Friday, April 30, 2010
Yesterday I taught all day as usual. Horny high school boys abound. There's a new batch every year. Thank goodness. But every day, it's the same story: Look, but don't touch. That is if I want to keep my job. And I do. So by the time I log on for my shift as a phonesex operator, I'm ready to rock.
I don't just pretend to have sex with the guys who call. On some level, we really do connect. And all that pent up passion I've been feeling for those high school boys is vented on the lucky fellow who calls me.
A few nights ago a guy called and told me he was going to jack off. That sounded good to me. I pretty much figure that's the point.
"I want you to watch me," he said.
So I said, "Okay, but you'll have to take off your jeans first."
He said, "Uh, okay." He unzipped them and started to slide them down.
"Hey," I said, "Are those boxers?"
"Uh," he said, and I heard him swallow--it was almost a gulp, "yes."
I noticed the boxers were two sorts of cream color, with wide stripes. But I didn't say anything. Maybe when he said he wanted me to watch it was just, you know, a figure of speech.
He did have a lovely cock.
Best,
Diane
PS You can call me too. I'd love to hear from you.
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