Category Archive: Fantasy phone sex

I’ve been leaning against this damp brick wall behind the strip club all night, just waiting for someone with a thick wallet and a hungry look to catch my eye. Dirty Talking Women like me are the only reason guys like you wander into these dark, oil stained alleys searching for a thrill that feels like a beautiful mistake. 

I’m the best hooker in this zip code, and the moment you grabbed my waist, I knew I was going to be your personal slut for the night. You didn’t even try to haggle; you just gripped my hip and started leading me toward that flickering “Vacancy” sign across the street.

The hotel room smells like cheap lemon bleach and old cigarette smoke, but the moment the door clicks shut, the atmosphere shifts into something electric. I don’t even let you take off your coat before I’m pressing you against the peeling wallpaper, my silk slip riding up high as I grind my hips into yours.

 My lips are stained with cherry gloss and the lingering heat of a stolen drink, and I start whispering the filthiest things you’ve ever heard into the shell of your ear. I’m not just a body you bought for an hour; I’m a high-speed collision of every smutty fantasy you’ve ever tried to hide from the world.

I push you back onto the creaky mattress, and the springs groan under your weight as I crawl over you like a cat. I’m not interested in being gentle or polite; I want to see how much of my mouth you can take before you absolutely lose your mind. I start describing exactly how I’m going to use my tongue, my hands, and my heat to drain every single drop of tension out of your body. 

My voice drops to a low, gravelly hum, thick with the kind of words that make your heart race and your skin flush a deep, desperate red. You’re clutching the thin, scratchy bedspread so hard your knuckles are turning white, and I haven’t even unzipped your pants yet. I can feel you pulsing beneath me, a frantic rhythm that tells me my voice is doing more damage than any touch ever could. 

I tell you how much I love the way you’re shaking, how I want to feel you come apart while I’m still telling you exactly how much of a mess you are. I’m your personal ruin, a girl who knows exactly which buttons to press to make a grown man whimper. By the time I finally give you what you’re begging for, your mind is already a complete blur of static and heat. 

You won’t last more than a few minutes with me talking this dirty, but I promise those will be the most intense minutes of your entire life. When you finally boil over, shaking and breathless, I’ll just smirk and whisper one last filthy secret against your skin.

Alyssa

(855) 733-5746 ext 4838