Last night, I got a late-night call from a role-play enthusiast who normally sets up "Oh gosh, we shouldn't but... maybe... just this once..." kinds of fantasies with me. A little raunchy, a little rough, and always fun.
No set-up last night. He had been to a stag party, and had been drinking heavily. When he came home, he saw I'd sent him a follow-up email and went to check it. In his words:
"I had whiskey dick in the worst way until I saw your gorgeous self, your head leaning back off the bed, with that dildo about to slide into your mouth, and now I'm rock-fucking-hard and had to call you."
Oh. Really. [begin Alabama accent] Well, my stars and garters! [fan myself] [end Alabama accent]
Sure, professionally I'm motivated to send up follow-up notes in hopes that it increases customer loyalty and causes a few extra calls now and then.
But if I'm being honest, I'm more personally motivated by the thrill of hearing that kind of lust in someone who turns me on, and knowing that I inspired it. He didn't come to NiteFlirt already horny, knowing he was going to call someone and happen to choose me; he went from not-horny to ready-to-go in seconds from a picture. From a picture of me.
Hell of a rush.
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