In this post about time limits, I explained that some types of phone sex calls have the unfortunate tendency to accelerate my dizziness to the point where I have to draw a line and impose a time limit, especially calls where I do most of the talking, or where more than one orgasm per person is required.
Last night, I spent almost six hours with one caller, from 6:53 pm to 12:46 am. Because of the time he spent re-charging his account, and one unfortunate disconnect, it worked out to 346 minutes of billable time. Wow.
Now, if you would have asked me yesterday at 6:52, "What is your prediction for your stamina tonight? How long of a call could you take right now?" I would have guessed maybe 90 minutes. I never would have guessed 346. No way.
So how was 346 minutes possible?
A few factors caused the perfect conditions:
* I was well-rested
* He did most of the talking
* We were talking, not fucking
I was well-rested: He was my first call of the evening. I had enough sleep, I hadn't tried to do too many errands, and I had taken things at my own pace all day. It was a lovely day, in fact.
He did most of the talking: The way the conversation goes with this particular caller (nicknamed "The Wanker"): he shares his thoughts about wankers / losers / beta males, the psychology of sex, the insistent physiology of the cock, the emotional complexities of trading sexual energy for money, and the simultaneously pleasurable / tormenting activity of paying an attractive woman to talk with him about sex when he knows he won't actually be getting laid.
The words come tumbling out of his mouth. I almost have to interrupt him sometimes to interject with a thought. For every thing I say, he probably says five things. So I'm listening, paying attention, adding my perspective, and coming up with good questions, but if I need a mental break, I can take one and just let him go on auto-pilot for a minute or two. It's handy.
The difference between "I am almost always talking" and "I am almost always listening" is huge -- I can go way longer if my caller is doing most of the talking.
We were talking, not fucking: For almost the entire call, neither of us were heading toward an orgasm. He had just gotten his first-ever chastity cage over the weekend, and he'd been wearing it for about 52 hours when we started talking. When he hit 72 hours, it would be the longest he had ever gone in his life without masturbating to orgasm.
So the fascinating thing to him about the call was how much more aroused he could get without having to end the call because he had climaxed. So topics that normally would send him over the edge? Keep exploring those, and push hard, because he can't come.
Exploring the psychology of financial domination? Listening to graphic details about me and my lovers? Hearing about how a couple transitions from flirting to fucking? All of those were deliciously stimulating for him. And honestly, I got a huge rush of power and pleasure from hearing his breath catch in that way that usually means he's about to climax, but knowing that this time, I could keep on keeping on and just mess with his mind for all it was worth.
When I realized I was getting tired, finally, I dropped the double-bomb on him: would he be willing to pay me extra to masturbate while explicitly explaining to him what I was doing? He never could have done that without a chastity cage; he would have climaxed in five minutes. And the mind-fuck of asking him to pay extra for me to masturbate, knowing that it was included for other calls, was based on my knowledge of his hesitant interest in financial domination.
I made him come up with the dollar amount (which was a fairly vicious trick on my part, if I do say so myself), and then explained every detail of what I was doing and how it felt. It was a slow build, first with my fingers, then with my vibrator (which I called "the cock" to emphasize that he was not fucking me, but that I love being fucked).
When I came, hard, leaving me scrambled and breathless, he sounded like his brain had exploded instead of his balls. "There's just... there's no mistaking that sound, is there?" he finally managed to say, while I laughed at his obvious mind-melting level of frustrated arousal.
Dear Galiana,
Remember how once upon a time, you thought you wouldn't be any good at financial domination, or humiliation, or tease and denial? You were wrong on all accounts. And just think: the world is still full of fun new things for you to learn that you love! All it takes is finding the right partner to do them with. Have fun!
Love, Galiana
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