Wednesday, July 26, 2017

We Are Legion: A Guide To Telejohns


For Jesus had already declared, "Cum out of this man, you unclean spirit!" Then Jesus Asked him, "What is your name?" "My name is Legion", he declared, "for we are many."

-Mark 5:9, (this passage refers to Jesus' encounter with the possessed man)


When you do anything for any period of time, especially if it involves interacting with people, especially if you interact with people on an intimate level, certain archetypes start to emerge. While all of my telejohns are special and unique, like sperm under a microscope, I have seen certain repeat personas.

Cherry Vanilla: These are guys who are first time callers, who are young, usually college aged. They are bro flavoured, but they aren’t knuckle dragging neanderthals. They are usually really polite, though with a macho put on swagger that is kinda adorable. They never want anything freaky, just blow jobs into cowgirl, into missionary, or doggie, or both, ass slapping and than a gleeful pop shot on on the tits or ass. They always say thank you at the end of the call…like guys do when you blow them the first time…and than never, ever again. 

Errand Boys: These guys really baffle me. They call when they are in the middle of doing mundane shit. Grocery shopping, house cleaning….a guy once called when he was feeding ducks on his farm. You might think that these guys were going for a good old public jerk off session…but, they don’t get anywhere near touching themselves. They are way too preoccupied doing whatever they are doing. These calls typically end with the guy telling me he will call back because he is too busy. One time, a guy called me because he needed help assembling his barbecue. It was a hot mess. It felt like we were fucking married. 

David Frost: These guys are the journalist sort. They spend their time with me asking loads of questions. They typically are repeat callers if they like you. They will ask you questions for hours and hours. It’s a real challenge, because I have to remember everything I say and the majority of what I tell them is made up. These guys usually require me to do a lot of note taking. These callers are usually old skool sex work veteran johns who need an elaborate, emotional and intellectual intimacy in order to really get hard and get off. These are my personal favourite types of tele johns, because they really force me to step it up in the storytelling department. They usually are very smart, interesting men, and for them to find me appealing and continue to call is a compliment to me. That’s why they get called “David Frost’s”-because I respect them.

Barbara Walters: These are also journalist type callers, but their aim is to make you reveal shameful things to them, or to make you cry. They are pretty rare. They don’t seem to want to break you because they are mean, more like they need to know you are a human by making you as vulnerable as possible. There’s only been one that has actually made me cry. It was really cathartic. 

Bottle Poppers: These guys shake it too hard and too fast and explode all over themselves. 

Batemans/Bluebeards: The word “misogynist” gets thrown around a lot these days, which is super irritating, because I think people use this word without really understanding what it means. It’s not the same as sexism, which is the belief that one sex is inherently lesser than the other. Misogyny is the hatred of women. Sexism is “girls can’t do math”, misogyny is “die, bitch, die!”. The scariest thing about callers who are misogynists is that they are typically very inconspicuous. They often claim that they love women, that they love to pleasure women. They typically are into BDSM, because it is the perfect world for them to hide in. They claim to be dominant, but it becomes clear that they are into sex acts that are not so much kinky as they are incidents that qualify as aggravated assault. They have no respect for boundaries, and will call you weak if you object to anything they want. But, other than all that, they are really swell guys.

Amateur Gynecologists: Callers who fall under this category are that special blend of nerve rattling gross and drench your underpants with pee hilarious. They are not intending to be either of these things. They think they are sexy. These guys believe that they have a Ph.D in Pussy..they are Dr. Pussy, MD. Oh yeah…OH YEAH!. Except…there is no academic program that currently offers a Ph.D in Pussy, specifically. It’s all a lie. Just like these guys’ claims that they are good at pleasing women sexually. These guys are hard cringe in the dirty talk department. They use words that should never be used in the dirty talk lexicon, like “membrane”, or “vaginal walls" Who ever got hard or wet from the word “membrane”? These cats are graphic to the point of medical textbook. A typical call with this guy is usually begin with a proclamation, a warning, a heralding, if you will, of his incredible pussy pleasing skills. Then, I usually have to fake moaning for at least half an hour while he describes with surgical precision exactly what he will do to rock my world. By the end, I am screaming like a opera diva performing her last aria of the evening. I am Mimi in La Boheme, I am Madame Butterfly, killing herself for her beloved Pinkerton. The most memorable caller of this ilk that I ever had was a guy who sounded an awful lot like Doc Brown. I imagined a man with tufts of white hair sticking out his ears. He described doing things to me that I’m sure should not actually be done to someone unless they are under anesthesia. It sounded like uterus surgery with his bare hands, but, he seemed convinced that I should be enjoying myself. Right before my big fake climax, he shouted…”Go On Baby! PULL THE FUCKING TRIGGGGEEEERRRRR!!!!!”. I could not stop laughing. 

P.T Barnums: The ringleaders. It just isn’t fucking unless they have a whole show going on. They need a whole lot of things to be going on to even be close to getting off. They need to have something up their ass, they need their porn on, they need someone watching…they need a midget hanging from the ceiling. They can’t just wank, they need to wank with style. They need lots of shit in place. Their desire is a science lab, and if things aren’t mixed correctly, if the formula isn’t followed, than the mix is ruined. The chemistry has to be just so. It usually never works out, because they need so much shit to be going on that inevitably, something fails. The hooker doesn’t show up, the dildo in their ass isn’t big enough…the midget hanging from the ceiling has gas. They just can’t catch a break. 

Groomsmen: These guys say they want to marry me, and that we can raise a little family. For real, these are callers who propose. They usually do it pretty quickly, like within the first hour of talking to them. Some play it a little cooler, and just ask for you to come visit them. It usually becomes a saga. I once spent 8 hours on the phone with a guy from India, while he begged me to marry him. I couldn’t of course, being a young, blond med student from the US with a fiancĂ© and everything.  This shit gets tiresome. They cry, they beg, they get mad, they tell you you are the only one for them. Oy. 


Friend Of Dorothy: These guys are straight, okay? They aren’t into guys, okay? They aren’t…fags, okay? They like women, okay? They just….they just wanna, sorta, kinda know what it might feel like to, you know, be with a guy like, one time. Like, ONE time, when they are drunk, or something, you know, but…they just want to feel a dick in their mouth, just, like once, to be sexually adventurous, you know. And maybe…maybe, like kiss a man, or look deeply into his eyes…you know, for the experience. But, that doesn’t make him a “fag” or nothing, right? By the way, would you mind pulling their hair and calling him a fag while he cums looking at gay porn and thinking about that guy he works with?

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