“Open your mouth.”

That was the first thing I said after he told me he had just finished. No soft greeting, no warm-up. Just those three words and the quiet expectation that he would obey. CEI phone sex with me never starts with permission. It starts with the assumption that the mess is already mine to direct.

I made him describe it — how much there was, how it felt cooling on his stomach, the exact shade of it. Then I told him to scoop it up with two fingers and hold it in front of his face while I talked. I wanted him looking at it the whole time I explained what was going to happen next. The longer I kept him there, the quieter his breathing got. That’s when the real fun begins.

Taste what you made for me.

I walked him through it slowly. First the tip of the tongue, just enough to get the salt. Then more. I made him tell me how it tasted while I cooed and praised him like he was doing something precious. Every time he hesitated I got softer and meaner at the same time. “You’re already this far, baby. Don’t waste it. Mommy’s little cum slut doesn’t waste anything.” The words landed differently because my voice stayed sweet. That’s the part that breaks them.

Some calls I keep it simple and make him clean every drop while I listen. Other calls I get creative. I tell him to spread it across his lips like gloss and leave it there while we keep talking. Or I make him hold it on his tongue and answer questions without swallowing until I give the order. The longer the instruction, the wetter I get. There’s something about a man following cum eating instructions in real time that feels more intimate than almost anything else.

I stayed with him through the whole thing — the first reluctant lick, the moment he stopped fighting it, the soft broken sound he made when he finally swallowed. I told him how pretty he looked like that, how good he was being, how proud I was of my filthy little blonde fuck toy for doing exactly what he was told. The praise is part of the ritual. Without it the humiliation just sits there. With it, it sinks in.

By the time we finished he was quiet and floaty and still a little sticky. I kept him on the line a few extra minutes, voice soft again, telling him he could rinse only when I said so. That’s how I like to end CEI phone sex — still in control of the aftermath, still owning the mess he made.

I love this. The obedience, the taste, the way a few clear instructions can turn a regular orgasm into something that belongs to me. If you want CEI phone sex that feels filthy and intimate and completely directed, visit me at kinks-n-teasephonesex.com/samantha and open your mouth when I tell you to.