Archive for the Role Play Category

I like big butts…

Posted in Body Type, Role Play with tags , , on January 28, 2010 by sexwars

In real life, I’m not 22 and a dancer.  I don’t weigh 118 pounds.  And I don’t have a tiny little butt.

So I completely enjoyed the man that wanted someone that looked like I REALLY look.  I have a butt.  I won’t deny it.

“I want to kiss it, lick it, worship it,” he moaned.

Wow, really?  I mean, it’s a bit soft…

“Love that soft, round ass.”

Well, ok then.  Go for it.

“I love licking and kissing it, I love pulling your ass cheeks apart and tonguing your tight little asshole.”

Mmmmkay.  But what about you?  Shouldn’t I be doing something for you?  Sucking your cock, perhaps?

“No, I want to spend more time playing with your ass.”

Well, ok.  This is easy.  Wait, need to moan a bit, emphasize how much joy this brings me…there we go.

“I think–I think I’m going to come,” he pants.

Wait, what?  Really?  I mean, we haven’t done ANYTHING for him at all yet.  Really?  He’s going to come?  Dang.

“I’m coming, I’m coming all over that beautiful ass of yours.”

Sure, ok.  More power.

“I want to lick my come off of you, get you all clean.”

Less common, that one, but not unheard of.  Go for it.

“Mmmmm….now your beautiful ass is as clean as it deserves to be.”

Thank you.

“Thank you, that was great.”

Wow, all that and manners, too?  Most men hang up without saying anything.

Awesome call.  Great guy.



Children and Sex

Posted in Role Play with tags , , , on January 26, 2010 by sexwars

NOTE: I have firm, firm, FIRM feelings about sexual abuse and children.  Feelings that involve castration and a new circle in hell just for child molesters.  Feelings so frequently expressed that at one point I expressed an urge to do something bad and one of my friends said, “oooh, I know JUST the felony you’d commit” which ok, is an odd thing to say, but not so much if you knew him.

My point is, me and children…not so much.

So today, when I had a caller who wanted me to be underage, I hoped for the best.

“How old should I be?” I asked, as coyly as I could, “fifteen?”

“No, I like you younger.”

“Younger like thirteen?  Or younger like nine?”

*I had a request that I be 9 once.  It was the youngest I’ve had requested.  I was supposed to struggle and cry.  I’m not ready to write the post on that one yet.*

“If you were nine, I’d wish I’d found you sooner.”

“Oh….ok, so, I’m five?”

Long, drawn out, ecstatic sigh, “YES.  I love fucking five year olds.”


“How would you take me?”  I ask.  This is my job, I remind myself.  Make it work for him.  Hope to hell he restricts himself to these moments of fantasy and NOT to really fucking 5 year olds.

“I’d lie you down, ease your tiny little panties off, rub them against my little dick–that’s why I need to fuck little ones, because my dick is so small, it’s only about an inch long when it’s soft–and then stick it into you as hard as I can and fuck you as hard as I can.”

“Your dick feels so big to me, I’m so little.”

“Say it!  Tell me you’re five!”

So I did.  And suffered through another 6 minutes of him moaning and insisting I remind him how young I was before he came.

I have a 6 year old daughter.  I swear to God, I meet one of those assholes in person, I’ll castrate him myself with the dullest knife available.

Fun with Transsexuals

Posted in Role Play with tags , , on January 25, 2010 by sexwars

I recently added a transsexual character to my lineup, and it took me a while to get into character.

I’m not sure why–I like cross dressers, of course.  I like gay sex (seriously, gay porn is SO MUCH better than straight porn, watch some, you’ll see what I mean) so why did I have such trouble with the transsexual bit?

I don’t know.  I kinda wish I did.

But I’m pretty much over that now.  I like that now, when I get a call for my transsexual character, I can enjoy it, talk about stroking my long, hard dick, get demanding to the men, things like that.

I think it’s interesting, though, how many of the men say the same thing about that.  They tell me some story of how they got into transsexuals and how much they want my cock, but most of them then add the statement, “But I’m not gay.”

Where IS this coming from?  Aren’t we beyond that now?  I thought we, as a society, had more or less come to accept the concept of homosexuality.  Granted, there are still pockets of resistance–and I live in the south, where the pockets are probably more abundant than elsewhere–but the debate on gay marriage, to me, speaks to a situation where much of the country has accepted that homosexuals are just like us.

And I get that my job has warped my original view of what “normal” sex looks like, but to me, and I suspect in the gay community as well, being “gay” has less to do with the occasional desire to suck cock and more to do with now you identify.  I can’t imagine the gay community force recruiting people.  (“We hear you sucked cock once in 2008, that’s it, you’re one of us now.  Come quietly.”)

I know this is random and not so much a story about a caller.  But there you go.  I was just pondering transsexuals.

Now, suck my dick.


Sex and Death

Posted in Role Play with tags , , on January 21, 2010 by sexwars

No, not necrophilia.  Geez.  Although I admit, given what else I’ve written about, it’s not that far from possible.

This is about a man who has unresolved issues with his brother.

Opinion of me, not in any way a trained mental health professional.

However, I don’t think it’s a big stretch, considering that he talks about his brother’s funeral–nearly 11 years ago now–and wants me to describe having sex with him on top of the casket.

So far, so good.

No, really, that’s easy.  Pretend it’s a table, right?  I can fuck on a table.  I, personally, can fuck on a table, not just my alter ego. THAT’S how easy it is.  And I could probably get the extremely vanilla sex loving boyfriend to go with it, too, which says something else about table sex.  But that’s not where it ends, of course.

Because it’s NOT a table.  It’s a coffin.  A coffin containing the body of his dead brother.

No, I don’t know how he died.  I can’t imagine it was a GOOD death, given that the guy is probably mid-30s, now.  His brother was probably in his 20s when he died.  None of which is relevant, of course.

So we’re talking about wardrobe–sure, I always wear short flippy black skirts to funerals, sans underwear–and then we’re on top of the coffin, fucking.

“What would you say to him?” he groans, clearly getting close.

Well, fuck.  I don’t know.  The wrong thing could totally ruin his groove and I don’t want that.

“Mmmmm,” I murmur, buying some time, “Your brother is fucking me so good right now.”

“Yes, yes, yes!” he groans.

“And you’re never going to get to feel it.”

Apparently, the sibling rivalry thing never really goes away, because that did it for him.

Impossible Role-Play

Posted in Role Play with tags , , on January 10, 2010 by sexwars

One of the ways I knew the current boyfriend was a keeper is that when I told him about this job, he was initially a bit uncomfortable but rallied quickly.  To the point where he said, hey, if I’m up on IM and you get stuck on a call, IM me.  I can help you.  I’m a guy, I can tell you what to say.  Bear that moment in mind, and let’s see what happened, shall we?

We have established that I don’t really like role play:

Nor am I an especially good dominatrix, being more of a submissive by nature:

So you can imagine the moment of OH CRAP that I felt when the nice man told me he wanted to do a specific role play, a domination fantasy and also that several other girls had tried and failed to appropriately execute his fantasy.

I’m thinking, dude, hang up now, save yourself some money.  There’s just no way.  But I think, no, I can do this.  I do a lot of things I’m not comfortable with and it’s good for me.

Allrighty, so what do you want, precisely?

“I want to pretend to be a wealthy elderly businessman.  You’re my young, sexy assistant.  I treat you like crap, but I’ve promised to leave you my frozen sperm when I die so you can use it to make a baby and have access to my estate that way.  You’re always a little afraid that I’m not going to really leave you my sperm, but you really want it so you keep working for me.”

Right about now, I’m thinking, you’ve watched yourself a wee bit too much Ugly Betty, my friend.  What else’ve you got?

“In this fantasy, I wake up to find myself gagged and tied to a table.  You come in.  At first I’m not sure if you’re going to help me or if you’re why I’m tied down.  You taunt and tease me, ticking various parts of my body, laughing like an evil queen in the early Disney movies and finally coaxing my cream so you don’t have to take my shit anymore.  I’ll be gagged, remember, so I can’t give you direction.”

FUCK.  I have no IDEA.

So I IM the boyfriend, while I start talking, doing as much as I can considering I’m WAY over my head.

I send him the entire scenario–props to my multi-tasking on that, to be talking the beginnings of this fantasy while typing the synapsis–and wait while he ponders it.

Normally, he’s lightening fast on the replies.  The pause lengthens.

Finally, he responds.   “It’s impossible.  It’s almost like a Mensa test, seriously.”

The boyfriend is smart.  Very smart.  Not far from being Dr. Boyfriend, actually.  And he’s a guy.  He says it’s impossible, I feel my heart sinking.

So I press on with the fantasy, sending more targeted IMs to the boyfriend, “Non-traditional ticklers?”

“Um….something a rich person would have?  Long chains of gold or something?”

*rolling eyes*

“Babe, he’s an elderly tycoon, not a rapper.  Bling is not an option.”

I was actually quite relieved when he hung up before too long.  And thank GOD, he’s never chanced to call me again.  I STILL have nothing.