Back in the day, NiteFlirt was pretty generous with the character limit for reviewing calls. I ran across these — some long, some not so long — “blasts from the past” and thought I’d share them with you.

Just so you know, I’ve been pretty lucky when it comes to callers. They are, for the most part, the cream of the crop.  And I wouldn’t have it any other way. They are (usually) well-mannered, thoughtful, generous and appreciative.

So minus the un-usually blokes, which I’ve blocked from speaking with me, here are some comments/reviews from some pretty wonderful fellows:

• Always exciting, always unscripted and unpredictable, always my favorite.
• Angela is one of the the smartest and most giving women that i have ever had the pleasure of speaking to. Not only does she put you at ease with her warm personality but she does an amazing job of painting a vivid picture of your fantasy, one that leaves a lasting impression on your mind. Angela definitely gets my highest recommendation
• Ms. Angela, you always know what I need. When I think it can’t possibly get any better, you raise the bar another notch or two. And I, of course, rise (pun intended) to the occasion. Thanx, U Know Who
• Men want her attention, women want to be her. Men are lucky: If we are gentlemen and adequately respectful, Angela will turn her brilliant gaze our way. Women, on the other hand, are just plain out of luck.
• Gawd, she’s good!
• A phone session with Angela St. Lawrence is akin to stumbling upon an oasis. Amidst a desert populated with 45-year old “Barely Legal Brittanys” and grammar-challenged “Lifestyle Dom Lolitas,” in Angela you will find someone who really knows what a sentence is and how to complete it; who can actually weave a fantasy and keep all the facts straight. Someone who treats her callers with respect instead of simply as cash cows ripe to be milked. In this milieu, Angela sets the bar. Give her a try. I think you’ll find she’s worth every penny.
• It’s St. Lawrence of Erotica…she commands vast armies of devoted men who, like me, willingly subjugate their own needs for the wants of Angela. I serve with honor, in spite of my pants being around my shoes.
• All she needs to do is say that she is taking control – and I am putty in her hands. Angela reads me so well, pleases me so much and satisfies me so completely that there never will be another like her in my life.
• Absolute phenomenal. The depths of her imagination never fail to amaze me. Terrific!
• Move over Cleopatra, Helen of Troy, and every other Fem Fatale who ever thought she knew how to control her man. Angela has the secret code, the golden key, the sacred scrolls. No male is safe with a woman like this on the loose.
• Dear Betty Crocker, Angela has found a new use for a garlic press, so now I am a soprano who smells like an Italian restaurant.
• Angela is terrific! She is super sexy and also smart; a rare combination that makes her irresistible.
• Angela told me that I remind her of an old rhythm and blues singer….Little Richard. Or was it Wee Willy Winky? In any case, I told her she could thread my needle anytime. I think she still may be laughing. God, I love this woman.
• I’m a very dirty boy. And Miss Angela knows how to take control of a chronic masturbater like me. She is threatening everything from enforced chastity to castration if I don’t get myself under control. But it’s so HARD, Miss Angela. Please have mercy.
• Angela, what can I say? You are an invigorating mountain stream, cool, refreshing, bubbly and full of life! You restore the spring in my step and you satisfy like none other! I feel honored that you will take the time out of your day to talk with me and to make my day brighter with your laugh. Gentlemen, there are PSO’s and then there is Angela! In a class of her own, she can rock your world, or rock you to sleep, and she knows which one you need, on any given day. She is amazing, and she stands alone as the best of the best!
• THIS LADY WILL LEAVE YOU SHAKING IN YOUR SWEAT AS YOU GOBBLE UP SPUNK AND YOUR BALLS ARE DRAINED LIKE NEVER BEFORE.
• We can only wish that 1% of the girls here were as creative as Angela.
• Ms. St. Lawrence serves up custom-designed, one-of-a-kind fetish and kink each and every time. If you’re looking for smart edge play administered by a wickedly sweet Mistress: CALL NOW!
• Another wild ride on the dark side with the absolute Queen of Denial. She makes me ache and beg and plead, the entire time giggling or whispering dirty words into my ears and making me do the filthiest deeds imaginable. I belong to Her. Her name is tattooed across my heart and my *CENSORED*
• The best decision I ever made was to call this Magnificent Goddess. Our first call she took time to get to know me–both as a person and as a deviant, dirty little boy. Every interaction is bliss. Every encounter better than the last. She is smart, sexy and beautiful. I worship her.
• Hardcore sissification, objectification and humiliation in the hands of a woman who absolutely knows what she is doing and does it like no other. There is nobody who can get inside of your head like Angela.
• Mistress is a Supreme Ruler of men. She stoked my most depraved submissive desires.
• Absolute perfection. No matter where I tell her my head is (objectification, feminization, etc) she steps up to the plate and delivers a home run….EVERY TIME!

Oh, and then there is this rather creative poetic review:

Angie St. Lawrence is her name
Oral fantasy is her game

If your sex life’s a bleak November
She’s human Viagra for your member

Like to dress in women’s clothes?
Be abused? Suck a nose?

Mince about? Like a sissy?
Better call this sexy Missy!

Is your pleasure cunnilingus?
Or a dildo in your dingus?

Care to suck a zoo gorilla?
Or just do it straight vanilla?

Ever try it hot and dental?
Angie’ll do you; she’s non-judgmental

Got a thing for women’s toes?
Whips and chains? Or pantyhose?

It doesn’t matter. What’s your pleasure?
Just call Angie, at your leisure

Some PSOs aren’t real smart
Angie’s different. And she’s got heart!

(can you feel me smiling?)

xo, Angela

Happy New Year!

And Happy New Year Super SALE!

Tonight and Tomorrow

All calls are 1/2 Price

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As many of you know, New Years Eve is my least favorite holiday. Maybe you hate it, maybe you’re just bored with the whole thing, or maybe you like to party like it’s 1999.

Whatever!

Call drunk, call sober. Call to shoot the breeze, call to get kinky. Call just to ask questions or hang out. New callers welcome and cherished regulars already know how good it is. *bats eyelashes*

If you haven’t called before and want to know more about me, check out my FREE erotic stories at Blistered Lips and every one of my live phone lines at NiteFlirt.

xo, Angela

Yes, darlings, I do have a Holiday Wish List!

Via Miss Rat of Hentai Foundry

Want to talk to with real deal?

~ Transgender, Shemale, Girlyboy Phone Sex ~

Lady Sheila

YOUR SEXY SHEMALE COUGAR WAITING TO PLAY

Learn more about me at NiteFlirt

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Joi

PRETTY GIRL WITH SOMETHING EXTRA

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or CALL 1-800-863-5478 EXT. 9526-305

Transexual Victoria

NASTY HOT TRANNY FOR BITCH BOYS

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Ya know, when I worked for a Phone Sex Service in College one of my “characters” was a sizzling hot shemale named Tori.  When I first started my own business I was glad to see her go.  But now I miss her oh-so-very-much.  Guys would wait in line to talk with her:  Romantics, Size Queens, Cross-Dressers, the Hard Core Subs, the Bi-curious and even one lone guy who –believe it or not — preferred Tori to have a small penis.  And they came (pun intended) in every flavor, including a physician, a couple football celebrities, attorneys (of course), business owners, and my favorites — soldier boys.  Some were single; but most were either married or in a long term relationship with a woman.  My point being that you just never ever know what secretly turns a guy on.  And sometimes not so secretly.

Even now, I do a lot of fantasies revolving around SheMales.  Mainly the guys will call either my Macho Sissy or Indecent Exposure line.  But my sweet little wanna be cocksuckers certainly do show up for a little bit of TG Phone Sex on all my lines.  And it’s so much fun when they do.

So call one of the lovely ladies above or CALL ME to talk dirty with or talk dirty about The Girl With The Magical Cock.  One way or the other, I’m pretty sure you’ll be either sucking cock, serving cock, swallowing or something even naughtier.

I mean, well, that IS what Transgender Phone Sex is all about. *wink*

xo, Angela

Oh the Slings & Arrows …… of a mother effin Bitch Boy.

If you’re the sort who appreciates a bit of alliteration, we could call this particular rant post “The Incredible Case of the Curiously Obtuse Cretin.”  If we’re talking in soundbites, then our title might well be  “When Good Phone Sex Goes Wrong.”  Either way, in the instance of  FemDom Phone Sex, if something goes wrong, the caller is by default fully & inexcusably culpable.  Even though I did know better.

I knew better than he did — I did, I did, I did — that there was absolutely no way in hell a conversation betwixt the two of us could provide the “happy ending” he was seeking — the Utopian Sexual Nirvana he was hunting down like the Holy Grail, The Lost City of Atlantis, the mother-fucking Golden Fleece, Shangri-La, The Arc of the Covenant.   He was Ponce de León, looking for the goddamn Fountain of Youth (who thought, BTW, it would cure his impotence … oh the irony).  Looking for a long, long time … call after call, girl after girl. I know this, because he told me so.  And because I happen to have Super Powers.

I tried to tell him; really, really I did. Because I did know better than he did.  My spank-dar, which is hardly ever wrong, was screeching Danger, Will Robinson, um, I mean Ms. Angela. Danger.  (I said “hardly ever” not “never ever” wrong.  There’s going to be some problems when you buy your parts from a 20th Century Fox back lot fire sale.)

And it is, after all, right there in the sidebar (Quick Start Guidelines) on page 4 of  “The Phone Sex Operator’s Official Handbook” that I am going to write by the end of the year might get around to writing someday: #17. NEVER trust the words of a man with an erect penis in his fist.   His palms are sweaty and he can’t help but be one oily son-of-a-bitch.

Unfortunately, against all my better instincts and despite the creep creep creep of my trusty smarm-o-meter, I swallowed his bullshit, smooth lies and bracing promises, finally agreeing to do a Fantasy Phone Sex call with him.  Of course it didn’t work out and Mr. Smarm has nobody to blame but himself.  I told him the truth and he insisted on telling me different.

So let’s start with the email I received post-call.  In fact, so post-call that it was TWO WEEKS after our Role Play Fantasy via the phone when I finally heard from Mr. Smarm.  Don’t worry; by the end this will all make sense.  Of course, I could be wrong, and I’m sure if you had the chance to ask Mr. Smarm, he’d be the first to tell you so.  But this is MY blog and we’re not asking Mr. Smarm a damn thing.

Mr. Smarm’s email to me:

Hey Angela:

Thought I’d take the time to comment on our last conversation…

Well, I would be lying if I said that I was satisfied. It seemed that I caught you at a bad time and you really weren’t focused on our session. Also, I think that you [were] somewhat intimidated by me, and I really wish that wasn’t the case. I mean, I think that you felt like you had [to] think up something “extravagant” for me, but believe me – you don’t have to.

I wouldn’t mind giving it one more try, but I would like to catch you in a more relaxed/focused mood, so you can do your best work (and I know that you have an excellent imagination).

Mr. Smarm

So I guess the question is …

…  does Mr. Smarm deserve a response?  My usual policy when dealing with numbskulls is very simple:  Don’t.

The thing is that despite the fact that two weeks had passed, despite the abrupt end to the call, despite the absence of a gentlemanly follow up email, I was actually glad to see Mr. Smarm’s (TWO WEEKS LATE) email.  Because even the day of “the call” I’d given him the benefit of the doubt, allowing that there may have some glitch that disconnected us.  After all we’d already talked forty minutes at that point.  I mean, who stays on the phone for that length of time if they aren’t having fun, right?  And the platform I utilize for my calls had been experiencing some recurring issues.  So, yes, I was glad.  Until I opened and read his email, that is.

So …

I was glad, I was sad, and then I was mad.

Conclusion?  No way in hell does this jerk deserve another moment of my once undivided attention and always valuable time.  I adhere to the Fool Me Once, Twice Doctrine.  Logical and less messy.  Therefore, I will not be sending a return email to Mr. Smarm.  Unfortunately for you, I already wrote my response.

I’m sure you won’t mind:

Dear Mr. Smarm:

I was quite delighted today to see your email in my inbox.  That is until I opened and read it.   Of course, when I read your email, I went from pleasure to hurt in a heartbeat.

 Now I am fucking pissed.

Because I poured my heart and soul into that fantasy. Once we were off and running, the world around me dissolved into that office where I — and eventually Jennifer (remember the receptionist?) — accused you, abused you and used you.

And I did one helluva job.

Yes, at first, I was nervous, even a bit reluctant. Because, whenever a phone sex caller starts the conversation with, “I’ve experimented with phone sex for years and most girls just can’t get it right” … well, it just doesn’t bode well.

… at your urging, I DID RELAX and took a leap of faith that you were true blue and meant what you said.  Obviously — as we now know two weeks too late later — you aren’t and you didn’t.

Otherwise, you would have taken that leap with me and enjoyed the flight. You would have appreciated the rich details and well-drawn setting into which I grounded the fantasy (the picture window from my office; your desk right outside my door; my pencil skirt, sheer black stockings and garters juxtaposed against barely legal Jennifer’s sundress and wedge heels). You would have been savvy enough to realize that this girl on the other side of the phone was having the time of her life.   That she was firing on all pistons, creating our own special world and having a fucking blast doing it.

And, by the way, you should have answered truthfully when I took those moments during the call to pause and ask if the direction I was taking was doing it for you.  Instead you lied.  And now look where we are.

As for your statement that “I think that you felt like you had to think up something “extravagant” for me …”  Huh?  What? Do you not get what I do? Have you not read my FREE Phone Sex Preview Stories? There’s plenty of samples of my work, so that New Callers know exactly what I’m about.  Unlike you, I don’t pull any punches.

 Have you ever entertained the possibility, Sir Pants-Down-a-Lot, that the problem lies with you and not me?  After all, you’re the one who’s spent a little bit less than a lifetime looking for the perfect Phone Fuck.  It has been said of me, “The way she riffs on matters sexual and otherwise, she is my white Billie Holiday, a 21st century Anais Nin with just a touch of Machiavelli.”  I could quote caller after caller, but you can read all of my Phone Sex Reviews — at your leisure, of course, when you’re taking a break from your great and almighty Phone Sex Fantasy Crusade.

I think you’re confusing “extravagance” with “virtuosity.”

And Haven’t you still been on the prowl, trying out another and another and yet another Phone Sex Girl, still looking for your Phone Sex Fix these past two weeks?   Never mind, don’t answer that.  I already know you were.  I know it for a FACT.  Remember, I have Super Powers.

I dunno, maybe you had a PSO some years ago that rocked your world and the rest of us simply pale in comparison. Maybe we’re all inept and you’re just a customer getting poor service from every single one of us.  It must be a tough to be a Martyr for Phone Sex, traversing the minefield of Broken Wet Dreams.

The bottom line is that I have no desire to ever speak with you again. I gave you everything I had and you trashed it.  The coup de grâce is that you actually have the balls to say that you “wouldn’t mind giving it one more try.”  Are you demented or delusional?   Which is it?

Never mind, because guess what.  I would mind.  I would mind it very much.  I’d rather spend my time with the myriad men who find me creative and perfect just the way I am.

Angela

We now return to our regularly scheduled perversion.  If you’ve lost your remote, it might be between the couch cushions or just look right here.

Whew! I don’t know about you guys, but I need a drink of water after all that.  Maybe even a Xanax.

And why is that song banging around in my head?  Oh no I’ve said too much, I haven’t said enough … tra la la.   That’s me in the corner, that’s me in the spotlight.  Losing my religion … tra la la.