So I get this email from a MIA client:

To my Glorious and Brilliant Girl

To you …

… my creative Beauty.

… my imaginative Domina.

… my perfectionist-weaver of Glorious Fantasy.

… my adventurous Doppelganger and Partner in Crime.

… my wild Goddess who never met a taboo she didn’t like.

… my generous and patient stiletto-heeled Wonder-Girl.

… my understanding and idolized Phone Sex Illuminato.

This is ♥♥♥♥♥ from ♣♣♣♣ .

Well I used to live in ♣♣♣♣.   You might remember that circumstances dictated I leave the beautiful place I’d called home since forever to move to the Midwest, where I am helping my friends with their start-up Social Media company.  As you can imagine, it took a while to settle in and get things rolling.  But, finally, I feel like things are where they should be.  And boy! Have I missed you!

The good news is we are already out of the red and pulling paychecks. The better news is I have a smartphone.  Guess who I want to call on my sexy, new smartphone?

Yes, you.  Because, I MISSED YOU INSANELY !!!

Now for the nitty-gritty: how do I call you via phone? I was used to the convoluted ways of the web (pay using the site and call you on Skype). So how do I do it on a phone? Do I call NiteFlirt? And then how do I get you? To me there is ONLY ONE Angela, but if I say Angela do they know who I’m referring to? Do you have some kind of a numeric ID that I need to provide? Maybe I say Angela St. Lawrence?

As to our chats:

1. Our first chat needs to be about you and me.  I want to TALK with YOU. Then we can have another chat, or continue the chat.

2. I just want our first chat to be a very long chat.  At least an hour, though I hope you will indulge me with two or three hours of your time.

3. And then we will talk dirty. And I will cum for you, like I cum with no other woman in the world.

4. And I will leave you the review of reviews, telling the universe how special, how perfect, how wonderful you are.

5. And I will tip you and tribute you over and over to make up for all the time we’ve lost with my personal reinvention.

6. And I will call you again and again and again. Forever and ever.

I worship your imagination.  I cherish you for every facet of your personality. I am grateful for what you do to me and for me. And mostly, the way you do it. You play me like a violin. I’m yours and have been since the first time I heard you speak, totally unaware that I’d been doing phone sex all the wrong way with all the wrong girls for a very long time.  Unaware that I was about embark on the adventure of a lifetime with the very definition of perfection. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

I hope you are well and content and happy.

My mind (and my cock and my overflowing balls) ache to talk with you. And maybe it will put a smile on your face to know that I have started looking around at ways of making one of my fantasies come true, in a safe way, but make it come true.

There definitely are possibilities in this area. I’m doing preliminary work right now. But I will get there.

Contact me.  Even one sentence will be sheer delight for me.  I will be watching my email obsessively.

Love love love,

From Me who adores YOU, my Brilliant Mystery Girl.

As I’ve said before, I really don’t pay that much attention to my stats here at Zen Fetish. Some who know me have oft said that there’s a bit of Scarlett O’Hara in me.  And I wouldn’t disagree.  If I’m in the right mood, I might even admit to a WHOLE LOTTA Scarlett.  Hey, it seems to work for me, so why fix what’s not broken.

But sometimes I do get around to checking out the Zen Fetish back office.  I really don’t know why I don’t do it more often, except for the fact that there is a whole lot of stuff on a daily basis vying for my attention.  And — fiddle dee dee! — isn’t observing and analyzing web site data someone else’s job?  Because it certainly isn’t mine.  While I do wear a lot of hats being the Phone Sex  Diva in charge of this rodeo, there are certain things which should ALWAYS be delegated, particularly if there are numbers and/or any kind of statistical analyzing involved. 

So my Curious Georges, wanna see? 

• small dick deep throat
• face slap
• mistress
• fetish phonesex
• cock tease
• mistress sissy
• cuckold types (and your type would be?)
  
• reasons for cock sucking
• Penis Whipping <evil grin>
• kinky phone sex (moi?)
  
• phone sex
• phonesex "angela"
• bdsm quotes for Mistress
• things to say to humiliate a small penis <batting eyelashes>
  
• small dick deepthroat
• humiliation small penis
• domina stern (she’s my buddy)
• phonesex, phone sex, adult chat
• renderings, bdsm
• slapping fetish (► oh my, did I say that?)
• high end phone sex
• sexy chat with girls
• cuckold types
• watch fetish
• deepthroat on small dick
• cuckold story archive
• humiliating hotwife
  
• femdom ageplay
• sneaker porn
• phone sex tips (► because I’m a know-it-all)
• penis punishment
• cock leash mistress (well, you would be more obedient)
• haircut fetish porn
• "fuck my cunt mouth"
• cross dresser for angela (‘cuz I likes ’em)
• porn pocket books
• deep throating small dick
• penis punishment
• Penis slapping and orgasm denial
• face slaps sadomasochism
• small dick humiliation (now would I do that?)
  
• cuckold sad story (Don’t worry, Mister, it’s only a fantasy.)
• phonesex
• teasing handjob
• sneaker porn
• teenage cuckolds
• highendphonesex.com reviews ( … I dunno :-/ )
• erotic blackmail
• cuckold
• phonesex roleplay (check HERE)
• fetish video
• porn punishment
• submissive face slapping
• deep throat little cock
• office sex fantasy
• sexy girl
• "cock-leash conditioning" (of course I ALWAYS train cock)
• phone sex, fetish

When I do bother to look, I see a lot of the same stuff,  some of which I find either mundane ( perhaps I’m jaded?) or predictable, like the phone sex stuff.  Some things make me giggle; remember Cock-Sucking Love Bugs?  (Which, by the way,  still makes an appearance every once in a while.)  Some things confuse me. 

Such as …

Did you happen to notice the green text?  Huh?  What?  That phrase, deep throat small dick, which is frequently showing up (as you can see) in various constructs, just doesn’t make sense to me.  How does one deep throat an undersized penis?  How is that humanly possible?  Is it wishful thinking on the part of a secret society of er, um "under-endowed" gentlemen who’ve banded together in search of the girl whose tonsils they can tickle?  That sounds like a reasonable explanation, doesn’t it? Because little penises rarely get sucked, let alone have the opportunity — not to mention ability — to deep dive into a willing mouth.  I mean, after all, why would she?

Or …

Maybe it’s the same guy?   Day after, night after night … searching, searching, searching.  Tucking his sad little member between his thighs as he huddles over his keyboard and types away, jumping from Search Engine to Search Engine, scanning forums and chat rooms, continuously rearranging his verbiage.  She must be out there.  I just have to keep looking.  Somewhere there is a woman who can swallow my teenie weenie. Oh where, oh where is the midget girl with the thimble throat?

  😉

xo, Angela

Angela:

Here’s a birthday poem for my FAVORITE PSO.

Pervert Q. Savant

Literate Smut

I’m a normal old guy, you can just call me Tex
I live just outside Dallas, you can check all my specs!
Well, I saw this here ad about “Literate Sex.”

         And I thought, “What the hell, I’ll just pay my respects!”

The website said Angela was the lady’s first name
And the brainiest phone sex was her claim to fame
My dear wife was off at her weekly bridge game

    So I bought me five minutes (I’ve no sense of shame!)

I dialed up the number (It’s in the public domain!)
And advised Miss St. Lawrence about what pulled my chain
“I like dirty words. Thank you!! But no whips or pain!

         “Said she: “I knew it immediately. You’re an erotomane!”

I scratched at my head. It was a new word for me
It wasn’t there anywhere in my vocabulary.
Said I, “Are you giving me the third degree?”

         “Said she: “I screen all members of the bourgeoisie.”

That was another word that just didn’t engage
It made me uneasy about my genital stage
I wasn’t sure Angela was on my same page

    Said she, “I suspect that you might be a strange coprophage!”

I have to say now, that word took me aback
I’d never heard it before. But I cut her no slack. 
“Hell no!” I exclaimed.  “Don’t have a panic attack!”

    “Said she, “I may have to punish your petite scrotal sac.”

That was another term that just wasn’t my style!
It passed over my brain by a good nautical mile.
Said I, “If you’re a young babe we can talk for a while.”

    Said she: “Aha! So it seems you’re no gerontophile!”

Hearing these new words, they set me affright
Perhaps she was thinking I was no bright light
Said I:  “Let’s get to it! What’s in store for tonight?”

    Said she: “I was thinking of a hermaphrodite.”

Said I: “Let’s just you and I do it in the ‘missionary’!”
(See, “hermaphrodite” wasn’t in my dictionary)
“And don’t pair me up with no simperin’ fairy!”

    Said she:  “A succubus I know might like your cherry!”

“Sucking!” said I.  Yes!  That rings my bell!”
And I felt my member commencing to swell
My heart started pumping like an artesian well

    Said she: “Do you prefer a Monsieur or a Mademoiselle?”

But before I could answer she spun out a tale
About a big black something the size of a whale
That shot up my asshole like a Galveston gale

    Said she: “Succubi like to inhabit a male!”

Bucking and snorting, it left me with piles
It felt like my anus had been rubbed with steel files
When my five minutes ended, I was tired of her wiles

    Said she: “Don’t call me again!  I prefer bibliophiles!”

____________________________

Thanks, PQS!  And thanks to all the rest of  my sweet You Know Whos for the presents and emails.

xo, Angela

Dearest Miss Angela:

I saw you online today in the early afternoon hours and by the time I grabbed my credit card and other necessary accoutrements, you were busy and then after an hour or some, away.

I kept checking the whole afternoon and into the later hours to no avail.  Craving a connection with you (however fleeting — I was desperate for you, beloved Mistress) I started reading your entries and stories and clicking on the links on your pages, and I ended up in  Secrets in Lace

How did I — pervert, pornography lover, pleasure addict — not know of this site?  I couldn’t help myself, and began to masturbate so furiously and insanely that I came all over my pants and onto the floor.  Even this did not sate my desire for you, but still you were not availabe.  And so I ripped off my pants.  And even being  on the wrong side of 40, I immediately started masturbating again, groaning with absolutely no control over my senses. I came again, raw and wet and sticky, panting, covered in sweat, my arm cramped, my cock shriveled up, blue and pink happy.  And the first thing I thought was: I wish I could speak with Angela; I wish I could go again.

Secrets in Lace is the most amazing site ever, and I would never have found it if not for you.  I think I’m going to buy their stuff just so that I can touch it. For a lingerie and vintage fetishist like me, this is where and when every nerve ending in my body and every sense is enveloped in a feeling of completeness, of perfection, of pure joy. All senses overwhelmed, dazzled by the shine of pantyhose, the tight and soft texture of garter belts, the sound of my fingers sliding on a camisole, the taste of a nipple getting harder and darker behind a demi-cup bra, the smell of a woman’s flower getting wetter and opening itself for me under an open-bottom girdle.  Even now, thinking about these things, I find myself once again aroused.

I am begging you to find time for me tomorrow because I do need you so very much.  The reason?  I want to take one of the fantasies you’ve been gently urging me to explore a step further.  I don’t know where it will take me, and I don’t know if I have the courage to go there.   Only with your guidance and reassurance do I dare breach that door.  Strange – every woman I’ve ever had sex with has told me at one time or another that I’m the most uninhibited guy they ever met.  Would they appreciate the irony of my needing you to force my boundaries?

I’ve often told you that even I am amazed that I’ve shared so much with you.  I’ve expressed desires and hungers with you that I’ve never shared with with any woman, be she someone I have a real-time sexual relationship with or a Phone Sex Operator/Fantasy Girl.  The truth is that any other phone-fantasy girl pales and wilts in comparison to you.  Yet I have been frozen for weeks in this place, facing the door I dare not open.

But here I am and I understand that I will have to make a major leap of faith in myself, and go forward just trusting you.  I want to open that door, and see what that room is like.  There is absolutely no one whose instincts I trust as much as I trust yours. Although my heart is palpitating with fear, I know that with both your decisive skill and superior intellect I will be in the best of hands.  And so I am reaching out to you, waiting for you to take my hand.  Waiting for you to let loose your transcendent imagination and walk me into that room.  That room that holds both my desires and fears.  Desires you’ve patiently nurtured until now they loom across my sexual psyche and can no longer be ignored. 

Desires you’ve created in a room you’ve created for this man you’ve created.  And I adore you for it.

Telling you that you are the finest and the best is just proof of the limitations of language. There aren’t words for you.  Perfect? Not enough. Deliciously and wickedly delightful?  Not even close.  A spinning Dervish of sexual imagination and willingness to explore?  Close, but still not quite there.

You are YOU.  There is no other.

Thank you, Mr. N