He asks if size matters, so I start in my small penis humiliation thing. He says he's Asian, and since I don't do racial degradation, I stay with SPH. I tell him I'd never fuck him, but not because he's Asian, just because he's too small.*
Then he tells me, "I'm going to make an Asian noise for you" and spends the rest of call making a continuous grunting noise, as if imitating a pig/bear/monkey/goat who is in some discomfort. He occasionally interrupts himself to bark out, "White Woman!!"
That isn't racial degradation, right? Just a baffling pronouncement of some kind.
I tell him he is the least desirable sicko pervert I'd ever spoken to. We get the 1-minute warning, and I tell him I hope he doesn't renew. HE DOES. For a grand total of 8 minutes on the call altogether.
Then I made the mistake of telling the story to my smart-aleck husband, who now calls me "White Woman" in a gruff voice, then giggles hysterically. I should know better than to tell him stories like that... Oh, wait, or probably to you too...
If you wrote that into a work of fiction, nobody would believe you. And the press would murder you. And yet, someone paid hard-earned to have that conversation with me. Actually, can you call it a conversation if it mostly consists of prolonged grunting noises?
Remember my post a few weeks ago about developing crushes? And how some other phone sex operators treated me like I was INSANE for developing crushes on callers. If I only had calls like that, I would understand the response.
Hopefully, either he never reads my blog, or he reads my blog and gets off on holding the current title Least Sexy Caller.
* For the record: size really doesn't matter, at least not with me. Since I'm not monogamous anyway, I assume I'll have partners with a full spectrum of penis sizes throughout my life. I like toys and tongues and fingers and grinding my clit against a pubic bone way too much to knock someone out of the running for having a small dick. Vaginal nerve endings are mostly external, except for the g-spot, and there are plenty of ways to hit that. Creativity trumps size, every time.
Then he tells me, "I'm going to make an Asian noise for you" and spends the rest of call making a continuous grunting noise, as if imitating a pig/bear/monkey/goat who is in some discomfort. He occasionally interrupts himself to bark out, "White Woman!!"
That isn't racial degradation, right? Just a baffling pronouncement of some kind.
I tell him he is the least desirable sicko pervert I'd ever spoken to. We get the 1-minute warning, and I tell him I hope he doesn't renew. HE DOES. For a grand total of 8 minutes on the call altogether.
Then I made the mistake of telling the story to my smart-aleck husband, who now calls me "White Woman" in a gruff voice, then giggles hysterically. I should know better than to tell him stories like that... Oh, wait, or probably to you too...
If you wrote that into a work of fiction, nobody would believe you. And the press would murder you. And yet, someone paid hard-earned to have that conversation with me. Actually, can you call it a conversation if it mostly consists of prolonged grunting noises?
Remember my post a few weeks ago about developing crushes? And how some other phone sex operators treated me like I was INSANE for developing crushes on callers. If I only had calls like that, I would understand the response.
Hopefully, either he never reads my blog, or he reads my blog and gets off on holding the current title Least Sexy Caller.
* For the record: size really doesn't matter, at least not with me. Since I'm not monogamous anyway, I assume I'll have partners with a full spectrum of penis sizes throughout my life. I like toys and tongues and fingers and grinding my clit against a pubic bone way too much to knock someone out of the running for having a small dick. Vaginal nerve endings are mostly external, except for the g-spot, and there are plenty of ways to hit that. Creativity trumps size, every time.
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