Posts Tagged ‘Marlayna Dawson’

Tales of a Former Phone Sex Queen Part 2

Monday, August 16th, 2010

by Marlayna Dawson

If you missed, read Part 1 of Marlayna Dawson’s “Tales of a Former Phone Sex Queen” here at Fatale’s blog.

The Voyeur
Barry was 32 and a happily married father of two. He told me his wife was a gorgeous, open-minded redhead, and they had a great sex life – yet he called me at least once a week and pretended I was his childhood sweetheart – with a 21st-century twist.

He was one of a certain type of caller who’d feed me every detail of his story on the first call, and wouldn’t allow any deviation. These guys were like little kids who want the same fairytale read to them every night at bedtime – the familiarity comforted them like a cup of warm cocoa.

My name in the story was Jan, and I’d known Barry since we were four years old, when we played doctor. His was the first penis I ever saw, and mine was his first pussy. We went all the way as teenagers, but only once. The twist in the plot was this: Jan, or me, was now a lesbian, and I told Barry all about my affairs with women. He told me about his sex life, too. Basically, we were jack-off buddies. It was a voyeur-exhibitionist thing, but as I said, with a twist.

“Last week,” I whispered into the phone, “I picked up this little blonde in the women’s bar. She’d only been with chicks a couple of times, but she’d got the taste of pussy and couldn’t control herself. I think she hangs out waiting for an older gal like me to overtake her.

Well, Barry, you know me: I didn’t disappoint her. I took that sweet babe home and spread her out on my big comfy bed and ate her till she creamed on my face. Then I strapped on a dildo and fucked the living daylights out of her. When she left she could hardly walk.”

I suppressed a giggle – the story Barry made me tell was so-o-o-o corny.

I could always tell by Barry’s breathing and silence when I had him where I wanted him, in a drooling sex trance. Then I switched tracks, teasing him with stuff like, “You’d really love to fuck me again, wouldn’t you?” or “Too bad I don’t like to suck dick anymore.”

Barry gave it right back to me. “Yeah, well, you should’ve seen Nancy suck my dick last night, better than you ever did. She got down on her knees in front of the mirror, slurping till I came in her mouth. You never used to let me come in your mouth. I bet you miss it now, you dyke slut.”

We’d laugh like crazy talking this way, masturbate, and Barry always came – once in a while I did too, but most of the time I faked it to help him along.

Barry’s wife had no idea he called a phone sex service – but she did know he was a sucker for woman-to-woman sex, and sometimes they watched lesbian videos together. Whenever I came across a good one, I’d tell him about it. I used to find this part of our “relationship” exciting – sometimes I’d fantasize about Barry and Nancy watching lesbian videos, or Barry secretly thinking about “Jan” when they had sex. It was all just good dirty fun!

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Marlayna Dawson lives in California. Read part 1 of her “Tales of a Former Phone Sex Queen.”

To see a video about dirty talk, check out Talk to Me Baby by S.I.R. Video diva Shar Rednour.

To see a good lesbian video that would be good for straight couples, check out One Night Stand, winner of “Sexiest Dyke Movie” from the Feminist Porn Awards.

Phone Sex Vote Reminder

Saturday, August 14th, 2010

We are loving Marlayna Dawson’s “Tales of a Former Phone Sex Queen,” so this month we ask:

Have you ever tried phone sex?

Vote now! The phone-sex poll question is on Fatale’s home page.

Stay tuned. We’ll give you the results next month.

Until then, we wish you dazzling hot sex!

Nan and Christi

Tales of a Former Phone Sex Queen

Monday, August 2nd, 2010

By Marlayna Dawson

For over six years I worked as a phone sex operator. Guys told me everything – and then some. Sure, I already knew about fetishes – who doesn’t? But you would not believe some of the fetishes I heard about on the job.

The strangest came from a weekly caller who fantasized going scuba diving with a woman, sharing one oxygen tank. I guess it was all about risk and danger for him. I was highly committed to the job, and to make it sound realistic I put my head in the sink, underwater, and gasped for air in between talking. Hey, this was far from the worst thing I ever did on the phone – but I sure felt silly. Besides, nothing about this fantasy turned me on. But other fetishes did, for instance, food. Eating and/or playing with food before. During. After. As foreplay, main event, and afterglow.

The funny thing is, I used to have an aversion to mixing food with sex, ever since the time my ex-husband and I fooled around with maple syrup. It was such a sticky mess, especially in my hair, that I vowed never to merge kitchen and bedroom activities again.  But then a customer changed my mind with his sexy – and mouth-watering – fantasy requests. A simple man, Rick’s favorite sex food was the most common: whipped cream.

It’s obvious why whipped cream is popular between the sheets.  It’s thick, white, and creamy, and it’s easy – even fun! –  to apply. It’s delicious; even without sex eating whipped cream feels sinfully decadent. The first few times Rick called, he talked me through the fantasy, and once I picked it up, I did what I always did on the phone — talked him to a climax.

“I’m rubbing mounds of whipped cream all over my pussy,” I whispered.  To make it realistic, I actually squirted whipped cream on myself, then ate it after I hung up the phone. This was no big sacrifice! Rick started calling every night, and soon I was buying cans of whipped cream by the dozen. I considered buying stock in the company.

Not only did I cover my lower erogenous zones in whipped cream, I also experimented with my nipples and even my asshole. I dipped a silicone dildo into a bowl of the stuff, and masturbated with it. “I’m teasing my clit with a cool delicious dildo,” I told Rick. I squirted some on my hand so he could hear it, and used it as lube. “Now I’m putting it inside.” With a sigh and a moan – absolutely genuine –  I slid the dildo all the way in. It would mean a shower after the call; after all, Rick wasn’t there to lick it out of me. But I made him feel like he was.

“Ricky, baby, go down on me now, clean out my pussy…does it taste good, pussy juice mixed with whipped cream?”

He went nuts. And speaking of nuts, eventually he added them to our nightly dessert – along with sprinkles, chocolate chips, and cherries.  When he got around to hot fudge, I only pretended to agree – remembering my experience with maple syrup, I couldn’t deal with anything that sticky.

It’s been many years since I spoke to Rick, or did phone sex…and yet, even after all this time, I can’t walk past a bakery window full of éclairs and cannolis without buying one, taking it home, and partying with every sex toy in the house.

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Marlayna Dawson lives in California. A former phone sex worker, this is the first of two columns by Marlayna.  

To see a video about dirty talk, check out Talk to Me Baby by S.I.R. Video diva Shar Rednour.