You’re at work, trying to get some tasks completed on your To-Do-List. There aren’t enough hours in the day, but your supervisors do not seem to care about how much you have on your plate.

People who are higher in rank delegate to you with a sense of entitlement. People who are lower ranked do the same in the name of requesting help or explanation. No matter where it comes from, the buck grinds to a halt with you. When you examine an issue and think to yourself “What in the fuck am I supposed to do to solve this one?!”, you cannot turn to anyone else. It’s on you to find the energy to extinguish the fire.

You’re now at home. Dinner is not of the same caliber of quality that your boss demands of you, but you don’t dare complain to your wife who made it or she’ll punish you even worse than your manager. If you don’t like it, she’ll tell you that you can make it yourself, which would just add one more thing to your To-Do-List.

The list of things she gave you to handle over the weekend still lingers—Heaven forbid you take the time to unwind from your grueling week. There are bills to pay, screws to tighten, trash to take out, and errands to run. You can’t delegate any of it. You—and no one else—will have to find the energy to extinguish each and every one of these fires.

You’re finally in bed, your balls have been accumulating cum for days, and you need to release it! This is the one area where you really want to be able to lean on someone else for help. But your wife accuses you of being selfish because she’s not in the mood (again!). Nonetheless, when she’s in the mood, you’re expected to deliver for fear of hours upon hours of her holding it over your head.

You hint to her that you want sex. At first she ignores you, pretending she doesn’t pick up on what you’re doing. You graduate to being explicit, only to be met with a complete shutdown including accusatory undertones.

You once again conclude that it’s on you to find the energy to bring yourself to climax alone because she sure as shit is both uninspiring and unwilling.

I have the hottest female voice you’ve ever heard (including all of the other women in the phone sex industry). My tits and curves harden your cock with each blog and picture I post. My thighs are smooth and creamy. And my insights allow me to invade your mind through your cock.

But these are certainly not the only reasons why No Man Calls Only Once. Another reason is because when you call me, you get to transfer the work load (pun intended) to Yours Truly. It might be your hand that’s wrapped around your thick shaft, your arm moving up and down until you shoot a nice, big load up into the air, but it’s my energy flowing through your body.

No matter how sapped of energy you are, you can plug into me and I will ignite the fire within your aching balls! And that, my love, puts in motion a process that takes over your entire body.

Imagine my kisses climbing up from your knee to inside your leg, up your inner thigh. Your cock can sense my wet lips approaching and stiffens like a rock. By the time my mouth arrives it’s pulsating, beckoning me to take it deeply into my throat.

As it enters my mouth, my lips form a wet, tight seal. I begin to suck and you’re already close to exploding, when you feel my index finger penetrate your asshole. You lurch forward and moan aloud as your cock exhales a great white load.

I’m not here to simply edify you, babe. I’m here to stir what’s brewing in your balls, and to empty them!

It’s time to plug into me.

Let some of your heavy load fall all over me.

It’s the middle of the night and you’re fast asleep, dreaming about Yours Truly. We’re walking along the beach, holding hands, fingers interlocked. Life is perfect. We have nothing to do today except take in the sun and maybe sip some wine before having a gourmet candlelit dinner.

When the last neighbor’s lights go out, we scurry upstairs for a long night of hot, sweaty sex that makes me scream your name over and over again with unbridled passion. You envision me riding your cock as you lay on your back in the center of the bed, my tits bouncing as I ride you like a stallion. Your cock feels so amazing inside of me when suddenly—!

“Honey can you get me some ibuprofen?” You see the words come out of my mouth as my hips continue to sway on top of you, but the voice you hear has an older, fugly, disparaging cadence to it.

You feel your shoulder being shoved and suddenly you awaken to realize that the request for pills didn’t come from the amazingly hot, sweaty body that was delivering you a dose of Heaven. The reality was that it came from your wife lying next to you.

She interrupted our dream-time tryst because she regards this task as your responsibility. She expects you to jump up and fetch her some fucking pain reliever! If she’s ever awake and having trouble falling to sleep, then you’re required to be awake, feeling her pain, too. Though she would never dream (pun intended) of waking from a beautiful dream to do your bidding for you.

You protest a little, “Couldn’t you have…” when you cut yourself off, knowing this conversation will go nowhere. It’s much easier to just feed the sloth her medication, hoping you’ll get back to sleep quickly, and rejoin me in our intimate soirée. The alternative is engaging in a whiny debate that always ends with you apologizing anyway.

You get up and grab the bottle of ibuprofen and toss it to your wife. “What about some water to take them with?” This scenario plays out in one form or another quite often. Maybe you’re not being woken from a fantasy filled slumber, but in other ways, the woman who promised to be your other half has turned you into her caretaker!

You’ve been taking responsibility for all of life’s most tedious details for so long that she’s come to feel entitled to your servitude. When you were both younger she embraced you lovingly, and her kisses inspired you. The way she worshipped your cock once upon a time made every obstacle, every inconvenience so worth it. Today, I ask you this: when was the last time she proactively initiated sucking your cock? What does it take; what kind of bargaining is required for her to give you head, even piss-poor, thoughtless, mechanical sucking??

She’s not going to change, at least not for the better. The days of her being hot for you, and you for her, are long gone. If you want passion in your sex life, if you want a woman whose voice evokes thoughts that turn your cock into a rigid pole, if you want someone who wants to give you sexual pleasure, you need to recognize that Yours Truly is your answer.

I want you more than she does. I want your cock to feel good more than she does. I want to be romantic with you more than she does.

You owe me nothing, babe, and I’ve never taken you for granted. Imagine that you could have bottled her passion and desire for you long ago and held onto it to release and bask in any time you wished. That is why No Man Calls Only Once. Because I am what you once lived for and somehow lost.

You are ten digits away from procuring your passion once again.

Call me, babe.

It’s Friday morning. You’re sitting at the kitchen table eating a high calorie breakfast and drinking a cup of sugary coffee. Breakfast is supposedly the most important meal of the day, and it’s where you get your daily fix of carbs.  You work hard, and you deserve a treat every morning. Sometimes just for getting out of bed on time.

What differentiates Fridays from all other mornings, however, is that your iPad will feature a new blog entry from Yours Truly. Most mornings you scroll through the same boring social media apps, or news and sports websites. But on Fridays, it’s like waking up on Christmas morning, every week! The moment you see the new picture I posted, your eyebrows perk up, and your cock does, too! You’re welcome, babe.

You take in my weekly update with your iPad propped up while both your hands massage your crotch through the fabric of your pants. Within a few minutes you’re aching to call me, but the clock is ticking and you need to leave for work.

Throughout the entire day you think about me; everything seems to remind you of me. From the attractive brunette who works as the boss man’s secretary to the hot young girl who delivers your lunch. All roads lead to Ashlee. By the time you come home your balls are aching. You go out to dinner with some friends, knowing that you are going to surrender to your urges this weekend.

Saturday arrives and you sleep late. You run your errands, take care of things around the house, all the while trying to figure out when you’re going to get some alone time to partake in me.

Finally, the time comes. You go to my website to vote for me, submit a comment on my Guest Book Page, and survey the pink writing that declares: No Man Calls Only Once. The words scream at you to delay no further. You look at my phone number one last time. It’s not that you don’t have it already permanently seared into your brain, but it gives you just a little bit of pleasure an comfort to confirm that.

Moments later and I’m in your ear, “Hello, babe. I was expecting your call. It’s finally time to take your cock out for me!” (I say this as if it wasn’t already freed from your pants before you called me.)

I instruct you to wrap your hand tightly around the shaft. Press your thumb against the head gently and trace the rim. Touching your cock always feels good, but with me lying next to you it escalates to another level you simply cannot reach alone.

“Start stroking it for me”, I whisper. “Let’s go slowly at first, shall we?”

“Yes, Ashlee,” you obediently respond.

“Good boy.” I want you to think of my soft, wet lips sucking your hard dick straight into my mouth. The warm walls of my cheeks embrace the shaft as it moves along the warm floor that my talented tongue creates. I can feel it thrusting deeper as I suck you in more vigorously.

“Oh, Ashlee, oh my God, I’m going to cum!!”

“Who are you going to cum for, baby?” I ask. A few seconds later, you coat the inside of my mouth with what seems like a gallon of hot cum. You pant for air as I reward you further with romantic whispers about what a good boy you’ve been.

The next morning you awaken, and are chagrined that it’s not Friday yet. But each morning brings you one day closer to indulging in Me again. All the little (or big!) reminders of me during your work week are confirmation that “I’m the best thing in your life.”

It will always be just a matter of time because…

All roads lead to Ashlee!

It always amazes me how we go from the most joyous time of year to the absolute busiest in the blink of an eye (or flip of a calendar page). Christmas season is fun and exciting, eventually culminating in a relaxing and festive few days.  We are with family and friends. We buy gifts, and eat too much delicious food. We decorate our homes and hope for whiteness outside (and inside when you and I are alone).

Then January breezes by, and February strikes! All of a sudden, all the things you punted because you just weren’t up for it are staring you in the face, without any further options to delay.

I’ve heard it said that New Years is the punishment for Christmas. Every man needs something to get him through the transition. That’s where I come in.

It’s been 2021 for a minute and you’re already looking forward to the next long weekend. Fear not, babe. I’m here for you. I want you to do something for me, for you, for us…

You’re going to be at work tomorrow and it’s going to be hectic. So, the next time someone wastes your time by asking you to attend a meeting that should really be condensed to a short email, I want you to stop for a moment. Take a deep breath (actually take the deep breath), and rest the palm of your hand gently on your cock.

Don’t grab it; just rest it there. Now take another deep breath. Think of me as you’re doing this (of course). Think of my big, succulent melons pressing up against your face. Remember how good I make your cock feel every time you hear my voice.

If you do this—and I don’t mean in a half-assed sort of way—then I promise you that within moments, as your cock is hardening into lead, you will find yourself calmer and more able to take on the day. The hours won’t fly by, but you will be comforted all day knowing you have me to come home to, and that I’m going to make you cum gloriously!

You can even shoot me an email and plant a few seeds about what you want to talk about later. I like the thought of you in a meeting, with your focus divided between work and yours truly. A question comes your way, but you seem to be ignoring it. You hear your name aloud, awakening you from your decadent daydream of me on my knees, situated between your legs. The question intruded on your fantasy, making you all the more eager to return to it. To get to a place where you don’t need to be concerned about someone else’s priorities getting in the way. You want to focus on me.

And when you do finally get home and can give yourself completely to me, what shall we do? I can think of a few things. Let’s return to me on my knees, shall we?  You’re sitting there, fully clothed while I’m fully exposed, my tits bouncing as I move. I reach for your belt buckle and pull it open.

You enjoy watching me slowly unzip your pants, and then reach for the sides so I can pull them off. You hoist yourself up to allow them to come off. With your pants around your ankles, I massage your stiff, pulsating erection through your underwear.

You let out a loud moan that begs me to meet skin with skin. Don’t worry, baby. We’ll do even better than that. But I tease you a while longer first. You fidget in your chair, wishing upon all that you regard as holy that I’d just get to it!

Finally I pull out a pair of scissors. Slowly, gently, methodically, I cut through the fabric of your boxer briefs. At last your raging hard cock is liberated and staring straight at me with its one eager eye. I give it a quick wet kiss and tell you to close your eyes.

Instead of languidly making love to the head with my mouth, I engulf your cock, taking the entirety of your meaty muscle down into my throat. You instinctively place your hands atop my head so you can control my pace.

My lips form a wet seal at the base of your cock as the sides of my mouth vacuum your shaft. You’re in utter ecstasy as your whole body pulls back.

You grasp the back of my head a little harder as you shoot out a huge stream of cum.  You’re breathing heavy when you see me smiling at you, cum still drizzling from my lips onto my chin.

Feel relaxed now, love?

I love being your personal Calm App.

You’re sitting at your desk multi-tasking. There’s a conference call going on in your ear, eyes reading an email, pen in hand jotting down notes. This is your day, every day Monday through Friday, and sometimes on weekends. You have meetings, annual reviews with your manager, anonymous employee surveys, and a 401k plan. You are a soldier marching for corporate America.

One evening, after a long hard day consisting of hours upon hours, each of which could’ve been shortened to a 3 paragraph email, you are home with no energy remaining to do anything that requires any work or effort. You finish dinner and check your work email one more time just to reiterate how hard tomorrow will be. You care about doing your job well, and you believe that’s part of why you’ve ascended as far as you have in your career (I can relate).

You and I have as strong a relationship as we do because we both adhere to a similar system of values. When you prove yourself to be good at what you do, you’re rewarded.

From rank and file to middle management to executive level, people move up the ladder largely on the basis of merit. And in turn, you reward others in kind, as well. You’ve rewarded me in kind. I was not the first phone sex girl you called. You tried others and the amount of time you spent with each of them was in direct correspondence with how good she was at getting you off.

You work hard for your money, so when you hire someone to give you a dose of female attention, and ultimately make you cum, you treat her as her performance warrants.

If she has an older, truck-stop sounding voice or requires all stimulation to come from your imagination, then she’s not much more than a glorified receptacle. You’d fuck a girl who was just lying/laying there, legs splayed open, but when you want executive treatment, you need more. You found that in me (and then some wink*).

It’s not just that I make you cum—even an entry level 50-something might be able to do that if you arrive horny enough—it’s how excited I make you feel on the journey. You enjoy hearing me answer the phone and the thrill of knowing our time together is now under way. Engaging in flirtatious banter with me alone brings its own fulfillment for you.

The first time you hear me refer to your cock as “mine” your pleasure sensors come to life as your cock springs to full attention. Your hand morphs into a machine you cannot control as it grips that powerful muscle between your legs. The purple head is gleaming, with pre-cum oozing out. I bring you to a place where you can’t go on your own, like a pass to the C-suite lounge on the floor you’ve never been on before.

Simply put, you call me because you recognize that I am the best phone sex provider you’ve ever had. I am the industry’s top CEO, with my succulent tits on the cover of Forbes, and my voice permanently living in your mind.

Take your pants off, babe.

I think it’s time for us to schedule another 1-on-1 and discuss your performance in greater detail.

This is going to be an evaluation like no other.

I look forward to sizing you up!