Archive for Role Play

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.



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.