Pretty much every woman you know has received an unsolicited dick pic, so take a second to imagine the kind of filth that people manning phone sex lines must hear on the daily.

OK, rein it in – sheesh, I underestimated you.

Now you don’t really have to imagine what phone sex workers are subject to, because the Guardian have spoken to a number of phone sex professionals who spilled the beans.

Each confession comes with a picture, too, which is more than the person making the call gets.

Right, off we go:

One of my most memorable calls was one of the grossest. It was a fetish call. A scat fetish. Mostly I would refuse to talk “shit”, but that night I was feeling frisky. I gave him the shittiest call ever. He asked if I could “go” while we were on the phone. He wanted to hear it coming out, farts and all. While describing how soft it was, I told him there was a piece of asparagus I did not chew too well. Naturally, I asked him to get it for me. I cracked him up. He was laughing so hard he had to hang up because he couldn’t get back into our fantasy.’

‘I started my first shift on a Saturday at midnight. It was a gentleman who I believe called himself Bob. He told me about his first experience with a glory hole. He explained he had no one else he felt comfortable telling this to, so I felt a strange intimacy between us, even though it was rooted in a fantasy. I think it’s easier to release repressed desires to a non-judgmental, fictional person.’

‘Some clients like to hear your dick slapping against the phone. This can be done by actually slapping it, or by tapping two fingers on the mouthpiece (preferred). One finger makes your dick sound weak. Letting a person hear you piss is good too. That really turns clients on. I have fun doing what I do. I share myself with people who’re not getting what they need at home. It still gets me horny. But I must admit, you get so used to it that you can cook, play cards or even drive while satisfying someone.’

‘Gary was watching a World’s Strongest Women show on TV and saw a woman pick up a motorcycle. “I could do that,” I offered. “Could you?” he replied, breathless. “Yes. How much do you weigh?” “160.” “I could benchpress two of you.” “Oh my God … I’d like to see you lift up my girlfriend’s car.” “What car does she have?” “A Mazda Miata.” “Oh yes, I could pick up a Miata. In fact, I’d love to.” “Really? Oh my God! What if my girlfriend was inside?” “I’d just hoist it over my head and turn around slowly with your girlfriend screaming in the front seat.”’

‘I’m 60 years old, have a BA in cultural anthropology from Columbia University and have been married for 25 years. Men call me for an infinity of reasons. Of course, they call to masturbate. I call it “executive stress relief”. It’s not sex; it’s a cocktail of testosterone, fuelled by addiction to pornography, loneliness and the need to hear a woman’s voice. I make twice the money I used to make in corporate finance. I work from home, and the money transfers into my bank account daily.’

I reckon that’s enough for now, hey?

OK, one more:

‘I am a straight male who speaks to women. They want me. They want me to take them to another world. I’m good at it. I’m a pro, a ladies’ man. I speak to younger women, I speak to older women. I speak both Spanish and English. I have been thrown offers left and right. They want me to meet up and have my way with them.’

Having seen that picture, I feel compelled to read the entire quote in a Mike Tyson voice.

If you want more from those phone sex professionals, you’ll find it here.

[source:guardian]