Barking Like A Dog, And Other Phone Sex Skills

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“You want to do what???

One thing that will inevitably happen if you work in phone sex for longer than about a week is that your definition of what constitutes bizarre behavior will change drastically.  You’ll find yourself Facebook chatting with other phone sex operators and saying things like, “I had this caller the other day who wanted me to bark like a dog while he was jerking off, and then afterward—and this is a little weird—he wanted to cuddle.”  And your friend will reply with something like “Aww, that’s sweet!  It is a little weird, though.  I can’t remember the last time a caller asked me to cuddle.”  And you won’t realize for days how fucked up it is that the cuddling is what you both found strange.

You’ll also probably notice your reactions to different kinds of calls will change.  When I started, I remember thinking, “Oh, I hope I don’t get a caller who wants to call me names and tell me to do disgusting things, I just don’t know if I could handle it.”  Now, when I get a caller who likes to call me a fucking whore and tell me to get on my knees so he can take a shit in my mouth, I think “Awesome!  I just have to sit here and agree with him while he does all the work!  I hope this guy calls every day!”  Seriously, those guys are some of my favorite callers.  I send them free minutes so they’ll keep coming back.

But I think one of the oddest things that has changed for me since I started doing phone sex is the kind of lies I tell.  Of course there are the standard lies:  “Why yes, I love anal,” and “Absolutely I’ve done a gangbang.  In fact, I just came back from one.  It was my third gangbang this week.”  But when guys ask me what I’m wearing, even though I could tell them I’m wearing the kind of sexy lingerie that never, in real life, ends up looking good on me, that’s not the lie I tell.  What I say is usually that I’m in my yoga pants, because even over the phone I’m too fucking lazy to wear anything more complicated than stretch pants and a t-shirt.  I just don’t feel like making up all the details.  I’ll give a guy the most elaborate fake rimjob he’s ever gotten, but I can’t be bothered to put on pretend lingerie.  I don’t know why.

When I started doing phone sex, I put so much work into it—too much, really.  I researched fetishes and came up with elaborate roleplay scenarios and tried to figure out if my callers would prefer that I wear satin or lace panties (the answer, by the way, is neither).  I’m not saying I don’t put any effort in anymore; I do.  I’ve just found that most callers kind of like that I’m wearing fake yoga pants instead of fake lingerie.  It makes it seem more real.  Plus, guys really, really, really like yoga pants, which is something I wish I had known back when I still looked good in spandex.  I put the effort in where it counts, now, that’s all.  I may be wearing stretch pants, but I’ll give the best damn dog bark you’ve ever heard, and I’ll even throw in a growl for good measure.  And then I’ll cuddle the fuck out of you, even though I think it’s weird.  I am a professional, after all.

The Most Interesting Thing About Phone Sex

cropped-girl-with-phone1.jpgI’m a phone sex girl.  I’m not a high school dropout, I’m not addicted to drugs, and I don’t have five kids with deadbeat baby-daddies.  I’m highly educated and I’ve never done any drug harder than marijuana.  I don’t have any children, and I haven’t even had that many sexual partners.  I don’t fit any of the stereotypes of a phone sex girl.  But, then again, who wants to be a stereotype?

I’m not sure when the exact moment was that I decided to give paid phone sex a try.  I’d had amateur phone sex before, with a romantic partner I’d had actual sex with, but the truth is that it’s completely different when you’re having long-distance relations with someone you’ve slept with in real life.  You know what he likes, what gets him off—not to mention that you know what he really looks like and not just what he says he looks like.  It’s a lot easier to suck a guy’s virtual cock when you know how the real thing looks and feels and responds.

Of course, with anonymous phone sex, you both get to be whatever you want in the looks department.  He can tell you he has a nine inch cock and you can tell him you have double Ds.  You can say you just got a bikini wax when the truth is that the last time you were really presentable down there was three summers ago, and even then it was only for about a week.  You can go to work in your pajamas and tell everyone you’re wearing silk stockings, five inch heels, and a black satin teddy, and that’s completely fine.  You just have to remember to put on real pants before you go out and run your errands.

When I started doing professional phone sex, I was expecting all sorts of weird fetishes and bizarre, perverted fantasies.  That didn’t surprise me.  Well, the adult babies surprised me a little.  And the sneezing fetish, that was new.  But for the most part, I just took whatever a guy told me he was into and went with it, and I found that what surprised me most was how interesting it is.  I’ve had calls that were maybe ten or fifteen minutes of phone sex and another forty-five minutes of just plain old talking.  I’ve also had plenty of three minute jerk-off calls (this is sex work, after all), but it’s all the different people I get to talk to and all the different things we’ve talked about, sexual and non-sexual, that I wasn’t expecting.  It turns out that the most interesting thing about phone sex is how interesting it is.

The other thing that surprised me about phone sex is how, when you get right down to it, every guy I’ve talked to is pretty much the same.  He could be an entertainment lawyer with a foot fetish or a software engineer who likes to wear lingerie and be told how small his cock is.  What all of them are looking for is a way to enjoy whatever it is that makes them feel good without someone making them feel bad for wanting it.  They can’t tell their wives or girlfriends, sometimes because they don’t have them and sometimes because it’s hard to tell the mother of your children that you fantasize about being castrated.  So they tell me.  I’m safe, I’m anonymous, and I’m getting paid not to judge them.  If they’re happy, I’m happy.  I’m even happier when their fantasies take over an hour to fulfill.

The problem with all this happiness is that I have no one to share it with.  I’m a closeted phone sex girl; none of my friends and family know what I do.  I don’t have anyone to tell these stories to.  When I get a call from a guy who starts out wanting to pound my ass and ends up on his knees sucking his roommate’s girlfriend’s dirty panties and calling me “Mistress,”  I have no one to brag to!  So I’m starting this blog.  Maybe people will read it, maybe they won’t.  But it’s safe, it’s anonymous, and if people judge me for it, I really don’t care.  It makes me happy, and that’s what matters most.

[All images are in the public domain]