Okay, so we’re almost done with this damnable long Labor Day weekend. A weekend that means absolutley nothing to me. Predictably, JewBoy is furious that I preferred to stay home working to his company. In other words:Talking Dirty with Deviant Intellectuals, Sissy Bois and my heterogeneous assortment of perverse and fair-haired super heroes. How could I? Why would I? Honestly, I just really don’t like picnics all that much. And, really fellas & readers …. you kinda-sorta should know that already. 

I went into the weekend not expecting to get a lot of calls, because most nine to fivers consider this the blowout of the year, what with their three-day weekend and all. But it has been fairly steady with my regulars, and the few die-hards and like-minded who are out and about looking for mischief. After all, "mischief" is my middle name. *wink* Elsewise, I’ve been luxuriating in the snail’s pace and quiet downtime the choice to stay home has afforded me. ahhhh. I mean, after all, one can never get enough reading under one’s belt, nor take too many bubble baths.

So if you’ve been ditching the potato salad and badminton this weekend for a walk ( or if you’re submissively inclined — a crawl) on the wild side, have I got a Phone Sex Girl a few CHOICE Phone Sex Girls for you. 

In their own words …

Strong Mistress

I was born to dominate and overpower weak boys and turn them into feminine whore sluts. I want to turn you into a FUCKWHORE that we both can be proud of, using ALL my experience as a GODDESS in your transformation! I WILL DO THAT, and MORE. I will dress you up, teach you feminine ways, and eventually, when I decide you are ready, WHORE you out. I can be a sensual MISTRESS, or a Strict, Strong and completely Controlling DOMME. This depends on my mood, your obedience, and how respectful you can be to ME.

Visit Strong Mistress at NiteFlirt 

Or CALL DIRECT:  1-800-863-5478 EXT. 06-97-813

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Smart Fun Galiana

Curvy, Fun, Creative, and a little Geeky!  No bubble-headed bleached blonde here!  I’m happy to share my SAT scores, my IQ score and where I went to college.  You WON"t be disappointed!  I love sex and everything about it.  How it feels, how it tastes, how it smells, the emotions it causes, and that sweet blissed-out calm when everybody has had enough.  I wanna play with you, please you, give you what you want, and let you hear my big grin as we have fun together.  Come play with me!

Visit Smart Fun Galiana at NiteFlirt

Or CALL DIRECT:  1-800-863-5478 EXT. 94-63-253 

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Hypnotic Domme

Esoteric, erotic hypnosis.  Whether you seek the elusive floating escape that lies in deep hypnotic trance or a radical revamping of your behaviors, my irresistible voice will be your guide.  What I offer is REAL.  It is not rushed or faked.  I promise a cut above the usual — no more downward escalators.  I was once a hard-nosed skeptic myself, and I understand those who need a little more from inductions perfectly.  Try — and see.

Visit Hypnotic Domme at NiteFlirt 

Or CALL DIRECT:  1-800-863-5478 EXT. 02-97-029-9

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Luscious Lyndee

Looking for a naughty girl that will stimulate your mind as well as your cock? Go no further, I have a very active and creative imagination; guaranteed to make you spew like the Fountain of Youth.  Everything your wife or girlfriend isn’t, that’s me!  You never imagined that a phone sex experience could be so satisfying!  Bring to me your hidden fantasies, most outrageous role plays, extreme fetishes …  let me take you to new heights in phone sex!

Visit Luscious Lyndee at NiteFlirt 

Or CALL DIRECT:  1-800-863-5478 EXT. 05-36-731

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Arielle and You

One call and you will realize that you and I belong together. I will be the best friend and girlfriend you’ve always wanted yet knew deep down, you didn’t deserve. I am beautiful, sexy, and fun. You will love getting to know me.  Evenings, as you try to live your life, meet your obligations, you will find yourself distracted, your mind inevitably turning to me.  "Arielle, my beautiful Arielle. If only she didn’t have those perfect Breasts, those seductive green eyes, and the Ass of a Goddess."   I do, though, don’t I?

Visit  Arielle and You at NiteFlirt 

Or CALL DIRECT:  1-800-863-5478 EXT. 03-05-103-5

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So …

If you haven’t already  picked up the phone to call one of these Internet Divas, do yourself a favor and take the time to check out the linkage I’ve provided.  I really want you to do this, because I’m absolutely certain you will instantly recognize that these women truly are PHONE SEX GOLD.   Each one of these woman, in her own unique and inspired way, offers a high-shelf experience that will seduce and intoxicate you.  And then she will have her way with you.  

And …

Just in case you don’t believe me.  I have it on the highest authority — my very own savvy phone sex clientele — that each of these girls rock the world of Erotic Conversation.  My callers are demanding and discerning:  they want the best.  Trust them, trust me. 

Then …

Strap on your seat belt.  Or wiggle into your panties.  Or insert your butt plug.  Or put on your cock ring.  Or just do the old fashioned thing and get butt nekkid.  ‘Cuz  between you and me?  And them?  You’re in for one very hot time.

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

… or else.

I dunno.  I guess the problem is that when I don’t know you and you don’t know me and it is the first time we’ve spoken … 

… well, it’s creepy.  It’s smarmy-creepy when "Hey, baby" are the first words out of your mouth.  Did you even take the time to find out my name?  Check out my Free Phone Sex Stories or this Free Phone Sex blog?  Or scan my various Phone Sex listings at NiteFlirt such as Prick Tease or Literate Smut or Macho Sissy?  I’m absolutely certain that the answer is a big, fat resounding ENNN OHH. 

Because here’s what happened (and I’m always right about these things, so don’t even attempt a protest):  You found yourself  with your dick in your hand.  Your dick wanted a P U S S Y.  Not a woman, not Angela St. Lawrence or even a girl by any other name.  You just wanted a PUSSY. 

(Which begs the question:  Would a pussy by any other name still smell as sweet?) 

Regardless, we both know that you and your selfish prick could care less if you were talking to Angela, Mindy or Theresa.  You didn’t know my name, because you didn’t care who I was as long as I possessed a vagina.  In other words, in this particular instance (‘cuz certainly you don’t operate this way in your everyday life; say it isn’t so, dear man), you were actually using "baby" as a pronoun.  

And not a pronoun as in "you."  I wasn’t me to you.  I was an it.  Calling me baby was the equivalent  to calling me IT.  So guess what?

Baby = It = Pussy = No Phone Sex for You from Me

Yanno … You really should be more of a savvy shopper when it comes to calling a Phone Sex Operator, because there are many men who are so talented at changing there voices that they actually take calls — usually from the stOOpid (that would be you) boys — in their girly-girl voices and collect your cash by the minute while you jerk.  Yes, they are  low-life posers too lazy or dumb to get a real job.  But guess who their target market is?  Y. O. U.  Because they know they can get away with it.  I have to admit that there’s a sweet poetic irony in that for me. 

And yes, you pissed me off and that is why I ever-so-abruptly hung up on you.  Call me cranky, call me a bitch, call me too demanding.  I don’t care.   FYI, you’ve also been permanently blocked so I never have to hear your slimy voice again.  

So to HDB, jellyfish, Pervert Savant, Mr. Smith, et al:  Okay, so I wasn’t on my best behavior today.  Not so charming, not so sweet, not so tolerant.  But, as you fellows and most of my readers and/or callers know, I’ve recently moved.  It’s been hectic and stressful and energy-depleting.  A girl can only take so much, dontcha know? 

And, really now …  is it so wrong to expect at least a sentient being on the other end of the phone when I pick up?   Should I or any girl be subjected to the guttural demands (because with that intro, you know they were coming) of loutish clochards operating on three brain cells at best?

Tell me I am wrong, and I’ll try to do better the next time.  Honest Injun. *fingers crossed*

In the meantime …

Well, men really can be damnably dumb at times.  From my sister:

Three mischievous old Grannies were sitting on a bench outside a nursing home when an Old Grandpa walked by. Grandma One yelled out, "We bet we can tell exactly how old you are."

The old man stopped and shook his finger at the Grandmas. "What are you? Crazy? There is no way you can guess my age, you old fools."

Grandma Two answered back, "We’re not crazy and we can prove it. Just drop your pants and under shorts and we will tell you your exact age."

Embarrassed just a little, but eager to prove the old women wrong, the Old Grandpa he dropped his drawers.  Grandma Three asked him to first turn around a couple of times and to jump up and down several times.   Determined to teach the old women a lesson, the old man threw common sense to the wind and began whirling and jumping as the old women screeched and howled until tears were running down their cheeks. 

"I don’t know what you old bats are laughing at," said the Old Grandpa, stopping to catch his breath, "you still don’t know how old I am."

Then all three Grandmas all piped up and said, "You’re 87 years old."

Standing with his pants down around his ankles, the old gent asked, "How in the world did you guess?"

Slapping their knees and grinning from ear to ear, the three old ladies called out in unison…

"We were at your birthday party yesterday!"

BTW … been super busy with this move.  Unpacking, shopping, decorating, etc.  I will be blogging and taking calls most days, now that things are starting to come together.  We’ve got some dirty stuff, some interesting news and a whole bunch of mischief waiting just around the corner.  So stick around, get comfortable, loosen your tie or drop your drawers or pop some popcorn.  Hopefully it will be a very bumpy ride.

with much affection, Angela

(photo credit: The Pirata)

What?  Did you think Phone Sex Goddesses don’t get emails?  I’m here to tell you that we not only get emails, we get fuckin’ awesome emails.  Well, at least I know I do. 

That said, anybody who sends me email knows that it’s rare you get a response.  Because, although I read each and every one (oh, yes I do!)  —  I’m a very busy girl.  Really, really.  And if I took the time to answer every email with the "proper" attention it deserved, well, I’d never get anything else done.  As in anything else like Erotic Chatting about Dirty Things over the phone.  As in Phone Sex. 

And I do keep them, each and every one. From my SECRET file  ….

It’s always nice to be thought of:

Hey- 
 
I was out with friends, one of them being a therapist; and I thought to myself,  "I know someone who provides therapeutic value using nothing but her wits and voice." 

And then when walking in the woods, this little bit of poesy came into my head and I thought you would appreciate it:. 
 
The drops on the leaves 
Slid down the canopies 
I smiled as I heard the trees 
Rain down a round of sylvan applause. 
— 
Love, Mr. H

 

Morning after (a three hour) Phone Sex Call:

Good morning, good friend and confidante and muse and lover and "one to whom I can say almost anything" and political transformer (of *me*) and fellow book-lover and theatre buff … and more and more and more. Have a great day!

I guess I, ahem, inspired him:

Dear Angela- 
 
When I was strolling down the street the other day, this is the thought I had: 
 
It all boiled down to this: 
She wanted my body, 
and I am 
a slut.
— 

Who knows where it came from, or where it’s going, but that rang a bell inside me, so I thought I’d share it with you. 

Your Pal, Mr. D.

After a sing-a-long during a Phone Sex Call:

Do you know about the original  ‘The Lion Sleeps Tonight‘  and the the neat history on how the poor Zulu that wrote the song got peanuts for the hit?

Oh, Mr. B.  You’re such a naughty one:

I’m thinking of auctioning off  my next orgasm since it will be two-plus weeks for me.   I didnt’ even do any edging.  Since climaxes usually give me migraines, this one ought to be a doozy!!!  I’ve got to be able to find SOME sadists around who would like a piece of that, right?  All are welcome to play.  However, contest results are final  (and sticky).

_____A.  tickled you pink ‘cuz you can’t wait to frame it next to your Obama poster.

_____B.  mildly amused you ‘cuz it just confirmed your opinion of all men.

_____C.  mildly irritated you ‘cuz you really don’t want to get this unsolicited crap from me especially.

_____D.  really pissed you off.

Pencil down, Ms. St. Lawrence.  You are, by the way, guaranteed an A+, but we can talk about that later in my office. 

Mr. J sent me this cute Joke:

A little old lady, well into her eighties, slowly enters the front door of a sex shop. Obviously very unstable on her feet, she wobbles we way across the store to the counter.   Finally arriving at the counter and grabbing it for support, she stutters to the sales clerk: "Dddooo youuuu hhhave dddddiilllldosss?"

The clerk, politely trying not to burst out laughing, replies: “Yes we do have dildos. Actually we carry many different models."

She asks: ” Ddddooo yyoooouuuu kknnnoooww hhhowww tttooo ttturrrnnn ttthe ssonoooffabbitch offffff?” 

 For my Poetry Jones from PQS

Angie:

Thought you’d like this one:

Fixation
by Ron Padgett

It’s not that hard to climb up
on a cross and have nails driven
into your hands and feet.
Of course it would hurt, but
if your mind were strong enough
you wouldn’t notice. You
would notice how much farther
you can see up here, how
there’s even a breeze
that cools your leaking blood.
The hills with olive groves fold in
to other hills with roads and huts,
flocks of sheep on a distant rise.

So what do you think, Angie? How many people will "get it"?

A little bit of devotion is always nice:

Miss Angela:

I hope you remember speaking with me a few nights ago.  Having never experienced anything like that  encounter, I’ve since been reading Zen Fetish and Blistered Lips. I knew you were special as soon as we’d exchanged a few words and wanted to learn more.  In reading all that you’ve written (what I’ve gotten to so far), I’m in total awe.  Now I understand I was truly, for the first time ever, in the hands of a TRUE  Goddess. 

I want you to know that I’ll be calling again soon, very soon.

I can’t get you out of my head.  But I’m sure you’re very well aware of that.

Sincerely, Slave J.Z

Okay, I think that’s quite enough for today.  I hope you enjoyed kicking the email tires with me, because I have a bunch more, which we will get to at a later date.  Of course they are all hidden away nicely in my SECRET Phone Sex Email File, where they will stay and many more will be added before we do this again. 

In the mean time, check out Ron Padgett’s website HERE. 

And PQS?  Sadly, I don’t think a lot of people will "get it."  But I do, you do, most of my readers do.  And I’m absolutely positive that Vanilla Savant will get it.  He thinks like we do.  What say you, Vanilla Savant?  Anybody else?

To Slave JZ:  Of course I remember you.  Don’t you even think for a moment that I wouldn’t.  You just might be capable of earning highly-coveted title of  "Favored Slave."  We’ll have to see how this all works out, won’t we? 

xo,  Angela

 Eat bacon and touch your penis!

Thanks to eloquent phone sex client and sometime life-coach, Mr. A., who says he heard this on an episode of Penn and Teller: Bullshit

xo, Angela