domination

Masturbation phone sex: A cuckold’s every dream

The day Michael became Heather filled a vacancy in my client list of depraved and desirable cuckolds,. I’ve been at this game long enough to know when a caller is being 100% truthful to themselves as opposed to going through the motions in a wishy-washy wannabe mentality. I mean I can fulfill the needs of just about any guy who wants to jerk off to me–don’t get me wrong–but I LOVE (repeat LOVE) the ones who acquiesce to their hidden desires. It is what makes me keep coming back for more masturbation phone sex.

Heather loves to dress pretty and over the years has going through various “sissy purges.” I believe that all masturbation phone sex addicts struggle with accepting his or her desires and thus they go through many attempts to run from them. Heather, however, upon finding me on this line quite by accident knew immediately that I was the “real deal” and a vast departure from the norm.

Heather wants to expose herself among other things, but not just in voice. She called wearing a sexy number–I told her to send me a photo–and she did. I promised to post it so here it is–this is Heather being exactly who Heather is. Isn’t that refreshing?

I told her that I don’t just dole out a chance to bear witness to me having real time sex to masturbation phone sex panty wearing cuckolds, but because I KNEW Heather was sincere and she had proven that to me just through photos and a very long phone sex chat–I set a date for her to be a real cuckold on this past Saturday night.

My email box was blown with the anticipitory cries of Heather…who was not allowed to cum until I told her to and I made her swear that all her clitty cum belonged to me by that point.

And so, what ensued on Saturday night was a real time cuckold phone sex session that not only blew MY mind–but Heather’s as well. And we’re just getting started.

Masturbation phone sex with “The Enforcer”

New employees are a bane to my existence. They especially vex me because there is a learning curve when it comes to the rules of my office. My time is too valuable to spend it over and over again during the business hours to teach them proper office etiquette. I have taken to doing this instruction after hours. It just works out better that way.

Tall men with facial hair bother me. They remind me of my father. The new hire is a tall man with dark hair and a mustache. This look screams filthy porn and masturbation addict. I start calculating in my head the monetary value of the resources he will waste sneaking a peak here and there on my company computers. I have simmered on this all day and have decided that the best way to ensure my office runs like a well oiled masturbation phone sex machine is to indoctrinate this obvious sex addict to my rules.

So that’s where the scene begins.

“Hello, John, thank you for understanding that employee orientations are best held outside of the fray of normal business,”
I begin.

“Oh, you’re welcome, Meredith,” you say.

Mistake–authority needs to be handed out swiftly and with precision.

“Now that you are an employee here you’ll need to refer to me as Mistress, all of the males here do so, do you think you’re special or something?”

It wasn’t that I said this in a particularly mean way–I said it as a matter of course. You could tell it was the masturbation phone sex rule and you also read the slight insult toward your person when I asked if you were special.

“So let’s get down to things shall we?” I say

“What do you think this is a power point presentation? I don’t have time for that, my time is valuable,” I say.

“Of course, Mere….I mean Mistress,”

“You sound like you have a cancre sore that makes you fuckin’ stutter,” and I imitate you. You are mortified.

I lean forward in my chair and you can see the tits hanging in a very sleek bra. Oh no! Your dick is getting hard. You can tell I am the type who can sniff out a man who hasn’t had any in awhile. You press your legs together.

“Have to hit the head there John?” I smirk.

“N-n–ummm uh no.”

“Stand up,” I coo.

There it is the incriminating tent of shame. I start to unbutton my shear blouse allowing your dick a better view. I laugh. YOu are trying to will the erection away but it just isn’t working.

I walk up to you and you smile. I look warm and inviting and for a split second you think you might get a kiss when the unseen movement of my knee connecting with your groin shoots starts to your eyes. You lean in.

“Ahhh, now that’s what I fucking love.” I smack you on the outside of your trousers.

“You look shocked, John. You should know I am very hands on–when a fuck nut needs help my knee is always ready to lend a strike,”

You start to recover. “You know if you were fatter you’d look just like that greasy porn pig Ron Jeremy. I bet you love porno don’t you? I bet you love all that fake shit. I bet you look at yourself in the mirror and try to make it look just like Peter North’s pole,”

“Mistress, I am un”

“You know I don’t give a shit. I so don’t give a shit. You’re just another John to me,”

I rip your pants off of you. Now you stay put asshole.

I go around and open the desk drawer and lay out the largest black dong with strap on you have ever seen. The sheen is gone–it’s had some workouts in the past and your ass twitches to think your anal juices will stain the latex.

“Yeah,” I hike a leg–those silken legs covered in expensive stockings. I take that skirt off, turning my back toward you so that you can see my perfect ass. I take it slowly, feeding what I knew was in there all along. A filthy fuck pig that wants to wallow with the big girls.

When I turn to face you and start to don the Enforcer as you have learned it is called you clinch your butt cheeks together, but you realize that I am heading for your face just a tad too late.