Phone Sex

by Joseph Matuzak

Sending bodies over wire
water removed
broken further than powder
translated into sound
then reconstituted at destination.
Here is a warm leg turned
into inflection, here
an ear described by a sigh.
Fabric rubbing, soft creak,
and romance
is somewhere nearly there
area codes away
twitching through switches
like a snake biting at a chest
then filling your room
like smoke, a proxied body
that would scatter
at your grasp
or even if you exhale
because all that makes it real
is the slick spark
of electricity that runs
with a hoarse whisper
from there to here.

_________________________________

I’m having a pretty busy weekend despite my Enforced Vacation, which I may go into at a later date.  But I wanted to let you know I was thinking about you; and what better way than with a poem about phone sex?  Hmmm.  I guess this could be akin to phoning it in, except via the net.   Typing it in?  Would that be better?  Am I phoning or typing it in?  Ah, what the heck.  At least I (with a little help from PQS) found you a good poem to read.

While the poem describes a type of phone sex to which I don’t particularly ascribe, it certainly hits the nail on the head for plenty of others.  So enjoy the pretty phrases and rhythms and pacing .. and who knows?  You just might have to make that call.

You can read more of Joseph Matuzak’s poetry HERE, and can listen to an interview and more HERE.

xo, Angela

Hey!  I didn’t say it.  The fellow who typed it into Google’s search engine said it (see red text below).  But I sure do wonder what he was specifically trying to hunt down.  I dunno.  Is there such a thing as a love bug in the animal kingdom?  Was he looking for a hot and steamy twist on bestiality?  Something like an arthropodous idee fixe?  A fetish for romantic vermin that will crawl all over his cock and suck it at the same time? 

I haven’t a clue and, quite honestly, I’m not sure I even want to know.

Anyway, as I’ve noted before, I do occasionally gather the initiative to take a look at my website stats.  Most of the time, I could care less.  I’m a poet at heart — the frippery of data bores me to absolutely no end.  Blah, blah, blah, blah.  I’ve neither the time nor inclination to extricate, investigate, evaluate or differentiate. 

I just don’t see a need to over-complicate this.  After all, everything is working just fine the way it is:  You find me, I find you, it’s love-at-first-site and we live happily ever after. That is, at least until I kick you to the curb.  So …  why mess with a good thing?

BUT …

As a RESPONSIBLE business woman I should be paying attention.  So once in a blue moon, I take a gander.  Which I did.  And now I’m done looking for another few months.  Or two.  Or three.  Maybe four or five.  What am I going to do with this info?  Absolutely nothing.  Except let you take a peek, too:

• fetish girl with sneakers
• phone sex
• teased and taunted milf
• watch fetish
• Mistress Angela faceslapping
• phone sex quotes (a blog piece about this soon)
  
• small penis humiliation thumbs (think he was looking for pics)
• bdsm slap face
• eating her cunt and asshole
• phone sex goddess
• eats my cunt (good idea, huh girls?)
  
• teasing mistress
• wife getting fucked (so many men love this)
  
• phone femdom
• femdom
• zen fetish (you lookin’ at me?)
  
• woman´s fetish with small penis (i don’t think so)
  
• fetish sweat in my clothes
• snatch
• cuckold phone sex (again with the cuckold thing)
  
• goddess, mistress phone
• mistress humiliates
• getting fucked while people watch
• cock leash  (can i hear an amen?)
  
• femdom wedding
• humiliation "small penis" story
• cuckold story
• haircut fetish xxx
• zen fetish (come to angie, baby)
• phone sex
• cock sucking love bugs
• types of cuckold
• phonesex
• tease denial (u know i love it)
  
• cuckold
• real cuck
• erotic hair cut fetish
• cum on my pussy (don’t even try it)
  
• on your knees boy femdom
• cuckold type relationship
• zen fetish (he knew exactly what he wanted)
  
• sneaker porn
• tease denial
• zen fetish (a stalker perhaps?)
• ass kissing cuckold
• "small penis humiliation"
• oh cum all ye faithful

Shocked?  Intrigued?  Disgusted?  All I did was copy and paste.  YOU found ME here.  I was just blogging away, minding my own business.  What a naughty bunch of bad, bad boys you are.  Now you’re here and just what am I supposed to do with you?  Maybe I should force you to pick something from your own list?  Or maybe I should have fudged the list and added things I’d decidedly like you to do.  Let me think about that and get back to you. 

And for the record, I’m not into bestiality.  Particularly of the sort involving creepy-crawly arachnids of an sort.   So disgusting. I mean I’m the girl who screams when I see an ants.

Then again, if your into be squashed like a bug …. call me!  *wink*

xo, Angela

Phone Sex Email:  A SLIPPERY BAG OF TRICKS

Well once — when I refused to do Racial Humiliation — I actually got this one:  Get off your fucking high hourse [sic], you fucking cunt.  Sigh.  And you wonder why sometimes I just want to turn off the phones, curl up under a blanket and watch a good old-fashioned movie on Turner Classic Movies.  (BTW … you can download some pretty damn cool FREE  backgrounds and screen savers — including It’s a Bikini World, Great Expectations, and Have Rocket, Will Travel from TCM right HERE.) 

Oops!  There I go digressing again.

I get a lot of jokes.

Mr. D. — who happens to be rather unhappily married sent me this:

THE F. B. I. WAS IN THE PROCESS OF INTERVIEWING APPLICANTS SEEKING TO BE AGENTS.

MORAL:  Women are crazy. Don’t mess with them.

Sometimes, after a call, I will get the sweetest Thank You EMail:

Thank you so much for our encounter today. It was a pleasure in every way imaginable. It’s been a long time since an erotic and kinky encounter felt so right. I do believe I could’ve chatted with you for hours (kinky or not).

Or a humorous follow-up:

My mother would be proud…well…..  Love, Mr. M.

Maybe something to both tickle and impress:

May I compare thee to a summer rose?  I know you make me thorny.

Or an invitation:

I’m going to be in your neck of the woods August 18 and 19.  Would you consider getting together?  Just for a cup of coffee, of course.

And of course I get zillions of Fantasy Requests and they do run the gamut:

***Will you be my Twisted Psychiatrist and turn me into your Nasty Bimbo Slut?  (this included pictures of his feminized self)  YES I WILL!

***Mmmm … I want to be your slutty whore.  Will you strap-on train me?  YES I WILL!

***If I send you pictures of me doing dirty things (dildos, eating my own cum, etc.), will you blackmail me?  I will send you my girlfriend’s phone number and email address.  NO I WONT!

***Will you turn me into your jack off boy?  Make me wait, make me beg.  Train my cock to serve you.  Will you watch me on cam?  YES I WILL

***Dear Mistress Angela:  I have a fantasy about being totally addicted to a woman who enjoys controlling me and using me.  It is very important that she enjoy her power and can make me do anything.  May I call you?  YES YOU CAN!

And another joke (from a fav sissy boy):

My flight was being served by an obviously gay flight attendant, who seemed to put everyone in a good mood as he served us food and drinks.  As the plane prepared to descend, he came swishing down the aisle and told us that "Captain Marvey has asked me to announce that he’ll be landing the big scary plane shortly, so lovely people, if you could just put your trays up, that would be super."

To which (I swear) the flight attendant replied, without missing a beat, "Well, sweet-cheeks, in my country I’m called a Queen, so I outrank you.  Tray-up, Bitch."

PQS sends me poetry:

Professionally speaking, things are going well.  Through the month of June, I pretty much was just working weekends (VERY BUSY WEEKENDS — which I will be blogging about in the next few days).  My absence Mondays through Thursdays was not due to my Diva complex, which I admit to having –at least sometimes — but due to the fact that I’ve been rather ill.  Of course, the show must go on.  And so — at least on weekends — it did, with nary a caller even suspecting I wasn’t just not quite up to par.  Truthfully, I needed the weekdays for R&R.  

The nature of my illness?  I just couldn’t hold down food.  When you forget you’ve eaten watermelon and barf up red stuff … it gets kinda scary.  I lost twelve pounds and now have to work at putting that back on, so I guess it’s pizza and milkshakes for me, and maybe my world-famous tuna noodle casserole.  Tra la la. 

Because I wouldn’t go to see a doctor — I tend to self-medicate and self-diagnose — I was kinda-sorta playing Sherlock Homeopathologist.   I know, I know!  Don’t start preaching.  Anyway, just like any gumshoe worth her salt, I  finally nailed the culprit , which ended up being one of the many herbs, supplements and vitamins I take on a daily basis.  Again, please don’t preach.  I do my research and know my stuff.  Let’s just say that I won’t be ordering that particular supplement from that company again.  

This entire episode got me to thinking about how Phone Sex Operators are, by the very nature of the Phone Sex Business, pretty much one-dimensional in the minds of our callers.  And, of course, the same works in reverse:  we can make the cursory mistake of sizing up our callers just by their kinky fantasy.  On both ends of the phone, we are so much more than that.  All-in-all, it’s rather lazy of us, isn’t it?  In my own defense, I do make a concerted effort to ABSOLUTELY not do that, but I’m not Mary Poppins and I sometimes fail.   Particularly if the caller is a one hit wonder — coming (pun) and going in the blink of an eye, never to be heard from again.  But, heh!  I’m trying here.  I really am.

So — in that vein — if you show me yours, I’ll show you mine.  In other words, here’s some things you just might not know — and may or may not like — about your FemDom PhoneSex Goddess:

I’m extremely impatient.  I want what I want and I want it now.  And, yes, I’ve been known to throw a temper tantrum when my desires have been frustrated.  It’s not so very pretty when I’m   raging against the mediocrity of bureaucracy in all its ineptness, sluggishness and redundancy.

It follows that I expect attention.  Particularly when YOU are taking MY money.  Which means if  I am you’re customer, you better at least act like you care.  Because I won’t hesitate to spend my money elsewhere.  The upside of this is that if you do your job well — I will make it worth your while, tipping generously and recommending your service to others.

FASHIONABLY LATE could be my middle name, because I’m never on time for anything.  And while you might argue that the term should be RUDELY LATE, it does suit my general temperament .  I’m single, after all; and that does tend to make a girl  a bit self-centered.  And  while I hate waiting for other people; I’d have no problem making them wait for me.  This doesn’t work with my doctor or dentist.  When I arrive late, they just push other appointments ahead of me and I am duly punished.  Also I like to look top-notch fresh and pretty when attending functions, so that I put off dressing, hair and makeup until the last minute.   And I am working on this though, because I do realize it’s very unfair to others.

When it comes to AFFAIRS OF THE HEART, I take the "affairs" part far more seriously than I probably should, preferring flings to relationships.  I don’t do well in long term relationships. It’s rather confusing even to me, as I really do believe in love and marriage and all that stuff.  Still, no matter how promising something starts out, I find myself getting bored rather quickly.  And then I’m wiggling my way back to singlehood  as fast as I can.  But there is JewBoy, who I am at least keeping around at arm’s length.  So maybe there’s still hope for me?

What’s more:

I read in bed.  Every single night.  No exceptions.

I’m a reality show junkie.  TOP CHEF, PROJECT RUNWAY and HELL’S KITCHEN to name a few.

Most of the time, I leave a window open (and sometimes the doors to my balcony) when running my AC or furnace. 

I love pink.  All things pink.  My Ipod, cellphone, GPS and even my license plates are all pink.  You should see my pink patent leather fuck me pumps.

I own way too many pairs of shoes … and am still buying.  I WON’T BE STOPPED.

I have a fairly severe case of acrophobia.  So I don’t snow ski and it takes everything I have to go down an escalator.

I give away too much money. 

I don’t smoke pot, because it makes me want to clean house.  But I think it should be legal.

I like codeine and take it every chance I get.  Lucky for me, I don’t get many chances.

When it comes to liquor, I can barely tolerate more than two drinks without getting sick.  But I do have my  rare moments.  Once or twice a year I get tipsy.

I don’t like sitting still.  I have a Type A personality and have to be doing something. 

I’m a terrible Bingo player:  I’d rather  people-watch and end up missing numbers, which drives whoever dragged me there crazy.  And I  am always angry with the person who calls BINGO.  I want to jump over the tables and bitch slap her.

My favorite card games are pinochle and spades.

My favorite board games are scrabble and boggle.

I DO NOT walk around in stockings and heels every day.   In fact, I actually prefer sneakers.

So there!  You got yourself a peek behind the Phone Sex Curtain.  As I’ve maintained all along, Phone Sex Divas really are just the girls next door.  And now you know that we can be  just silly and bitchy and demanding as your wives and girlfriends.  I guess the lesson in all this is to BE NICE TO YOUR HONEY.  She could be me!

xo, Angela 

… oh!  I wrote a new poem.  And yes I was pissed off.