Phone Sex Goddess is a Real Killer

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Man calling for phone sex makes the phone call of his life.
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Ring, ring......

"Good afternoon and welcome to my inner sanctum where the anonymous meet for sexy fun over the phone. I'm Yvonne," answered Mary, the woman on the other end of the phone with a sexy, female voice.

"Hi Yvonne," said the caller breathing heavily as if he was making an obscene call instead of wanting to have phone sex.

Yvonne was ready to hang up the phone is this guy was a weirdo. She gets a lot of weirdoes in her line of business as a phone sex operator.

"What's your name?"

Another heavy breather, with the image of Danny DeVito on her mind and on the other side of the phone, Mary picture a short, fat, bald man, someone who wasn't able to get a real girlfriend. No doubt, he was like any one of the men who have groped her on the elevator, in the subway, and/or accosted her on the street by flashing her is cock. Choosing to walk around the block instead, already, he sounded like a man that she's never enter an alleyway if she saw him standing here.

"Harry," said Jerry, his real name, the caller on the other end of the line.

Harry pictured a beautiful blonde woman with big tits and an even bigger sexual appetite.

"Hi Harry," said Mary as Yvonne in her sexiest, honey toned voice dripping with sex and promising a dialogue filled with flirty, teasing, and sexual innuendos.

"Sorry to be so personal so soon, but I need to know," he said.

"Yes? What would you like to know Harry?"

"How old are you? You sound so young," he said. "I really don't want to be talking to you if you're under 18-years-old. I may be a lot of things but I'm not a pedophile. I probably have grandchildren your age," he said.

Having gotten that reaction all of her life, everyone told her that she sounded younger when talking on the phone. A few people told her that she'd be perfect for phone sex. She had that naturally sexy voice. If only he knew how old she really was, he'd probably hang up the phone.

"I'm old enough to know better," she said with a sexy laugh. "I'm thirty-six-years-old. With my age admitted to, how old are you?"

"Definitely, I'm old enough to know better too. I'm sixty-seven-years-old," he said.

"Good," she said. "I like older men," she said pausing, "Daddy. Who would you like me to be? I can be whomever you want me to be? Tell me and don't be shy, there are no judgments here. You're free to live out your sexual fantasy. Now, who would you like me to be? Your mother? Your sister? Your aunt? Or the woman who sexually excites you and lives next door?"

"I'd prefer you to be yourself," he said."

"Okay, I can do that. I'll be myself. I'll be Yvonne," said Mary.

Not wasting any time with formalities, as if he was sitting in the back of a cab, with every minute ticking by translating to more money for this sexy ride, Harry asked her his most important question.

"What are you wearing?"

As if pressured by a not so subtle push and launched into the immediate purpose of the phone call, Mary paused in her answer. Taking her time, she wanted to keep Harry on the phone longer, as long as she could. The longer he stayed on the line, the more money she made. With the Internet killing the phone sex business with everyone online Skyping phone sex calls were few and far in between.

"Maybe I'm not wearing anything at all Harry," she said with a sexy laugh. "Maybe I'm naked," she said. "Is that what you'd like me to be? Naked? Would you like me to be naked while talking to you on the phone Harry?

Harry was breathing heavily enough to make Mary wonder if he had a medical condition. Maybe he was already sexually excited. Maybe he was just horny. Maybe with the talk of her being naked, she was making him hot already. Hoping he didn't prematurely end the call by having a premature ejaculation, with business being slow lately, she needed to keep him on the phone for more than just a couple of minutes.

"Actually, I'd prefer you to be wearing clothes, hopefully a sexy nightgown," he said. "I like sexy nightgowns. Something that's sheer and low cut enough to show your tits. I like tits. Tits are my favorite parts of a woman's body," he confessed.

Taking the time to think of what to say next, she paused in her answer. She had a live one here and she didn't want to rush the call.

"Yes, Harry, a sexy nightgown works for me too. It's as if you can see me," she said adjusting the collar of her sweatshirt. "Can you see me? Do you have a camera hooked up to your phone? How did you know that I was wearing a sheer, sexy, low cut nightgown?"

"Just a wild guess," he said with a giggle.

Seemingly pleased with himself that he believed that he guessed she was wearing a sexy nightgown in the middle of the day when instead she was wearing a sweatshirt and jeans. Not ready for bed, she was ready for work as a phone sex operator and was fully dressed.

"Shall I describe to you exactly what I'm wearing?"

Yvonne called upon her active imagination to color her lurid description. Hoping to keep him on the phone longer by setting Harry's thoughts ablaze with sex, she needed to make him interested in her for him to want to talk to her longer.

"Yes, please do," said Harry.

A positive sign, one that told her that he'd be on the phone for the long haul, the noise of his zipper was loud enough for even Yvonne to hear over the phone. Earning her living by talking to perversely perverted, and horny, albeit lonely men, she knew that he'd be masturbating to whatever she told him she was wearing. Putting more thought behind what she was going to say, she wanted to tease him without overly exciting him too soon.

"Well," she said. "I'm wearing—"

"Ow," he said.

"Harry? What's wrong?"

"I just caught my pubic hair in my zipper. Boy that hurt," he said.

"Maybe it's time for a trim," laughed Yvonne while using the excuse of him catching himself in his zipper to talk about something else other than sex, anything else other than sex. "Are you very hairy Harry?"

"I am except for my head. I'm bald," he said. "My arms, my legs, my back, and my chest, especially my chest, are all very hairy. My nickname is Chia pet," he said with a loud laugh.

With a Chia pet not a good image for her to have of him, allowing him the extra time it took for him to laugh, she laughed with him to make her time with him last a little longer. Tick, tick, tick, every second she kept him on the phone put more dollars in her pocket. If he was willing to take up nearly 30 seconds of his time laughing, she had no problem with that. Better that she laughs with him than having to talk sex to these disgusting degenerates. Yet, with her alone after being widowed, she made a buck anyway she could, even giving phone sex to perverts.

"Bald is sexy," she said. "I love rubbing a bald man's head over my naked breasts. If I were there with you now Harry, would you let me rub your head all over my big, naked tits? Would you like that?"

She watched her muted TV while waiting for him to respond. In talking about rubbing his bald head over her naked tits, even she was beginning to get horny. With her husband so sick for so long, before he died, it's been a long time since she's been intimate with a man. Moreover, with her married to the same man for more than 40 years, he was the only man she's ever been with.

"Yes, I would Yvonne. I'd love to rub my bald head over your naked breasts while feeling your tits and fingering your nipples? I love fingering a woman's nipples."

"Hmm, oh yeah baby, I'd like that too. I like having my tits fondled and my nipples fingered while kissing. Do you like to kiss Harry?"

"Yes, I like kissing, so long as I can feel a woman's breasts while kissing her," he said. "Whether through her clothes or her naked breasts, I love feeling her breasts while kissing her."

So far so good. Actually, he wasn't so bad. She's conversed with a lot worse than him.

"Me too," she said. I love kissing while a man feels my tits through my clothes. Then, when my nipples make their impression through my bra and blouse, I love it when a man slowly runs his index finger over my nipples to coax them out more. Then, when he takes my nipples between his thumb and index finger and forces them out more, that makes me so hot," she said silently yawning while rolling her eyes.

Already on the phone with him for ten minutes, she'd be making a few extra dollars to supplement her Social Security for her to buy the food she needs at Wal-Mart while giving him phone sex today. If only her friends and neighbors knew that she gave deviant men phone sex, she wondered what they'd say. She wondered what they'd think.

"Yes, of course. I love kissing and I love feeling a woman's breasts through her blouse and bra," he said pausing as if waiting for her to respond. When she didn't, he spoke. "Tell me. Speaking of tits, I'm curious to know. What size tits do you have? What bra cup size."

Always a tricky question, she's learned not to give direct answers but to fish for his preferences. Hopefully, he'll tell her what size breasts he prefers so that she can tell him that she coincidentally has the same size.

"What size breasts do you prefer?"

"I prefer a C cup. That size is not too big and not too small. To me C cup breasts are perfect. Yeah, a C cup is just right," he said. "I prefer breasts that don't sag too much. I prefer breasts that have cleavage like Loni Anderson cleavage. Do you remember her? Definitely, a C cup breast is my favorite size woman's breasts."

"Well, you're in luck Harry because I'm a C cup, a 36C, just like Marilyn Monroe," said Mary running her hand over her A cup breasts while fingering her nipples. She put a hand beneath her sweatshirt and beneath her bra to feel her small breasts while fingering her nipples.

"Wow, just like Marilyn Monroe," said Harry.

"I've been a C cup since I developed breasts," she said. "Of course I remember Loni Anderson," she said when she didn't have a clue who Loni Anderson was. "I've been told that I have breasts just like Loni Anderson."

"No kidding. Wow! What are the odds that I'd get a woman on the phone who has breasts just like Loni Anderson. Most people don't even know who she is but she was married to Burt Reynolds after she was on that TV situation comedy, WKRP Cincinnati. I loved that show. I loved watching her sashaying around the office."

"That was my favorite TV show too," she said even though she never watched it. With her nose always in a book, Mary would rather read than watch TV.

"Wow! So, if you have tits like Loni Anderson's, you must have cleavage like her cleavage too," he said excitedly.

"I do. I have a long line of cleavage," she said raising her sweatshirt and bra to look at her sad, prune like breasts that possessed no cleavage at all.

"This is so exciting for me to be talking to a woman who has tits like Loni Anderson. I like women who have big nipples too," he said. "If I'm not being too personal, tell me, do you have big nipples Yvonne?

"No, you're not being too personal at all. As matter of fact I do have big nipples, Harry. I have the kind of nipples that after you sucked them, they make a sound like a cork being pulled from a champagne bottle when you pull them from your mouth. I swear, it's as if you can see me right through this phone for you to already know so very much about me."

"I only wish I could see you through the phone," said Harry. "Then, I could watch you sitting there in your sexy nightgown. Do you have Skype?"

"I don't have a computer and even if I did, I'm not allowed to talk to you over the computer or to meet you," she said.

"Oh," he said. "Of course. That makes sense."

"You know Harry, speaking of hair, being that we were talking about hair before we got sidetrack to talking about tits and nipples, I'll never understand why some women don't like men hairy men," he said.

"Born with a lot of hair, there's nothing I can do about having hair," he said with a little laugh.

"Being that you have so much hair all over your naked body, maybe I should call you hairy instead of Harry or hairy Harry," she said with a laugh.

"That's funny," said Harry.

"How would you like that my little Chia pet? How would you like for me to call you hairy Harry?" She laughed knowing that her laugh would make him laugh and it did. Easing some of the tension in talking to a man like Harry, she'd rather be laughing than talking dirty. "Would you like that? Would you like for me to call you hairy Harry?"

"So long as you continue to talk to me, I'd like for you to call me anything Yvonne," he said.

"Being that I'm a phone sex operator, I feel the same way about you. I'd like you to call me anything, so long as you called me," she said with a sexy laugh.

"Now that I know who you are, the next time I call, I'll make sure to ask for you," said Harry.

"Thank you Harry. I'd like that," said Yvonne.

"Me more than you, I dare say," said Harry with a nervous, little laugh.

"Getting back to hair, hair is such a turn on for me," said Yvonne. "Curling it with my fingers and feeling it between my toes even, I love the feel of a man's chest hair. I love exploring the rest of my man's body to see and to feel all of his hair everywhere, if you know what I mean," she said with a dirty laugh. Unbuttoning and unzipping her jeans, she stuck her sexually aroused hand down inside of her panties.

"I'd like that," he said. "I'd like for you to explore my hairy, naked body.

"Actually, not to be too forward too soon, and I hope you won't think that I'm a slut," she said pausing while waiting for him to tell her that he didn't think she was a slut.

"A slut? You? Heavens no. No, I'd never think you were a slut Yvonne. Go ahead. Finish what you were about to say," said Harry acting the gentleman that he's not.

"This may sound odd to you being that you're a man but..." she said purposely pausing her response.

"Yes. What? Tell me Yvonne what may sound odd to me being that I'm a man," he said.

"Don't laugh," she said prolonging the conversation.

"I won't laugh. I promise," said Harry.

"I like a man's pubic hair tickling my nose while I'm sucking his cock. I fancy that," she said fingering her pussy while imagining sucking his cock.

"Oh, my God, Yvonne. I'd love to tickle your fancy, if you know what I mean," he said with a dirty laugh. "I'd love for my pubic hair to tickle your nose while you sucked my cock," said Harry pausing, no doubt, to digest all that was just said. "Tell me Yvonne and you don't have to answer if I'm being too personal but have you sucked a lot of cocks?"

"I've sucked my fair share," she said teasing him when the only cock she ever sucked was her husband's cock.

Now that he was dead and buried, she wished she had given him his sexual fantasy by allowing him to cum in her mouth instead of only on her tits. Only, she couldn't imagine him shooting his spunk in her mouth. She's be sick if he did.

"Tell me if I'm being too aggressive and/or saying something inappropriate but," he paused. He was breathing heavy again while shaking the phone in his horny hand. Obviously, he was masturbating over what he was about to ask her. "Do you allow men to cum in your mouth or just on your tits?"

"Oh, Harry, you naughty man," she said with a laugh. "It's not really a blowjob if they don't cum in my mouth Harry," she said putting enough sexual meaning behind her words in the way that she enunciated blowjob and prolonged the pronunciation of cum for him to believe that she really was a skilled cocksucker.

"Tell me this then. I'm curious to know," he said.

"Yes, you may ask me whatever you want. I'm your woman for the time we are talking on the phone," she said no doubt making him feel that they had more of a relationship, a special relationship.

"Do you swallow or do you spit after a man ejaculates his seed in your mouth?"

"I swallow. Of course I swallow," said Yvonne. "As I said before, not only wouldn't it be a blowjob if a man didn't cum in my mouth but also it wouldn't be much of a blowjob if I didn't swallow his warm, oozy load of cum."

In the way she slowed her speech to enunciate her words, she could tell by his breathing and by the phone shaking that he was masturbating to all that she said. She was sad to think that her life has come to this. A sixty-three- year-old woman pretending she's younger and sexually promiscuous enough to give a lonely, perverted, old man phone sex. What happened to her life? She thought she'd be living the good life once her husband retired but he died. She never expected him to die so soon. Now with her children grown and living their lives out of state, she's alone but for her phone and her phone sex customers.

"Wow," said Harry stroking himself, no doubt to the vision of her blowing him, him cumming in her mouth, and her swallowing.

"Do you have a lot of chest hair Harry?"

"Chest hair? Sorry, it's difficult from me to make the transition from the thoughts of you sucking my cock, me cumming in your mouth, you swallowing me, to talking about chest hair," he said with a laugh.

"Well stay with me Harry. We've already digressed. We're talking about chest hair now," she said with a laugh. "Being that I'm a Gemini, I've been known to go from subject to subject without pausing to insert a transition."

"Yeah, I've got a lot of chest hair and the rest of my body is covered with lots of hair too," he said. "Tell me more about what you're wearing? What color nightgown are you wearing? Is it short? Low cut? Is it sheer enough to see through?"

"My, my Harry, you're a little impatient. You can't wait to get me naked to explore my body. I guess time is money," she said with a giggle. "I thought we might get to know a little more about one another before we start getting too sexy, but here we go. I'm wearing a short, blue, sheer, nearly see through negligee with a white ribbon that ties just underneath my large breasts. Do you want more?"

"God, yes, I'm stroking myself now while thinking of you wearing your short, blue, sexy, see through negligee, so keep going and don't leave out any details."

"Under my negligee is a pair of matching baby doll, bikini panties that has a white ribbon bow just above my pussy," she said rubbing her clit while fingering herself.

"Oh, my God, Yvonne. I hope you don't walk around like that without wearing a robe? Everyone can see your nearly naked body. Unless you're an exhibitionist and don't care who sees your nearly, naked body."

"Yes, actually, I am a bit of an exhibitionist. Truth be told, I'm a bit of a slut. I like showing my body off to men," said Mary, a part-time school librarian.

"Tell me this then," he said.

"What? What would you like me to tell you?" She inserted her words to not only compliment his but also to prolong the conversation. "What would you like to know?"

"Do you answer the door in your sexy nightgown with your tits and nipples showing through your sexy nightgown?"

"I do. I forgot to tell you that you can not only see through my nightie but also you can see through my panties too because they're made of the sheerest material. I'm sure that every man who has come to my door has not only seen my nipples but also my pubic hair. I also have on thigh-high stockings that match my nightgown and bikini panties with ribbons at the top of my thighs."

"Oh, my, you naughty, dirty girl allowing men to see you in your sheer nightgown," he said concentrating more on her exposing herself to other men than he was on her thigh-high stockings.

"As if I'm Angie Dickinson of old, would you like me to peel my stockings slowing down my legs? If I bend over to do that, you'll get a great view of my C cup breasts and will probably see my pink areoles and nipples. If you're standing behind me, you'll see my panty clad ass and pussy," she said.

"Wow," he said.

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