said,
“Girl, you need to slow down and when I’m ready, I’ll let you have what you want.”
He sounded slightly irritated–enough to clear a little of my arousal-fogged brain. I apologized again, attributing my behavior to excitement and lust for him.

“I understand.  You want to be my slut, don’t you Chloe?” He said.

“I do sir.  Very much sir.  Please sir, make me your slut.” I begged him.

“Oh, I will Chloe.  You’re not going to be able to get enough of me.  You’re going to be begging for my twelve inch cock.” He said.

“Mmmmm, sir…. I can’t wait, sir…” I really meant those words–I was ready.

Top began speaking to me as if I were a little girl who couldn’t control herself around him.  His slow, deliberate speech gave me sexy, soft giggles and did nothing but arouse me further.

Oh god, I needed to cum.

He said, “Now you have the background Chloe.  I’m going to tell you the scenario, then we’re going to role-play it from the beginning and improvise to the end. Understand?”

“Yes sir.  I understand.  I’m ready sir.” I said.  I was too horny to be chagrined.

                                                      The Scene
frush_mail_pinupWe meet at the building’s mailboxes, and strike up a casual conversation while checking our mail.

Top tells me he knows right away I want him–he’s used to girls, who know about his large appendage and sexual prowess, looking at him the way I am.  When I’m caught checking out his “package,” he gives me a knowing look and invites me upstairs to his apartment. He lives on the top floor, (of course)…

and it’s a long ride to the top.

“Are you ready to play Chloe?” Top asked.  This was the first time I could hear arousal in his voice–until this point his speech was clipped, emotionless, and condescending.

“Ooohhh…yessss…Top… I’m so ready to play.” I was already touching myself, and seconds from exploding.

“Are you ready to cum for me Chloe?” Top asked.

For one second I considered letting go, but somehow I successfully held myself at the edge and managed a few excited, horny “yeses” in response.

“Let’s begin at the mailboxes Chloe. We’ll act out the scene, work our way up the elevator and inside my apartment.” He said.

Throughout our call, Top asked me repeatedly to slow down, and I continually interjected my soft pleas to cum.  

I’m a pretty decent actress, but this was an embarrassingly bad performance–worse than the cheesiest porno dialogue you have ever heard. I breathlessly tried to follow along and play my part, but I was too far gone.

I really needed to cum.

Going Up 1955After our virtual elevator ride, filled with my descriptions of roaming hands, lust-filled kisses, and my desperate, hot body pressing into his–I could tell Top was getting excited.

It was an inevitable decline into uncontrolled, wanton neediness for me.  With my eyes closed, the scene was real–as any fantasy can be, and by the time we reached the interior of his apartment, I was again begging him to show me his huge cock.

Top broke character, long enough to tell me, when he finally lowers his pants, releasing his monster, I go wild with nymphomaniac, lust for him.  I giggled and squealed at his description–he chuckled with me (I’ve learned since, laughter is a rare occurrence for Top), and we picked up the scene with Top saying…
“Okay, Chloe I’m going to show it to you, but I warned you what happens to slutty girls like you once they’ve seen my huge dick.”

“Mmmmmm, yes Top. Show me that cock I want so bad.” I said, excitedly.
I did the appropriate oohs and aahs at the unveiling.  I lustily exclaimed things like, “I can’t believe how big it is Top,” and “I’m not sure it will fit in my tight little pussy.”

“Oh, it will fit Chloe, but you’ll never be the same once you’ve had it.  No man will compare after me, and you’ll worship and beg for my cock like an addiction, until the day you die Chloe.” Top said.

“Can I touch it Top, please? I need to feel it in my hand,” I whined.

He said, “Yes Chloe, you may touch it.”

I proceeded to stroke my dildo (and other things), as I described in great detail the perfect hand-job, make out session–sloppily french kissing my hand like an inexperienced middle schooler practicing for her first kiss.

“Top, I need you in my mouth.  I want to feel you at the back of my throat.  Prove to you how much I deserve your cock, sir.”  I was still sighing and moaning, not hearing Top’s words very well.

Gay Nympth 1947“You want to worship my cock, don’t you Chloe?” He said.

“So much sir. I want it so much.” I said.

I spent the next twenty minutes “worshiping” his cock with my mouth, while showering him with awed slutty compliments.  In reality, this involved giving my dildo a most thorough blowjob, complete with genuine gagging and slobbering sound effects.

He kept saying “You like my big fat cock in your mouth, don’t you?” and “You’re my little slut now, aren’t you Chloe?”

I was completely into this, closing my eyes with one hand between my thighs, and the other guiding the dildo in and out of my mouth.  I was begging and whining with desire to get off.

I needed to cum.

He asked me if I could orgasm just sucking on his ‘glorious cock’.  I jumped at the offer to cum, and eagerly agreed his giant cock in my mouth would be enough.

Top finally said those four beautiful, magic words…

“Cum for me, Chloe.”

and boy did I…

Riding High 1954I took off like a rocket before my name dropped from his lips.  Time stood still, the world focused to a tiny pin-point and I lost myself in an explosive, mind-wobbling orgasm.  I could hear Top talking, but he sounded far away and his words were lost on me.  It took several minutes before I had the composure to continue.

“Chloe, how bad do you want to ride my cock right now?  Feel it inside you?” He said.

My answers were no more than grunts, moans, and random noises.

“Come and climb on my lap Chloe.  I want you to sit slowly on my cock, until I’m buried in you, balls deep.” Top said.

I was still cumming like mad; stuttering and breathing funny.  As I began the slow-slide down my biggest dildo, I start to cum again, unexpectedly.  One orgasm on top of the other, after being deprived for so long, and my brain shut down completely.  I slipped into honest-to-goodness, fantastically-real, never achieved in this way for me before, subspace.  I lost conscious thought for about twenty minutes or so, as I unabashedly fucked my dildo on my knees, while my bed squeaked and threatened to give way from my vigorous bouncing.  It was an earth rocking orgasm.  I came, screaming and shaking, oblivious to the phone now lying next to me on the bed.  Oops…

Marilyn Monroe Earl MoranWhen I finally put the phone back to my ear, Top was still trying to calm me down.  His voice was partially drowned out by the rushing sound in my ears.  As I came down, I realized, in a race for my own pleasure, I had selfishly taken over his fantasy.  Oops…

I verbally played up the intense reaction as desire for him and his huge cock, while I tried to gain control of myself.

“You make me feel so good Top, no one has ever made me cum like you just did.” I said.

“Jesus Chloe, you’re a wild one, aren’t you? My little slut… Now, calm down.  Calm down, sit on my cock, and talk to me.” He said, as I tried to focus on what he was saying.

Top spoke softly, asking me several mundane questions until I was calm enough to continue.  The last thirty minutes of our scene, I remained comparably in control of myself, although I did cum three more times for Top before we finished–once, while riding his giant cock again, another when he told me he was going to finish in my ass, and the last time when I heard him cum.

When he had finished and I was spent, we had an odd closing conversation.  Top told me about his plans for the following day as if we were old friends.  We chatted about future scheduled errands and dinner plans with his parents.  This was no longer fantasy, and I could tell Top wanted to feel close to me after he had cum (I get like that sometimes after I cum; emotionally-needy and overly-affectionate).  Before we disconnected, Top told me he could tell I really enjoyed my job, and asked if it would be okay to call me again in a few days.

Whew! Mission accomplished.

Sitting Pretty (Lola) 1955Although I was exhausted and quite sore, Top’s call was exactly the kind of phone sex I was hoping for when I signed on for this job.  It was an unrestrained sexual experience, and one of those calls I’ll remember for the rest of my life–like The Tickler, or The Professor, or all of the other calls I’ve put pen-to-paper to write.

I have talked with Top many times since this first call, and lucky for me, phone sex is a very formulaic process for him.  In fact, it is the exact same sex acts, in the exact same positions, for the exact same duration, every single time…

  1. Small chat with some kissing, fondling, and “I’ve missed you” endearments (10 minutes).
  2. Worshiping, slobbering, choking blowjob, which makes me cum (20 minutes).
  3. Slow pussy-slide down his cock, which makes me cum, into a nice hard ride on a huge 12 inch cock, which makes me cum two or three more times (20 minutes).
  4. Mundane “how was your day” conversation while sit on his cock and calm down (10 minutes).
  5. Another slow-building cock ride, which makes me cum 2 or 3 more times (10 minutes).
  6. Repeat steps three thru five, except, instead of my pussy, it’s my ass (40 minutes).
  7. Top cums and we have an odd, out-of-place-feeling, conversation about errands and such (10 minutes).

Two hours of porn-star phone sex…

Priceless. :)

Kisses and Luv,