Real giving is when we give to our spouses what’s important to them, whether we understand it, like it, agree with it, or not. – Michele Weiner-Davis
Being with two women at the same time has got to be, if not the most common male fantasy, a close contender for the title; really, how could it be otherwise? It satisfies his need for variety, boosts his ego, makes him feel virile and dominant, allows him to be stimulated by four hands and two mouths at the same time, and has lesbian undertones even if the two women don’t actually do anything with each other. From what guys have told me the ideal seems to be that the women already know each other (sisters, friends or whatever), but since this would require convincing TWO women rather than just the wife, the guy often settles for calling in a whore as girl #2. With rare exception such calls are entirely for the man’s benefit, either something he has talked his wife into or a love-offering she arranges herself.
They’re much more common than many of my readers might think; I would say as many as 5% of all calls I did in the years I was working were couple calls, and during my busiest years (2000-2002) I was doing about one a week. I don’t know if it’s that high in other parts of the country; perhaps New Orleans just puts people in a mood to experiment. And I’m pretty sure I got a disproportionate number of them because I like doing them and lots of other escorts in that time and place didn’t. I’ve never been sure why, except that couple calls take longer (usually the full hour) and women tend to be more finicky about the girl’s looks and personality than men are. In my experience it’s nearly always the woman who calls to set it up, probably because she wants to feel the girl out and make sure she isn’t buying “a pig in a poke”; since I get along with women just as well as I do with men, this was never an issue for me. It’s also possible that some girls dislike couple calls because they aren’t bisexual, but my male readers must understand that it’s a lot easier (both emotionally and physically) for girls to fake a homosexual scene than it is for guys; most of us just aren’t as hung up about it as y’all are, and besides whores are very practiced at faking arousal.
I, on the other hand, had no problem with lesbian scenes because I am bisexual, and I don’t mean just somewhat; I’ve had as many continuing relationships with girls as I have with men. But I don’t respond sexually to them in exactly the same way; the way I put it is, I’m attracted to men below the waist and women above the waist. In other words, my reaction to men is primal and visceral, but my reaction to women is aesthetic. I feel the attraction to a man in my guts, and I can’t tell from a picture whether I will be attracted to him or not; I have to see and talk to him. Women, on the other hand, appeal to my appreciation for beauty; I feel the attraction in my mind and heart rather than my guts. So for me, couple calls could be a special treat if the wife was pretty, and even more so if she found me attractive as well. I also liked them because they were easier and more comfortable on a number of levels; a man will never misbehave or try to mistreat a hooker in front of his wife, and she even does some of the work! And since I’ve never, ever heard of the cops using a couple as sting bait one can go in relaxed, without having to worry that the prospective client might be a Judas goat.
I suppose another issue some girls might have with couple calls is the potential for drama, but I had tension-defusing down to a science and only rarely had any problems; since I had already experienced a number of ménage à trois situations in my late teens I knew what to expect even on my very first couple call, and quickly developed a program to smooth the way. The first thing I always established after arriving was that the wife would be in control; I explained that since she might become jealous by seeing another woman touching her husband, she had to have the right to speak up if I did something to him or he did something to me which made her uncomfortable. Sitting close to both of them, I would point out that they had called me to help them experience something novel and exciting, but that it wasn’t for everyone so if the wife felt overwhelmed or freaked out she needed to say something immediately, because I had absolutely no desire to be the cause of marital difficulties. During this little speech the wife would usually listen intently, and I could often see an expression of relief cross her face; the husband for his part was nearly always looking at his wife’s face rather than mine, and might nod his head or agree with me out loud.
After this, the proceedings might go a number of ways, depending on the woman’s sexuality and open-mindedness. We would usually start stimulating her husband together, and I would arrange things so I could peek at her face to see how she was reacting. Then as the scene developed, I would usually hazard contact with her hip or waist; if she shrank from my touch I would not repeat it, but instead concentrate on pleasing her husband with her. This really didn’t happen too often, though; most women on such calls were at least “bi-curious”, willing to kiss another woman or be caressed or licked by her, but not to respond in kind. A fair number would do anything except go down on me, and some were every bit as bisexual as I am. Sometimes, it was established from square one that the husband would not be entering me, but I remember a few calls where the wife became so relaxed and/or excited that she changed her mind and decided it was OK after all. Usually they seemed pretty excited by the sight of their husbands taking me, but there was one funny little thing that often happened at this point. Apparently, when I’m excited I sound like I’m in pain, especially to a woman who has never before seen another woman actually being screwed in front of her. So very often she would ask, “Is he hurting you?” or even exclaim to her husband, “You’re hurting her!” (the latter sometimes punctuated by a slap on his shoulder or back). And this showed me that everything really was fine, because it demonstrated that she was genuinely concerned for my comfort and safety.
No matter how everything in between went, I always made sure he finished up with his wife if at all possible; it seemed to me the best way to prevent any remaining possibility of jealousy which might result from seeing her husband actually climax with another woman. And while they were coupling, I usually held her hand and kissed her; many women become extremely passionate kissers when near orgasm, and I honestly think my second favorite sex act in the world is to kiss a woman and hold her hand while she’s being taken by a man. My favorite? Having a woman hold my hand and kiss me in the same circumstances! Though most of a whore’s sexual response is by necessity feigned, it was rare that I had to fake excitement during a couple call. Afterward, we always relaxed together, talking and touching; if the husband went to the bathroom as men so often do right after sex, the wife and I might engage in a little whispered “girl talk”, and I would make sure she was happy and comfortable and had no lingering doubts about what had just happened.
Of all the couple calls I did in my career, few stand out from the general good memories, but the ones that did are worthy of note. Probably the strangest of these involved an American man with a Japanese wife who spoke no English at all; she just wanted to make love to me (but not vice versa) while her husband watched from a chair, fully clothed. But the cutest story involves a young (late 20s) local couple with whom I had a really good time, but would probably not still remember except for the fact that about one week later I was getting into my convertible (the top was down that day) in a Wal-Mart parking lot and looked up to see the same couple, coincidentally parked right next to me! There was an older woman (probably her mother) sitting between them, but that didn’t stop the girl from breaking into a broad smile and calling her husband’s attention to me. He turned and saw me, then grinned and waved. I’m sure they would’ve stopped to chat if not for the presence of the mother, to whom it might’ve been awkward to explain me.
Of course, they weren’t all good; there were a few times it was obvious the wife had no intention of carrying the arrangement out, and so found some excuse to send me away upon arrival (one haughty bitch simply waved me off, saying to her obviously-submissive husband “not within parameters”). Only once to my recollection did a wife press the panic button to stop the call; she was quite overweight and I assume my looks and figure intimidated her, because the poor thing burst into tears about 15 minutes in. I immediately quit what I was doing and gently asked her if she wanted to stop; she nodded while sobbing “I’m sorry!” and I assured her that there was nothing to apologize for, that this sort of thing wasn’t for everyone and that she didn’t have to do or see anything which might upset her. Her husband was also good about it (though obviously disappointed), and she quickly recovered and thanked me for my understanding and kindness.
But there were two couple calls which stand out above all others as examples of how badly things can go and how well they can go, respectively. When I first started writing this column I intended to discuss them today, but by the time I finished the first story I was already 400 words over my self-imposed length limit and still hadn’t even MENTIONED the second one, so I’ve decided to make those two stories into a column of their own. As the TV announcer used to say when I was but a wee lass, “Tune in again tomorrow, same time, same channel!”
To be continued…