Friday, April 22, 2016

guest writer, a friend and colleague

beautiful, heartfelt words:

"In all honesty, I just wanted to put it out there that Sex Work can be about Love too.
When trying to describe my work to mainstream folks - people for whom Sex Work is a mystery & full of stigma - I compare my work to that of a Therapist, a Healer.  
I have skills, inspiration, and passion for what I do.  I care about my clients.  I form a safe container for people to work through their shame, their isolation, and disconnectedness.  They tell me what they are looking for, and if it is within my skill level and I think we are a good match, we meet.  They give me money in exchange for these very valuable services.  I see people grow, I see myself grow.
I also want to make the point that, Sex Work is often just plain fun!  Simple as animal bodies coming together and exploring sex.  That alone is a valuable, needed service in the world. The weight of stigma surrounding Sex Work directly stems from the sexual repression in our culture - hatred/fear of the body, it's Old Old crap.  In the words of my co-worker - "It's sex people! Get over it!"
Another myth (and I'm sure you're already writing about this) - People believe that Sex Workers are all Victims.  That there is no consent.  On the contrary,  consent is the entire foundation I build my work upon.  In a Rape culture, where men are taught they can take without seeking consent, Sex Work is Vital.  I teach people how to respect one another at this very basic, animal level.   Don't get me wrong, setting and maintaining and teaching people about boundaries is a daily challenge, it's Work.  But it's extremely valuable, needed work.  It's changing the world.
I provide a service based around pleasure, opening, and healing.   It's very direct - human at the most fundamental level - a consensual exploration & exchange of intimacy.
Intimacy, sex and physical connection is essential to human life, period.
Sex workers provide a needed service to the world.  This work deserves a huge amount of respect. 
I believe there will come a day where whores are rightfully honored.
I believe there will come a day when people know that Sex Work is about Love too."

Monday, December 07, 2015

greed tapping my shoulder

Today after living my real life for a couple of squeezed together fast passing hours, I went for my weekly dread with old guy. He said he loved me 10 times at least. I just smile as an answer. What can I respond? He thinks I need orgasms and he provides them for me. I try to dissuade him from this opinion. He wants to please me. He is reading gluten free recipes and fantasizing cooking for me. He told me that he was always ugly and ladies didn't like him. He is still ugly but that is not why I can't return his love. He has a clock with birds instead of numbers. When the hour rings, birds tweet. He is hard of hearing but I love that sound, I have fulfilled my obligation and can leave. I let him finish whatever conversation he is always in the middle of. Then I apologize and say I must go. He knows our time is fleeting. He claims to treasure these 2 hours a week. He asks if I can go out to dinner with him on a regular basis. I went once recently with him to a japanese restaurant. He didn't pay me. I was waiting for an opportunity to let him know that all companionship comes with a cost, clothed or not. He is now informed.

I came upon this in my blog history as a draft. I hadn't finished. When I read it and recognized the person I was writing about, I felt guilty actually because this guy is in hospice right now dying. I felt the range of emotions with this client. He was old not by numbers, but by condition. He is younger than my father who is in great shape by comparison. I came to love Old Guy as I call him because I came to know him as a person who really loves people and wants everyone to be happy. I saw him cry when the Connecticut school children shooting happened, when it was the 50th anniversary of JFk's death, when he saw a show on children in Africa who were suffering and he wanted to give them all he had. Even when he constantly interrupted me, seeing his desire was to help overcame my usual feeling of annoyance. He contracted cancer and began treatment. The treatment seemed to debilitate him and he began losing coherence and mobility. I saw him last a month and a half ago, not knowing it would be the last time he was able to function as an adult. His care taking team has my number and updated me on his hospital stays and returns. I visited him once in hospice and stayed an hour. I felt uncomfortable there. I tried to touch him to comfort him but he was restless and kept saying "let's go!" but he was confined to his bed. I call the care team and find out he is still hanging on even he hasn't eaten solid food in weeks. I told her, "if he asks for me, I will come. " Meanwhile I await his ashes, as I am the signed and designated recipient to spread them in California where his wife's ashes are. I am honored to be the one he entrusted to do that. He said my agreeing to do that was "the nicest thing anyone ever said to him." And while I'm on the subject let me tell you about his stepchildren. He married their mom after they were grown and she had more money than he had, as in assets. These went to him and then will go to her children when he dies. Since I allowed him to take pictures of me and he blew them up into huge (and not attractive to me) framed wall hangings, his step children on the rare once a year occasion that they visited him were told, "That's my girlfriend." I chided OG for telling them that but he innocently protested that they were excited to meet me. Yes I did have to shatter his fantasies by informing him that they only were interested in their money and me as a possible taker of their inheritance. So the stepson convinced OG that he wanted to meet me for lunch and I said let me call him. That day on the phone, clarity and honesty possessed me in tandem and I just told him straight up, "I am not after your money, so if that is your concern, don't worry." That is the distilled version. As I was talking, I was impressed with what I heard coming out of my mouth. I must have set his fears to rest because no more lunch invitations were forthcoming. I just hope when OG dies and I will request plane fare and 1 night hotel to do the ashes from the step children that I get it. If not I will finance the trip on my own dime because I know I am the one living person who loves and appreciates him the most.
The pain of living in this body and the joy of living in this body. Simultaneously true. Completely ambivalent. That grasshopper, is the answer of life.
Last night I couldn't sleep because I ate baked brie (dairy) and bread (gluten) As my boyfriend complained, I was making noise out of all of my orifices. A lovely vision. At 5 in the morning my hands felt my pubic hair and its surroundings, my thighs and my belly. All that skin and softness and loveliness felt good to my hands. I thought how rare it is for me to celebrate my own yearnings, my own instincts, that emanate from my own pussy. I only use her to please others. How unfair it is to subject her to that position. I tried to excite myself with my finger and gave up quickly. I am totally spoiled by the electronics of vibration and my finger just can't compete. a few more minutes of sleeplessness and I tried again this time conjuring up a fantasy I don't think any porno site has enacted. The originality of my fantasy was compelling. There were 2 women. One I was watching first as an instruction before it would be my turn to submit to the pleasures that I saw her submit to. Every time I felt my boyfriend stir, I stopped and waited until he settled so he wouldn't interrupt me. Finally my finger succeeded in getting me off to a different orgasm than I usually experience when I am working and using my hitachi wand.
I read this article from a friends FB page.
and totally resonated with it.
As a ho, of course I play along but not totally. I sense guys who say they only care about my pleasure want me to respond with praiseful exuberance, which I cannot fake. Instead I bring them to earth telling them that is a common theme, (which is true) and perhaps is a pendulum swing from the 'men are only concerned with themselves and their cocks' era that most men are no longer dwelling in (at least men I interact with).
And a very interesting idea came to me this evening as I lit the Chanukka candles. I prayed for enlightenment and that I might be a vehicle for the enlightenment of others. Isn't that the same idea as men wanting to be vehicles for women's pleasure. I want to be the one who brings enlightenment. Seems pretty egotistical, if I do hear so myself. There is a book floating around my house, Cutting Through Spiritual Materialism, by Chogyam Trungpa which advised me that getting past one's ego is the beginning of the Bodhisattva Path which is my grandest aspiration, but I fear it contains fragments of ego gratification as well. For those not versed in these ideas, A Boshissatva 1. (Buddhism) (in Mahayana Buddhism) a divine being worthy of nirvana who remains on the human plane to help others to salvation.
[Sanskrit, literally: one whose essence is enlightenment, from bodhi enlightenment + sattva essence]
paraphrase: one who effortlessly enlightens others by their presence and being and love without being gratified by the results. ego necessarily cannot be a part of the equation for this to be effective.

But I am gratified when my clients tell me how I enhance their lives or that the thought of me in their future gives them purpose to carry on. And I understand why men want to make women wild with passion and pleasure. it is fun and completely gratifying. So I posted this because I saw the parallels tonight and feel humbled by this realization.

Friday, September 18, 2015


this blog hosting has the possibility to see the number of views of each entry. As statistics is one of my hobbies, gleaming for useful data, I found that in the beginning when I wrote a lot I did not et a lot of views. then I looked at which titles got the most views which I am going to attribute to SEO. The winner was "tiny puny cock" at 685. Second was "A tale of two cocks" at 432. Other popular titles were "MILF power," "painful like the dentist" "golf and blow jobs" and "Long time no post" also the period from 7/10 to 3/11 I averaged 75 views per post.
What does it mean?

woo woo

I just came to my blog and read my last post and thought it was awesome. I am writing tonight because I feel like making truth known. That is always my objective and greatest pleasure. Yesterday I spent the day with a client in a very nice location, his house. Recently separated he is spreading his wings of freedom. I like this guy and I can't figure out why. I value and seek self-awareness obsessively. He seems not to know what that is,much less aspire to it. There is no actual concrete reason I can grasp that explains why I am thinking of him today and why I had a great time yesterday. It is not the sex, but hey I'm a hooker and sex is 99.9% of the time included so I will discuss it. While engaging in sexual acts, I aim to be present and self aware and curious as to what is going on with me. I do not feel horny, but I expect to engage so I am ready to act into it. I notice he is seducing which is rare enough that it catches my attention and I try to inquire into the barriers I feel arising to resist it. I want to see what the barriers are and what purpose they are serving me. While I am contemplating this, I also have to perform according to cues and so I sigh, arch, groan, moan etc. While I am noticing my behaviors, I am judging them as hot and then finding them interesting to witness. I try to allow my body to respond aligning  with how I am acting my response, with mixed results. This is as far as I got with it, no answers or explanations or theories.
Between sex we drink wine, talk, take a walk in the nature. meet tourists and have them take a picture of us as a couple. We don't know each other well because we have spent an hour together 20 or 30 times, half of it taken up by non-verbal activity. I feel myself insecure with what I am sharing. Wondering if he is even interested in the way I think about the world. It seems 180 degrees opposed to him, although we have politics and liberal ideas in common.
I felt taken care of and I thought about this more this morning. I am attracted to men who I feel safe with, taken care of like I can relax. (can they relax?) I wondered if this related to my dad and the answer was no, I did not feel taken care of by him, although I'm sure I was. My grandpa made me feel taken care of. I rode in his Cadillac in the front seat on that pullout high seat (without a seatbelt or carseat back in the day). He constantly kissed me (which I did not relish, but endured) He told me where we were going (usually to his client's house), that he loved me. My adult brain imagines that I felt monetarily secure, although do children feel that? He wasn't anxious or withdrawn, he was only thrilled to be with me. I felt treasured and adored. Not in control, but in loving, safe hands.
I tried to remember if I ever felt like that with a woman and my dad's mother came to mind. When I was at her house I was taken to the candy store on the street corner and told, "Get what you want, sweetheart." followed by "Eat what you want, sweetheart." There was no limit to the amount of sugar I was allowed. We baked things together and played 500 rummy at her kitchen table while the goodies were in the oven. When my mom took us home, she smiled beatifically at the car window, blowing kisses and waving. I felt sad to leave her, the font of so much love. Her body was big and mushy. Her hug was like being enveloped by soft flesh.
I didn't want to leave my client, but I also did want to have my life as I live it. It wouldn't be the same feeling if it progressed into a relationship, I am sure of that. I love my boyfriend and his emotional accessibility. He also adores me and expresses it and makes me feel like the queen of love.
Then I went to see old guy today. I am the highlight of his week. He tries to take care of me and I appreciate his efforts. He buys wine and snacks, he sets out a glass of water for me. He tapes things on TV he thinks would interest me and lends me books and videos. He would buy me a $7000 dollar trip if I would take it with him, his last hurrah. I am not tempted to go. [let me also say the trip would be paid for, but I would not earn money as a companion. This fact is relevant] I know it would be a test of my endurance which I would fail. I am sad that I can't give him this gift that would be so great for him. I give my realistic excuses. But when I really want to do something, I make it happen. when in the past I wanted to travel with the man who became my boyfriend, I went to San Francisco with him and Chicago. In memory those were days I felt taken care of by him. I bought no airfare, booked no hotel and he manifested it all with a car waiting with his name on it, a bottle of chilled champagne in the room. An excellent restaurant with reservations. He reminded me of James Bond. Perhaps this is wooing behavior and I got wooed, moving into a relationship where daily tasks take precedence over romance. These paid hours are rare treats where the effort and energy of romance can flow in designated intervals . Reminds me of Esther Perel's book Mating in Captivity.

Monday, March 16, 2015

I haven't written in a long time. I write in my mind and it never gets through my fingers. Now sitting here I can't remember what it was… Always the beauty of humanity of people that I see from every angle, that I am so lucky they share or let me witness. I can't believe I am a menopausal woman and still  I have so much business. I am proof that stereotypes of male superficial desires of female embodiment of perfection and youth are not across the board. Men in their 70's and beyond are looking for a peer or closer to a peer. A twenty something woman is often disgusted by a man with wrinkles. I was like that when I was in my 20's. My oldest client is 90. What a joyous appreciating man he is. My client who seems oldest (the least healthy) has asked me to be the one who spreads his ashes when he dies. He claims it is the nicest thing anyone has ever agreed to do for him. His wife died a couple years ago and I will go where he spread her ashes, to mix them together. I have a map. It is out of state. He has no children. I am the closest person to him. He has home health nurses too. I recently took him, as part of our weekly rendezvous, to deliver a stool sample to the clinic. This is my job. The veneer of sex makes the man able to seek out the connection of human companionship and sharing. The flexibility of sex work is governed only by how each individual person chooses to enact his/her sharing is not governed by laws of ethics and morality because it is outside the laws. It is illegal but it is often moral.
Oh and this. I am also a therapist, and I have become frightened of telling that as a truth because that job is governed by strict laws of ethics and morality determined by a board and enforced by the state. Of course these 2 personas never the twain shall meet…. I hope. My sex client wanted to become a therapy client. He probably figured he knew me well enough to trust me and had issues in his real life that weren't resolving. He came to my other office and we interacted clothed. It didn't feel right. Although he knew I wasn't judging him, yet he wasn't able to tell me truly what was troubling him. We tried 3 times and then he wanted to go back to the other version of me. Ethically I had to wait 2 years and even if my odds of getting caught disobeying that mandate were slim, I wanted to follow the laws since that profession has them. We waited 2 years. He returned as a sex client. He still wanted to be able to talk to me sometimes about his real life issues so we renamed our interaction "Intellectual Exchange." That way I could determine the ethical laws of how it could be done. We did the talking after the sex work (for half the price of sex work). We did it naked and stoned. Wow! it was so much better than sitting clothed in my office. He was able to be honest and vulnerable and I was able to use techniques that are not psychologically labeled, yet have the same results. That day we were able to figure out his problem and he has dealt with it successfully. This is my greatest happiness. I'm telling the blogosphere but anonymously. I am so happy to be of true service to others. I read that as a Jew, this is what the Torah teaches is our purpose in life, so the God, that I don't believe in, would see me as ethical.
What am I doing in this post? I am kinda bragging of my job satisfaction and benefit to humanity. Why am I doing it? I have a fantasy that I say to some random person someday, "I'm a sex worker." and they say, "Wow! that must be such a satisfying job." instead of "Wow! that must be awful and you must hate it." and secretly think, 'you must have been abused as a child and not feel worthy of a better life.' I am debunking myths. Please participate.

Thursday, September 05, 2013

Two Odes

Ode to Sexuality
Ode: A lyrical stanza in praise of, or dedicated to someone or something which captures the poet's interest or serves as an inspiration for the ode.
I love you sexuality
I live your diversity
I honor your healing properties
I am awed by your strength and perseverance
I thrill by your revelation
I admire your enactment
Your tenacity proves
That your acceptance is inevitable
Your permutations are endless
Your scope constantly amazes me
Your resilience is endless
Your beauty is breathtaking
I celebrate your appearance
In every consensual manifestation
I rejoice in your existence
Making life infinitely more exciting.

Ode to Clients
You bring me yourself
And I never know what going to emerge
Even when you use acronyms or code words
Your enactment is going to be uniquely yours
And it's going to pull from me a response 
that is wavers around my core 
but always a different version of the wave
That's what I endlessly live /love discovering
What you pull from me.

Thursday, April 11, 2013

"It's not the worst thing in the world, In fact its quite awesome" My constant argument

Today as I do every Thursday I visited "old guy." He is in his 70's, not my oldest client, but he seems like the oldest. I know his life history. His 3rd wife recently died. He is lonely. I wish he had friends and family, but he doesn't. He has me. He loves me. Sometimes I feel bad not returning his love but that is beyond my control, I love him in the universal sense of the word. I love his humanity and appreciate his beauty. He takes 2 viagras before I arrive. And his cock gets hard. This makes him so happy. He appreciates me for giving him a place to feel his maleness, even at this time late in his life. He tells me as much as words can, how much he appreciates me. He tries to imagine a future with me. I do not. I am as honest as possible in letting him down as easy as possible. He offers me more money. That is not what I am after. I am the highpoint of his week, his life.
My other client today was a recently separated man who isn't ready to begin a new relationship. He was married 21 years with 3 kids. He hoped to stay married as they promised, to death do they part. Suddenly his wife was not interested in sex and then also not in him. They remain friends. He said dating was scary, but being touched was like a food he was starving for. I was his first experience in this realm of paying. He said I exceeded his expectations, he was going to sleep well tonight and he booked a next appointment in 3 weeks.
On days like today, I feel like I am doing important and necessary work that feeds the soul of people in ways they cannot obtain otherwise. I am glad to be able to give that. I want the world to accept this as truth too. We almost have unanimous gay marriage. Transgender and Sex work are the next frontiers.

Tuesday, March 05, 2013

gateway drug

The first text he sent me I ignored. It said "Hi, How are you?" Not direct enough and who the fuck are you? I think a polite text gives one's name and a slight introduction. I am not always as easy as a gay hook up site. The next text was the same exact verbatim text, a couple days later. I wanted to work so I replied "Fine." He then continued with, "Are you available today?" (better than: are you free today?- no I am never free) I was booked but suggested the following day. By the time he texted me I was booked until 5:30 so I suggested 5:30. He said it was too late. Then at 5 he texted that he could make it at 5:30 and by this time I had politely asked and discovered his name. He said he had seen me before about a year ago. When he arrived, I didn't recognize him, but I knew he was 20 plus years younger than me. I asked him what we had talked about last time and after some small talk, Eureka! I remembered his job and said he had recently gotten an award at work which was correct. I asked if he had ever tried prostate massage because I always offer this delectable experience. He said, I had suggested we should try it next time. Of course being a young'un he was good for "at least 2" orgasms so I waited to showcase the PM till the second. Sometimes it blows the guy up immediately. I was in there and sucking his dick in combination and he said, "It feels like I'm going to come. Should I tell you?" (how polite) I said, "I'll know. I can feel it." The prostate expands to twice its size during orgasm. He squirted and his comment was, "It was interesting." (understatement of the year) I said, "It's a gateway drug." and I meant, "You'll be wanting more variety of possibilities up in there soon." I was the only one quite amused by my comment. I also then asked if he had lost weight and come to find out he had lost 30 lbs. That also contributed to my difficulty in remembering him.

This was a draft I found so I am publishing it late
I sat on the porch the other night feeling this and wrote it fast on my phone.

Ode to Men

You bring me your Self.
And I never know what is going to emerge,
Even if you use acronyms or code words
Your enactment is going to be uniquely yours.
And its going to pull from me a response that is wavering around my core but an ever expanding version of that wave.
That's what I endlessly live/love discovering.

On the keyboard o and i are next to each other so I meant to write Love but I wrote Live and then I realized they were both true. That is why they are called smartphones.