The Relationship Between Father and Daughter.

You're their little girl. Pure, innocent, and ever loving.
Well, okay, the former is what they hope for but the latter is true.
I'd rather my parents die in ignorant bliss when it comes to my life away from them.

Life with them:
My father is an anglican priest and my mother is a principal.
My brother is a banker, my sister is a cop.
I am an actor.

Already I'm the outcast, the one without direction, the one that's going
to suffer a life in poverty in the pursuit of happiness..

Life beyond them:
My brother is married to a man, also a banker.
My sister is shacked up with a female paramedic.
They've been secretly dating for 2 years.
I'm an actor working as a phone sex operator.

I love my family. They're annoying, and I might not like them all the time, but I do love them.
But I mean...they're my family. They are where I came from.

How could anyone ever violate the trust of family with something like sex?

The Caller: Gerrard
Me: Rebecca (5'7'', 124lbs, 34C-24-34, long red hair, green eyes, 22 years old)

who was i today?
I was a kinky coed who liked to play with her father.
Just having to imagine something like toys with me slightly.
How can i go through something like that and not think of my own father?

Could you do it and seperate yourself from your life to imagine having sex with your own father?

I don't think I'll ever be able to get past the incest fantasies that these men bring to me.

I'm not a tall blonde or a kinky redhead.
I'm not a naughty night nurse or a leather clad dominatrix.

I am, however, a short chubby redhead from a suburb of Toronto trying to make it as an actor.

So here it is. My first paid acting gig. Phone sex operator.

Men call me to be their fantasy; they just don't know it.
They think I am what the little description on their screen says I am. I'm far from it most times.
They call me because their significant other is out of town.
They call me because their wives aren't interesting.
They call me because they just want to talk.
They call me because they're lonely.
They call me because they want what they can't have.

I answer their calls from the comfort of my bedroom.
My refuge from the outside world. A soft lamp, dark sheets, and a kitten purring on those sheets.

For 25 minutes they have the girl of their dreams.
A kinky fuck puppet.
A sweet young girl.
A kind ear.

For 25 minutes, a voice caresses their cheek so softly through the wires and plastic of the phone.

These are their stories and mine.