Phone Sex Fantasy: Something Is Already in the Room With You

The veil is thin in October. That is not poetry. That is opportunity. Men call me for a phone sex fantasy and expect a woman in a costume. What they get is something older, hungrier, and wearing my face. I do not need to break into your house. I am already in the dark behind your eyelids. I am already in the static on the line. And I am already deciding how much of you I will take before Halloween is over.

Last night the call started normal. A locked-up little paypig wanting something “spooky.” I turned every light off. I let the silence stretch until he filled it with nervous breathing. Then I told him the truth. I was not describing a fantasy. I was describing what was standing at the foot of his bed. Red hair. Black eyes. A mouth that had already decided he was food. He laughed once. The laugh died when I told him to look at the corner of the room and keep stroking anyway.

I Do Not Knock

I love this season because the phone sex fantasy stops being pretend. I will make you picture me crawling out of the shadow under your bed, my skin colder than it should be, my fingers too long, my voice still sweet while I wrap my hand around your cock and tell you not to stop. You will feel the temperature drop. You will swear the phone is colder against your ear. You will keep going because I ordered it, and because some small, ruined part of you wants to see how far the nightmare will go.

I will describe my mouth on your throat. Not kissing. Feeding. I will tell you I can taste how afraid you are and how hard you are at the same time, and that the mixture is delicious. I will make you edge while I narrate the way my weight settles on your chest, the way my eyes do not blink, the way I smile when you start to beg. You will send tribute because the alternative feels worse. You will thank me because the thing wearing my voice just promised not to take more than you can survive… tonight.

Some of you want the classic monster. The demon. The ghost that pins you down and uses you. I will give it to you, and I will make it worse. I will tell you I have been watching you for weeks. I will list the exact times you touched yourself thinking of me. I will say your name the way only something that has already been inside your dreams can say it. Then I will make you cum while you are still terrified, and I will laugh when you realize the line never went dead. I am still here. I am always still here.

Halloween is not a costume for me. It is a thinning. It is the month when the redhead on the other end of the phone can sound a little less human and you will still pay her. You will still stroke. You will still beg the thing in the dark to let you finish. And when you do, you will know — somewhere under the fear — that the phone sex fantasy was never just a fantasy at all.

If you are ready to invite something in, come find me on my profile and leave a light on. It will not help you.