It’s getting pretty scary that I prefer having phone sex with Mr. LA rather than calling up any of the same ‘ol NY booty and actually getting it on. But it’s just always SO good and, because I’m using my own devices (well, not really devices as I broke my second vibrator in 7 months about two weeks ago), the O is unconditionally guaranteed.
In the case of Monday night, the O made three appearances in the matter of about 10 minutes. This is because Mr. LA has quite the descriptive tongue (it’s also quite descriptive when he uses his tongue in person, but that’s for another time). The first O came on suddenly (pun intended, I guess) about two minutes into the call (ok, while he truly is verbally inclined, I had begun the festivities a few minutes prior to the phone ringing). A few minutes later, after a somewhat lengthy soliloquy involving my hands tied behind my back while having my face f*cked – BAM: O number two. This time, he came along for the ride. (The great thing about phone sex is that you can time orgasms pretty well – unlike during real sex when the girl fakes it 9 times out of 10 when he’s finishing up. We watch porn, we know how men think it’s supposed to happen at the exact same time. Wake up, guys. Puh-leaze.)
Anyway, usually that would be all but I asked him to keep going. O number three was right at the gates (oh, it’s so great to be a girl). And go he did. In a flurry of description – none of which I can remember but I’m sure it included “fingers” “lick” “inside you” (the usual send-me-over-the-edge suspects) – I was coming again. But strangely, so was he.
“Twice in two minutes? Wow,” I said, impressed that thoughts of me could turn him on so much.
In the case of Monday night, the O made three appearances in the matter of about 10 minutes. This is because Mr. LA has quite the descriptive tongue (it’s also quite descriptive when he uses his tongue in person, but that’s for another time). The first O came on suddenly (pun intended, I guess) about two minutes into the call (ok, while he truly is verbally inclined, I had begun the festivities a few minutes prior to the phone ringing). A few minutes later, after a somewhat lengthy soliloquy involving my hands tied behind my back while having my face f*cked – BAM: O number two. This time, he came along for the ride. (The great thing about phone sex is that you can time orgasms pretty well – unlike during real sex when the girl fakes it 9 times out of 10 when he’s finishing up. We watch porn, we know how men think it’s supposed to happen at the exact same time. Wake up, guys. Puh-leaze.)
Anyway, usually that would be all but I asked him to keep going. O number three was right at the gates (oh, it’s so great to be a girl). And go he did. In a flurry of description – none of which I can remember but I’m sure it included “fingers” “lick” “inside you” (the usual send-me-over-the-edge suspects) – I was coming again. But strangely, so was he.
“Twice in two minutes? Wow,” I said, impressed that thoughts of me could turn him on so much.
“No, just once.”
“But it really sounded like you did. Like, exactly.” (He has a very interesting, multi-tonal and varied O that’s quite distinct.)
“No, just one time.”
“So you faked it?”
“Yup. For you, to turn you on.”
So there. It happened to me. Now it might be harder for that to happen in person but it’s made me feel kinda bad for all the times I’ve faked it. But, unfortunately, I really don’t have the time to call 38 people and apologize.
