Unknown Name-Unknown Number
It wasn't one of those regular rings; it was the special ring. I sighed. Damn, time to work. I glanced at the call display. Who do these John's think they are? Man, the nerve!
“Hello”, I answered in my most feminine voice.
No one spoke, but I could hear breathing on the other end of the phone. It sounded quick and scared. Waste my time on another prank phone call , I thought. Since my new ad appeared in the paper, I've received about two or three pranks a week.
“So…are you going to say something buddy…” I cooed. ”…or is the speakerphone not loud enough? …testing one-two-three…”
8
About two weeks ago, I got a call from a group of guys. It was a prank. I knew it, but I played along.
“Hello”
“Is this Joy?” the caller asked.
“Yes it is. Can I help you?” I was as polite as the minister's wife. I heard shuffling in the background and pretended to ignore it. At this point in the conversation, I would usually snap a quick “Fuck off” and hang up, but I was in a shit-disturbing mood. I was bored.
“Well…” the voice continued “…I was wondering if you were available for tonight”. His manner of speech was well composed and smart-assed and dripped with dual implications. It was just the right combination for an all-grown-up asshole. All that was needed was a pompous attitude. All things come with age.
“Of Course, I am available tonight between 9 and 11pm. What did you have in mind there big boy?” I was a coy as a three-year old asking for a candy. I was lying on my stomach, legs up behind me and crossed gently at the ankles. My head tilted to get the best camera angle with my ear to the phone. I was twirling my hair, my real hair, and talking as seductively as the classic Mae West. Come Up and See me sometime…I giggled. It was the picture of erotic perfection.
“I would really like to have sex with you…” the voice returned.
“Really?” I giggled again in a convoy of climaxing concertos getting higher with each syllable. “Tell me more…I want to know everything”. Each breath dripped with seduction like seventies porn without the music. I rolled over onto my back and fixed the urge to scratch myself.
“Well…” the voice quivered “…what would you like to know?”
I could sense the excitement in his voice. This is exactly what he/they wanted. I spoke as if time was slowing down placing extra emphasis on every word.
“I want to know everything. What is your name there big boy?”
This is no way to do business , my inner businesswoman screamed. Especially after all the busts that had been happening lately. But fuck it , I thought, I was having some fun for a change . Not like I have much of it in this line of work.
“Jeff…my name is Jeff.”
I repeated his name is several ways. I let each letter form in my mouth and placing extra erotic emphasis on each incarnation before it escaped my lips.
“I like the way that feels, Jeff. Do you like that?”
“Yes…” he gulped “…Yes I do.”
“Do you like to use your mouth, Jeff?”
“Hell Yeah.”
“Good.” This was beginning to get boring. I figured it was time for the kill. I did have to get back to work.
“I would like for you to use your mouth on me, Jeff. Can you do that for me?”
A faint gasp was heard. Then a composing gulp as ‘Jeff' started to speak again.
“Yes. I can do that.”
“Where would you like to start, Jeff?”
“Your lips?” he questioned.
“No, lower”
“Your Breasts?” I could hear his pulse beating faster. The blood in his veins thumped against the earpiece of the phone.
“No Jeff, lower”
He paused as if it was his final stroke.
“Your…” He stammered into the phone. The words escaped him. The word he so desperately wanted to say would send him off in erotic never land, at least for him.
“What Jeff…I want to hear you say it?”
I glanced over to the coffee table where the final copy of my ad lay. I remembered that I had to call the paper. My ad read- “ Hot T-girl 36-28-36 in/outcalls Call Joi: 416-827-3541” . I hate it when they spell my name with an “I”. Incompetent assholes.
“Come on Jeff…tell me.” It was time for the kill.
“Your pussy” he quipped. The word ran off his tongue as if it burned.
“No. Jeff.” My voice deepened to normal. It became forceful.
“I want you to suck my cock, Jeff. You can start by letting me face-fuck you. Is that OK!” I returned to the seductiveness of Joy. “…Jeff?”
The receiver exploded with jeering and laughter. I pulled the phone away from my ear to prevent lasting hearing damage.
“What…I thought…FUCK YOU!”
I laughed aloud. What a performance! And the Oscar goes to…
“You just remember there, Jeff, you be nice to us Faggots. Who's gonna make you look good when your rich and infamous!” The phone slammed down hard. I doubt that it will be in working order after that one.
I hung up the phone. They had their fun for the evening. Poor Jeff won't be living this one down for a while.
8
I heard breathing on the other end of the phone.
“I was wondering if you were available for tonight, Ma'am.”
Ma'am?
The voice was gentle and soft, but masculine. It was young and unsure, but determined. He knew what he wanted. I'm not sure that I'm it.
“Just call me Joy, kid. How old are you?” It was one of my obligatory questions when I doubt the age of the client.
“I'm 23. I would prefer to call you Ma'am. Ma'am.”
I felt an invisible shift of power onto me like a coffee cup filling with hot liquid. I like the way it felt, but it burned me on the inside. This kid had no idea that I was a man. I felt guilty. I had to figure out a way to let him know without scaring the shit out of him.
“Sure, honey, what ever floats your boat? What's your name?”
“Chris, Ma'am.”
A picture of him jumped into my head. He was a scrawny little kid who had never been with anyone sexually. Not horrible looking but nothing a little makeover wouldn't hurt. He was probably a computer geek with the glasses and a pocket protector. And come to think of it, probably lots of cash.
“What can I do for you Chris?” His mental picture danced in my head as I tried to keep myself from laughing. Be professional, girl. Money is money.
“Well, I'm looking for …for ah…” He stammered like a groom asking for his bride's hand in marriage.
“Spit it out honey.”
“Um…yes Ma'am…I am looking for a sergeant that can show me the ropes, Ma'am”
I was floored. Great. Another virgin. This kid was barking up the wrong tree.
“Where did you get my number?” I rolled my eyes waiting for the response
“Do you remember a few weeks ago a call from Jeff, Ma'am?”
That statement surprised me. How could I forget. I was very clear with Jeff. Was this kid just not paying attention to the conversation? Or did he really know?
“Were you there Chris?”
“Yes Ma'am. I felt bad the way that Jeff was treating you.”
“So you know what I am?”
“Yes, Ma'am. That's why I'm calling you.”
Ok that explains a little more. The kid is coming out.
“Have you done this before, Chris?”
“No, Ma'am, not with a guy.”
There it was. The pussy was out of the pantyhose. I felt a bit relieved. I'd had virgin clients before. They were not my favourite type of client. They usually fell in love with me and provided more drama then the cash they spent.
“You understand that there's a price for my time, right?”
“Yes Ma'am. The girls are the same.”
Well he's not a virgin with girls then. I still don't understand why he is coming to a transsexual for his first gay fuck. I considered the price, both financially and emotionally. Was I willing to “show him the ropes”? Or was he a stalker friend of Jeff, seeking his revenge? He needed more then to get off. Was I in the mood to answer all the questions? All of my dates have them same ones when they are new to me. ‘Do you want to be a woman?' ‘Are you like this all the time?' I drew in a breath and told myself what the hell. It was cash if I had sex with him or not.
“Ok, I am available now Chris, if you are up to it?”
“Yes Ma'am.” His voice had a hint of excitement. Ok he was serious. I quoted the price for my time: two-hundred bucks an hour. He agreed. I gave him the instructions to get to my place. He agreed again.
“You're not going to stand me up now Chris, I am a busy woman.”
“No Ma'am. I will be there. Is half an hour OK?”
“Sure Chris. Now don't be late, Soldier”
“Yes Ma'am. Good-bye Ma'am.” I felt him salute.
He spoke with a fervour and excitement equal to receiving a medal of honour. I hung up the phone and started to get ready. Even if he wasn't going to show up, I needed to put a face on for work later, at least.
Nevertheless, I had a feeling that he would be there anyway.
