Wet & Ready in Las Vegas

I sit down at my terminal and all I can think about his him. The way he smells, the feel of his big strong hands grazing over my body. I know he’s going to call tonight. I can feel it in my bones. We haven’t spoken since our little encounter, but I know he misses me. I can feel that too. I go live.

Carmen the Latina Lover is live and ready for action. Soon, my line is ringing and my heart thuds in my chest. I suck in a breath and let it out slowly before answering the line. I put as much sex as I can on my usual opening, “Hello, Papi.”

But it’s not him. It’s some mouthbreather from Baltimore, whose high-pitched, nasal voice makes my temples throb. I act out his little fantasy of sliding his dick between my breasts while my mind is on another man. Him. And the way he ruled over my body in his hotel room. “Yeah, baby I’m fucking those tits,” the mouthbreather rasps in my ear and I roll my eyes. 

“Oh yeah, Papi,” I urge him on, hoping he’ll finish soon so I can move on to my next call. Then my stomach turns a flip. What if I already missed his call? I lift my head over the wall of my cubicle and glance around the room at all the other women, phone sex operators, taking calls like me. What if one of them was on the phone with him right now? I lower my head with a huff that comes out louder than expected, but it only turns mouthbreather on. 

“You like that, don’t you? You nasty, bitch,” his nasal voice cuts into my eardrums. Guys like mouthbreather are the reason why I hate this job so much. If he faced me in the street he would never utter those words to me. But with him, it’s different. He delivers on every promise. He showed me only a few weeks ago when he made my toes curl. 

I put on my old gray jacket, the industrial air conditioners causing my skin to pimple and my nipples to harden and strain against the fabric of my ratty t-shirt. I should have worn a bra, I think to myself as mouthbreather, keeps jerking himself off on the other end of the line. He finishes and I disconnect the call and immediately answer another. It’s not my man again. This one says he’s from Tampa, and by the slight drawl in his tone, he may be telling the truth. He’s not as bad as the first, but it’s not him. Luckily, he cums fast as I describe how I would suck his dick.

A few hours pass and I start to become nervous. My shift ends soon, and I still haven’t heard from him. What if he doesn’t call? Was he not impressed by my skills? Nonsense. He had to be. I remember the way he moaned my name as I took him fully to the back of my throat. My panties dampen at the thought of him, his strong hands gripping my hair. His thick cock pressed against my lips – both pair. I shudder as all those memories come flooding back. 

“Hello, Papi. You’re on with Carmen. How can I serve you, daddy?” I answer the next call in a funk. My self-esteem damaged by the man who fucked my brains out and now who refuses to call. 

“Hello, Monica,” he answers saying my real name. I hiss in a breath, not expecting to hear the voice that I’d been waiting for all these hours. “How have you been?”

“Fine,” is all I can manage past the lump in my throat, which is now suddenly dry. I reach for my bottle of water and take a quick sip.

“I still have your underwear. I smell them every day,” his sexy voice replies and I almost choke on my sip of water. My chest burns as I force the water down.

“Is that so? And just what are you doing, when you’re perving over my dirty underwear?” I ask as sexy as I can. 

“Thinking about fucking that tight, wet pussy of yours. I swear, sometimes I can still feel you gripping my cock as I lie in bed awake at night.” I gulp down a second lump as a warmth spreads between my legs.

“Well, when will I see you again?” I ask and then instantly regret it. It makes me sound desperate and clingy. 

“That will depend on when you’re ready to accept my offer,” he replies, and butterflies take over my stomach. So, he was serious about the courtesan thing. 

“I’m not sure I can do that. I have obligations that keep me tied to Las Vegas,” I tell him. 

“That is no longer a problem. I’ve been put in charge of my corporation’s expansion project. Looks like I’ll be moving to Vegas soon.” 

My heart damn near stops as I sit frozen, water bottle clutched tight in my hand. “You’re moving here? I stammer.

“Yes. And I can’t wait to taste that sweet pussy of yours once again. I think I’ll make it my usual breakfast.” I squirm in my seat and my muscles start to contract at the thought of his tongue lapping at me. My mouth is frozen, and I can’t find words. “You’re thinking about me eating you out, aren’t you?” He asks. And I nod like he can see me. 

“I am,” I finally say before licking my dry lips. 

“Good. After I’m done with you. I’ll be the only thing you’ll ever think about.” I let out a steadying breath, knowing just what he means. And that’s what scares me most about accepting his little offer. I don’t want to become consumed by any man. Especially one like him. “Touch yourself,” his command snaps me from my thoughts. 

“Excuse me?” I whisper while clutching the mouthpiece of my headset closer to my lips. 

“You heard me, Monica. I want you to touch that pretty pussy of yours. I’ll bet good money it’s already wet for me.” 

“I can’t. You know I’m at work,” I say as my cheeks redden with heat.

Wet & Ready in Las Vegas Kinktober Day 20 Dirty Talk

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“I don’t give a flying fuck where you are. I want to hear you cum,” his sexy voice takes on a fierce, authoritative tone and I shudder. My already hard nipples are straining against my faded Motley Crew t-shirt and I’m thankful I wore panties today.


“My coworkers may hear me,” I whisper knowing damn well they don’t care. All we do is fake moans and screams. But my screams will be different. They will be real. 


“Good. Let them hear me make you cum.” I relax against the back of the chair and unbutton my jeans before sliding a hand inside my cotton panties. For some reason, I wish I’d worn sexier underwear. I know he can’t see them, but it only seems right. 


“Okay,” I say as I slid two fingers between my cleft. 


“I know that pussy is already dripping.”


“I’m always dripping for you, Papi,” I say as I delve a finger into my wetness. I hear him suck in a breath at my reply and I imagine him stroking himself on the other end. 


“You know, your pussy fits so tight and perfect around my dick. It’s like you were made for my cock.” I want to say something to urge him on, but again, I’m at a loss for words. “Are you playing with your pussy?” he ask me and I nod before shaking my head.


“Yes, Papi.”


“How are you touching yourself?”


“I’m rubbing two fingers over my clit,” I explain my actions.


“Good. I can’t wait to suck on it again. I like the way you squirm when I flick it with my tongue.” This time I moan. I can’t help it. Both my mind and my body recall the sensation of his fat, hot tongue licking and teasing me. “That’s right, baby. The next time I see you, I’m going to suck that pussy until you’re begging me to stop.” 


“Yeah right,” I scoff. “What woman in her right mind would stop you from doing that?”


“Trust me. You have no idea what I’m capable of.” His words cause shivers to radiate down my spine.


“Oh, yeah?” I ask as I increase my pace, wishing that it were his fingers and not mine down there. 


“Yes, Monica. That wonderful day we spent together last month was only a preview of what I can do.”


“So, why didn’t you show me then?” I ask, all sass and true Texas attitude.

“Because I didn’t want to scare you away.” His answer makes my entire body tremble, but my heart constricts in my chest. What did that mean?

“I don’t scare easily,” I answer, trying to maintain my sexiness. He’s quiet, and for a moment, I think I’ve said something wrong.

“I like a challenge, Monica.” His sexy voice makes my toes curl and I bite down on my bottom lip. I feel my muscles start to contract. I’m close. Oh, so close. This man and sexy voice and dirty words are driving me wild. “Rub that clit faster and tell me what you want me to do to you.” I’m overtaken by nervousness at his request. Callers usually didn’t care about our wants. It was all about them. 

“I don’t know what to say,” I manage.

“Describe how you want me to make you cum the next time I see you.” I close my eyes tight and go back to our tryst in his hotel room. The man was an animal.

“I want you to fuck me hard, rough, and fast,” I say as I do the same to my clit, which is swollen and throbbing. “I like it rough.” He’s silent again, but not because I said something wrong. He’s turned on. I know it. I can tell by his ragged breathing loud in my ear. 

“Don’t play with me, Monica. I will hurt you.”

“Oh, you’re going to hurt me, daddy?” I tease as I insert a finger inside, then another.

“Woman, I’m a fucking savage when uncaged,” he growls and my muscles contract against my fingers. I’m working myself good as I imagine his thick, hard cock pounding into me. I slide down in my seat until my ass is almost hanging off the edge and stuff my other hand into my pants. “You have no idea the things I want to do to you. No, the things I am going to do to you,” his voice rasps in my ear. Oh god, yes, I think to myself as I bite down on my bottom lip. Unlike the other callers, I know he’s more than able to back up his promises.

“Just what are you going to do?” I ask needing so desperately to know.

“Well, I’ll start by making sure you’re absolutely relaxed. You’ll need to be relaxed so I won’t hurt you,” Yes. Hurt me, daddy,” I think to myself wanting to experience everything he’s promising. “A nice dinner, some great wine, and then a hot bubble bath. Once your belly is full and your body relaxed, I’ll proceed to phase two.

“Which is?” I mutter.

“Eating that sweet pussy. I’m going to take my time. I’m going to lick every inch of you. Oh, and I suck toes too. There’s no part of your body my tongue won’t touch.” I don’t say anything. I can’t. I’m too busy rubbing my clit raw and thinking about the handsome man talking dirty to me. “Did you know that there were over a hundred different ways to eat pussy?” He asks and I suck in a breath. “I plan on doing them all. To you.” I moan again as I think about that tongue of his and how he works it so well.

“Then what will you do?” I ask on the verge of climax. 

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‘Then, it’s time for fucking, sweetheart. I know we’ve had sex before, but not how I like it. I want to fuck you raw. I want to feel that tight, wet pussy gripping my dick.” I moan again, this time loud. But I don’t care. I just want to cum and he’s about to take me there. Again. “I love the way you take my dick,” he says to me and I’m glad I’m sitting down because my knees go weak.

“And just how do I take it?” 

“Like the fucking sexual dynamo that you are.” 

My mind goes there – envisioning our next encounter. I know it’s going to be great. I’ve already tasted a sample and the flavor of him still lingers on my tongue. My fingers move fast over my clit, which pulsates beneath my touch. My breaths come out in rushed gasps and my teeth cut into my bottom lip. The warmth present in my belly is now a full-on heat, that spreads down to between my thighs. “You want it. Don’t you, Monica? You want me.” I would usually be pissed by a man with so much bravado, but with him he’s different. He’s told me what to expect and I know it’s coming. “I want to hear you cum, Monica. Cum for me baby,” he commands. I feel myself start to fall to the sound of his ragged breathing.

I envision him standing, facing me with his hard dick in his hands. His eyes are on me as I sit on the bed, legs parted, waiting for him. When he enters me in my daydream, it’s like I can feel it happening, as I thrust the fingers of my other hand deeper inside. In mere seconds, I picture everything. Him fucking me hard from behind, my ass cheeks slapping against him. His manly hands around my throat as he drives into me with my legs hooked over his shoulders. Me deep-throating his cock. Him spitting and slapping my face. Pulling my hair.

I see it all. Every nasty, depraved act that fills my PornHub history – I imagine him doing those things to me. My walls clench my fingers, but my focus is on my clit. I grind my fingers in a circular motion until I’m there. And I cum picturing him doing the same inside of me, his thickness pulsating and dumping into me. I cry out loud and almost scream out his real name, but I grit my teeth as I shake and tremble in my seat.

“You sound beautiful. I wish I was there to lick the cum from your fingers,” he tells me and I almost come again. I glide down from the clouds to him whispering sweet nothings in my ear. Suddenly, I’m aware that I’m at work. Surrounded by a dozen watchful eyes and listening ears. I remove my wet sticky fingers and use the tissues I keep stashed in my bottom drawer to wipe them clean. “You’re already mine. You know that right, Monica?” He tells me. I know I should try and deny it, but he’s right. I know with all my heart that when he relocates, I’ll be here – wet and ready in Las Vegas.

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