One of the greatest achievements of my adult life has been overcoming my fear of making phone calls. I’m 26, and until a few years ago I found them terrifying and awkward. I preferred long-winded e-mails and apologetic “Sorry I missed you” text messages over actually having to talk to somebody. Thankfully, I have now grown up, but there is still one exception, shared by almost everyone I know: phone sex.
Before Webcams, Snapchat and video calls there was good old-fashioned dirty talk on the phone. No cameras, no texting, no pictures, just sweet, nasty nothings. It’s the OG of long-distance love, but most millennials consider it a bit … naff. Nudes have been normalized — one friend has a whole gallery of them known as the Archive on her phone — and I defy anyone to say they’ve not sent a single saucy sext in their life. But phone sex? It’s of the American Pie era, the Noughties world of lad mags and page 3.
