Hotel Layover

A weather situation in Chicago caused me to miss the last flight of the day home, so although my dear husband offered to make the drive to pick me up, we agreed it would be easier on everyone if I just did the "distressed traveler rate" at the hotel for the evening.

view from the glass elevator

The Hyatt Regency O'Hare felt posh to me, although I couldn't tell if the decor was retro-chic or actually 1970s, because I suck at decorating, but I immediately thought, "I have to do a robot shoot here some day." The combination of ultra-modern silver and chrome with wood-like wall paneling and dark patterned carpet made me want to squeeze into a silver bodysuit with big marked squares on my tummy and stand in the lobby and see who would push my buttons /grin

Since I had taken a couple of late-night appointment calls while I was away (after my sister and niece left, so there were no kids in the house), I had a bit of spending money in my "fun money to blow on impulse purchases" category, so I blew it on room service and hotel porn.

Back in my tech days, I traveled for conferences and meetings. It became a tradition to buy porn in the hotel room, so much so that most of my porn-for-pay experience has been in hotels. The last time I traveled on business was 2009.

My. Things have changed. Woooooow.

What I remember of hotel porn, it was kinda softcore. No direct penetration shots, no cumshots, no anal, very little gay porn. None of those descriptors were true at all anymore. There was a softcore section like I remember, but there was also a section with probably a dozen choices for anal, several for mature, lots of lesbian, lots of gay male, and a generous helping with the word "rough" in the descriptor.

I got the all access package. I figured I'd blog about it. It's a business expense, right? Besides, I was splurging, dammit.

First, I watched my first Asa Akira scene. I've been following her on Twitter because she's funny as hell (her Twitter self-description is "I have an award-winning asshole"), and I knew she won a ton of 2012 AVN awards, but I'd never seen her. The movie was called "Best Sex 2012" with scenes from a few different 2012 award winners, and her scene was first.

DAYUM. She was sitting on the floor, he was standing over her, fucking her face, trapping her, and within a few minutes, he had slapped the shit out of her. By the end of it, she had cum multiple times, he had fucked her twisted up and trapped in more positions than I knew a human body could make, he had smacked her skin red, and she was begging for more with a big, utterly believable grin on her face.

I love Nina Hartley, and her guides to various sex acts, mostly because she's so damn enthusiastic. Have you seen her in an orgy scene when she sees a cock not currently in use? She jumps on it like she's claiming a prize. It's more of a pounce, really. I thought for sure I'd go my whole life and never see anyone on film who could convince me as thoroughly that she genuinely enjoys getting fucked.

Uhhhhh. Sorry Nina. Asa really really really really really likes getting fucked. There goes my porn budget for, like, forever.

So after that scene, which made me appreciate the AVN's taste in porn stars, and honestly entranced me too much to masturbate (although I was very turned on), I browsed through some barely-legal, mature, lesbian, all-anal, and gang bang, skimming through scenes, but didn't see anything that grabbed me. It mostly felt hard and fast to me, with lovely bodies doing interesting things, but without any particular spark.

I saved my favorite category for last, on purpose, figuring gay male porn could push me over the edge and let me sleep. I decided on "tosh.hOle", advertised as "gay parody" (of tosh.0) had an amusing premise, but when Dustin Fitch started sucking Mick Gibson, looking up at him with his pretty, clear blue eyes, my brain scrambled and I found myself hitting the 30-second rewind. Again. And again. And again. Fuuuuuuck. Before I came, I was talking out loud, something I don't usually do when I masturbate, saying something insane like "That's it, pretty baby, suck Mama's big dick just like that." I was seriously completely out of my mind. He just looked so sweet...

When I'm prepared for a hotel stay on my own, I pack a vibrator, or a fat-handled kitchen spoon if I only have a carryon and don't have want a vibrator-related delay going through security, but since I wasn't expecting a hotel stay, I had to improvise:

now *that's* a knife

That's the handle of the butter knife from my room service meal, covered in Galiana goo. I know it's stupid to fuck yourself with a knife of any kind, but I held on to it and I was really careful. Also, there were these boys kissing each other and Asa gets all rigid and silent when she cums and that big black cock looked super yummy and it's totally not my fault!

Who wants to get me my next hotel room?

Kiwi Candy, the Crossover

The Hollywood-gorgeous Kiwi Candy and I were chatting today about callers we've shared in the nine months since she has skyrocketed to NiteFlirt fame. Background: she found my blog when she was first starting out, and at first I mentored her a bit, but we became friends as she kicked my ass in the ratings, and now I ask her advice as often as she does with me.

It's easy to bond in that vulnerable time of night that is made for fucking, that 10pm-2am window when both our defenses are a little lower and our minds are both set in sexy mode. We often keep each other company between calls.

She's as genuine as I am: she really loves phone sex, she really wants to please her callers, and she really is that adorable. But more important to me than her beauty and cuteness, she has the thing I require in my truest of friends: she genuinely cares about doing the right thing. Hell, if you generalize further, it's still true: she genuinely cares. She gives a shit. She's good people. I feel fortunate to know her.

Candy and I have never met in person, although I'm certain we will some day. (You'll get videos of us doing naughty things with each other if you fly me to her! Not kidding!) But we recommend each other a lot on our blogs and on our calls, which has led to us having 15 or 20 callers in common.

So today, we were talking about some of the Candy+Galiana fantasies our callers have played out with us, and we decided to do crossover blog posts about them. Because we're both giant dorks who amuse ourselves a lot. And this sounded fun, so we're doing it.

The Maid: He and I are married, and Candy is our maid, who probably never actually cleans anything other than my pussy with her tongue, while I'm guiding her head with my hands, and he's fucking her from behind. Oh, and my juices off his cock after he fucks me while Candy and I 69 with me on top. But not so much with the *dusting*, really.

Fembot Assembly: The Candy-bot makes a superb to help assemble a brand new Galiana-bot to test her pleasure thresholds. How does one test a new Galiana-bot? Have the Candy-bot lick and finger it when she is being fucked from behind, of course! Gosh. All the good technicians know that.

The Fembot Cat Fight: The handy thing about androids is that you can always wipe their memories and repair them, and they're as good as new! So, y'know, if the Candy-droid and Galiana-droid had their jealousy levels increased, we could rip each other to pieces... literally. It's obvious her chest panel is more delicate than mine, it's not my fault she can't function without this handful of wires. Oh, well, maybe it is. Oops. But what do I care? That'll keep her away from my man!

The Struggling Submissive: Since she admitted she's capable of having an orgasm without touching her pussy if the mental / visual stimulus is strong enough (as am I), he could tie her into an X and make her watch while he fucks me, and she can be released when she comes that way ... maybe twice ... if he's feeling generous ...

The Two-Girl Blowjob: The guy with the 11" cock (seriously, we've both seen him on cam, and he's not exaggerating) wants us both to slide our tongues and lips over him. Good, because I'm not sure either of us could take care of that thing on our own!

The Exhibitionists: Two different callers want to masturbate in front of us, as we're watching them, and possibly playing with each other, but the important part is that we're both watching him masturbate. We both honestly, genuinely love watching men stroke themselves, and we feel like we learn new techniques. We both especially like watching that guy in California with the full beard who does that overhand squeeze thing ...

The Strap-On: He wants to feel her pounding me with a strap-on because it shoves his cock deeper into my throat. Or me pounding him with a strap-on while he has his lips wrapped around her clit. Or one of us fucking him while he's fucking the other one. Or...

Oh good grief almighty, now I can't think straight. Surely someone has plane fare to spare, don't you? Pretty please?

Video: Submissive Slut

I'm pleased to announce my bounciest, ditziest, cutest, perkiest video yet: Submissive Slut Awaiting Master's Visit.

It's a custom video, and the instructions were:

* dress as cute as you can get: pigtails, your glasses, and girly lingerie (check)

* act out the scenario of: you're my submissive slut, and you're telling me how much you're looking forward to my visit this coming weekend (check)

* look sweet and innocent, but talk filthy (check)

* if you can gag on a toy or play with your pussy, all the better (oh hell yeah check)

I was kind of hopped up on caffeine and adrenaline when I shot this. I'd been thinking about sexy things all day and changing into a series of sexy outfits, so I was dying to get off. It was super-easy to let my favorite clit-stimulating pink egg vibrator do its thing while my shoving my favorite cock-substitute red vibrator down my throat.

Ahhhhh, it feels so nice to return to the basics, doesn't it?

Although the runtime is only 5:29, I did manage to have a genuine orgasm on video (and momentarily forgot to keep looking at the camera... some day I'll behave like a pro, I'm sure).

I am in constant motion in this video, never a still moment. Although it is more pronounced in the video than in my usual demeanor, this is absolutely an accurate glimpse into how incredibly damn wiggly I am when I'm turned on.

More than one person with the intention of dominating me in a BDSM way has paused to laugh at me and tell me some variation of, "I'm not sure I can beat you because you look so damn happy." This video captures that side of me exceptionally well.

If you wish to purchase it, it is $10 through NiteFlirt: click the Buy Now button and it'll be on its way to you in a jiffy.


Wow, talk about being the exact opposite side of the coin from my last post, isn't it? Fetish for variety indeed!

Time Limits Vs The Six Hour Phone Call

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

Happy Anniversaries

FIVE YEARS AGO TODAY

... I got married. Happy Fifth Wedding Anniversary!

So tonight, I dressed up for our dinner celebration:

The dress: the only Little Red Dress I've ever owned. Mom bought it for me last year for my birthday, specifically to wear today.

The accessories: chunky jewelry which matched my shoes. Wacky. It's almost like know how to dress myself sometimes.

The makeup: smoky eyes and red lips - to the point of being borderline trashy. My husband likes the raccoon look after... ummm... after the after-dinner-festivities, so I had fun with it.

The dinner: delicious seafood at the place that was the new, hot, hip place in 1985 when it opened (I was in high school then). I hoped it had not gone downhill now that it's a classic, and sure enough, it was still amazing. The blackened mahi topped with crawfish and shrimp and smothered in a cream sauce was just as divine as I was hoping it would be.

The conversation: My husband and I ask each other on anniversaries: What are your favorite memories of the past year? And what would you change if you could? Among our favorite memories were my celebratory 40th birthday photo shoot, and some conversations we've had triggered by phone sex conversations, so thank you, callers for contributing to the best parts of our year!

NINE MONTHS AGO TODAY


... I took my first phone sex call. Happy 3/4 Phone Sex Anniversary!

So what would I change if I could from the past nine months of phone sex?

I would have never tried chat-for-pay without an external system to police the amount of time spent. I would have gotten a good webcam and set up a cam listing earlier. I would have written the mistress / hypno listings to be more of a reflection of who I am rather than trying to reflect how I thought "those types of callers" might want me to be.

And what are my favorite memories of the past nine months of phone sex?

Being discovered by role play aficionados and realizing I loved that. Being discovered by hypnotism fetishists and realizing I loved that. Being discovered by robot fetishists and realizing I loved that. Being discovered on cam by foot fetishists and realizing I loved that.

And it's bizarre to admit it, even to myself, but... being discovered by humiliation and orgasm denial fetishists and slowly slowly slowly slowly realizing I love that, in a way I never would have expected. Shocking. I was sure I was never going to do either of those well, and never going to honestly enjoy them, and yet, here I am, looking forward to a few special denial and humiliation callers as much as I look forward to slow, sensual guided masturbation sessions where the caller gets off on hearing me climax.

I have amazing memories. The connections. The laughter. The tears. The confessions. The questions. The stories.

And, of course, the orgasms. Ohhhhhh, the orgasms. Nine months ago, I usually went a week without sex before I would masturbate, and now, I have to get myself off if I miss a day or two on the phones.

In fact, that may be my favorite thing about the past nine months: I'm even more sexual, and even more confident in my sexuality, than I was when I started.

Thank you, all my callers, and all my Flirt friends, and all my blog readers, for that amazing gift.

Jeepers

I love the creative use of language, and using unexpected words to convey exactly the right tone. I frequently fall back to under-used gems like Nifty! Zoikes! or Swell! for my own amusement.

Yesterday on my last call of the night, in a delightfully winding and conversationally intimate conversation with a self-described Masturbator (but not the Masturbation Superstar I described in an earlier post, who I haven't heard from in much too long...), he said he was having trouble focusing. I asked how I could help him focus, and he drew in his breath, and replied, "Well, jeepers..."

So. Happy. 

Jeepers! I've been looking for you! I've been missing a word lately, and it needed all those soft sounds, to convey feeling a little overwhelmed, but in a good, gentle way. What was coming to mind was "Jesus!" the way it's usually used to proclaim a happy overload, like if your tiramisu melts in your mouth through layers of cake and booze and cream and then holy crap is that cocoa powder dusting on the top oh my gosh I just had a foodgasm. Like that.

The tone of it is right, but I prefer not to use the word Jesus as an exclamation for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is: why would I risk offending someone by a word choice when the world is so full of so many other luscious words with their tasty sounds and rhythms and subtle conveyances?

No, Jeepers is much better. A little humor, a little unexpected, and a touch of a sense of wide-eyed wonder. Perfect.

Thank you, Masturbator. I needed that!

I Love Fucking

I love fucking.

I mean, don't get me wrong, I also love complicated role plays where my mind is just as engaged as my body. And I love spicing up sexual energy with the delicious flavor of power exchange through domination or hypnosis. And yes, absolutely, I love enhancing the hormonal mix of sex by tossing in some adrenaline-boosting pain or struggling.

But I feel like I've talked so much lately about my specializations that I've been neglecting to mention that I simply really. love. fucking.

I love being slammed against a door to close it, before I'm even all the way inside, pinned against it, and finger-fucked to orgasm while I'm holding on to broad, strong shoulders.

I love riding a man slowly, grinding into him, finding all the luscious spots that this particular cock hits inside me.

I love resting my pussy after a mind-shattering orgasm by taking hot, stiff flesh into my mouth and humming with pleasure at the taste of my wetness coating it.

I love luxuriating under exploring hands and mouth from someone taking his time to enjoy each spot and each moan.

I love being fucked from behind against the bathroom counter, facing the mirror, so I can see the animal lust in his face.

I love the scent and feel and taste of a woman's body under my lips and fingertips and strap-on...

Hmmm. Maybe I didn't get enough calls today, which forced me into reading one too many blog stories about gangbangs and hotwives. And maybe watching teaser clips for blowjob videos wasn't the best way to cool down...

A Really Great Call

Just before I left for my holiday travel, I had a super-fun call with someone who likes to guide and tease me as I masturbate.

This particular call, the batteries were out on my normal red vibrator, so I used the pink egg vibrator for insertion, and the purple bumpy one for clitoral stimulation.

I always get wet when I masturbate, but this time it just so happened to form an awesome, easily visible ball of girl-goo on my vibe, so I took a picture.

You can see my discarded panties at the foot of the bed, and the rumpled covers that make it clear I had been thrashing. Boy, had I ever...

And yes, absolutely I cleaned it off. Cum of either gender does not go wasted in this household. Yum.

Dozen Orgasms

I have a wide variety of laughs: giggles, guffaws, belly laughs, snickers, an explosive surprised laugh-bang, and short stifled snorts when I'm trying not to lose the food or drink in my mouth.

When I'm laughing my hardest, I don't make sound or breathe for many seconds, followed by a peculiar high-pitched hissing sound as if air is leaking out of me. The hardest I ever laughed was planning my wedding - I was working long days in a stressful crunch time and not sleeping nearly enough. The final catering menu/invoice for approval said "Shrimp Screwers" instead of "Shrimp Skewers". Could. Not. Recover. My now-husband had to guide me to bed, wiping tears from my eyes, to let me rock myself to sleep with sporadically shaking fits of hysteria.

During my early-30s sexual rampage, I was called a "good squeaky toy" by one lover who liked the variety of noises I make during sex. Gasps, moans, sighs, whimpers, grunts, and that encouraging "mmhmm" hum when a cock in my mouth is getting close to climax.

I've claimed that I probably have a dozen orgasms, but I've never categorized them. Until one Saturday after I became a phone sex operator - also known as today - musing idly between calls, I decided to try. In no order (but numbered for my convenience):

1. Soft External: There's a soft rolling kind that requires gentle, constant stimulation on my clit and inner labia -- ideally from a tongue -- and it feels like warmth spreads all over me and all my muscles pulse gently, then release in a way that leaves me feeling relaxed.
2. Soft External Rolling: When I have a #1 orgasm and the gentle, constant stimulation doesn't stop, and I don't resist climaxing, I can sometimes start having orgasm after orgasm, and they start smooshing together until they blur into this one crazy long thrashing breathtaking rolling orgasm that feels like it will never end.
3. G-spot Fingers: When fingers are rubbing my G-spot, with the same kind of circling, pulsing pressure you'd use to polish a silver spoon, I have muscle spasms all over my body before and during the orgasm. They're a little draining, and either I have to rest for a bit afterward, or they make me ravenous for more, and there's no way to predict which it will be. 
4. G-spot Fingers, Clit Tongue: When I have a #3 orgasm but add in a tongue and lips to stimulate my clit, it's a hard, strong, overpowering orgasm that I can't always control, even if I'm tied up and trying not to come. It feels like a big bang from my tummy that hits all my muscles at once. I almost always need to pause a minute or two after these. And not that playful "oh well then I'll just keep going" kind of request to rest, I mean pause for real or you risk a kick in the face from involuntary spasms.
5. Vibrators: My favorite vibrator combination is one inside me that hits my G-spot, and one external that has a diffused, gentle vibration on my clit. My clit is too sensitive for direct hard, strong vibrations - that just feels uncomfortably painful instead of arousing. (I know, what kind of a lousy pain slut am I? Sheesh) Vibrator orgasms build steadily to a climax that I feel mostly in my legs, with a tingling warmth that makes me want to roll into a ball.
6. Pain Slut: To defend my pain slut honor... If I've been flogged, clamped, pinched, spanked, or a combination of those, the orgasm spreads itself through my whole body, as if it's starting everywhere, instead of starting in my pussy. Usually these involve embarrassingly loud noises and require a bit of a recovery pause after. 
7. Girl On Top: When a man is on his back and I'm riding him and grinding my clit into the base of his cock, I can have these crazy-making sneak-up-on-me orgasms. All of a sudden, I'm past the edge, and I don't know when I got close. And from that moment until I climax, every part of my skin gets exponentially more sensitive to touch and pain, so it is intensified with a well-time smack or pinch or grab. When I'm with a partner I trust, I have been known to spontaneously burst into tears after these orgasms, as if it uncorked a bottle of champagne. Wrapping your arms around me and saying "I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere" is the best way to help me settle back in.
8. Mixing In Anal: Any of the above orgasms are made more intense and guttural and primal with the addition of anal stimulation, whether it be fingers or a butt plug or a vibrator or (in very limited cases with people I trust deeply) a cock. Primal is the best adjective, but I'm not sure I can explain what exactly I mean by that... it just feels deeper and more raw. 
9. Bound and/or Blindfolded: When restraints or restrictions or sensory deprivation are added into the mix, I become more relaxed, oddly enough, and have much more control over my climax. I love feeling myself involuntary strain against cuffs or ropes - that sensation makes all other sensations more like warm liquid pleasure. Orgasms when I'm bound tend to be more deeply satisfying, even if they're not always as loud or as full of thrashing. 
10. While Struggling: I love the physicality of struggling against my partner during sex (with safe words and someone I trust), and the orgasms I have while struggling feel athletic: strong, swift, and full of adrenaline. They make me feel stronger and hungrier, which is bizarrely counter-intuitive.
11. Slow-Build Overstimulated: Regardless of the mixture of stimulation methods, if an orgasm builds over a long time (30 minutes or more) with pauses, interruptions, teases, and direct instructions not to come, I go to a place where my rational brain no longer feels in control, and I'm shaking with lust. When that hunger is finally released, I feel like I'm exploding, like my body and skin are being shattered and scattered. That kind of orgasm can sometimes cause the rare end-of-Galiana ragdoll phenomenon, where I feel limp, impervious to all sensation, and unable to figure out my safe word for a few minutes. Trust required.
12. My Favorite - Missionary: It sounds boring by comparison, I know, but there's something about being under a man, with his whole chest against my whole chest, nuzzling into each others' necks and shoulders, when I'm urging him deeper with my hands and legs and hips, and he's pressing himself completely against me, that grinds into my clit and pussy perfectly. I love feeling trapped when I arch against him, and feeling him respond to my tightening when I come. I've been told sometimes it's a struggle to stay inside me because I clench so hard like that. I feel like my whole body floats and swirls. I love it.

Wow, I do have a dozen orgasms after all... at least. I could probably think of others, but there are vibrators... and a husband... and maybe I can think of better things to do right now... 

Sybian Video & Masturbating Alone

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Masturbation Superstar Awesomeness

I've never laughed that hard after a call ended. You totally win, babe.

Meet the Masturbation Superstar, aka The Avid Masturbator (@AvidMasturbator on Twitter), aka Brad Hamilton (from Fast Times at Ridgemont High). He's one of the wankers from my Sex-Free Phone Sex post, and he loves attention, and he loves being "outed" by the women he calls. I hope he likes details being shared!

Our calls usually follow a pattern: we chat about women he finds sexy while he expertly strokes himself, and when he's close, I tell him who to have an orgasm for. I'm fascinated by his "guilty pleasures", women who are outside the mainstream of young, tight, Hollywood-types, but he finds worthy of his affections anyway.

But this one topped them all: Christine O'Donnell, the crazy lady running for governor of Delaware, spoofed by Saturday Night Live for her "I'm not a witch" campaign commercial, and also for her active campaigning against masturbation.

Wow. She's anti-masturbation. She is exactly not a phone sex operator's best friend.

But as Brad told me that he had developed a new crush on her, I saw how utterly delicious it was. His fantasy was that he wanted Ms O'Donnell to catch him masturbating, start lecturing him on how wrong it was, but find the whole thing so sexy that she couldn't tear herself away, so she was left in slack-jawed awe as he came for her. That he masturbated thinking about her, calling her name, covering his hand with evidence of the avid masturbation she helped inspire... The whole thing left me saying "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

Gentlemen, the gauntlet of Most Awesome Fantasy Ever has been thrown down. Start your engines.

New Caller Sprays Enthusiasm

Tonight's second new caller happened to be the first person ever to call on the listing I recently moved from "Mature" (I'm a legit 40, but didn't get many calls there) to "Oral Sex" (clearly a better fit - it was stupid not to have a listing there). I knelt between his knees and introduced myself to his generous erection with great enthusiasm. He said the following awesome things after he came:

I had really high expectations from reading your listing and your blog, but oh my God, you were so much better than that! 

and

I shot across the room... I'm not even sure where that first one landed...

and

From your listing to your blog to your pictures that I'm 99% sure are real... You are exactly who I hope to find.

and every girl's dream:

I'll be calling back. 

I floated downstairs with happies and told my husband, who laughed and hugged me and said, "Awwww, good job, honey." I've had enthusiastic first callers before, and even other people saying nice things to me today, but something about this particular set of effusive praise hit me right where I guess I needed it today. Yummers.

Since obviously my evening can't get better than that, I'm packin' it up & callin' it a night. I look forward to making others that happy tomorrow!