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From: author@cyber-mall.com (Joe Parsons)
Subject: A Conversation with Eve (mf, fantasy) (Celestial repost)
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A Conversation with Eve
(The Straight Scoop about Phone Sex)
By Joe Parsons
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The following story contains material that might be
deemed offensive by some Net users. If this is the case for you, please
feel free to write to me to let me know.
This text is copyright 1996 by Joe Parsons. Permission is hereby
granted to repost it electronically, provided that it is posted in
its entirety. Any deletion or alteration without the express
written permission of the owner is a violation of domestic and
international copyright law.
===========================================================
As a writer I've always had a great interest in those pay-per-call sex
lines you see advertised everywhere; I've thought for some time that
there could be a good story found in one of these situations. If you've
ever seen the ads for these services in places like Hustler or Penthouse
Forum you know they can look pretty sleazy. Since I'm not above a
little healthy sleaze, I did some checking into the whole pay-per-call
sex industry.
One of the things I found is that the 900 numbers are beginning to be
heavily regulated. Although the ads you'll see for them are explicit,
there are regulations restricting what the girl can and cannot say. When
you dial a 900 number you are rolling the dice that you'll actually get
a number where they're willing to give "real" (hardcore, explicit)
phonesex.
An alternative just beginning to appear is the offshore numbers which
are (so far, at least) unregulated. You'll see three kinds, and you can
recognize them by the prefix. 809 is Santo Domingo, in the Dominican
Republic. These numbers are not what I'd call "hardcore"--that is,
explicit. The owner of the number routes the call through his own
long-distance switch, so he earns a commission on the minutes. You can
expect to pay as little as $0.65 per minute for the call, or possibly as
high as $2.25, depending on your own long distance carrier. If you're
looking for "real" sex talk, you'll be disappointed. These numbers are
generally limited to "party lines" or date lines.
When you see a prefix of 011 (the international prefix) you'll be
calling a true offshore number, typically Guyana, Israel or Sao Thome (a
small island off the west coast of Africa). These calls are
unregulated, they can be explicit, and the cost will be whatever your
carrier feels like charging you. It's not a bad idea to have an idea of
the toll before you make the call, and you can get that information from
your own long distance carrier.
For about eighteen months, there was a newer category of sex lines that
were referred to as "10XXX." This meant that the caller would dial a
5-digit access code, then the area code (they all go to Canada), and
finally the number. These calls generally were no-holds-barred and
explicit, which may be part of the reason that they no longer exist. The
regional phone companies simply refused to handle the billing for them.
Many have interpreted this as a form of censorship, and the erotic
pay-per-call industry has been trying to stay one step ahead of the
trend. One solution has been to bill the call to a major credit card,
and some of the more forward-thinking services have begun to allow
billing to a local phone calling card or even a checking account.
While these methods of billing are convenient, you should be aware of
the potential for abuse. Make sure there is a customer service number
where you can talk to a live person in case of billing problems or
disputes. If you are not able to get such a number, you should proceed
at your own risk. In any event, pay attention to your credit card
billing and complain immediately if there's any discrepancy at all. A
legitimate pay-per-call service will handle disputes and problems
quickly and efficiently.
I called a 1-800 number recently (purely for research purposes, of
course!) and I thought it might be interesting to post a slightly edited
transcript of the call. I should tell everyone reading this first that
I do in fact now own an erotic telephone service, so if this seems like
an ad, I am wearing my asbestos/kevlar underwear; flame on, if you must.
Whether anyone here calls the number or not, I hope it makes for
interesting reading. The number, by the way, is
1-800-666-6674
I'd listened to the preamble telling me to hang up if I was younger than
eighteen, then talked to a very pleasant woman who explained my billing
options: credit card, local calling card or personal check. She gave me
a customer service number to call in case of trouble. I decided to bill
the call "discreetly" to my local calling card. With the preliminaries
out of the way, she said good-by and transferred my call.
The phone rang twice. A very sweet, breathy female voice answered.
"Hello, Baby," she said.
"Hello, who's this?" I asked.
"My name is Eve--who's this?"
"My name is Joe."
"So how're you doing, Joe?"
"I'm doing great...you have such a nice voice." I wasn't lying--she
really did.
"Oh, thanks! Why are you being so nice today? Did you win the lottery?"
"I should be so lucky! No, I've just been sitting here, all by myself,
just working at the house." She was kind of cooing in my ear as I spoke.
"So, do you have a lot of work to do?" she asked. I had started a timer
to keep an eye on how long I'd be on the phone, and I was wondering for
a moment if she was just going to stall and try to keep me on the phone,
racking up the minutes.
"Well, I've got projects...I'm a writer, so I spend most of my time
alone with my fantasies.""Mmmm...that's good. What type of writer are
you?"
"I write erotic fiction."
"Oooh," she said, sounding genuinely interested. "That's not too bad!"
"Yeah," I said. "It's a lot of fun. I get to go around with a hardon
most of the day!" I threw in this last because I wanted to make sure she
knew I was looking for an explicit call. I had heard that the girl will
not get explicit until the caller does first.
She giggled. "So, you have a good job, then." She laughed again,
softly, as though to herself.
"I think so," I said.
"So...What year were you born in, Joe?" Funny question.
"1945, would you believe...why do you ask?"
"I don't know...you sound very young!" She certainly knows the way to MY
heart!
"Why thank you!"
"You're welcome." If I were thinking of my friend Eve as a hooker, I'd
have to say she was awfully good at the preliminaries. I found myself
quite a bit more at ease as the conversation went on. We were now a
little less than three minutes into our conversation.
"So...what do you like to do in your spare time?" she asked.
"Well, I'm a sailor, so I like to spend a lot of time on the boat."
"Where do you live?" Gosh, maybe I could get her to come down here to
see me! Naah.
"San Francisco area, so we get to sail pretty much year 'round."
"Oh, wow...that's great. Anything else you like to do?"
"I like to do all sorts of things, but actually, what I really like is
my work."
"You do?"
"Yeah, I do, because I get to spend all my days thinking about, and
writing about people making love."
"And you never get writer's block?"
"Never...how could I possibly get writer's block?"
"Do you experiment a lot?"
"You mean sexually?"
"Mmm-hmm."
"Every chance I get."
"I guess to come up with dialogue would be hard? Or do you find that
simple?"
"Well, a lot of it is when I get into a character, you figure out who
the folks are, and there are kind of logical things they would say. I've
been at it a long time, and after a while you get to where you're pretty
good at it." She sounded as if she was really interested, but at $3.99 a
minute, I didn't want to do an aspiring writer's workshop! Time to move
on.
"So, tell me about yourself, Eve; what do you look like?"
"Well, I'm 5-10..."
"Big girl!" I interjected.
She giggled. "Yeah...I have blonde hair, blue-gray eyes, and I weight
about 134, 136, I'm not too sure. That's basically it." I was a little
surprised; I'd expected her to say something about her enormous tits,
dripping pussy, but she was being quite a lady.
"What are you wearing?" I asked.
"Right now I'm wearing a bra and panties."
"Hmm," I said. "Is it warm up there?" She is in Canada, after all.
"In my house it is. I have the heat on already; it's kind of chilly
outside, but in my house it's nice and toasty."
"So you like to wander around without a lot of clothes on?"
She laughed again. "Yeah."
"I do, too."
"Really? Then we have something in common!"
"Yeah...I'm wearing virtually nothing right now, as a matter of fact."
"Really!" It was almost as though she was licking her lips. "So, if I
was there with you, what could I do to you?" Brass tacks time.
"Well, you could start by sucking on my nipples a little bit."
"Mmmm."
"I like that, 'cause my nipples are real sensitive. Are your nipples
sensitive, too?"
"Yeah...yeah." Her voice was breathier, softer.
"Do you have real big breasts?"
"36."
"That's pretty respectable size."
"Okay." She laughed again.
"But, you know, anything more than a mouthful is just wasted," I said.
"So I hear." We laughed together. "Not too many men complain," she said
a little proudly.
"Well, I certainly wouldn't complain," I said, getting a picture in my
mind's eye of a tall blonde woman. She laughed again.
"If you were here, what do you think you might like to do to me?" I
asked.
"Mmmm...well...I'd like to...do you have a desk?"
"Yeah."
"Mmm! I'd probably want you to sit on your desk..." I imagined myself
sitting on my desk. "I'd walk slowly towards you, big smile on my
face...I'd start to kiss your neck, I'd turn around, and I'd nuzzle
really close to you, and you could just smell my clean scent..." She was
speaking more softly now, and it seemed as if she was breathing harder.
"Then," she continued,"...I'd want you to do something that would
surprise me."
"Do I get to guess what would surprise you?" Shades of interactive
fiction. She waited for me to answer.
"How about if I took my hands, and I put them very gently down the front
of your panties..."
"Oooh, what's there?" She was playing with me, kind of teasing a bit,
and obviously enjoying herself. I have to admit I was, too. I could
feel myself beginning to get aroused.
"I can feel that you're already getting wet...Do you get wet when you
talk to people?" I could hear her breathing a little faster into the
phone.
"Yeah."
"Are you wet right now?"
"Mm, hmm," she said matter-of-factly.
"Oh, that's nice...can you put your hand down there right now?" I asked,
"since I can't be there with you? Can you put your hand on your pussy?"
"Yeah...do you want to actually hear?"
"Sure." This'll be a good trick! I heard a kind of wet slurping sound,
and she was rubbing the phone against her pussy.
"Not bad," I said. "I can almost taste you.
"Yeah," she breathed, even softer. "Mmmm?" she asked me to continue.
"So, you'd be so wet, I'd slide my fingers down into your pussy, and I'd
just gently pull your outer lips apart..."
"Ahhhh," she said, softly.
"And I'd feel that wetness there, and I can feel your clit just starting
to stick out..."
"Yeah, I have a big clit," she said. "It kind of hangs out. I have to
be careful when I cycle." I had a sudden mental picture of her riding
along the Canadian countryside, pedaling hard as her body was shaken by
orgasms.
"You'd have to be careful," I said, "or you could self-destruct!"
"Yup!" she said, perkily. "I have to wear padded cycling shorts." It
was an intimate little detail that I thought was kind of nice. Her voice
was soft and breathy again.
"Then I'd slowly unhook my bra for you...and I'd lean back against you,
so you could cup my breasts, and play with my nipples....yeah...and I'd
slowly bend over and slip off my panties. You could see my wet, juicy,
throbbing pussy. And I'd stick my finger in slowly...and I'd slowly
pull my finger out, and I'd stand up, and walk closer to you, and I rub
my fingers over your lips...so you could taste me..." The phone
connection was very good--no static--but she was speaking very softly,
and I found myself holding my breath to hear her.
"I can almost taste you," I said. "You're kind of sweet, and a little
musky." I was fast losing my writer's detachment.
"Mmm-hmmm...yeah," she went on. "You can taste me...and I start kissing
your lips, and I'd rub your crotch, feeling your hard cock, your balls,
inside your shorts...and then I'd slowly stand you up and take down your
shorts, and I'd get down on my knees, and I'd put my hands on the back
of your knees, and I'd bury my face in your crotch, smelling and
licking, smelling and licking, your balls, underneath your balls.
Stroking your cock with my left hand, then licking you like a great big
lollipop. Sucking you deep, getting you so hard...You start pumping
slowly in my mouth...You pull your cock out, and I'll see your pre-come,
and I'll lick it off...lick it all off. Then, ohhh, I'd lay on your
desk, and I'd spread my legs and you'd come between my legs, so you're
level with the table. You'd take your cock and slowly slip it in my wet
pussy...aaaahh..." I was quite into the fantasy by now.
"You're so slick," I said, imagining I could feel her.
"Yeah...and I'll squeeze my muscles real tight, as you're pumping in and
out of my pussy...squeezing so it'll be harder for you to slip in and
out. Ohh..and I'll be squeezing the skin of your cock around the head,
fucking you hard...harder...harder...harder." It sounded as though she
was about to get off, herself over this fantasy we were creating on the
telephone. "Mmm...then I'd want you to sit down on the floor, and I'd
straddle you, so I was facing you..." My journalistic objectivity was
completely out the window at this point, as I heard a moan coming from
my throat. I was going to come in spite of myself. She stopped when
she heard me.
"You gonna come, Baby?"
"Oh, I'm gonna come!"
"Come in my ass, Baby...Come in my ass!" She was moaning and breathing
hard, making small sounds in the back of her throat; if she was putting
on an act, it was one of the best I've heard. I was coming myself at
this point, and the chat before, the small talk, the slow buildup made
for an intense orgasm. If I were a more cynical person I'd say that it
was just masturbation aided by fantasy. That may be, but it felt more
real than your average fantasy. And as a writer, I'm in the fantasy
business, remember?
"Oh, Baby," she sighed. "Ohhh, you're so good, Baby...yeah...mmmm,
yeah...thank you, Baby...thank you, Joe." The last was just a whisper.
She kept sighing as though she were just winding down from her own
orgasm.
Reality started to return for me. "Now look what you did to my
keyboard!"
"What did I do?" she asked, laughing.
"I got come on my keyboard!"
"Oh no...I'll lick it all off for you," she said, playfully.
"Thank you so much," I said with real sincerity.
"Sweetheart?" she asked. "Are you gonna go?"
"I am going to have to go," I said, a little reluctantly. "But you do
good." And I meant it.
"Thank you, Baby."
"Bye."
And that was that. I'd spent about $40.00 on the call, but I'd have to
say that for me, at least, it was a worthwhile experience. I'd had a
pleasant conversation with a bright woman whom I could imagine to be
tall and gorgeous. It was easy for me to imagine that she got off on
our conversation as much as I did; she actually had me believing that I
was bringing her to an orgasm with our shared fantasy. Was it faked? It
really doesn't matter. Would I call again? Probably.
If you were to ask me for advice about phonesex numbers, I'd say first
of all, be sure you're actually calling a "hardcore" phone line, rather
than a soft-core line with a hardcore ad. Second, it helps if you have
some idea ahead of time about the kind of conversation you want. That
way you can participate in the encounter. If you don't feel up to
interacting with a live lady, you could try a recorded fantasy; they're
generally a lot less money. Finally, if you figure you're not getting
what you called in for, don't hesitate to end the call and contact the
customer service line to complain. Just be aware that generally the
girl can't get explicit until you do, so early in the conversation you
could ask the girl what she looks like (and they're all drop-dead
gorgeous, guaranteed!) and get anatomical about her features: her
nipples, her pussy. Once you've done that, it's as though you've given
her permission to say whatever she wants.
Hope all this was useful to all you horny cyber-folks. I'm not posting
this anonymously, as you might notice, so if anyone has any questions or
observations about all this (including your own experiences) please feel
free to post or write to me.
================================================
The fine art of erotic talk is not dead. For intelligent, creative
erotic explicit conversation, call the women who were *too explicit* for
the 900 lines. Find out what thousands of repeat Internet callers
already know. Call
1 800 666 6674
$3.99 per minute--and worth it.
If the idea of $3.99 a minute makes you choke, there are other less
expensive choices for live conversation, such as
011 592 599 025 ("The Party Zone;" live chat)
011 6787 3542 ("Cyber-Cafe;" live group chat--new programming!)
For gay callers:
011 592 599 444 ("Man-Scan;" live, interactive gay voice personals).
011 683 8224 ("The Bath House;" live, group gay chat)
These are international calls, but the cost can be as low as $.49
minute, depending on your long distance carrier, time of day and calling
plan. As always, you should know the charges *before* picking up the
telephone.
If you'd like to learn more about telephone sex, find "Phonesex--the
Straight Scoop" and "Phonesex--the FAQ" at an alt.sex.* newsgroup near
you. The author will try to fulfill requests by email, but he would
appreciate requests for reposts instead.
Joe Parsons
jmp!@cyber-mall.com
--
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Please remove the "!" from my address to send me mail. I do not
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