Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Readers Rock

My husband is a genetic mutation in his family by about 20 IQ points. His cousins made fun of him for being "a reader." As in, someone who enjoys reading. I loved him even more for being utterly addicted to words in the face of adversity.

When I started this blog, with the intention of exposing and exploring every aspect of the phone sex part of my life (and the phone sex part of my life involves a lot of me), I hoped that people who read my blog would bring a deeper connection back to phone conversations, and that it would enhance both of us.

Oh yeah, I was right. Readers rock.

My first reader-call backwash was shortly after Tip For Phone Sex Callers when a lusciously deep, slightly gruff voice greeted me by saying, "The blog said you hate having to guess who's calling you... let's see how good you are at it." My heart leapt into my throat, pounding, and my palms started sweating. And then I guessed wrong. WRONG. Have I mentioned how much I dislike being wrong?!? Grrrrr. Thankfully, he gave me other hints while I floundered, and I figured it out. Whew! Then I realized it... you JERK it had been two whole weeks since he had called me, and he still made me GUESS who he was. I have other callers with delicious gruff voices, you know! GRRRR. /slap. It was mock-anger, but I did think, "Oh shit, maybe I've made a mistake by revealing so much in the blog."

The most intense interaction was the morning I wrote Wet Dream Morning. I was crawling out of my skin wanting to be fucked, and blogged about it (semi-incoherently, I realize now when I re-read it... embarrassing!), and I was indeed rescued by a Knight in Shining Armor who took the edge off for me, helped me go about my day in a much less addled state. If I hadn't blogged about it, it probably would have been a couple of hours before anybody called, and it wouldn't have been the same level of focused intensity. I've seriously considered lying and writing another one of those because it turned out so well! But no, it wouldn't be the same. I'll just treasure the memory of that one instead. Best blog entry outcome ever. Thank you again, Knight /blowkiss

Then Saturday I got a mail from a gent who claimed to have read my whole blog - from the first post to the last - all in one big rush. What an honor! As I told him, I always thought that anybody who would read my entire blog before calling me would probably end up being a favorite long-term relationship. Then we both realized the enormous pressure I had just put on both of us, and I was laughing and saying, "Oh, great, now what if I suck and you hate me for wasting all your time?" and he was laughing and saying, "What if I'm totally boring?" Note to self: don't do that again! But no, FAR from being boring, he outlined a fantasy and specifically incorporated ideas from the blog in the hopes that I would be engaged (he figured out how to have me constantly ask him, "Is this ok? Do you like this? Is this what you want?") . So he got his fantasy, and I got a constant stream of reinforcing feedback, and together, it was, to quote him, WONDERFUL.

But last night was the one I didn't expect. Someone left me a stream of comments on blog entries, and I can't figure out who it is! If it's a caller I've had, he's obfuscating well. But I think it's someone who has not called me before, and now I'm DYING to talk to him. Of course, this happens on a week when I have a bunch of personal commitments and I'm logging in sporadically. Of course. Because we all know how much I love drawn-out waiting games that require patience. Oh, wait, no, you don't know that - I HATE THEM. Well, okay, maybe 25% of me is amused and aroused by the cat-and-mouse game, but most of the cast of characters in my Inner Dialogue are just annoyed that we have to wait to meet the mystery commenter. You don't want to piss off actors, trust me. Then tantrums are thrown, furniture is tossed about... it gets ugly.

I'm looking forward to more phonesex-to-blog-to-phone sex interactions. Rock on, readers! \m/


  1. Don't fret love. I won't be home for several months and as much as it thrills me to keep you breathless and waiting, I feel I should be as honest with you. But, rest assured - I am reading and soaking you in. I've quickly found it to be one of the things I look forward to in my typically boring day. Please carry on.

  2. Johnny: Several. Months. Tell me you're kidding. Please. Or get Skype to get a temporary American phone number to avoid international charges (oh, the things I've learned in six weeks).

    But seriously, thank you for letting me know you won't be calling any time soon so I stop holding my breath a little when the lady on the phone says "a new caller is on the line" wondering if it'll be an old man with an islander accent. Well. Maybe I'll still wonder just a touch.

    I'm glad you look forward to me.

    Carrying on now...