I swear, being a MILF Phone Sex Worker is the best damn job I’ve ever applied for. I walk around knowing every younger guy within a ten-foot radius is secretly choking on his own spit, trying not to stare at my tits or the sway of my ass. And honestly? I love that shit. I’m built to be the local whore.
I’ll be at the grocery store, grabbing some box of pasta, bend over just a little too far, and suddenly, some 22-year-old behind me is breathing as if he never seen a woman without panties on. They always try to play it cool, like “uh, excuse me,” but their eyes are glued to my swollen breasts like I’m the first woman they’ve ever seen in real life.
And that’s exactly the kind of attention I live for.
I love being the older woman they fantasize about when they’re home alone, fisting their boxers in the dark. I love it when they get brave enough to hit on me, their voice cracking while they call me “ma’am” like that’s not making me laugh inside.
You young men are so stupid.
I’m not just a MILF. I’m the filthy, irresistible problem they’ll be thinking about for weeks.
March
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