El reverso del sexo

¿Qué pasa cuando uno llama a una hot-line? Phillip Toledano reflexiona sobre los operadores de estas líneas en su proyecto fotográfico Phone Sex Operators. Este empleo no es solamente rentable, sino también es una manera de dejar volar la mente y los deseos hasta el infinito en un campo que para algunos es el principal generador de vida. La esencia del acto se ha perdido, pero ese es el precio que hay que pagar si uno quiere librarse, de una manera más o menos fácil (desde su propio hogar), de ese gran represor que adopta una diversidad de nombres (sociedad, moral, fe, cordura, razón… o simplemente "Otro").
El libro se llama Phonsex. Las fotos están a cargo de Toledano. Los textos son de Laura McClure, Gary Moskowitz, y Mark Murrmann. Twin Palms, Septiembre 2008.

The Ladies Man.
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I am a straight male who speaks to women.
I'm good at it. I'm a pro. A ladies man.
I speak to younger women. I speak to older women.
I have been thrown offers left and right.
They want me to meet up and have my way with them, but I keep it only to phone conversations.

The Worst Call.
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Just last night I received possibly the most disturbing phone sex call I’d had in a long time.
A caller shot himself with me on the phone.
Things like this always scare me.
My current track record stands at one confession of incestuous sexual abuse, and two other suicides.

Scheherazade.
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I'm 60 years old, I have a BA in cultural anthropology from Columbia University, and I've been married for 25 years.
I make twice the money I made in the corporate world.
I work from home; the money transfers into my bank account daily.
I'm Scheherazade: If I don't tell stories that fascinate the pasha, he will kill me in the morning.

Ray, the Love Doctor.
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My name is Ray. I've been having phone sex off and on for 14 years.
I was 19 when I started to embrace my sexy self.
I see myself as a love doctor, or even a psychiatrist. I am a Venus or goddess of love.
I create a sense of community for my regulars, including
the closeted & married bi or gay men.
I try to heal the wounds that our closed-minded society inflicts.
It may sound weird, but it's true.
We as people should learn to talk and listen to our neighbors and share our inner light.
I wish the world was run by phone sex operators.

"I Am Their Drug."
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I find that most of my regular callers form some sort of bond with me—almost an addiction.
I am the one they come to for punishment if they feel the urge.
The one they come to for discipline, instruction, and permission.
I am their drug.



Self-Esteem.
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I got into phone sex because I thought:
'Why not get paid for talking dirty, instead of doing it for free?'
It brings up my self-esteem up so much, knowing guys are looking at my pics and wanting to talk to me.
Wanting me to take them to a whole other place, fulfilling their fantasies. Painting that picture in their mind for them.



Sometimes You Laugh.
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Definitely the most amusing part about the job was when my partner would be in the room with me, usually reading while I worked.
She'd only hear my half of the conversation, so she'd either think it was absolutely hysterical or, sometimes, kind of sexy.
I'd usually try to avoid eye contact with her during a call, because I'd see her stifling a smirk and I'd start laughing uncontrollably.
Sometimes I could work that into the call; other times I really couldn't.




Lessons for Virgins.
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I learned to listen to men in a deeper way.
Tuning into men's voices, instead of getting caught up on their looks, was the same as a person suddenly going blind, only to find their other senses enhanced.
I think if all women did phone sex before they lost their virginity, they would make much better choices.

The Vegan Fetish Call.
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One of my most memorable calls was also one of the grossest.
It was a fetish call. A scat fetish.
I started out by telling him I was a vegan.
I cracked him up. He was laughing so hard, he had to hang up because he couldn't get back into our fantasy.


World's Strongest Woman.
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Gary was watching a "World's Strongest Women" show and saw a woman pick up a motorcycle. 'Oh, I could do that,' I said.
'Could you?' he responded, breathless. 'Oh my god...I'd like to see you lift up my girlfriend's car.'
'What kind of car does she have?'
'A Mazda Miata.'
A part of me may miss getting paid for this when I move on.


Imágenes: www.motherjones.com