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

Artist:  Alex D’Ambrosio

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