a semi-real moment in an unreal life

I love the calls where I get to be myself.

I mean, I’m never myself entirely. I’m always my PSO name who, depending on who I’m talking to, may be anywhere from 29 to 58, with 0 to 2 kids (possibly nursing), a time-share in a dungeon, a husband and two lovers, and/or an 8-inch fully functioning dick.

But some callers, like the guy I just finished, they are so ready to talk and take whatever I dish out, I can let my personality setting slide pretty damn close to the default. Because I don’t have to keep track of my vocal pitch, or whether I’m laughing too much, or whether my pussy is shaved or not. I don’t have to steer clear of my fingers in his ass, or pinching his balls, or getting him into an old pair of his girlfriend’s panties.

I don’t even need to worry about whether he prefers “dick” vs. “cock”, because he really is into anything. I just get to curse him and pound the armrest of the easy chair and pull out all the good stuff from my virtual sex-toy chest. I tell him in detail about all the tastes he’s getting–sweat and pussy juice and that flavor that can only be found two inches deep into my ass. I pin his arms down with my legs, tease his cock that’s trapped in a pair of green satin panties, and by the end of the call I’m laughing loudly, in my normal laugh, while he catches his breath and jokingly grouses about having to wipe his own come off of his neck.

I’m not coming, but DAMN, I’m having fun.


Just so you all know, I am going to be posting notes and photos and vids from my tour at this blog. So sometimes you’ll get stuff like today’s note, you know, lotsa good raunch, and occasionally you might get a picture of me wearing a fedora and putting some Fringe staff member in a headlock. Just saying. Things could… get a little random up in this joint.

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