CEI phone sex is what I scheduled the minute the cheating stopped being a theory.

I am Traci. I run a shift for a living, so I notice when a man is late in a way that has nothing to do with traffic. His phone was face-up on the dresser. A girl’s name. A photo he should not have had. Cheating, neat as a calendar alert. I did not cry into a pillow. I locked the bedroom door, sat on the edge of the bed in a pale blue slip, and waited for him to come home and lie.

He tried. I held the phone up and smiled the way I smile when a schedule breaks and I already know the fix. “You can keep cheating, or you can spend today doing exactly what I say. Clothes off. Hands where I can see them. You are going to masturbate, and you are going to eat it. All day.” His face went hot. His cock still got hard. Cheating had not made him loyal. It had made him easy to corner.

By late morning he was sore and still half hard. I had errands. That is when CEI phone sex took the shift. I sat in the car with the windows up and called him. Phone sex, but not the sweet girlfriend kind. I told him to get the lube, put me on speaker, and stroke until he was shaking. “You cheated. You can eat. Those are the only two facts that matter today.” He whimpered that he had already come. I laughed. “Then you will come smaller and nastier. I want to hear it.”

CEI phone sex is intimate in a mean way. I could hear his fist. I could hear him get close and try to bargain. I did not bargain. I counted him down and made him describe the taste when he licked his palm. Salty. Bitter. His. He said he was sorry between swallows. I told him sorry was a word and cum was proof, so keep stroking. Phone sex let me run the house from a parking lot. Cheating had been his secret. This was mine, and it was on a timer.

Noon, I came home and found him on the couch, cock flushed, a little pool already in his hand because he had been edging for me like a good ruined boyfriend. I took the phone away so he could not hide in a call. “Open.” He ate it while I watched, throat working, eyes wet. I kissed his forehead after, pretty and cruel, and told him the next one was before dinner. Cheating does not get a single dramatic scene in my house. It gets a schedule.

Afternoon was slower. I made him kneel in the bathroom light, baby-blue towel under his knees, and jerk off while I leaned on the sink and talked about the girl on his phone. How she did not have to watch this. How I did, because I caught him, and catching him meant I owned the ending. He came weaker that time, panting, and still pushed his fingers into his mouth when I pointed. CEI until his stomach flipped. I rubbed his hair and called him sweet while he swallowed. The sweetness was not forgiveness. It was the girlfriend experience with the lock turned.

Evening, I put him back on the phone even though I was in the next room. I wanted CEI phone sex in his ear while I listened through the door. My voice, low, telling him to stroke for the last load of the day and not to spill a drop on the sheets. He came groaning my name, not hers. I walked in while it was still on his tongue. “Show me.” He did. Empty mouth. Red face. Cock finally soft. I took the phone, ended the call with myself, and told him tomorrow we could talk about whether the cheating was over. Tonight the only meal he had earned was his own.

I still use that day when a man wants to be managed. Phone sex is the clipboard. CEI phone sex is the rule written in the prettiest ink I own: stroke, catch it, eat it, say thank you. If you have ever needed someone calm to catch you cheating on your own pride, you already know how soft my voice can be while I make you swallow.

♡

The rest of the shift is here:
https://kinks-n-teasephonesex.com/traci_knt/