Yeah, about that schedule you’re always asking about. 

I just don’t have one. 

Well, actually I do have one, but you wouldn’t recognize it as a schedule per say.  Because real time schedules and phone sex schedules — well that’s like comparing apples and oranges.  Basically, it goes like this:  I show up, give you all I’ve got until I ain’t gots no more to give.  

As a PSO trying to give each guy exactly what he needs I have to be on-my-toes hyper-sensitive, hyper-aware and hyper-focused.  Even then I don’t always get it right, but no one can fault me for not always making the effort.  And you CAN take that to the bank.

So today — in some ways — wasn’t as hard as others, because many of my callers were regulars, two of you just calling to chat.  But, then again, the challenge with regulars is to always make the "same old kink" somehow fresh and exciting.  Did we accomplish that Mr. P?  I think we did and hope you do, too.

What I do know about today is that I spoke to twelve different gentlemen, with three of those calls lasting over an hour.  We visited The Ava Martin Institute (for the "re-training" of the male spouse).  There were three jerk-a-thons, one with a countdown (no cumming until I get to number one). 

I was a naughty teacher wielding a formidable strap-on, a deliciously corrupt next door neighbor, a hypnotic demon-succubus and a cuckolding goddess with a penchant for black meat.  Boys moaned and groaned and whimpered and wiggled.  I teased and taunted and flaunted.  I had my way with every last one of them.

It makes a girl tired.  All of that sex.

So I’m going to bed now.  I need my beauty rest so I can do it all over again tomorrow.

xo, Angela

PS: edited 3/1/08 to add …

And then I get the following email this morning:

Dearest Angela: 

Thank you, it was great to talk with you. You are one of the nicest people I know.  And so evil!!

Sincerely, Mr. P. 

I do so love my work.