Small Penis Humiliation Phone Sex

I met him at this half-empty bar downtown, the kind of place that is honest about being a last resort at midnight. He was cute in a nervous way, nursing one beer like it was a job interview, and he kept glancing over at me and then jerking his eyes away like I had caught him stealing. I watched him do it three times before I got bored and went over there myself, because cute-nervous is my favorite flavor and I was not going to let him waste it on the wallpaper.

Up close he was even better. Big eyes, shaky smile, hands that did not know what to do with themselves. He bought me a drink with the energy of a man defusing a bomb, and I let him talk, and the more he talked the more obvious it became that he was working up to something. Men always are. Eventually he admitted it, all in a rush, that he had this thing, this kink, that he was embarrassed about. I leaned in close and told him embarrassment was my love language, and he laughed this relieved little laugh, and then he told me.

He wanted to be laughed at. Specifically, down there. He said the words small penis humiliation phone sex like he was confessing to a crime, and I had to bite my lip to keep from grinning right in his face. Guys are always asking me for that small penis humiliation phone sex energy, but getting to do it in person, face to face, with the poor boy right there where I can see everything? That is the premium experience, and he had no idea what he had just signed up for.

I told him to come home with me. He said yes so fast he knocked over his beer.

Back at my place I poured us drinks I had no intention of finishing and told him to relax, which made him visibly more tense, which made me grin. I sat him down on the edge of my bed and stood between his knees in my little black dress, and I told him the rules. I do the talking. He does exactly what I say. If he is good, I might be merciful. If he is bad, I will be honest, and honesty is worse. He nodded so hard I thought his head might come off, and I laughed, and he shivered, and we had not even started yet.

I told him to show me. He hesitated, and I told him hesitation counts as lying, and he unbuckled his belt with shaking hands, and oh. Oh, he was tiny. The kind of tiny that made me press my thighs together, because this was going to be so much fun. I laughed. I could not help it, it just bubbled out of me, this bright bratty laugh, and he groaned so loud the neighbors probably heard it.

I told him to stand up. I walked a slow circle around him, all bare and exposed in the middle of my bedroom, and I narrated everything I saw like I was doing a nature documentary. I told him he looked like the AA battery in my vibrator remote, except the battery was probably bigger and definitely more useful. He whimpered, and I told him that sound was the hottest thing I had heard all week and to make it again, and he did, and I laughed harder.

I slowed down then, because I am a brat but I am not wasteful, and I wanted this to last. I made him tell me the meanest thing anyone had ever said about it, and when he told me, I repeated it back slower and sweeter, and then I improved on it, because I am better at this than whoever bruised his ego in the past. I told him he should be grateful. Most girls would have faked a moan and left. I was going to be honest with him, and honesty was going to ruin him for anyone nicer.

He begged me not to stop laughing, which is genuinely the funniest thing anyone has ever begged me for. I told him begging was good, begging meant he understood the arrangement. I kept going, painting this whole picture of him standing there throbbing while I lounged in my robe, totally unbothered, totally in charge, laughing at him like he was my favorite show. I told him to touch himself, then told him to stop, then told him he was not allowed to finish until I said so, and he actually sobbed a little, and I had to bite my lip because that was adorable.

I pushed him back onto the bed and straddled his hips without letting him inside me, just teasing, just close enough to feel how desperate he was. I told him this was the best small penis humiliation phone sex he was ever going to get, except there was no phone, no distance, no hiding. Just me, laughing, right in his face, while he fell apart underneath me. He came so hard he nearly slid off the bed, groaning my name like a prayer, and I was still giggling when he finally caught his breath.

He asked, very quietly, if he could see me again. I told him that was entirely my decision to make, and that I would be thinking about it, and that thinking about it was going to keep me very entertained. Then I walked him to the door in my robe and kissed his cheek, and he left grinning like an idiot. He is probably still thinking about my laugh right now. I know I am still thinking about his face. And I have not decided anything yet, which is the most delicious part of all.