Call of the Day: lust and loathing from the littlest mommyfucker
Before I start, I want to clarify something. Since last November, I have been adding Call of the Day posts not necessarily in chronological order. That is to say, sometimes they are calls that happened actually that day, or maybe the day before. But sometimes they are descriptions of calls that happened 14 months ago. See, in November I realized that I had been doing a lot of call descriptions on Facebook over the previous two years. I wanted to concentrate my phone-sex commentary in this blog and, in most cases, expand the snippets into proper posts. So I gleaned all of my “call of the day” status updates, and have been finally writing up those older interactions, as well as more current ones.
So. Why the housecleaning opening paragraph? Because I want to update you on a particular caller, and his chronology here is a bit fucked up. If I didn’t clarify, it would seem as if everything with him has happened over the past two months, when actually it’s been unfolding for at least two years.
He is my youngest mommyfucker; he plays at being a petulant, demanding little boy, showing off his tee-tee to mommy and throwing little temper tantrums until I let him suck a grown man’s dick. In this post, I describe him and what I like about our calls. (The post is dated 12/27/12, but the call I’m talking about in it is probably from, oh, I don’t know, late fall of 2011?)
And then came his call on April 30, 2012. I had written it all down in Facebook; that’s why I can remember details. That night his voice went younger, but not that young, and he sounded unsure and a little sad.
“I want to touch men’s penises, but I don’t want to. I’m confused. … We play at things, you and me, and talk about things, but these are things that really happened. My daddy touched my penis.”
…
Baby, I have to ask you a question. Are we still in storyland?
…
“A little.”
Okay. [PAUSE to breathe carefully] You can tell me about anything, you know that, right?
“Yes. I was really glad you were here.”
Did something happen tonight that made you think about this?
“I don’t know, I’m just feeling different, I’m feeling confused. He touched me and that was wrong, and I didn’t want to like it, but I did. And I don’t want those men, but I want to be loved by them. I want older men.”
…
Honey, can I ask how old you are?
“Fifty.”
…
Ah.
“I really do want a daddy, but I can’t play with that, I don’t want to want that.”
[PAUSE]
Honey. Oh, honey. I know, I know.
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When I wrote up this call 10 months ago, I was careful to note that I did not know, a priori, if any of what he told me was real, but that didn’t matter, because whatever he said he wanted or seemed to want was what I needed to give him, and what I gave him was listening. That was true, and remains true.
And then? I didn’t take another call from him until Feb. 12, 2013.
Five days ago.
When I check cards and see that I actually did use to talk to a customer regularly, but it’s been that long, I’m never sure how much they’ll remember, and I don’t want to show that I know too much about them, either, so I give us both an out with “I think we’ve spoken before, but it’s been a while…” and then I kind of let my voice trail off and take my cue from them. This guy didn’t miss a beat, he said, “Yeah, I couldn’t call you back for a long time. I was scared. I didn’t want to call you back because during our last call I went to some really weird space.”
We talked about that a little more, and then we ended up talking about Daddy’s dick, and he got really manic and a little scared again, so I quickly interrupted: honey, do you want to go there right now? All he could say at that moment, because he was getting ready to come, was “yes, yes, YES”.
Sigh.
I’m not a therapist, but I hope to god he’s getting one, or at least a girlfriend who can listen really, really well, because this is getting close to the boundary of things I am not capable of…
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