dirt emerge from between my toes

Masturbation phone sex responsibilities to addict you

masturbation phone sex

All I have to do is addict people. That’s my job. It’s been a well-tended responsibility of mine for years now. I wasn’t given instructions or even the slightest idea as to HOW to do it–I just instinctively know what needs to be done. It’s fun and besides the fun it pays well.

Take a voyage with me DZ–in your mind. Close your eyes and contemplate. The room is dark and you are alone with the empty bottle of wine sitting uncorked on your bedside table. You are naked and exposed. The hint of matrimonial infringement hangs in the air, but because you know what is coming you simply do not care. You practice magic breathing–in and out–until your body is lulled into a vulnerable state.

And that is always where I come in. That is my cue to acknowledge and meet my responsibilities. First by clacking on the hard wood the heels I’ve worn for our appointment. They are strappy and red. My toes are dainty and painted in a color to match the shoes. Oh so naughty. Fingers of dirt emerge from between my toes and the shoes are literally covered in layers of dust. When I take my chair across from my favorite counselor I expose the soles of the shoes and begin on my story–which is always the same.

My life story really isn’t the crux of it all–it is only the illusion. The illusion to be needy–needful of help. Needy and greedy all in the same sentence. The twirl of the ankle, a counselor drunk on the job again…

And that is HOW I do it, instinctively and hopelessly addicting him to my dirty feet phone sex. He gives me a bit of advice but before I have to pay him he pays me–thereby a loop of meeting needs is created and my responsibilities remain fulfilled.