[ONE]
“Mmmm yeah, baby? I can feel your breaths getting deeper. I feel them straight into my throbbing pussy. So wet, so warm, so tight, you make my pussy ache for you. I’m so close, you keep on milking your cock. Milk that cock of yours, I’m rubbing my clit, milking my fingers with my tight, ooooh my! Blessed by the Gods!” I moaned faking orgasmic sounds over my headset while waiting for the top coat to dry on my freshly painted nails.
I am Luna Elway, The Preachers Daughter by day, Desiree, from 9:30 P.M. until whenever I decide to call it quits for the night. During the day I assist my dad at the church. Filing paperwork, typing the church newsletter, checking the emails getting the updates from our missionaries across the world. So glamorous, right? I accept God as my Lord and Savior but this daily life just isn’t for me.
Don’t get me wrong, I am blessed. Laura and Steven Elway saved me. They took me from the foster system after my biological dad finally lost it and gave me a home, love, security and a chance at life. I’m one of the lucky ones, adopted as a pre-teen. Most people want babies. On my 11th birthday, the judge signed off my adoption and that’s the day I was no longer Luna Roberti.
Angelo Roberti, my biological dad, I haven’t seen nor heard from him since I was 7. I did have a biological mom once. Obviously. She was taken from Angelo and I when I was 3, cancer. Angelo I guess couldn’t handle life after my bio mom was taken from the world. His drunken stupors, drug binges and shady ass friends finally got caught up with us and before I knew it, I was living in some strangers house with 3 other kids who apparently had shit parents as well. I have no aunts or uncles state side and no grandparents state side as well. Guess they all wanted to stay in Italy. I don’t even know if they knew I existed in their extended family tree.
Ah well, you live and you learn. One thing I know for sure is I refuse to be is anything like Angelo. Don’t get me wrong, he tried his best in beginning I suppose. From what I can remember from the earlier years before, I wasn’t neglected, dirty, malnourished. Angelo just drank quite often, got higher than a kite and his “buddies” or shady ass friends as I grew to know them as, did questionable things. Angelo brought me around some questionable situations. Money, guns, whores, drugs, those shady ass people covered in blood. You name it, I saw it. I just won’t let life take away any future children I have. My mom and dad showed me what I was missing as a child and that was two parents who loved me unconditionally.
Laura and Steven didn’t bring me into this world but they love me as if they did. They have never talked about it but I think they have their own infertility issues which lead to my adoption. They have told me on more than one occasion that I filled that missing piece in their hearts. I try to be the best daughter to them. I tried my hardest in school. B+ average grades, never skipped school, didn’t go to parties, no alcohol or drugs. Oh hell, I still haven’t had sex, let alone kissed a boy. I am officially a 22 year old virgin. Pathetic right? But I am marked in this small town as the Preachers Daughter. There is no man in this small coastal town in New Jersey who wants anything to do with the Preachers Daughter.
I guess the giant elephant in the room needs addressed. How did I become one of those late night sex phone operators? Good question. Browsing the web one night I happened to come across an ad while looking specifically for a part-time Nanny gig, offering a chance at making some decent cash working from home answering phone calls after hours. Once I heard the details, I was sold on the opportunity. I may be a virgin but I have read plenty of literature I’m sure my parents wouldn’t approve of as well as watched a few porns. I may be the Preachers Daughter but I am also a young curious woman with needs of her own, if you are catching my drift.
For being a virgin, I’ve gotten pretty good at playing Desiree. One of the perks to the job is I’m paid by the minute. I make roughly on average $35 per hour. I’ve only been answering phones for the last eight months but have recently gotten my own extension for my premium customers who pay a higher rate for my time. Sure, I still take calls that don’t yield as much per minute cause it fills in the time between my premium client callers. It all adds up in my bank account that will one day allow me to leave this small town.
The difference between a basic call and a premium call is the conversation that will happen. A basic call gets one of us a happy ending. Not me, I’m a good actress though. Sure, in the beginning I played along. Tickled my little kitty while listen to men jerk off in my ear, but it got old real quick. Premium callers get more personal. Majority of the time they call just to chat. Like I am their psychologist. Wife problems, I’ve heard it. Cheating spouses, I’ve heard that too. A good chunk of the time I help the men realize that they need to work on themselves before they can offer a real solution to their relationship issues.
Johnny. His name throws me off, but his accent is beyond sexy. I think he’s Italian. He sounds Italian. Not too positive on that though. Johnny just throws me off in general. He gets personal, but not personal enough to actually know anything about him. I think he just calls because he’s lonely and needs someone to talk to. For what I am getting paid, I can be anything he needs or wants me to be, but playing as Desiree of course.
