Phone sex with Ashlee 866-605-2544

Not every Valentine’s Day is some incredibly magical experience where two people who are head over heels in love come together to indulge in a Cupid-inspired honeymoon episode. In fact, I’ll bet that the allure of all that we regard as special on this holiday originated as a way to sell greeting cards and get men to appreciate their wives before eventually evolving into a ploy to sell jewelry, expensive dinners, flowers, chocolate, and greeting cards.

All of the pressure is on you. Girls have pressure on them too, but it’s a different flavor of pressure. For us, it’s more about showing the other girls that we’re capable of having a good man on February 14th, one eager to shower you with diamonds and nights at the Ritz Carlton. Most girls know by Christmas time if they’re going to have a man who qualifies in the eyes of their social circle. That gives them ample time to mentally prepare for the excuses they tell their friends. If, however, they have a boyfriend or husband, then they have the luxury of just sitting back, making demands, and critiquing all of your efforts.

I’d like to change things around a bit for you this year. I’m not able to relieve you of the responsibility you were sentenced to of getting a dozen red roses for your wife just when the market sees prices increase, but what I can do is ensure that Valentine’s Day is not such a one-way street. Or perhaps the better way to think about it is that I will keep it a one-way street, but I can make it so that there will be two one-way streets, with the second being from me to you. I’m not asking you to take me to dinner. I’m not asking you to send me an overpriced, heart-shaped cardboard box of exotic chocolates (“fat pills” as I like to call them). The only thing I’m asking you to do is jerk that cock of yours for me.

It can work in any number of ways, so don’t take this next suggested vision as the only way we can make our experience happen. Imagine you wake up on Valentine’s Day morning. You kiss your wife and press your morning wood up against her. She issues a snore but then greets you, followed by pulling her leg away from your erection. “What are you doing,” she says. “You have to go to work.” You relent. “Remember, it’s Valentine’s Day,” she follows with.

Inside of all but 2-3 seconds she enjoyed your morning kiss, rejected you sexually, shooed you off to work, and then reminded you that you owe her gifts, adoration, and romance later. You go off to work, calling me on your commute. “Ashlee, I, um, uh— “

But I cut you off. “Happy Valentine’s Day babe,” I say with pleasure in my voice. It’s exactly what the doctor ordered. We conversed pleasantly for several minutes, and eventually, I asked if you want to do a call, but I understand the timing doesn’t work right now. I also understand you have dinner plans and are expected to perform afterward. “Might you want to call me after she’s been serviced and put to bed? Perhaps a little Valentine’s rendezvous of our own?”

Logistics are a challenge, but where there’s a will, there’s a way. You spend much of the morning thinking about me. When you get to the office you pull out your phone and read my latest blog again. Then you leave a comment both here and on my Guestbook. Then you check out my gallery and find yourself massaging your cock through your pants. With your hard cock in hand, you peruse the other pages on my site, your eyes drinking in the new hot photographs sprinkled around on the sidebar and below. You find yourself hard as a brick when you dial me again. “Ashlee, I’ll find a quiet place. My basement, my car, hell I’ll come to the office if I must.” I tell you that you’re being a very good boy, which sends you over the edge. “Ashlee, to hell with all that. I mean, I still want to have a nightcap with you, but I’m going home right now while no one will be around and then call you right back.”

As I said, it doesn’t have to happen like this. It doesn’t even have to happen exactly on the 14th. But what I do want to happen—for your sake—is for you to be treated this Valentine’s Day for a change.

Call me, my love.

This is Cupid shooting you with an array of arrows. And I know the target has been hit!

What are you going to do about it…866-605-2544

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