Fairly soon after I started taking calls I realized that I needed some creative help with my dialogue. I was beginning to run out of jargon after only a week or two, and I was having trouble thinking up variations. And so, I turned to my old standby, the method by which I’ve taught myself almost everything I know. Books.
I found an article online about talking dirty, pulled up the bibliography and started ordering. I giggled to myself as I realized that I was buying sex books and they were legitimately tax-deductible.
All of them were aimed towards lovers, naturally, and most of them targeted learning to talk during sex. One or two had chapters about phone sex, for when you and your honey are traveling. The books were helpful in a limited way. They contained lots of exercises for you and your shy partner to practice with, and most of them didn’t apply to me.
But one book helped me realize something I had sensed but never articulated. Four letter words aren’t the only key. The real power is in detailed descriptions. In other words, why say, “I’m going to suck your cock” when you could say, “I’m going to wrap my wet lips around your rock-hard cock?” Even better, “I’m going to lean forward, letting you feel my long, soft hair tickle your naked belly ever so lightly…I’ll slide my tight little tits over your thighs as I brush my full, wet, red lips over the tip of your hard, aching cock…”
Details. And not just about the sex parts. That helped.
But how to spin particulars was only half the battle. I needed to expand my erotic vocabulary. There are only so many times you can use the word cock in a 15-minute period without starting to feel stupid.
Many of the guys have fixations on specific phrases. Triggers. They want to hear how smooth my pussy is, and every time I use those precise words it sends them higher. And they usually don’t mind telling you exactly what they want to hear. One of my regulars insists on continual repetitions of the following exchange:
“Why are you being punished?”
“Because I’m a bad girl.”
“And where do bad girls get punished?”
“On their assholes.”
He doesn’t want variety, he wants to hear that 15 or 20 times in every call.
Many customers don’t specify what they want, though, and I knew that my success as a phone operator was going to depend on my getting comfortable with explicit dirty talk.
Donna once told me that “cock” and “pussy” are the industry standard words to describe genitals. (Who knew this industry even had a standard?) But she’s right, they are by far the most popular nouns used, and luckily I became reasonably comfortable with both of them after a couple of calls.
But since the men who call can’t seem to hear enough about their organs – how hard they are, how big they look, how gorgeous, tempting, deliciously sexy they feel – I figured that cock alone wouldn’t do the job. (Of course, that only applies to some men – other men prefer to hear about their tiny shriveled pathetic stumpy little weeny excuse for a cock that couldn’t satisfy a woman if it had a steel rod reinforcing it.)
Anyway, the other penis-word most often used by callers is “dick.” “Suck my dick, bitch,” or “I’m sitting here with my dick in my hand.” I don’t like dick. I don’t know why, it’s a perfectly good word, but it doesn’t appeal to me. I use it occasionally, but it’s not my first choice.
On the other hand, I’ve always had affection for the word “prick.” I love the implied action about it, and how it seems to give me this wonderful sense of something warm and alive and ready to burst out. I’ve noticed that men almost never use it, though. Maybe it’s because of the way some people use it as an insult, as in “Can you believe what a prick he is?” (No one ever says, “Can you believe what a cock he is?”)
I’ve tried incorporating more pricks into my conversations, but they just don’t seem to flow smoothly over my lips, so to speak. I think it’s the double consonant. The word slows me down and somehow throws me off rhythm when I try to use it in fast-paced chat. So I save it for the long, slow blowjobs, savoring the sound and the feel of it in the air.
Cock, dick, prick. Not a big arsenal, those three words. I needed more.
Here the books were a godsend. Several of them had long lists of different names to call things, and I sat down with a pencil to pick a few.
I crossed out some right away. They were just too silly – pecker, wang, willy, dong, wiener, dork, worm. I couldn’t use any of these in conversation without starting to giggle. Then there were the more elaborate phrases like “love muscle” or “skin flute” or “man fruit” or “trouser snake.” (Ohhh, yeah, yeah, stuff that trouser snake into my sugar basin, yeah, baby…) “John Thomas?” Only if I had a British accent, I think. None of these seemed usable.
I did re-discover “rod,” “shaft,” “tool” and even (for when I’m feeling poetic) “lance.” I use them all, but my staple is still “cock.” I often forgo an actual noun in favor of the generic “it,” and that seems to work too. (Oh, put it in me, it’s soooo hard, yes, yes, I love it…)
Testicles are a popular area to talk about, especially when the call involves oral sex. Apparently few women in the world are willing to get their mouths around a pair of testes, and it’s a big source of frustration to men. I’m perfectly happy to oblige on the phone. Here I pretty much restrict myself to “balls.” That’s it; I can’t deal with anything else. No “jewels” or “bobblers,” “swingers” or “pounders” for me, thank you very much. I used to like the word “nuts,” but then Rachel told me the story about a guy who sang her his “I’m Milkin’ My Nuts” country-western song that he sings when he masturbates. Now the word nuts just makes me giggle.
Now as for the female anatomy, we have your basic “breasts” (used mostly by men trying to be polite when they ask how big they are), the ever-popular “tits,” and the less trendy but still-employed “boobs.” Variations I loathe include “titties” and “boobies,” both of which have stalwart devotees. Those words (along with “nipples”) are generally sufficient for Kristi, who is small-breasted.
(I did find the word “cherries” in one of the books, and that seems like it would be a fun and descriptive word for Kristi’s anatomy, but I haven’t yet found an opportunity to work it naturally into a conversation.)
Jini and Mistress Nicole, who are decidedly more full-breasted, sometimes get “melons” or “hooters.” I had to learn more breast words for Jini in particular, since a number of men have wanted to fuck them – you know, “slide their hard-ons” between her “jugs,” her “knockers,” even her “puppies.”
Then of course, we get to the ultimate draw, the supreme attraction: the mysterious female genitalia. I really didn’t find any words in my books that I like better than “pussy,” though more exist than I would have imagined – “box,” “muff,” “pond,” “jelly roll,” “chalice,” “twat,” “quim,” “mystic grotto,” and my all-time favorite, “love pavilion” (Ohhhhhh yeah, c’mon into my looooooooooove pavilion.)
None of the many euphemisms appeal to me, and I find I generally stay with “pussy” and “clit,” and use lots of adjectives – hot, slick, wet, sweet, dripping, throbbing, smooth, pink, warm – you get the idea.
Only one guy wanted me to call it my “vagina.” He really had a fixation about the word, and loved to say it, all drawn out. Vagiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiina. He didn’t want all the conversation to be clinical, he just liked that particular word, so the call ended up sounding something like, “Oh that’s right baby, fuck me so hard, stuff that big hard cock into my smooth, wet, er, vagina.”
Pussy works most of the time, but I also had to learn to say “cunt,” and that was definitely more difficult. Cunt is a word that I’d always been taught was bad and rude – a degrading way to refer to a woman. I’d never actually said it aloud, except as a whispered piece of essential information, and only if I absolutely had to. I’d barely even written it, even in my most erotic and explicit of stories.
I knew I had to learn to use it without flinching, and I practiced. The first few times I said it fast, like pulling off a band-aid. Now it’s become so easy that my chief worry is that I’ll slip and use it in inappropriate company.
It’s funny, but now that it no longer bothers me, I really notice how difficult it is for some people to say it. I was talking recently to a vanilla friend, who was telling about a gesture she saw. I heard in her voice what used to be in my voice – the hesitation, the almost-whisper, and more than anything else the sense of shame about the word.
“I think… maybe it meant… he was calling her… a… a… you know… a…”
I did know, and I had the insane urge to say it loudly. “A cunt? You think he was calling her a cunt?” (Don’t worry, I didn’t.)
I’d read some articles about reclaiming the word cunt, and even some fiction that used shocking physical descriptions like “pretty cunt” or “lovely cunt.” I was always incredulous. Why would anyone want to reclaim it? I found it to be an ugly word, an expression of negativity. A pretty cunt was an oxymoron.
But I’ve discovered that it’s also an incredibly powerful word when I use it in a positive way. For a lot of guys, it’s a word they’ve never been able to say either, and it holds some secret fascination for them.
I’ve deliberately experimented with it, and found that if I use it first, I always get a positive reaction. Always. It’s true that there are plenty of guys who like to use it as an epithet (”Get on your knees and suck my dick, cunt!”), but that’s no different from slut or bitch. Those guys don’t react. But if I’m talking to a “nice guy” and I suddenly whisper, “Yes, yes, slide your fingers deep inside my cunt” I always hear a loud moan or a sharp intake of breath. It’s as if they’re both shocked and violently aroused at the same time.
I must say I’ve grown rather fond of it.