Anatomy of a Phonecall

“Ok, Charlotte, ” says Mindy one Wednesday evening, “I have Mark, he paid for 30 minutes and he wants 18, white and slutty.”

“I’ll be Sarah,” I say, grabbing up my pen and notebook.

“Connecting Sarah with Mark for 30 minutes.”

“Hi baby, this is Sarah. Who’s this?” I purr into my phone. I spin around in my chair to write down my caller’s details and notice a pile of cat puke under the radiator. Motherfucker…My cat mimes burying her puke which reminds me I need to pick up cat litter when I get off. I write “litter” on my pad.

“This is Mark.” Ok, focus Charlotte. I have to listen closely to how he says his name. Is he confident? Then he’s got a fantasy he’s not ashamed of. If he’s shy, I have to try to figure out if he’s just naturally shy, or he’s never done this before, or if he’s ashamed of his fantasy. If he’s ashamed of his fantasy, is it because it’s really gross, or is he just pretending to be ashamed as part of a domination fantasy? If he gives me a different name than what Mindy gave me, then. . .

I’m not really sure, it’s only happened once, and I ended up getting my tranny dick stepped on by the guy after meeting in a bar.

The beginning of a call always consists of digging and then more digging. Trying to figure out what they really want to talk about. They rarely say what the really want to talk about.

18, white, hot and horny with big tits makes the skeleton. Dom, sensual dom, tranny, motherly, kinky are the meat and fat. A woman dressed in a Sponge Bob suit is the heart of it all. My job is to make them lose their inhibitions, but they’re not always forthcoming. That’s what makes this job hard sometimes. It sucks that people have to feel guilty for liking to lick assholes, but that’s also all part of the game.

“Oh, hi Mark!” I scribble ‘mark’ on my notepad. I drop my voice just half an octave, “Wanna tell me about yourself, Mark?” I don’t know how or why I started this, but I find myself saying the guy’s name repeatedly throughout our conversation they seem to like it. I guess it’s kind of sexy, unless the guy’s name is “Panty Baby.” Then it’s just annoying.

Some men hesitate even here, though. It seems fairly simple, wanna tell me what you look like, but some guys bluster when I ask them. I’ve even been told flat out, “no.” But, even that tells me a lot about him. He wants to control the conversation, and will end up either telling me his fantasy, or hinting at it with his not so subtle questions. It doesn’t matter what he looks like, because I’m just a sounding board. He’ll tell the story, and I’ll answer questions and make the proper noises.Most guys give me their driver’s license description; height, weight, hair and eye color.

Others ask me what I want to know. Then others throw me something random, like the color of their panties, or that they are afraid of clowns.

“I’m about 6′1, 180 pounds, brown hair and blue eyes.” He informs me.

“So, what are you doing?” I ask.

“Well. I’m just laying here kinda naked,” he says quietly. Hesitant, but not afraid.

After I sketch his skeleton on paper, I close my eyes and flesh him out in my mind. I see him laying on his bed kinda naked. He’s on disheveled gray sheets, with his brown hair a tangled mess and his blue eyes looking away from me, shyly. I’m kneeling beside him, stroking his chest trying to get him to talk to me.

“Kinda naked?!” I say with a giggle, “So what? You just have your socks on?” I know that I can tease him a little because even though he’s going to control the conversation, and he’s a little shy, but he’s not afraid or ashamed. Just nervous, maybe. I can tease him to let him know it’s ok. Easing the tension, baby.

“You’re naked except your socks, Mark?”
“No…I don’t have socks on even.”

I listen intently for background noise. Is he watching a porn, too? Is there music? Is his breath ragged? If he drops his voice, I drop mine lower. If he sounds uncomfortable, I giggle softly, because I am, too. If he confesses I coo reassuringly. I think your fantasy is hot, too, baby. All of his questions get yes answers. He’s paying for me to act out a fantasy that he’s created in his mind. Why would he ask me questions he wants “no” answers to? Your fantasy woman doesn’t know the word “no.” I’m there to be his fantasy, so I listen closely so I can do a good job of it.

“Oooh! So you’re all the way naked… If I were lying there naked with you, what would you want me to do for you, Mark?” I let my voice drop down an octave, I speak slowly. I try to caress him with my voice the way I would with my fingertips. Everything I say is thick as molasses, I imagine my words wrapping us up and we’re adrift, painting his fantasy like a sexual rendition of an Aunt Jemima breakfast.

“What would you want me to do to you, Mark, if I were lying there naked next to you?” I draw each word out. I stretch and sigh, as if I’m lying down.

“Well, I’d want you to suck my dick. Do you like to suck dick?” he tries to say it conversationally, but the thickness of his voice betrays him.

“I do! I love it.” I sound excited. He’s discovered a secret of mine, but I’m happy to share it with him.

“How do you do it? How would you suck my dick?”

“I’d crawl up between your legs, and I’d lick your balls.” I drop my voice an octave, and talk as I breathe out. “Slow circles with my tongue. . .back and forth. . .Making your balls wet,” I moan softly, breathing more heavily to match his breath in my ear. “I’d lift your balls with my tongue, then slowly lick my way up your big hard cock and stop right at that ridge. You know that sensitive ridge just below the head of your cock, right, Mark?”

“Yes…” He has to pry his tongue from the roof of his mouth to answer me, his voice is far away. I smile, and breathe in deep as he gasps. I’ve got him, and he’ll talk to me. Now the fun has started.

“Yes, lick around and around, so softly, so lightly with just the tip of my tongue.” I continue, breathing wetly, “Teasing you until I feel you lift your hips below me…” I’ll pause for feedback. Does he want to continue, or join in, or ask me a random ass question?

“What’s the biggest dick you’ve sucked?” He chooses to ask an only slightly random ass question.

An interesting one, though. Men are oddly fascinated with dick size. Let’s dissect this:

This guy requests an 18 year old slutty girl. Nothing about wanting a motherly dominatrix. Nothing to suggest he wants to get made fun of for his tiny dick. He didn’t mention how big his cock was either, so he doesn’t want me to ooh and ahh over his size. His tone isn’t judging, it’s conspiratorial.What does this mean? It means he wants to suck a great big dick.

“10 inches.” I whisper, gasping, as if to say, can you believe it?!

“Wow! Was he black?” His voice has gone husky.

Correction, he wants to suck a great big black dick.

“Uh huh…” I keep my voice playful as if we were friends talking about the craziest things we’ve done.

“Have you sucked a lot of black dicks?” He breathes faster.

“I have.” My voice drops another octave.

“You’re a busy girl, huh?”

“I like to suck dick. I’m a little cockwhore.” Another octave to make the hitch in his breath.

“Yea…” he says this quietly, thickly. He hesitates, and I sit quietly. He wants to be a cockwhore, too. So I wait, he’ll offer up more clues. He’s relaxed. Afloat.

“Oops,” he says suddenly, “I was just dripping a little and I had to wipe it up.”

“Oh, I like watching that precum slide down your cock, you should have left it.”

“Well, I tasted it off my fingers. I like to wipe it up and then lick my hand.” OH! A cum eater. So, he wants to be a cum guzzling cockwhore who prefers big, black cock. Good shit. This call will be easy, because I can relate. Not that I want to be a cum guzzling cock whore, but I can understand the desire to be dominated whilst blowing a dude. That’s much easier to understand then wanting to have someone shit in your mouth!

Like I said before, maybe I’m too open minded. Having talked about these fantasies so often, I think about them in my free time, too. And I’ve made some decisions. I’ll pee on a dude, but he’s not peeing on me. Absolutely no shit under any circumstances. Trannies are negotiable.

“You do? So, I could lick it up and make you suck it off my tongue?” I say. I try to make my horny whisper sound hopeful.

“Yes. You would do that?” He moans it.

I would. I’d let you cum in my mouth and I would feed it to you. Make you stick your tongue out and let your cum drip slowly off tongue onto yours. Suck your cum off of my tongue, Mark.”

He groans, “You could lick my ass, too, when you suck my dick.”

“You know I would. You like having your asshole tongue-fucked?” Depending on whether or not he hesitates by my using the word “fucked” in relation to his asshole lets me know if he’ll let me shove anything else up his ass. There are men who want to suck cock and won’t take it up the ass. They’ll gladly let you make your friend rape their faces, but get all pissy if you suggest your friend rape their asses, too. I guess that’s too gay.

“Do you like getting fucked up your ass?” He asks, me. His voice is quiet and shallow, and I know we’re getting down to the nitty gritty.

“I do. I love it!” I gasp as though I’ve just thought of something, “Would you fuck my ass and drink the cum out of it?”

“Oh yes,” his breath is quick.
“Would you drink another man’s cum out of my ass?” I say very quietly, but it doesn’t really sound like a question anymore because we both know the answer.

Yes, I would,” thicker, quieter.

“Would you drink another man’s cum out of his cock?”

“Oh yes. I have, I’ve sucked dicks before.” I hear him fapping. Just quick wet slaps, faster and faster, so I ask questions faster and faster, it’s my turn to take over, and I just fed him back what he fed me at the beginning of the conversations.

“What’s the biggest dick you’ve sucked, Mark?”

“10 inches.”

“Was he black, Mark?”

“Yes.” he’s having a difficult time getting his sentences out, “His name was Tyrone. I met him the other day at a bar.”

“Did he fuck your little asshole, too, Mark?”

“No,” here he hesitates. I imagine him shaking his head to clear the fog and I worry that I messed up. After a moment, he continues on, confident, “They, the black guys. . .they just want me to suck them off. Just. . .It’s kinda like I’m their little bitch.”

“You suck a lot of black dick. So, you’re a little cockwhore, Mark?”

“Yea. I guess I am, I guess they make me…”

“They make you a dirty little cum guzzling cockwhore, huh, Mark?” I interrupt.

“Yea…” I hear him breathing faster.

“It’s fun sucking dick, isn’t it?” He gasps quietly, and his breath quickens, so I press on, speaking a little louder, but deeper, “Tasting that cock in your throat, gagging on it.” He moans gruffly. “You like being a little cockwhore don’t you, Mark?” his breath hitches, so I get more forceful, “You like licking that thick, black cock, don’t you, Mark?” I push it, “You like it when Tyrone grabs you by your hair and rapes your mouth, don’t you Mark?”

“YES!” he shoots.

YAY! Charlotte: 1, repressed homo: 1! We all win in the phonesex game!

“So, um…ok,” he’s suddenly nervous again and stuttering after a brief silence. I’m genuinely surprised he hasn’t hung up. The ones who don’t hang up laugh with me after they cum. Then they thank me, and sometimes make small talk, other times tell me to have a good day before we hang up.

“I had fun talking to you, Mark.” I say lightly, in case he wants to chit chat.

“Yea, it was just a story, though. Just made up stories.” He’s apologetic and ashamed. I want to tell him I don’t know him, I can’t point a finger at him!

“I know, Mark.” I say, with a giggle, the same sock teasing voice I used earlier. Then I dropped back down to sexy octave, “But it was a good story.”

“Ahem. Ok, bye.” He says quickly, faintly and then hangs up.

I draw a little smiley face next to “mark.” Smiley for successful call. I kept him on the full time, so I get paid! And it sounded like Mark had a good time. I add in a few details in case he decides to call back. Then I take out the jug of enzymatic cleaner to get up the cat puke.