Listen, you sad pathetic loser, I am going to tell you what’s up.

I know how you watch me. In fact, everyone knows you watch me. They see exactly how you drool over my curvy body. When you check out my ass, your cock gets hard. Plus, you drool whenever you stare at my 32 DDs! Honestly, you aren’t secretive about it. 

Honestly, let’s be real. I know you want me. But, I would never debase myself to go out with someone like you. I am a high-maintenance girl. I dye my hair once a month and I need my tan. Plus, my style is Urban Decay. Also, I love my Louboutins. Sure, I have to pay extra to ship it to where I live. But that means I love it even more

And you? 

You lamentable fool. Really, you sad pathetic loser. How could you ever think you were a match for me? 


I never want my perfect pink pussy near what you call genitals.

That’s why you need other measures to approach me. Especially when you want to know what I’m like in bed. 

Other measures to see what my pussy holds, what it can do.

I sit on my bed with my legs spread. My pretty pink pussy calls to you from beneath my tight black dress. 

Where are you? 

Deep in the closet. However, I would never allow you access to my house. Of course, you snuck your way in. But, you have the closet open just a peak, just a little bit to watch me like the sad pathetic loser you are. Of course, you already know this. It’s why you’ve never bothered to ask a goddess like me out. 

Instead, our reality is pitiful. You hide in my closet while a real man comes over to my bed. You know he plans to fuck me. And though it stings that another man’s cock will be inside me, at least you get to watch me orgasm. Your piteous cock.

Right? Is your useless dick hard yet?

Or does a sad pathetic loser like you wish for a closer seat?

You might want me to give you a sissy boy dress-up time, just to stand next to my bull. I bet you crave to see just how big his cock is. Or maybe you want to see how wide he stretches me. 

Either way, when you watch my face flush in ecstasy, you know you cannot compare. You, sad pathetic loser, are nothing like the man fucking me now. Those cries I give out, those moans, little hitches of breath- they are for him. You are like a vulture, taking scraps for yourself as you jerk your useless cock in your hand. 

My hand grasps onto the back of my partner’s back, nails digging into his skin. Instantly, you imagine what that would feel like for yourself. I throw my head back and the image burns into your skull. 

In fact, you never forget what my orgasms are like, you sad pathetic loser. Forever, you remember my face, my voice, and even the scent that wafted up into the closet. 

And luckily for me, I never touch your dick.

Wouldn’t you rather have a personal conversation than just reading my stories? Treat yourself and call me for one on one humiliation phone sex

sad pathetic loser