Phone Sex Pranks

Click on the blog title to read about and hear clips of a guy crank-yanking phone sex ops. The only problem is, if these girls have been doing it long enough, they've heard 98.6% of it all, as far as bizarre fetishes. Clown sex being one of them. But Mr. CLIPPY? Well, I wouldn't mind seeing him and Mr. TIVO get it on and have nasty gay sex.

Crochet Bikini Blues

I only told him that I was thinking of getting a crochet bikini. My wish was his command as one of my NF slaveboys offered to buy me one at this beachside market. And decided to model at least the top for this photo. He knows my favorite color is light blue. Psssst: don't even think about modeling the bottoms. But dude if you live in xxxxxxx and work at a resort, why aren't you tan? No, wait, I spot the t-shirt tan or rather, the resort golf shirt tan. But the chest hair that doesn't match the mane, time to break out the duck tape for a 40-Year Old Virgin chest hair and treasure trail 'wax job'. This pic is enough for me not to want a crochet bikini.

100% Gay

Yes 100% Sara you have my permission to post my email to your blog and this email too. When I was throwing out all my girlie porn magazines as you instructed, I looked thru some of them and I didn't even get hard. Tits and pussy and ass don't get my dick hard any more. But then I saw some hardcore photos in Fox and I was drawn to the cock and I wanted it. OMG I am going so gay.

{Check out the Men's Story magazine article title Why American Men Are Sex Weaklings! Hint: Upper right. Hahahaha I would say that is true if it were titled Why WHITE American Men Are Sex Weaklings. I wish I were the Cobra Goddess and could keep Lust Slaves! -- Sara}

When Shove Comes to Push

OMG Sara, I have been jerking off to Lorenzo Gomez photos since you posted that magnificent black man with the firehose cock. I have also jacked off imagining that I was forced by you to suck these cocks. I think I am going gay for you and it didn't take much force, just a little push as you told me on the phone, just a little push off the gay cliff.

{Click on the blog post title to access more images from Lorenzo Gomez -- Sara}

Grandma's Gaydar

Today my Mom and I drove up to Cocoa Beach to meet my sister there for a Beach Day. It kind of made me sad in a way. My Mom used to take me and my sister to the beach when we were little and now we were all grown up. I guess the sadness was 'time is passing'.

Well anyway, these 2 guys walked by us on the beach, doing the stroll, and when they passed, my sister just said 'gay'. I added 'I second that'.

A few minutes later my mother said, you know who could tell the gays? Nana. She could spot them.

My sister said, oh com'n when I was little, I remember she used to complain about Liberace and most of the guys on Hollywood Squares being gay, that was no stretch.

Oh no, she had the gift, she would go on about Rock Hudson, James Dean, Dennis Hopper, all gay.

Dennis Hopper? my sister queried, he's been married....

He was married for a week to the skinny girl in the Mama's and the Papa's, she probably discovered he was gay. Remember his career started in the 50's and your Nana loved the movies and the movie stars. Alot of them came to Miami back in the day.

So Nana had the gaydar.

Hmmmm? My mother was puzzled.

The gay radar Mom.

Ohhhhh gaydar. Well hmmm. You both seem to have the gaydar.

It was true, my sister and I could spot the gays. We would argue about different movie actors or athletes and their gayness. My sister would say I was in denial if I didn't agree that a certain actor was gay, when she knew he was. We both had gaydar, but yes, it could be clouded by denial in not wanting to believe someone we may have had a masturbatory crush on, would prefer sucking cock to eating pussy. We would argue about guys who we knew being gay, guys we were 'dating', guys we would just randomly spot. But sometimes we instantly agreed on 'the gay'.

The gaydar gene must have skipped a generation, my sister commented.

My mother only sighed.

And yes, another type of Cuckoldry

I wanted to tell Sara about this other type of cuckolding. I finally got married while I was still in the military. I was willing to put up with a little fucking around from my wife because I was gone so much and I knew she wasn't going to go without sex for that long of a time. I mean she was a horny girl, cute, fun, alot going for her. I don't have a small dick. Once I got the experience, girls would tell me I'm a great fuck. So there you go. I don't know what you'd call this type of cuckolding. But it exists. Believe me, alot of guys I knew in the Army put up with it too, but when they got home, they didn't want it back in their faces if that makes sense.

{more from the same correspondent in the post below}

A response to the Real Victim blog post

Real Victim,

Both of you are the real victims. Let me tell you what happened to me. I grew up out West in rural Wyoming. I was very sexually unexperienced and very naive about women. I joined the Army to see the World! Yeah right. I saw military bases, the insides of airplanes, bars, hoochie mamas, ho's. When I was 24 I was stationed in Korea and fell in love with a Russian girl. Yeah you read it right, Russian girl working at a whorehouse in Korea. She was a slave. Believe it there are girls who are slaves. She saw an ad in a Russian newspaper about overseas high paying jobs and answered it. There was little work in her town. She thought this would be the jetset life or at least get her out of nowhere fast. They told her she was going to be a translator, funny because she only knew a little English. They sent her to Korea. When she got there, they took her passport and broke her in as a ho at a brothel. Russian mobsters run this scam and ran the brothel. Well I fell in love with her. She confessed that she was a slave and that if I paid the pimp owner ten thousand bucks, she would be freed. So I began to get the money together. I'm not kidding. I believed it. One of my buddies found out, the next thing I know I'm in front of a Major who is major pissed at me. Telling me this is a scam and I could get killed over it. As soon as they know I am off the base with the cash, I could be beaten, robbed, killed. There isn't a nice exchange of cash for the girl. And since I was at risk, the Major had me confined to base. And then transferred. Desert Storm was ramping up anyway so I got sent to the sandbox. A guy I met there told me about how these girls will keep working the scam. Most are drug addicted or penniless to do anything but ho themselves out. But they are victims too. Some even get told if they get 3 guys on the scam, they'll get a cut and get to leave. But the only way they leave is if they get too old, pregnant, fat, ugly, diseased, and are kicked out. I don't have any bad feelings toward her. Don't have bad feelings toward your wife. She was brainwashed. And broken into that life. The only happiness she ever knew might have been when she was with you.

The Real Victim? A Loser's Confession

Sara, I decided to write this after reading the Addicted to Phone Sex posting on your blog. This will probably be a long story. Pop open a cold one!

When you're as overweight as I am, you can't be picky when it comes to dating or marriage. I'm in my 30's and close to 300 pounds. I work at a small town newspaper as the editor for the Sports section and now also the newspaper's Sports blog. I have to work late. We actually print and collate our own papers here, so late night is when the newspapers are assembled and the sales inserts are stuffed into the papers. That's where I met Wuen, my Vietnamese wife. She was a "stuffer" as we call that job, so breathtakingly beautiful in such an ugly place. I asked the manager about her. Yep, we get these gooks for minimum wage, she's from Nam, y'know, me love you long time. I just found it so insulting what he said about her and his racist comment in general, but I didn't want to stir up trouble, so I just let it go.

I found out more about her by bribing an older Vietnamese guy who works there who unofficially recruits other Vietnamese to take any open positions. She was 22 and had no children. He even said, for a price, he could make a date happen. The way he said date, well, he meant the dirty type of date. We kept going round-on-round, I kept saying, yes, I want to date her, but not date her. Obviously, the nuance got lost in translation, so I had to let that go, too. Finally, I told him, yes, I would date her and gave him $150 in cash. She was off on Monday night, so I took her out. I think she looked scared, because she was probably expecting that I was going to try to have sex with her, but I took her to a nice restaurant and we had dinner. I asked if she wanted to go to a movie, and she was reluctant and said "my English not so good". I told her it might help with her English to watch movies and tv and listen to the radio. She said she does that when she's not working.

I dropped her back at her apartment, one she shared with other Vietnamese immigrants. I kissed her hand. That was as much physical contact as we had. For every date, I gave her $50 cash and expected nothing. One date she asked if she was my geisha? And I said yes, even though geishas are Japanese, perhaps it was a close definition, since she was my social companion, who I enjoyed spending time with, and who I gave money to, in exchange for that time.

About 2 months later, she relayed to me that she was having difficulty with her Visa and that she would either have to return to Vietnam or stay on illegally. I suggested that we get married to take that burden away from her, and that if she wanted, we could divorce after an acceptable time, so that her residency would not be compromised. Amazingly enough, she agreed.

I was in heaven the first few months we were married. Although I had never kissed her lips, or done anything but kiss her hand and her beautiful feet, I just enjoyed having her there. The conversation, the laughter, the excellent food she prepared, how nice she kept my condo. Then things started to fall apart. Suddenly, she wanted to go back to work and make some money of her own, even though I told her that my money was her money, if she needed to buy anything, to let me know. She told me she needed to send money back to Vietnam to help various relatives, and that she wanted this to be money she earned. She told me she needed to wire $50 per week to her grandmother. And another $50 a week to her Aunt who had a small mushroom farm and was supporting 3 children. I heard from some of the Vietnamese in the "stuffing" department, you could live well on $30 a week, so for her relatives to get $50 a week was generous. I told her I would be glad to give her the $100 per week to wire to her relatives, but she refused.

The next day, Wuen announced that she had found a job as a waitress, which didn't thrill me at all when I found out it was at a Vietnamese restaurant an hour away in the city. And her schedule would keep her working till 1am and by the time she got home, it would be 2am or later. So for a while I was only seeing her a few nights a week, when she was off and a few hours a day, if I was lucky to be home early enough. When I told her I wanted her to quit this job, she stomped her feet and yelled NO. When I insisted as her husband that she quit, she slapped me and yelled at me in Vietnamese and swatted me with her purse, hard.

I'll cut to the chase and tell you that she kept working and our marriage was miserable. Then one nite, I got a phone call. She got busted by an undercover officer for prostitution at a massage parlor. Massage parlor? Luckily, the charges were dropped when I showed up with my brother, a fairly well-known city government attorney. My brother and I explained that her English was really terrible and that she must have misunderstood what the cop had asked her. So now, my family knew my situation, because my brother wasn't born yesterday. He told me I should cut her loose as quickly as possible and that he would recommend a divorce attorney. Divorce? I didn't want a divorce.

I was shaking when Wuen confessed that when she first came to the US, she was basically enslaved to work at the restaurant to pay off her debt to come here, then she was purchased to work at the massage parlor, but she had left and moved out of the city to my town, to escape and make a new start. But someone in the Vietnamese community had turned her in to her former "employers" for a cash reward. She told me I could buy out these "employers" for $10,000 and then she could be my wife forever. While this all sounded incredible to me, the next day I talked to a friend, an editor at a paper in the city, who told me this immigrant slavery isn't b.s., but often, the girls are working with gangs to scam the guys into the buy-out. So I might have just been a mark the whole time?

The night after I get Wuen out of jail, this tricked out car pulls up, like one of those cars from the Fast and Furious movies. Two Asian guys are in the front, I assume they are Vietnamese and there is another Asian in the back. They leave the car running, get out of the car and knock on the door. They are all posing, pretending to be tough, but not one of them weighed more than 130 pounds. I heard these posers like to carry knives and guns for show. But what did I have to lose? My pathetic life? They didn't even know how much medication I have to take to get through the day to fight high blood pressure, to fight fluid retention, fight back spasms, that I have no quality of life without my wife, that she was the only thing who brought me any joy, whether she was a prostitute or not. The person who has the least to lose is always the most dangerous. The gangstas tell me that Wuen belongs to them and that she must leave with them, or else.... I'm thinking about how I can crush all these tiny Asian dudes....

Then I see the flash of red and blue lights....someone has called the cops, apparently an annoyed neighbor, because there is very loud rap music coming from their car. The Vietnamese gangstas leave, but they leave with Wuen! How humiliating....

My brother called a few days later. He had hired a P. I. to look into her background. Wuen wasn't wiring any money back to relatives. Well, no surprise there. And she had been working at the restaurant and then the massage parlor run by the gangstas to pay off her debt to come to the US. So she wasn't lying there either. She had tried to escape, but they got her back. But the $10K to buy her out was most likely a scam they engineered, as they probably thought I was easy. But the realistic outcome? If I had given them the money, they would have kept it and kept pimping her out at the massage parlor.

I felt bad for Wuen, and I don't know who the real victim was, her or me. But I haven't seen her again. I don't know where she is. Technically, I am still married to her, because I can't find her to serve divorce papers. I have a P.I. tracking leads, but the P.I. said that these massage parlors are run by gangs who move the girls around the country to different locations, and that Wuen has been moved.

I wonder if she really did want a new life with me, even though I never slept with her, or consummated the marriage as the saying goes. I wonder if I was her port in a storm. Or I wonder if it was all part of a plot to get money out of me. Maybe I wasn't the first one she had scammed? Maybe you can make me your June Loser of the Month. I just don't want to send a picture, in case someone recognized me.

Do You Like It Black with Cream?

Hi Sara, I just had to write you and let you know
about my recent encounter. I was not having a lot of
luck finding black men to service and then I saw an ad
on Craigslist for a black top with a 9+ inch cock and
I answered immediately. I sent him some pictures and
he told me to come to his apartment at 3:00 pm this
afternoon. I was so nervous that I could barely stand
it.

Finally 2:30 rolled around and I left to go to his
place and I was shaking the whole drive over...I just
didn't know if I could take that monster. I am not a
small man, 6'5", 210 lbs, in good shape with a
respectable 7.5-8 inch member, but I am nothing
compared to the ebony Adonis. He answered the door
and I almost passed out on the spot, he was my height
and about 240 lbs and cut, he was also nude and
already had a hard on and he just looked at me and
said "shit boy, don't just stand there drooling get in
here and get on your gd knees and worship my cock." I
fell to my knees and just stared at his beautiful
cock, it was uncut and I just reached up and lightly
grasped it with my hand, it was so hot and soft I just
had to put it in my mouth. I started to lick the
head and the he told me to start off by licking and
sucking his balls, they were shaved and as big as
oranges. I could only get one in my mouth at a time,
he kept telling me to clean his balls and would slap
his big cock against my face every few seconds, he
said that if Idid a good enough job the will call
over a friend or two so that he can show off to his
friends what he could make a white faggot do for him.

My god I was so hard and turned on I told him I
wanted to suck all his friends, he told me I had to
prove that I had earned the right to meet his
friends, now shut up and suck my big black cock. I
said Yes sir, and took as much of his tool in my
mouth as I could and he grabbed the back of my head
and started to face fuck me. I loved it, I could
taste his precum and it was like manna from heaven and
I wanted more. After about 4 minutes of face
fucking, he told me to stop and we move to the couch
where he told me to rim his ass, so I moved to his ass
and licked all up and down his crack and then paid
close attention to his hole, he just laughed at me
and said he could tell that I liked eating his ass,
and I told him that it was delicious. He then said he
was ready for my ass and that it was time to be his
bitch.

Now I have a 8inch dildo, but it is not nearly
as thick as his gorgeous cock and I was a little
afraid but I still got on all fours and let him go to
town. I grabbed a condom and some lube and started to
finger fuck my ass, he slapped my ass a couple of
times and said I needed to fuck myself on his
fingers(he had three in me at this point) and I
started to grind myself on his hand, sfter a few
minutes of this he said I was ready and he slipped on
the condom and pushed against me, oh man did he feel
huge...when the head popped in I almost screamed...he
just stopped for a second with the head just inside of
me, letting me get used to the feeling and his size.
And then he started to move and I was in heaven. I
have never felt so full and I loved every minute of
it.

He was then fucking hard and fast and laughing at me
calling me his faggot and that I was now his and he
would use me any way I wanted, and if I did not
profess myself as his little bitch boy and say that I
would let him do to me whatever he wanted then he
would stop fucking me right then and there and kick my
ass out of his apartment, naked and with a hardon. I
could not let that happen I wanted his cock in me it
was the greatest feeling I have ever expierenced and I
wanted his cum in my mouth, so I swore to be his bitch
and to do his bidding.

He then flipped me over on my back lifted my legs
in the air and fucked me even harder then before
and he told me to start stroking my hard cock
and he wanted me to cum on my face while he
was fucking me. I grabbed my cock and it did not take
but about 5-6 strokes before I came and I came harder
and more than I ever did beforeand it was all over my
face and in my mouth, he was laughing again and saying
over and over about how much I loved his dick. I DID
LOVE HIS DICK. He then pulled out of my ass, took off
the condom grabbed my head and forced his huge cock
down my throat, I wish I could say I swallowed the
whole thing but it was just too big but I got most of
it down and he face fucked me again and said I better
swallow the whole damn load or I would never see him
again, He began to shoot his load and it just never
seemed to stop, I swallowed and swallowed and finally
he stopped cuming and I had been successful in
swallowing the whole load, I was smiling from ear to
ear. He then told me that I was acceptable and that
he would call me and that I had better always answer
the phone and be at his place immediately when he said
and that he would introduce me to his friends.

Oh So Gay

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The Shrinkage Factor

Last week I had a caller who rang up my Size Queen line claiming to have a huge cock. Oh how big is it? I queried. I had the sense this guy was a faker trying to make me believe he was packing more than a Chiquita banana in his panties. Seven inches, he replied.

Oh that's right, because seven inches is so huge!!!

I should have a minimum cock size on this line. But then I would just be raising the bar another notch for the underhung wimps trying to imagine what it would be like to have a big cock....Well needless to say, my comment about seven inches caused banana boy to hang up due to instant shrinkage! Outed!

PS My sister and I used to give bananas blow jobs as practice! If our Mother only knew what we really did to bananas before eating them....

Loser Confession "Addicted to Phone Sex"

My confession:

I have been a diabetic since I was a little boy and I think that was what made me a wimp. My father treated me like I was fragile and weak, and kids made fun of me. I'm 38 and I work for a diabetic supply company, I sit in a cubicle processing telephone orders all day. I'm bald, fat, ugly and life has passed me by.

I still live with my mother. She found out I am addicted to phone sex because she knew I couldn't be on the phone talking to women every nite, since I don't know any in person. And she opened a few credit card bills. She is threatening to throw me out if I don't break my addiction. To pacify my mother, I went to a few AA Meetings to talk about my addiction, but I knew I couldn't keep going because the support was only there for alcoholics, not compulsive masturbating losers.

My dad had a trailer on some land, he used it for hunting and fishing. He left it to me in his will, it's upstate, in the middle of nowhere. I may as well move there and become a hermit. I have to pay to get a phone hook-up, cellular doesn't work there. The taxes are like incredibly low, like $100 per year, and no mortgage. I could live there very cheaply and telecommute for the diabetic supply company. I could spend even more money on phonesex with you and my other favorite flirts. You can post my picture, because what do I care if the world sees what a loser I am.

You know it's pathetic when....

a rat's peen and balls are bigger than some of the lil dicks in pics emailed to me. Hung like a rat just doesn't have a ring to it? Did I ever mention how my sister, remember she's a nurse, noticed that some black babies' penises are bigger than some of the guys' penises who have posted their little shame pics in my Yahoo Group. Pathetic I know. But reality.

MAY'S BIGGEST LOSER OF THE MONTH!

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