metaphysical pussy

authenticity vs fakeness

2011-12-12T23:00:00.000-08:00

I sometimes irrationally let my self esteem rise and fall with the amount of money I am earning. The simplistic logic I use is that if nobody wants me, I am worthless and if people call me, I am worthful. I know this is wrong, but I fall for it every time. I am in a lull such as this when I had no jobs for 2 days and then just 1 job a day for the last 3 days. Today a client whose phone number I recognized called me just as my therapy client arrived a few minutes early. I had to turn off my phone, but since my client had to use the bathroom, I had time for a quick text advising him I was busy for the hour and could see him later. I never heard back from him but I expected him to call on a last minute need and went to get ready for that. After I got ready I was going through my drawers looking for a piece of ribbon I could use to sew onto a cape costume. I was sure it would be floating around in one of my drawers. Instead I found $200. Sitting there for God knows how long in a card, in an envelope, I had probably forgotten in my haste to clean and prepare for an incoming guest. That was exhilaratingly exciting. I looked through the rest of the hundred empty envelopes hoping for a double whammy. When I never heard back from the client, I had an errand to run and during that drive, I got a call from an out of town visitor who had seen me this summer and wanted me to visit him this evening. I quoted him a reasonable next available time based on traffic, dog feeding and me eating needs and he agreed. Part of his deal was I meet him at a restaurant for a glass of wine. I explained that social time was an additional cost of half the usual. (I find that many people ignore this time spent if it is not articulated) He agreed. I was now in rush mode to finish the errand and drive through traffic ecetera. My smart phone which I love with all my heart is not that smart with directions. I type in the address and it changes it to something I can't logically fathom. I delete it and write the address again and it persists in its own idea of where I want to go. Alas I had to use mapqwest. Then the guy changes his mind while I am driving to a new destination which I pull off the road and punch into my map function. It tells me to go southeast. What the fuck direction is southeast? Of course the phone also has a compass on it and I try to figure it out using both these applications simultaneously. Miraculously I arrive at my destination. In the bar having a glass of wine, I am the one who makes conversation happen. Although it is difficult because I am just trying to amuse myself with knowledge and information but he seems to think I have an agenda and tries to thwart me. I wonder how it seemed to him. I imagine I was somewhat entertaining and authentic. That is the thing I am trying always to reconcile. I want to be real, because that feels good to me and I imagine to another person and then the situation calls for fakeness in some way that I try to bridge.

We go up to the room. There is no ipod dock. Shit! I brought my ipod. So silence instead of smooth jazz. The commercials of radio are distracting to me. He points to the bed which is a pristine expanse of whiteness. "See that," he asks me, "That's going to stay that way until I get into it for sleep so all our action is going to take place on this couch" I was shocked that he would sacrifice our comfort and spontaneity for his bedtime ritual, so I said with a mixture of authenticity and fakeness, "That is very original. I never heard anyone say that before." If I was being truly authentic I might have said, "You've got to be kidding me. How anal can you be?"

I took out my toys and paraphenalia and put it on the glass topped coffee table. He reminded me that he enjoyed nipple clamps and strap on. In the bar he told me he wanted me to teach him how to eat my pussy, but now his agenda seemed to have changed. "This session is all about me." he informed me. "The next one can be about you." Again here is the fine balance where authenticity and fakeness combine. I don't give a shit if he ever does anything for my pleasure. I am working. My pleasure is the least of my concerns, although his cock did look promising. I have to show desire but not dissappointment. I believe I succeeded because I bring a toy called the wii vibe that I insert inside me and it also rests on my clit so that under my strap on I am aroused and have pleasurable sensations. He kept telling me what to do like, "suck my nipples, stroke my cock" and then he's adds a "yes Ma'am" or "yes Mistress," I guess to make himself believe I was the one who commanded that. I do appreciate men letting me know what they want.

After he came he said, "I'm going to sleep well tonight." I had to comment on his comment. First of all it is the most common comment of men and I told him I also read in a book that is old (1988) and I think I found the book but I can't spend time going through it to find the quote but Dolores French in Working also wrote that this was the most common comment of men after an orgasm. I told him some version of this. (mix of authentic and fake again because I actually think its funny that they come and talk about their impending sleep) another common comment they make after an orgasm is, "Just what the doctor ordered." Which also cracks me up because it would be a pretty cool doctor who would ever say to the patient, "I think you need to have more orgasms." What I interpret from these comments is an acknowledgement from the client that I have helped them feel better so that sleep will be a better time or their well-being is enhanced because of our interaction.

2011-10-21T22:38:00.000-07:00

it’s 10 pm. I am eating dinner finally after a non-stop day. My favorite dish. Chicken with portobello and sourcream wine sauce over corkscrew noodles. I have done 3 loads of laundry today. 2 sex clients, one therapy clients. walked my dog twice. I think its time to relax and unwind.

The reason for so much laundry was so much peeing. My first client should start considering my incall his storage space for all the props and devices he designs and brings that all serve to make him my toilet slave which he wants to be but has to be forced into being. I know this sounds like a koan, which it is. [from dictionary.com (a nonsensical or paradoxical question to a student for which an answer is demanded, the stress of meditation on the question often being illuminating.)]

He brings devices to make his forced servitude more believable to both of us. One of our future sessions will include him being used orally by 2 men while I masturbate to his degradation. Today that only existed in spoken word, but I was surprised and delighted to witess he was able to jack himself into an orgasm during our repartee. I made him swallow his own come of course and then rewarded him with copious mouthfuls of pee. (Laundry load #1)

My second client I hadn’t seen in 2 years. He is 72 years old and if any of us look as good as he does at 72, we will be happy. He is a character you would expect to come across in novels. Brought up Irish Catholic, he reasoned early on that if it was the same amount of sin to look at a pussy or to fuck one, he might as well fuck and at least get some pleasure out of the deal for himself. He was always difficult to come although his goal was to suck my (according to him) huge clit and get me off which for some reason he never was able to do. I can’t explain why. I was always like 1 millimeter from the edge. Today was no exception, so I positioned him to use his fingers while I used my vibrator and viola! I am spoiled by vibrators perhaps. Then there was still the issue of his orgasm which he told me to stop pressuring him about, but when I said I had to go pee, he was very interested. I asked if he had ever been peed on and he said no so I got out 3 more towels and set them up under his head and pelvic region. I let my pee soak his face, mouth and then cock while he jacked himself off to the warm stream. This was the first orgasm I ever witnessed from him. He then sat on the couch eating pistachios and drinking a glass of wine explaining to me the way skid marks get on men’s underwear through farts. He prefaced this explanation by explaining that he heard the women of Sex and the City complaining about this phenomenom of men. He told me how he would wipe carefully, take a shower and still find annoying skidmarks on his underwear at night and therefore by power of deduction figured out that farts were responsible. Is truth any stranger than fiction?

I had to say goodbye because I had a therapy appointment which I must constrain myself from speaking about. and after that I came home to my beautiful dog, went online and updated myself on cyberworld, went back to do a second load of pee soaked towels, took her for a walk, cooked dinner, simultaneously doing a load of laundry at my house and wrote this entry.

After the fact

2011-07-23T20:10:00.000-07:00

At 4 the guy calls. It takes skill and patience to lead these horses to water. “Are you into leather?” he asks “Wearing leather?” I clarify. “Yeah!” “Well not exactly, I don’t have any but I have a PVC dress.” Is he into the dominatrix image or the material, I wonder. “Do you have any thigh high boots?” “ No, but I have thigh high stockings.” I probably need to invest in a pair of high leather boots. They are expensive. The PVC dress was $80. I don’t understand why the material matters. I detect a NY accent but his caller i.d. puts him in Minnesota. He schedules for between 5-5:30 and I leave my house at 4:30 to make sure I will be ready. I haven’t given him my address yet, so when I don’t hear from him by 5, I figure he is fucking with me. I leave a message on his voicemail letting him know I do not expect him. I am usually polite in my first call. I am extending the benefit of the doubt. My trip is not a complete loss. I do laundry, clean the floors and make the place ready in case I get busy tomorrow. I take my dog for her 2 out of 3 walks for the day amid the sound of a repetitive car or house alarm which is so loud I missed hearing my phone ring when the client called. I check VM and listen to his excuse that he was hung up in a meeting. Male corporate jobs sound as unpredictable as mine. He still wants to come over. I call him back and I give him my address. “Am I going to have fun?” he asks obnoxiously. “I believe so.” is my best version of a positive and true response. I feed my dog her dinner so she is sated and get dressed in my PVC and fishnet thigh highs. He arrives and I tower over him. I can tell by the look on his face that he is smitten. I prefer just to be my normal self, but when the occasion calls for persona, I can assume it. I lead him to my liar, offer him wine and sit him down so I can find out who and what I am doing. “I’m very submissive and very kinky.” he begins... This means nothing to me. A person’s definition of submissive and kinky is unique to them. I tell him I find this too vague and I ask definitive questions. He is of the genre, “I want to be Yours.” This does not fit me like a glove, but I understand and appreciate the role I should play to fulfill him. Isn’t it almost like a koan. It will totally please him if I direct him to totally please me but it would not really please him if I was truly honest in what would please me so I have to imagine how he would enjoy pleasing me and tell him that I am pleased by that so he can be pleased. reciprocity? mutuality? I don’t know the name for it but I recognize it. This is the definition of mental gymnastics!

He thinks I am gorgeous. He thinks I am magical. Every time I squeeze his nipples, tickle the insides of his thighs, it sends him into moans of pleasure. He repeats my name alternating it with God. I am both. I am his master, his ruler. He is mine, he loves me, He pledges his allegiance forever (while his cock is hard) I praise his obedience (prompted by his question, “Am I obedient?” He apologizes when his cock is not hard enough to fuck me. I waver here wondering if I should berate him for that (as part of the role) or accept and assure him that he is ok without that part of his anatomy behaving as prescribed. My true and accepting self wins out, unless he had told me he enjoyed verbal humiliation. After I fuck his ass and tantalize his most sensitive parts for an hour he is effusive in his praise for me. He asks if I am married. I hold my fist to his cheek to threaten him reminding him we are not in reality now and we’ll talk later. He tells me he loves me and in a sudden second of self consciousness says, “You must think I’m crazy.” But I don’t. I recognize this subset of male sexuality needing to be taken, to be consumed and to give up his will to a woman’s power. He is begging me to let him come. I say he can’t. I really want to turn around and check the clock to see if I should let him, but I worry it would be too obvious. To assert and prove my dominance over him, I say he cannot come. He writhes and moans, but not too much cause I have him handcuffed to the table. Shortly later I bring him to the brink again and make him promise that if I let him come, he will spill on my breast and then lick it off and taste it. Of course he swears he will obey me and doesn’t at the moment of truth,turning his face away to avoid my cum soaked nipple.

I clean him up and we are now 2 normal people, talking about our lives, our past lives. He was a junkie. Now he is sober. I admire that breadth of experience. He regrets wasting so much time. He is, by all outward appearances, a successful businessman. He is married. He shows me some pictures on his phone of a recent trip and his grandson. We goes to his next obligation and me to mine. Two ships passing in the night but touching at the helms.

the bane

2011-06-12T23:29:00.000-07:00

Its been so long since I wrote, it took me 3 tries to remember how to log in. I started writing this in my head yesterday while taking my dog on her morning walk. It was good then, but now its already fading. It was to describe Saturday nights activities. The guy flies in from out of town. He calls before he leave to ask for a 9 PM appointment and I agree with some difficulty. I rather not work on weekends, yet the unending need for money prevails. He calls back when he has his hotel room number and I arrive. In a darkened room he begins a passionate embrace. I try to follow each individuals lead and so I try to match his energy. I prefer a shy person who naturally defers to my lead. Soon we are undressed and he is going down on me. I notice that although I most probably would not be turned on anyway, the yeast infection that my dose of antibiotics I had to take for a recent earache, is leaving me feeling raw and irritated. Yeast infections are the bane of a vagina's existence. Antibiotics are a fool proof way to acquire one, but many other unknown and probably everyday occurrences can inspire them as well. They are not contagious and are easily fixable by a 3 day program of squirtng some white cream stuff up your cooch at night. I keep pushing his head away from me which I imagine would be a clue to one who was paying attention, to ease off with the pressure. No, instead he pushes against me. I allow this and try to provide a reasonable fascimile of enjoyment until alas, I must get him off me. I try to reciprocate in turn, but he says no. I soon learn he is worried about coming very quickly. This makes sense suddenly, all the passionate anxiety is his strategy to avoid his own demise. I however have other ideas. I have read about what is called in literature "premature ejaculation" but as Dr. Marty Klein calls "coming before you want to." (I prefer the latter.) It is caused by anxiety. Connecting yourself with the present is the antidote. Activities like looking into eyes of the partner and breathing are ways to become more present to the actual moment. I suggest these techniques but call them "distractions" so I should not sound too woo woo for him. I ask him to look in my eyes. Not surprisingly he is not able to do this. I continue asking in sweet ways. At this point I believe my purpose is to serve him in a real way instead of trying to circumvent his problems and make him feel manly. I feel like talking openly is for his benefit. I ask him to let me massage his back. He assumes the position, but the whole time is massaging what parts of me he can reach. I interpret this as anxiety to give to me and so not allowing himself to receive. I ask him if that is difficult for him to receive. He says it is selfish. I ask him if he thinks there is a difference between selfish and self-careish. This is another linguistic reframe of Dr. Klein. He doesn't bite. His dick is nice and fat so I tell him I want to fuck him. He can barely stand me putting the condom on him. He thinks he will come from that. I let him try to put it on himself. He comes rolling on a condom, but not in an expression of pleasure. It looks more like agony. Now I wonder if he will want to get rid of me, or go for round 2. He wants more and so we talk and fondle more. He touch is like sandpaper to my poor pussy and I try to find ways to make it not hurt. When he is ready for round 2, he manages to fuck for a minute before coming. I notice that he holds his breath as he thrusts and I mention that afterwards. "That's not good?" he asks. "Well why hold your breath when you're doing physical exercise." He tells me long and involved stories about his wife and grown children and his dog who I could tell he loves more than any of them. His wife is "not interested." I ask if perhaps he adapted to coming fast because he knew she wanted it to be over with. He thought that was an interesting question. He told me so many boring stories, I was dying to leave. It had been 2 hours. It was the weekend. I was dressed and moving towards the door and he brought up a conversation about a comedienne who he hated but yet he knew a lot about her and was telling me. Waiting for a natural break in his ongoing monologue was not happening. Finally I blurted, "I gotta go" and I did. I actually would like to see him again and continue progressing on his anxiety. He doesn't get to come my city too often.

a short synopsis

2011-03-30T23:31:00.001-07:00

I am too tired to write tonight so I will pretend this is twitter format and say something brief.

I spit into his open mouth. He begged for it. Afterwards he enthusiastically thanked me for my saliva donation. He was the most ultimate sub I had ever experienced and the spit was something I had never been moved to force onto someone before. I encouraged him to resist me fucking his ass with my strap on, so I could force him to take what I wanted to give. He called me Master. I decided I like that better than Mistress or Goddess. I was jealous and repulsed simultaneously of his ability to submit his will and body so completely to me. I peed in his mouth but told him not to swallow it. I had drunk coffee earlier which makes the pee taste bad (so the afficianados tell me) After he licked my asshole, I found his mouth less appealing. When he leaves his brain is scrambled with guilt or ???? All I pick up is he wants to escape.

so much for tweet format. I am incapable.

tales of the (i)phone

2011-03-30T03:26:00.000-07:00

This guy calls today and leaves a voicemail. First he introduces himself by name and asks what part of town I am in. Then tells me his height and weight which I suppose he considers impressive. To me those are 2 meaningless statistics. And that he works out 5 days a week. At the end he says he wants some “pampering.” I have a strong aversion to that word- no explanation. If I was my politically incorrect son, I would say, ‘it sounds gay.’ (And as Seinfeld would say not that there's anything wrong with it) One more irritating tidbit, in closing he calls me “Sweetie.” Mildly annoyed but not offended, I return the call. Having compassion for most of humanity, I know he deserves that at a minimum. But what was his purpose? To entice me? Make me say, “You sound really hot.” which I would never say because it feels like a forced response. I am just friendly and polite, maybe alittle playful. He repeats his numerical statistics again. I would enjoy answering, “I don’t give a rats ass. You are dollar bills and I like you no matter what you look like.” He elaborates on how important it is to take good care of yourself and be the best person you can be and he sees other people his age who do not follow that motto with undesirable results. He repeats the P-word again. Asks twice if I have anything tonight which I answered no to twice. Do they think I didn’t hear them correctly the first time or that I am lying and will change my mind about it after a second chance or ????He has to check his schedule and call me back. We left it at that.

I believe I could get over my distaste for his treasuring of numerical data about himself, if I understood its secret meaning. On my website I don’t write my measurements. or my weight. I have pictures, so they get the idea. I do claim my height since that could be a preference thing for some. My height matters cause I’m getting paid. Theirs doesn’t cause they are paying. Any insights are welcome.

The other day a wanker called me. So titled because he is trying to use me by phone to get off. Am I offering phone sex? No. I felt off my game because I let him get away with it. He probably was pretty polished about the way he slid himself into it. The scenario I was supposedly going to join him was multi-hours with his girlfriend. Spoken with an English accent, “And we play these games you know and I thought you could pretend to be her mother and teaching her how to have sex” Ok, that sounds hot. He asks me my boundaries and goes on to envision very extreme scenes we can all 3 engage in. I am not really encouraging, yet playing along. As he continues, he brags that she is really young, 18 years old but looks even younger. Now I’m getting nervous. I told him I’d be checking her I.D. I am actually wondering if I can enjoy an 18 year old and feel suspect of his claim that she looks younger. So is he secretly into kids? “The line that chilled our conversation was his, “Yeah but when I’m on top of her fucking her ass, she looks 13. It’s amazing!” I responded, “I wouldn’t want to fuck a 13 year old.” “Why not?” he asked as if I just refused a bottle of the best wine. “Maturity levels.” I replied. I wish I had remitted a more pointed retort to that. But I do believe that a fantasy with consensual adults is cool. Taking advantage of underage kids is wrong. (and there is always grey areas.) He promised to call me back to schedule and I knew he wouldn’t.

back and forth

2011-03-09T23:43:00.000-08:00

Today was non-stop back and forth. Exciting and tiring simultaneously. My first was at 10. A fuck 'em in the ass duo with a sexy friend. We have a similar style which makes working together an amazing flow and discovery. She is hot!!! Our client thoroughly enjoyed himself for reasons besides our mad skills and sensual demeanors. He likes not being the one driving the car. Having the sex happen to him and not having to initiate it. I would believe this to be a common male obligation currently in our culture. Then I became the therapist. I wish I could write about this, but I don't feel comfortable. I can say I am grateful for every therapy client that shares their beautiful self with me. Then I went back in the other direction to be sexy again. The recipient was celebrating his birthday and went overboard by seeing another lady 2 hours before he saw me. His cock reminded him he was not getting any younger. We still had a good time due to the fact that I consciously let go and let him do the driving. Here was a man who liked to drive. I don't feel like admitting what we did. hee hee. I guess I have some vestiges of modesty. Then back to being a therapist and I was thrilled listening to my client. Some people are so intelligent and aware and interested in the same veins as I. And I get paid to help them accept their own awesome beauty. Then back to the sex job. We shared a bottle of wine and conversation about life and selves. Sex happened at the end. We both drove.

Faked orgasms today 3.

real 1.

The man I liked least got the real one.

I like tallying things and noticing patterns. 5 people 3 Catholics. An interesting indoctrination that label insures. Nuff said. I don't mean to be cryptic and I would like to blab freely all my thoughts and ideas, but I feel constrained by some unexplainable (in words) ethical logic.

Its either feast or famine in this business.

Q & A

2011-03-01T17:18:00.000-08:00

Lately my clients have questions for me. All of the ones I have seen lately are infrequent participants, so perhaps they are curious. I like to answer questions. I like to be the authority and hold forth. Saturday night I had the couple, mentioned previously who talked me down in price. They got a free half hour and actually tipped so it worked out well. They were young (meaning my age) and nice looking. They brought their own hard lemonade to drink and dental dams for safety insurance. I would rather not eat pussy at all than lick it through a piece of smelly, synthetic, latex, but I indulged her. We did all the usual, vanilla stuff you would imagine happening with a couple but she kept interrupting the action to ask me questions. The questions were mostly about safety and how I insure that for myself. I have my methods which are a combination of magic, rational thinking, learning from past mistakes but mostly I listen to my gut. I have only regretted the times when I ignored my gut (both at work and in real life). But sometimes guts can get over protective. My boyfriend’s gut is always worried. He had a bad feeling about the couple. My rational thinking was people do not murder in pairs. I had their phone number which I googled and it came up clean. I spoke to both of them on the phone (gut was good). I googled the man’s name (since he was not needing to lie to his wife, he gave me a real name and I decided he was trustworthy based on his profession) Then I left all that info at home for my boyfriend to report to the police in case it was necessary. Turns out they also did their homework reading my reviews, that they figured I got my boyfriend to write. Left my address in their hotel room in case the police would use it as a clue and meanwhile we busted through all our doubts and fears to actually meet, get naked and enjoy each other.

The next curious client had called me a week earlier and wouldn’t call me from his cell phone. Here is a case where rational and gut struggled over his legitimacy. I googled his land line and it came up clean. I told him to be at my door last week some day at a specific time but not to knock so as not to disturb the downstairs neighbors. This is a safety ploy. I figure murderers won’t want to risk being witnessed or heard by others so whether my neighbors are home or not, I put on their lights and act like they are just to inhibit a potential bad guy. He didn’t show up, which I wrote off to cold feet and fulfilling my quota of time-wasting which happens in most types of business. He called me back this week and told me about last week and how he found my place and figured something came up with me, but I had no way to contact him. He went out of his way to prove that he knew and had seen the location. I believed he could find me, but not wanting to be fooled twice, I asked what was the part that went wrong. I discovered he was waiting for me on the sidewalk. I am not going out to the sidewalk. I told him to be at the door this time. “What about your neighbors?” he asked. This was a big concern to him, but not out of murderer fear, this was cheating on the wife fear. He managed to follow instructions and I did the neighbor lights on trick. He wants to be dominated and please me by whatever means necessary. This is the most often heard request. Within 10 minutes of him walking in the door, he is naked and restrained and I am running a whartenberg wheel on his most sensitive areas. (that is a pizza cutter look alike surgical tool with spikey points.) I notice he is trembling. “Are you scared?” I ask. “Well, yeah!” he admits gesturing to his tied up hands. Luckily I am not a murderer. He asked more questions about the neighbors, the landlord, the length of time I was there (after he came) and I answered him.

The guy asked me to visit him at his Best Western at the airport hotel. No, thank you. Have you ever read in escort ads they will travel to upscale hotels? That is a rational idea that if the guy doesn’t have money for a nice hotel, then how can he afford me? He asked me later why I didn’t want to visit him and I told him exactly that. He said, “Well did you ever think that maybe I was saving money on the hotel so that I could come and see you?” No, but that is rational as well. He was stiff on the phone, but I can recognize that and the gut was ok. He wore a hiking hat which made me feel at ease immediately. He had actually seen me before 6 years ago and remembered things about me. I remembered nothing about him, but I liked talking with him. He was in the psychology field. He asked me personal questions and also one about the neighbors. The neighbor one, “You have orgasms like that with downstairs neighbors!” He asked if I felt bad about doing my current work simultaneously while working as a therapist. I did wonder what he imagined could be difficult about that and I should have asked him that, but I answered, “Well I am doing the same thing in both locations. Trying to love and understand people, so I feel in integrity.”

slow as molasses in february

2011-02-24T18:20:00.000-08:00

This week is so slow. Remind me to take a vacation at the end of February next year. But I keep getting these inquiries that fizzle out. 1. a couple visiting this weekend ask what it would cost to meet me in a bar and then go back to their hotel room. I don't want to put down monetary amounts here, I feel a reason but I can't exactly articulate it but believe me, that I am a bargain without ripping myself off. The male of the couple replies that they don't want to spend that much. Then go to adult friend finder and get it for free. So I minus $100 and make a new offer. I am sure that won't be low enough. 2. Other men tell me how interested they are and when I respond... I never hear from them again or they ask for more pictures (aka jerk off material). Today was so nice, I didn't work. then I did a 3 hour yoga class. A new netflix arrived in the mail (Dexter season 3 disc 1) which I am dying to watch asap. I got home and checked email which 3. included a request for this evening. I forced myself to say yes. Why did I force myself? To balance expansion and contraction (having fun and going with the flow and being serious and caring about my budget). I said yes. He got ambivalent. I was secretly happy. Then he called back as I was walking my dog and said, he changed his mind and he did want to visit me. I growled inwardly but outwardly showed enthusiasm. We decided to meet at 7. Then when I got home from walking my dog, he called with this excuse. "I know you are going to think I am really weird but I have no clean underwear. It is all in the wash. And I can't leave the house without underwear." I secretly cheered, but outwardly expressed understanding for his ambivalence and now I get to watch my DVD.

the color Blue (named from an episode of Madmen)

2011-02-17T20:40:00.001-08:00

I recently was recommended by a colleague for a gig she was not fit at the moment to do. I was intrigued, as I am in every diverse form of human sexual expression and needed to fulfill some more inquiry before accepting. It was an offer I had never done or been asked to do. In not the most eloquent of introductory emails, the man stated his desires to be knocked out by punches. He offered $800 for an hour explaining that he didn’t enjoy haggling about money. There was the hook, shiny and glittering for the fish who is swimming in February (after Christmas credit card statements) looking for food. He actually did not give a name or phone number included. I have some snobbery about good manners and education. I have seen and appreciated many people who do not have these attributes so they aren’t necessary per se, but when I detect them, they are a signal to me of good breeding and intelligence. A knowledge of how to hold your part in the repartee of a dyad.

I have done mean and sadistic things to people who have thoroughly enjoyed them. They are probably documented in this blog. the guy who bought duct taped boat paddles for me to whack his calloused bottom with. The guy who likes me to step on his cock and balls with shoes and spike heels. the hanging of weights from balls and the slapping and kicking of balls. I have pooed, peed and farted in people’s face and I can understand what they are looking for and am honored to share that with them. It is hard to find this space in many long term relationships. I wondered what was this guy’s slant or window into psychological awareness to his desire to be knocked out, bloodied so bad that he was allowing for 2 weeks recovery time. I asked him this question. He said he didn’t really know but since the first time he was punched, he got a hard on. He said escorts weren’t usually very good at this job because they interpreted the session as playful. He was serious.

I thought about the aspects of this session that could prove dangerous to me like dealing with a non self aware individual who wants to be violently treated. He could turn around and press charges on me. He wrote of offering me a waiver (I guess a legal document), but never sent it as an attachment. Or he could get mad back and beat the shit out of me. Lets say neither of these worst case scenarios even happened. Would I enjoy beating the shit out of some person I had no clue of understanding? Would I enjoy watching blood and swelling and hearing groans of pain. How would I feel when it was over? There is one existing person in this world, I would for sure pay $800 or even more to do this to. I have no desire even if it is the other persons’ desire to have this memory in my mind, or this reality in my life. It took me a couple of days and a few emails to realize this.

The moral of this blog is that when people label people as “whores” they are using it as a metaphor to suggest, ‘That person has no boundaries, they would do anything for money. what a lack of integrity that shows!’ Whores are not people without boundaries. They are people with relaxed boundaries around sexuality, incorporated into the terms that they are comfortable with. Please enlighten anyone in the future who you hear speaking this way.

And the client could have possibly been a bullshitter

My den of boredom

2010-12-17T00:55:00.001-08:00

I am so tired. I should go to bed instead of write. My hips hurt from these crazy positions we did in yoga today. After yoga, I was not rushing, doing errands such as getting milk and picking up dry cleaning, knowing I had 2 evening appointments. Then my phone rang and it was a regular asking to come over in an hour. That would give me 1.5 hours to get ready for my 2 hour evening appointment between, so I said yes but had to start rushing. The client got so relaxed by my tickling his back (after having an orgasm as well) that he asked for an extra half an hour. I declined because I had to walk the dog and get some kind of food from the store, which I should have done earlier while I was at the other store, but I had to get something ready to eat because I wouldn’t have time to cook, See all these behind the scene details. The client who really didn’t feel like getting up said, “Walk the dog in 10 minutes and eat in 5.” Yeah, I wish. If the dog isn’t well exercised, she won’t behave while I’m working and the store takes 10 minutes to drive to. This is boring I’m sure. Well the 5:30 was for 2 hours. He was also a repeat regular who is very nice and meets the requirements of my preferred client list by not desiring to eat my pussy. This is kinda funny, isn’t it. Women, and I used to be one of them, want men to want to lick their pussy. I used to really enjoy it. I have theories but no real evidence on why I don’t like it anymore, but they are boring. I will spare you. He likes me to be in control and use him as a plaything. that’s the mental space. The physical acts include, prostate massage, fucking him with a strap on, masturbating in front of him, riding his cock and pinching his nipples. Actually it was pretty hot when he came I was positioned so that the way I was stroking his cock, it looked as if it were mine and it gave off a big explosion. That must be one of the fun parts of being a guy. I had 1.5 hours again till my 9 o’clock who was somebody I had never met, from out of town. I walked the dog again and ate some sushi and bread with salmon spread, laundry, cleaning, the boring of life. Lighting candles takes a long time actually because I have approximately 25. He was shy I would say or felt uncomfortable at first. He laid down for a massage and we barely had small talk. I found out he flies a lot internationally and has a dog. When he turned over, I said, “Now you’re going to have to tell me if you have boundaries and what you like.” He claimed to have no boundaries, but he forgot. When I put a condom on and went to mount him, he remembered he didn’t want to fuck. But he liked nipples, ass, cock and balls and also did not want to eat pussy. Yay! He came quicker than I planned because he asked for 1.5 hours and by one hour he was done but then he started talking about concerts and recreational drugs. He has one of those medical marijuana prescriptions. I asked what he told the doctor to get it. He said, “My neck hurts.” It’s that easy in some places in the world. He had a lot of stories to tell for the rest of the time and then he got dressed and left. I didn’t feel like driving to a hotel near the airport where I had retardedly left my vibrator after an outcall last weekend but vibrators are not cheap and they are good, so I drove. The client told me he would leave it at the front desk with my name on the bag. I was not surprised when they couldn’t find it. I have boring theories on what might be up with that which you will be spared again. I only found this part amusing. The desk attendant, whose first language was not english, asked me what was in the bag. “A vibrator.” I said. and she nodded and went to look again. Did she understand me? Did she figure out what the situation was where upon a vibrator would be left and reclaimed? I didn’t worry because vibrators are luckily, not illegal.

Do Ask, Do Tell (and celebrate knowing)

2010-12-15T17:31:00.000-08:00

I have been listening to NPR discuss the military changing of their current policy which is Don't Ask, Don't Tell for gays in the armed forces. This is a fucking archaic and stupid policy which will probably be upheld. Besides sexual orientation which is ostensibly what the law is about, it is really about sexual freedom, diversity, freedom from shame and the right of choice. One caller on NPR was in the military and likened this current controversy to one previous in U.S. history of racial integration of the armed forces. That was a huge deal in its proposal and considered likely to cause a ton of difficult situations especially with people of conservative backgrounds and beliefs, but now it is completely normal and I dare to bet, beneficial to those who serve to be in close contact with people of other races and learn that Hello, we are human beings. Currently under don't ask or tell, gays have to hide their orientation or risk being expelled. They get to exist in constant shame and paranoia. Of course sometimes gayness is more apparently obvious and then those service people go through hell of bullying and verbal and behavioral harassments. Homosexuality is not really black or white. I meet many "straight" men who have a desire to suck cock, as I have written about here less times than it has occurred. Therefore heterosexual men in group showers are not safe from their cocks being covertly fantasized about. What is so threatening about being fantasized about? Recently the ACLU has taken the state of Georgia to court because to enter a court building in their checking for weapons, they made a Muslim woman take off her head covering. The claim is she was being denied her right to practice her religion, which requires her to be covered in public. Why aren't the rights of gays to choose who they desire for sexual contact a sacred right. And for that matter extending to wider circles, why isn't my right to choose an occupation that serves me and my clients my human right? Hopefully, I am preaching to the choir, but I believe it is time to stop letting the conservatives make rules that govern the rest of us and force them to come to terms with the beauty and diversity of humanity.

Holiday Season

2010-12-06T22:57:00.000-08:00

I knew I had a 4 o'clock wrestling guy and a 7 outcall for 2 hours so my phone not ringing all day didn't worry me. Although I did receive a text from a guy asking in misspelled sentence, "Still rubing?" I pointed out his misspelling. He had no sense of humor. "How late do you work?" Another bad question. I asked, "Who are you?" He gave a standard name shared by 1,000,000 other men. I decided to ignore his texts to which he tried to guilt me for later making me glad I ignored his texts. Really I wish I could give him some insight into how he pushes people away, but I feel it would be a waste of my fingers moving. So the point of the previous sentences is I could relax and go Christmas shopping. I spent about $300 and it was fun. I went early to set up for the wrestler cause I had to put out my egg carton foam mat which I store in my closet and use about 3 times a year. All wrestlers are different. Some don't even want any sexual contact. This one did. Wrestling was the foreplay for the orgasm. I enjoy wrestling because it brings out the trash talking, older sister, torturer in me. I can hold my own, having studied martial arts in the past and keeping in shape. He was from out of town and got lost finding me although I gave him good directions. He listened to his Blackberry phone instead. I hate Blackberries. He was more than half an hour late but courteously tipped me for the time I wasted waiting. After he left, I put away the mat and fixed my incall to its usual decor. I packed my outcall bag for the evening festivities. I fed my dog and myself, brushed my teeth and put on my sexy business woman outfit to meet man #2 for a drink in the hotel bar before ascending to his room. He had bought the hotel on priceline but it was a high end hotel with easy parking. As we sat in the bar, I was feeling the alcohol and allowing myself to be outrageous. I said I was a connoisseur of hotels and cocks and was waiting for NPR to call me for an interview. He was a married lawyer who rarely travelled but took advantage when he did to sample the fruits of other women. He promised me he could have 2 or 3 orgasms which I got 2. He complemented me profusely, happily did not want to eat my pussy and left me a generous donation. I wish I could do this everyday.

an interesting side fact: Both these men had never tried prostate massage and I always offer it because finding another erogenous zone is always a good thing. Both of these men did not find their prostate to be an area of pleasure.

just a day in the life

2010-11-03T18:57:00.001-07:00

I have alot less to complain about than a multitude of the population but yet I still find opportunities. I felt that a tooth is chipping in the back this morning. I imagine dentist bills and dentist hands in my mouth. Both horrible. I had an empty schedule which could feel good if I had a wallet full of money, but since that was not the case, it did not feel as exciting. I realized I could go to yoga and then found I had no desire to go. I tried to convince myself and it wasn't working. Then the phone rang and someone wanted to see me, so I blame my lack of desire on intuition and went to work. This is a very nice man. He is a regular. He has Parkinson's and so he quit his job and is enjoying his life as much as possible. He moves very slowly and talks very softly. He struggles. He has a game he plays with his cock where he worries that he will lose his erection. As soon as he gets hard, he says, "let's fuck" and then... pretty soon he is soft. Then we take off the condom and go back to manual and oral stimulation till he repeats the scene again. I always try to interrupt this because if he would just relax his dick actually does a fine job. I tell him this, but he still has his agenda. My theory is he still needs to feel like a man in his ability to use and please me with his cock or some part of his body. So I try to simulate or actualize that, but it is difficult. Especially when he is eating my pussy and it feels like ants crawling around that I just want to swat. But anyway, all happened like it should and then we talk and he wants to let me hear music on his phone so his time extends, but my payment doesn't. When he leaves I see nobody has called me, but luckily my smartphone allows me to check my email which has 2 requests. One for this afternoon. I email him back and a time is set. The other wants the evening and I suggest that he call me. Guest #2 arrives and he is big and tall and almost handsome. chewing gum and trying to give me a big wet kiss immediately. I hate wet kisses. Hopefully my aversion and avoidance isn't extremely obvious. He has a big dick and thankfully doesn't want to eat my pussy so we are getting along great. His phone rings and I can feel his distraction. I say, "Do you fit XL condoms or do you have to special order your size?" I am sitting on him slow and even though it is a huge cock, I don't really feel it like I imagined. I take his nipples between my nails and he comes. Though I am more happy than not, I say "I'm gonna keep you for round 2" Then I offer to get his phone and he calls his boss back and talks about business. I compare his style to Obama's which I heard on the radio this morning and he is miles behind. I convince him to have a massage and he does but is in a hurry to get home on time. Then a guy who I saw 2 days ago asks for an appointment, Keep one bird in the hand and one in the bush if possible so I put the bush for tomorrow. Now the hand isn't calling me back but I don't mind if it doesn't happen. The only thing I mind is how I put my own plans on hold as I wait. Tomorrow I am doing yoga for sure whether I want to or not.

thought for the day

2010-10-28T23:15:00.000-07:00

It is easier to be a prostitute and take care of men than it is to spend the day doing childcare. (That is true for me. I took care of a 16 month old today) The latter is good training for the former. in case I even mixed myself up on that last line I mean taking care of children is good skill building practice for taking care of men. I don't mean that as a snarky comment. It is sacrificing self for other. and empathically understanding needs of other and using self to fulfill them. and redirecting and distraction, the old smoke and mirrors tricks. Allowing spontaneity and laughter by holding yourself lightly. The child is more tiring for sure. After 8 hours of childcare I did 2 hours of daddy care. I am tired!

talking myself out of a job

2010-10-14T20:02:00.000-07:00

Today I had 2 clients and both were married and struggling with guilt. The first he told me last time about his predicament with little awareness and a bunch of platitudes he used to shame himself into feeling bad for needing to express a part of his sexuality that was not acceptable at home. The part of him that likes to be dominated, to be forced to lick my asshole and take a dildo up his butt. He arrives wearing a condom to protect himself and his wife from my arsenal of diseases. He requests a dom type clothing ensemble of stockings, spike heels and my newest addition to my extensive wardrobe: my PVC dress. He labels his desires "goofy" after he has come and can look at them with a more discerning eye. I have seen him like 5 times and I like him. I can't talk him out of his guilt, nor his compulsion to fulfill the part of him that needs a certain erotic interaction to sustain him at his high pressure/ stress job and family life. The next client I have known for years, but I see him only twice a year. I like him too. He seeks solutions through mindfulness and other evolved approaches in his career and personal life. He asked me. "what's new?" and somehow our discussion veered into his guilt. His paradox of loving his wife and wanting to be the man she thinks he is; monogamous, integrity, truthful and yet he cannot stop himself from setting up trysts with providers only when she is out of town or he is on business and then finds a way to justify his participation by saying, "but I didn't fuck them, I only got a massage that included my cock." I asked him questions about his justifications and about his beating up of himself after doing. Basically to illuminate more about his process of decision making and follow through. He appreciated my questions. He usually has one orgasm on arrival and a second one after a massage. I told him we would have to change the subject or he wouldn't get aroused for a second orgasm. He said that was ok and I saw he felt good about refusing what he would usually justify himself availing himself of. His first orgasm was in my professional opinion, very easy. All I did was undress him and sensually move my body next to his in different variations but what he received was initiation and interest and desire; what he doesn't get from his long term relationship. Why doesn't she do what I do? does she believe she is sexy enough to arouse him. I do. Does she think she becomes a slut for acting in certain ways? label me slut- I am not perturbed. He wouldn't let me suck his cock because in case I had an communicable diseases ( that is responsible of him) and so his orgasm was quick with few strokes and little effort. We agreed that the next time he called or emailed me, I would ignore him and if he asked me for a reference to another provider, I would not give one. He said he appreciated this support. I felt sad that I would never see him again, glad that he would make a change that felt more authentic to his values and grateful that he shared so honestly with me.

kind of a brag

2010-10-11T14:13:00.000-07:00

"i want you to know you, my dear friend, changed my life. seeing you living in your own unconventional way without apology, with pride and love showed me i did not have to follow rules but decide what was best for me and what i believed."

I got this in an email today. I felt proud of myself and I cried for reasons I haven't sorted out yet and will leave for my own examination.

This is what I wish I could impart to everybody. and I am glad that my scorecard at least says 1.
Life is so short. Don't let false notions of should, shame and guilt rob you of your truth. Live in integrity with who you are. This is not to say, don't give a shit what anyone thinks. That is not possible. But living in your own integrity is really the only path that will satisfy you. This is what I try to give to my sex clients but alas it gets stickier. Their true sexuality needs expression. Let me facilitate that. When they are married, it is the option that satisfies both partners. The wife gets to not participate and he does. The only glitch is he has to lie and lying feels guilty. But he says he has to lie. He has not experimented with telling the truth because he "knows" the outcome. That is a scary experiment to enact. I think confession is not the best approach. A conversation that begins with, I am not feeling satisfied wholly in our relationship, would give each partner space to express their position to each other.
Why or is it even true that women especially after marriage want sex less than their male counterparts or less experimental sex if that? Through my observation, this seems to occur with frequency. Women resist giving sex. I wonder if it is the relationship that makes them tangled in other stronger feelings like distrust, resentments, inequality of work especially in the home. It feels like another chore to engage.
I remember back in my 20"s deciding that I wouldn't have sex so that men couldn't get an opportunity to hurt my feelings by rejecting me afterwards. That worked for awhile until I had an aggressive man kinda coerce me. When his cock entered me, I was like, "oh yeah this feels good. I'll let it continue." The end of that relationship was painful. I wasn't rejected, but I felt taken advantage of. But then I had the opportunity to examine how I let myself be taken advantage of and fix my behaviors to not allow a repeat performance. Not that there weren't repeat performances. How many times do we watch the same movie before recognizing it is the same movie? My answer is many.
There were many times in my pre adult life that what I felt and wanted was at odds with how my family felt and wanted. I started young fighting for myself. I felt that I had an innate right to my individuality. That is probably my best characteristic.

things that make you go hmmmm...

2010-10-02T20:04:00.000-07:00

There are certain standards in communication even if it is to buy sexual services illegally. I get a text which reads, "I saw your ad." I deleted it. But not before fantasizing answers like, "I am glad you can read and are sighted." or even "And?" but I really don't want to talk to whoever that is making me do all the work. I already wrote and posted a fucking ad. Your turn. I got an email asking "Can I say naughty thoughts?' That is polite to ask permission, I thought before spurting forth. I wrote, "go ahead." He responded, "Do you have thing high vinyl boots and could I pleasure myself while I worship you?" That sounds like an easy job but I don't have vinyl thigh high boots. I figure it would be a good investment so I write, "If you bring me a pair I will subtract the cost from your donation. I tell him my size." He writes back, "Can you wear ( a size smaller)" So he already owns a pair of this size boots and he figures he will get a cheap session. No. I am going to say, "if I cut off my toes but I prefer not to." I also have a guy writing me long explicit emails about his ability to have orgasms from sucking toes through stockings and being sensitive to the phermones in the sweat of the women's feet. I try to respond enthusiastically but, I haven't gotten a concrete scheduling from him. Some guy called the other day reminding me that we spoke a year ago. Something he said jogged my memory and I said, "but there was some part of this equation that didn't feel right to you so you weren't able to schedule." He agreed that it was him. He wanted me to go to a sex toy store with him and buy toys for him in front of the salesclerk so that he could feel excitedly humiliated. I have had similar requests such as to take a man into the bra department of an upscale department store to be fitted for a bra in front of the salesclerk. I tell these clients that the third party is a non-consensual person in the game that doesn't feel right for me to engage her. I also say that since the job of salespeople is to make sales, they better be prepared to spend their money to make it worth their while. OF course this isn't part of their budget. Needless to say, that call was a waste of time. But I am amused by the absurdity of humanity in all its glory

Blurts

2010-08-30T18:19:00.001-07:00

I figured out what is exhilarating and nerveracking simultaneously about this job. I never know how my day is going to be to plan for amount of money or time spent on other things besides earning money. Sometimes I say fuck the money and give myself a day off to do what I need to do but to be able to say that I have to rock it when it comes. So today was such a day. I start out relaxed, meeting people and talking with them in starbucks, Sitting in the sun petting my dog and then I get the usual call with request, "How early can I meet with you?" So I give myself and hour to shower etc and start rushing. After that I fulfill my afternoon appointment of therapy and then I have 2 messages waiting for me to see me right away. I call the guy I have known for years and give him the first option which he takes, more rushing ensues and give the other guy the later option leaving me available for my evening therapy appointment. All is going well except the second guy has run into traffic. He arrives and I am wearing high heels as requested. Suddenly when I see his body art, a recollection of knowing him comes to me. I blurt things and I wish I didn't. I don't think, Hmmm should I mention this? no, in a millasecond it is leaving my mouth."you look like a guy who ....." In an effort for discretion I am not going to say but who reads this thing anyway. who could trace anything to anyone but I'll err on the side of caution. I was once a client of his for a health based service. He was very nice in fact and did a good job. He denies being the guy but says, "He must have been a good looking guy." I am ready to believe him. sure, people have look alikes. Then he says he forgot my donation in the car so he has to go get it. This is a typical ploy for escape. I used to see it when I worked with an older woman and the client saw her and decided No and so he thinks up a strategy. I see him get in his car and drive off. I text him, "you left?" no reply. I text him 45 minutes later after I google his workplace and see his name and picture on the list of practitioners, "what is so scary about telling the truth? Either I was your client and that makes you uncomfortable or you think I'm ugly. Either way the truth is ok." I kinda want to further his development by giving him space to deal honestly with people and also his chickenshittedness pisses me off. Now I will be quiet imagining he is processing this but then I feel like texting "google search" or something. I bet though some of you will understand this and be able to explain it to me. I understand he might feel ashamed, found out, whatever but why does silence and escape feel like a cure?

quickie

2010-08-25T21:06:00.000-07:00

The old guy who was written about in the last post returned today to deliver more accolades to me. What can one respond to being told how wonderful one is a million times? I just smile and am happy to give him such a joy. I woke up at 7 to get ready for a 9 o'clock therapy session and now it is 9 in the evening and I am soooo tired. The evening client brought a bottle of chardonney which we shared. I think that contributed on an empty stomach to this feeling of I can't wait to go to sleep. He is a rich guy who pays his X wife half his earnings, but still has plenty. He asks me personal questions and I answer him. I don't see that as threatening. But maybe it is. He dyes his hair blonde and he probably would look better grey. He said the more friendly he becomes with me the more difficult it will be for his cock to engage. I jumped all over that and he jumped away. 3 people called to try to see me later, but I said no. I thought I could do an activity tonight like a social visit or a movie, but I am so tired, I can only eat, water plants, write this, check and respond to other email and walk my dog and then go to sleep. I have an old version of the book "Everything you always wanted to know about sex but were afraid to ask" (1969). It is written in question/ answer format and the questions are outdated (IMHO) except if you still wonder "Is there anything wrong with masturbating?" or "Is oral sex dirty?" Dr. Reuben answers in exceedingly liberal ideology exhorting his readers to join the masses of sexually liberated who cannot help but enjoy sexual stimulation once guilt is erased by his authoritative opinion from the equation. What a paradigm the humans can choose from: guilt and damnation from sexual arousal or else the obligation to have exceedingly pleasurable orgasms following the proscribed recipe of genital stimulation. Dr. Reuben also informs us lucky heterosexuals that in homosexual relationships, they thrive on danger and that they all have in common that the penis, not the person is the primary source of interest. Their interactions are at best, impersonal. I am interested in the societal construction of sexuality because that is what the masses are responding to and wanting in their quest for normalacy and striving for their just entitlement.

Old guys rule

2010-08-18T20:54:00.000-07:00

He called me the first time 4 weeks ago and we couldn't find a time to meet. Every week he tried again. Finally a month later, today he came over. "I'm an old guy," he warned me. "i only can do half an hour. " I will accomodate some people with this request. He is probably on a fixed income. He arrived early but was happy to wait a few blocks away until I called him to say I was ready. He was very concerned to elicit directions to arrive totally correctly. Since I don't show my face in my ad, people are usually pleasantly surprised to discover that I am quite attractive ( I gave up on false modesty when I turned 35). This was the case today and he repeatedly and continuously sang praises of me. Do I get an ego boost from this? Not really. I accept it as a form of worship to the divine feminine and enjoy the fact that they are so happily enamoured. I was so wonderful and I felt so great and my pussy was so beautiful and so delicious and I was so responsive and my body was in such great shape X 10. I faked an orgasm as he ate my pussy and I consider this a charitable contribution on my part because it made him so happy to give somebody pleasure and to be appreciated. His wife.... fill in the expectable blank. Did I mention he is 77 years old? 2 years older than my father. The sex part lasted about 10 minutes and then we talked the rest of the time about our backgrounds, family, interests etc. He will return.

A good night's sleep

2010-08-10T23:23:00.000-07:00

I received an inquiry by email for an evening appointment at a near the airport hotel. It was soon arranged by a combination of phone calls and emails for this evening. I got washed, dressed, made-up and supplies (condom, lubes, toys) and drove there. It was not a beautiful location. He was a typical out of town type. Dressed in adidas sweatpants, a T-shirt and socks, watching TV, with his computer on the desk. I was my typical charming self and had us naked in no time, playing with the already hard merchandise. Pretty soon he suggested I adorn him with a condom and I told him he had to last for 3 position changes. "I'll try," he promised. I got on top to start and did my orgasm act. Then I collapsed and told him my legs were tired so he had to pick a new position. He picked "doggie". I do not prefer that word. This ensured that his time was short and it was. Judging from my faulty memory and non statistical research, I would say men come most easily when I have my ass pointed at them. He sighed and groaned, pulled out carefully, went to the bathroom to dispose of the evidence and brought back a dry washcloth to wipe himself. He lay next to me in the bed and I knew the next thing he was going to say. I wish it was a double jeopardy question and I bet all my money on it. He said, "I'm going to sleep well tonight." I told him I knew that would be his next line and we laughed. I could feel him wanting me to leave but just to make sure I said, "You can tell me to leave." It was only 20 minutes after my arrival. He said, "You can leave." He said to remember him for next time he was in town. We made small talk as I got dressed, picked up my cash and left. Leaving I passed another man entering his room. He wished he could have invited me in. I drove home with my music turned up loud. I think I will sleep well too.

The Shadow knows...

2010-08-04T00:08:00.000-07:00

He comes in. He is short. Bouquet of flowers. nice gesture. welcome and social niceties, offer wine, bathroom, sit and talk. The talking is a monologue about young people not knowing how to communicate because they text and play video games. I forget how it swerved into the story of his life and how his mother died when he was not even a year old. I hear about his hand of cards he was dealt and how he made the most of it. It is a good story, but it is long. I suggest getting naked and talking. He doesn’t take the bait. I wonder if all we will do is talk. An hour has passed and he starts taking off his clothes unceremoniously. His idea of foreplay has not excited me, but luckily I am a damn good actress. Soon we go to the bed and hug and begin the preliminaries. This has to seem non formulaic and non rushed. That is my goal but also to move things along to their natural conclusion (him leaving). I realize he is the pussy eating type, which it seems the majority are. This percentage has switched from 20 years ago when I relished a boyfriend who ate pussy. Now.... I find it an annoyance. Ok here goes my act of breathing and writhing and moans and grabs. I think I should let this go on for 5 minutes, but I believe I get impatient and fake my earth shattering orgasm even sooner. What a disservice I am doing for the rest of womenkind. lowering the imagined average amount of time it takes. He wants to do it again, but I say that I want his cock inside me. Perhaps this is the truest thing I say in the bed area. truly I would like to get paid for not using my body, but since the GFE is his ideal, fucking is the least of all evils. This finishes in a reasonable amount of time with me faking a second orgasm using a vibrator (to give it a more realistic look). Now the afterglow part which should not seem contrived or rushed, but I know I am over time by half an hour now. I feel my dog’s impatient vibes, wanting her evening walk. He has more to say though about who knows what, because now I am plotting of how to get him out. Should I tell him I have another appointment? should I mention the time? (golden rule: don’t be a clockwatcher). My dog is helping me by howling for her walk, so I use her as an excuse. He goes to the bathroom and I quickly text my boyfriend not to worry about me. He begins more conversations about his next travels and plans to return and hands me a wad of bills. I am too polite to count the money in front of him but guessing its a wad of 20’, it doesn’t feel fat enough to be the 2 hour rate. I slip my darringer out from under my pillow and point it with a sideways grip (gansta style) directly at his face which suddenly changes to a wide eyed and mouth stare. “What the fuck you think this is, a charity function? A special therapy/ sex combo at discount rate. Look at that clock and tell me how long you’ve been stinking up my place? And how much did you give me? Do you think the flowers make up for the other half?” “But...” he stammered. “that’s all I have.” “Well I guess we’ll be taking a little ride to the cash machine together and adding that to your bill.”
You can decide where or if this story divulges into fiction and at what point. You can wonder if I am working too much and finally losing my marbles. You can comment. I know that everything has a yin and a yang, a dark and a light. The shimmer and the shadow. I honor my shadow.

This was the story I wanted to write

2010-07-28T01:43:00.000-07:00

What gets me wired and excited is the presentation of a new set of challenges that I in the moment have to understand and join with and when I do it successfully it is a high, a journey, a trip into depths of humanity.
The client told me he enjoyed pain and had ordered some new toys to enhance this. I was to administer the pain to the brink of his taking it. He mentioned wanting his cock stepped on, his cock slapped, balls pulled and strap on play. He also wanted to combine tantra type awareness and long lasting practices. His attitude was I want to do everything and to the maximum capacity and then do it again two days later. I recommended to keep our minds on the first session before planning the future, his first lesson in being present. He asked for two hours to be able to experience everything. He was younger than me and relatively good looking, currently single and wanting to work on knowing himself better before embarking on another relationship.
He brought with him a bag of accessories which I was to direct him to attire himself and present himself to me. Before I had a chance to do that, he had his hard cock exposed and pre come dripped from it to the floor. I commanded him to lick it up and he dropped into a dog position and immediately obeyed. I left the room while he adorned himself with these devices I had not yet seen. Circling around the frenulum of his cock (right under the head) was a metal ring that had screws at quarter inch intervals that I would tighten with an allen wrench ( I needed glasses to be able to do this) which would then poke into his cock. His balls had a cone shaped leather device that closed with snaps circling it and a heavy ball and chain that pulled them down. This chain hung and swung to his ankles making walking a delicate task to avoid hitting his legs. He also brought an inflatable butt plug which was not new to me.
I started writing this a couple of weeks ago and I was impressed by the guy and our interactions. Now, I barely remember. The first paragraph reminds me that it was this intensity of pain he enjoyed and my puzzle to solve was the correct formula that would press his erotic buttons by using the pain. Ahhh yes, I remember it was 10 minutes to the end of the session and he started to get an erection. Silently I cursed, thinking that now he wouldn’t want to quit until he came a second time and it would take forever, I imagined because there was barely a refractory period. But the good news is, cocks are unpredictable little devils and he had his second orgasm before his time ran over. That was because I told him a story while jacking him off, which I also forget but it had to do with him being seen as unbelievably slutty by a female stranger passing by on the beach and the humiliated feeling that turned him on. That story seemed to be conjured into my head not by me putting together pieces of a puzzle but from an energetic vibration that we were sharing, It’s a kind of alchemy perhaps that when I get to be a participant in it, excites me very much.
if I had written this the night of the date, it would have been much more character focused and I like those vignettes of an hour between two people that usually goes unknown and unsaid. and I have more stories everyday that I feel that way about and then they fade.
But here is one fresh in my mind. I trust my instincts. I saw the caller id from a certain area code. When I heard his voice it sounded familiar. Even the style of conversation, like an exuberant "How are you!?" like we were old friends. I resist manipulation like that. After repeating "how are you" and me repeating "good", I asked his name. He has 2 names, he used his real one. ( I ggogled his phone number a year ago and found an ad he had posted on craigslist) He said, "My friend saw you (like that gives him credibility and also it feels kinda creepy) "and then I called you but never got to see you and then I called and some jerk guy answered, so I figured I shouldn't call you for awhile. Yeah he was really a schmuck." (he is digging himself into a deep hole here). By this time I remembered him. I had not put him into my new phone contacts under the name of Jerk which he was labeled on my last phone. I said, "I think I remember you. Did you make an appointment with me and not show up and not call?" "Yes, I couldn't get out of work." (Great fucking excuse and lie) "Well when people don't respect me and they keep calling I ask my friend to answer the phone so they will stop." "I didn't disrespect you, I couldn't get out of work." (Right its not disrespectful to call someone, reserve their time and then just let them wonder and wait) I said "Well I am making the choice not to see you because I don't feel comfortable." He said "ok" and hung up. I felt successful in that conversation because I didn't argue with him or try to make him see I was right. I know I am and I get the final say. Ha ha ha.

metaphysical orgasm

2010-07-16T00:27:00.000-07:00

I had one of those rare days when I allowed Flow to reign. Eating half a Marijuana cookie helps this immensely. My morning was tightly scheduled with dog walking, showering, emails etc. then yoga and then a quick lunch and shower to make a 2:30 duo with F. The client had a fantasy that sounded fun. We were two ladies that insisted on making him take his time and in fact get tied up while we galavanted in front of him displaying our wares and the pleasure we could give each other. We enjoyed taking turns using the strap on on each other. He watched mutely and even with a soft cock. Maybe this was a case of fantasy and reality not exactly meshing. Oh well, the fickleness of a cock sometimes can not be diverted. After the session, he spent a long time talking about his life and his trials and triumphs. I did wish he would realize his time taking but since he was not painfully boring, I relaxed and took a role as witness. I had nothing scheduled that was pressing on me. When he left, I watered the garden and waited for F to clean up her space. As she ate her lunch, we talked. This was the highlight of my week, possibly my month.
(tangent) When people talk about hiking or rock climbing or many of their passions, I feel like an alien. I have no desire to run marathons or clock miles or even see extraordinary nature. I have seen much gorgeous nature, so one more awesome view is not going to enhance my life. But talking about ideas.... oh yes yes yes bring it on and over and in and through me. When I connect concepts to form new ideas that explain intersection of culture, psychology and humanity, I get so buzzed, I am so turned on. It is hard to explain and I don’t know if I succeeded.
She said she was invited to be on a panel as a sex worker representative. (why don’t I get invited to do this shit?) and to talk about how feminists can be allies of sex workers. I asked her what she saw as her biggest problem being a sex worker. She replied that her job was illegal and she could get busted. I said, “I never worry about that.” “That’s great.” she said, “but I do.” “Let me convince you and take this unnecessary worry away.” I offered.
You have a good head on your shoulders.
you are not a drama magnet. Already this makes you safe but...
You are only a misdemeanor. Felony is pimps: people making money off of a prostitute. You are not worth busting. who gets busted are “prostitution rings” or street walkers because the neighborhood complains.
if they wanted to get you they would have done it already. We are obviously advertising to do what we are doing right on the internet in front of the whole world.

“I”m only a misdemeanor?” She exclaimed excitedly. “Yes” I didn’t check if she felt relieved because my brian was rushing onto my next idea. “I’ll tell you what oppresses me the most about this job.” I offered. “The stigma. The lies I have to tell to protect my character [sic]. The pain I feel for having to straddle two worlds instead of being my integrated self in one” She wanted me to continue, She was being inspired by my ideas. This is an orgasm for me.
(tangent) This woman is an interesting Creature. She doesn’t define herself by gay straight or even bi. She is queer. anything is possible and she will not be boxed by any other generated labels. She has her own label that for reasons of confidentiality I won’t say but here it is! what infuriates me: the need to protect ourselves, our wonderful, sex having, paradigm defying selves from THEM. I know “they and them” are the fantasy bad guys of conspiracy theorists but seriously, sexual paradigms run rampant even in the most liberal of minds and harm those who do not follow the prevailing hegemony (I love that word).
We talked about how it is hard to separate our “real” sexual selves from our sexual personas that we daily enact in different versions and that she worries that would garner criticism from those supposedly enlightened people who reify “sacred sexuality” and would see us as tarnished for our commodity peddling selves peeking into our reality bedroom of desire. “We’ll develop our own paradigm of sexuality.” I said. She was confused. “I got this from you.” I said, having multiple orgasms because the melding of convergent ideas into a new holistic bubbling of possibility was configuring before my minds eye.

Because of my paid sexual explorations, I am broader and more multifaceted than I could have ever been without. My boyfriend benefits from the pathways I can segue onto in the midst of our erotic encounters. I can hold anything sexual presented to me and I have and when I am in bed with my love it can morph into a new and original variation. I want praise and validation from society, not shame and guilt. What feminists and all people can do to help themselves as well as sex workers is to critically examine the paradigms they have adopted. Paradigms sneak into our minds in all spheres from the most liberal to the most conservative. Break em! and have an orgasm with it.

I haven’t ranted for a long time and I must say, it feels good.

dry run

2010-07-14T00:06:00.000-07:00

I knew little about him except his name. He arrived and was a typical 50 year old guy dressed in casual, summer attire. I welcomed him in and offered him some wine, which he refused and opted for water. I could tell he was nervous, but that is not uncommon. He said he had played golf earlier in the day and had been working on remodeling his yard, which was when I asked a few questions sounded like a lot of work. I figured he needed a massage and began to undress him and myself. My clothes were merely a white silky slip and sheer white panties. His cock was becoming erect and as I knelt down to help him off with his underwear, I commented that it showed promise. I asked if I could suck it and he agreed. I did and soon it became almost too thick for my mouth. I said, "This is a nice cock! I'm sure you heard that before." "Not for a long time." he answered. I said maybe we'll save the massage for later and he laid down on his back. I got on top of him feeling his cock against my belly and kissed his neck moving down to his nipples. "Do your nipples enjoy stimulation?" I asked. I am a fan of communication plus I hate to waste my energy on something that isn't enjoyable. "It's been a long time. I'm divorced." This sounds like a major clue. The first hypothesis I construct is that he hasn't had sex for a couple years since his divorce and this is his first foray back into intimacy with a woman. He probably hasn't fucked with a condom in a long time as well. After I play with his cock and have it beautifully hard, I get out my Magnum and roll it down his shaft. ( I ask permission first because I am not a mind reader) I bring my vibrator over and explain that I will use it on myself. It doesn't feel as good as I imagined, but it feels ok and I am a good actress. After a minute or two, I get the vibrator and begin my ascent. I notice that he is able to keep his eyes open and look at me,which to me is a good sign of his potential. Soon I can't feel his cock anymore because it is soft. He apologizes which is not necessary and blames it on his nervousness being with somebody at all let alone not his x wife. I am not upset and I don't want him to feel bad so I decide it is time for a massage. His butt checks are clenched and he puts one foot over the other as he lays on his stomach. This is not a relaxed position. I try to make small talk with him to establish a connection and interest. Things like where he lives and if he likes golf or other sports. Then I ask about his divorce. I ask if he is still in pain from it. He isn't what I would call forthcoming, but he reveals that she is crazy, still loves him, is married to someone else and they have two sons. I would have asked more about the kids but I don't want his mind to go too deep into reality. I am wondering what I can give this man to help him move forward in his life. To believe in future possible happiness. To feel successful with me. He asked if I had ever been married. I told him the truth. I never believed in the concept of marriage or more recently the paradigm of idealistic pairing it assumes for everyone. "Well its not the same at 50 as it was at 20 or 30." he says. He doesn't know its actually better now. I want him to believe this, but I know exhorting him with my opinion won't lead to that outcome. I finish with his back and ask him to turn over. I decide to take the pressure off him to fuck and just give him a nice, slow handjob which he enjoys and he comes. I clean him and lay on top of him long enough to say, "You are a good looking guy, you have hair and a nice cock. Your a good catch and you can find another good catch." "I should try harder." he says. I respond, "Just open yourself to the possibility and it'll happen." Writing this I sound kinda preachy, which was not my intention but maybe I was. Anyway he said he would "let me go." which meant he wanted to go and it was time anyway and we were done. "What I miss most isn't really the sex," he said. "It's the touch. It's waking up in the morning and kissing someone before you go to work." I doubt I will see him again.

to tease you

2010-06-16T23:24:00.000-07:00

I have a really good story to tell and no time to tell it. It's late, I gotta wake up early and my boyfriend so cutely asked from bed if there was anything to snack on. I am making him a grilled cheese and going to watch him eat it. I notice though I get a good story in my mind and it evaporates before I get to write it. The details get fuzzy pretty quick. Saturday I also felt this way and I forget what happened instead of writing, but that story is gone. I hope I write it tomorrow.

Trayf

2010-06-08T22:39:00.000-07:00

My client brought over food. Shrimp, I would rather not eat but I did to be polite. and creme brulee for dessert. He took a shower and asked if he could massage me. I happily laid down. I added silicon lube to make it slipperier. It felt great. Then I turned over and he was actually doing a good job, getting me turned on. I started moaning. He said, "You don't have to fake an orgasm for me." Isn't he savvy? I said, "Ok but what if I want to have a real one?" He kept going and it was good but I knew my fingers were the only ones that were going to know how to finish me off. I interrupted with my fingers on the outside and his on the inside. It was real. He told me he read the book The Hite Report by Shere Hite, when he was a young man. in that book many women tell about the different ways they masturbate. That is how he learned. Double savvy. We had an intermission of shrimp, then I took a turn delighting him. I hurt him once by sucking his ball. Some men love it, others are more sensitive. For dessert we had creme brullee and chatted about a variety of topics. It was a lovely evening.

I went to get a new card made for my over the radar business. I went to a printer instead of using the online templates like Vistaprint. I met with an artist to design my card. He was cute! I found myself flirting. He remained professional, which kept me even more attentive. That is the end of the story. Just letting me know I am still alive.

things that make you say FUCK in the night

2010-06-03T23:45:00.000-07:00

I go to a job at a nice hotel. The man claims to have seen me 10 years ago and remembered me. We have a nice time including I introduce him to his prostate and let him lick my asshole. When it is over he says, "What do I owe you?" I say, "_____" (a reasonable number). He hands me a wad of folded bills and says, "that's more than ____(the number)" I thank him. put it in my purse. An hour later I come home and count it and it is $70 under what I asked. I am, in a word....pissed. Should I call him? email him? take it as a live and learn and count the money in front of the client which seems tacky to me? or imagine that somehow I lost $70 without opening my purse between his room and my house?

the challenge

2010-05-13T21:25:00.000-07:00

Of course I check out my competition. There are tons of ladies in all ages and sizes in this world who offer to show you a good time or an other-wordly time. and their rates vary accordingly. I know the range and charge reasonably. I give a good deal. But I find myself jealous of a woman who can make what I make in more than half the time. What makes her worth it? You can buy Charles Shaw wine for under $5. It is undrinkable (according to me) You can buy $10-$15 wine which is usually tasty and you can buy $100 a bottle which I did once just to see the difference. Blindfold me and I wouldn't know. But I would know Charles Shaw. It is in the marketing. Has anyone ever bought Volvic water? I have. It has a beautiful bottle. Marketing is presentation as well as expectation. If I got paid $1000 for 2 hours, I think I would feel very inspired to be the out of this world experience that rich motherfuckers crave.

short and sweet

2010-05-06T00:14:00.000-07:00

My client was in a nice hotel and looked nice and was nice. He wanted a massage to start and his body was all wiggly and responsive. He put on a good choice of music for the occasion off his Mac. I used my skin and hands to tantalize and awaken him. His cock showed appreciation. I asked if I could do prostate massage and got my glove and lube. His ass pulled me right in. As he writhed on my finger, I licked his shaft and balls. His movements told me it would soon be over so I stopped for a second, but alas there was no turning back. His enthusiasm seeped out into a pool of white stickiness on his belly. “Maybe you’ll have another,” I said. After I cleaned him up and tickled his chest, he said, “You know what...” I knew. We talked briefly about our lives. After you already had sex, you don’t need to try to impress anyone. He was into learning about various interesting ideas to improve his self and life. I liked him very much. He tipped me. I walked my dog.

my thoughts are duct taped

2010-01-01T23:10:00.000-08:00

I can't write cause what I am thinking about is too revealing (about me) and so I can't be honest and tell you what is going on cause I can't trust that somebody who reads this could get me, out me and unfortunately very fucking unfortunately that is too dangerous. I hate that the truth doesn't set people free. what is so bad about sex and having it with multiple people. half of us know the answer is nothing but look how people act about it most recently in the case of Tiger Woods. I think his problem was dishonesty but probably he felt that to be his only choice because his desires and needs were unacceptable. Is the majority bowing to the minority? I don't know, but anyway I just wanted to explain my absence.

Joining the Other

2009-11-18T16:54:00.000-08:00

There are some similarities between my two careers. The most obvious one is in therapy terms called “joining” with the client. That means entering their world-view and being able to imagine life as it is from their viewpoint. World-views can include a different religious belief system, cultural framework and just the individual differences we each have that make us unique. If a person values family loyalty, then the idea to do whatever they wants regardless of their family’s views, is not an available choice. In sex work, it is advantageous to be able to enter the client’s worldview as well especially if we are role playing a fantasy. Today I played “the neighbor” a classic fantasy in which the man who has been eyeing his sexy neighbor for some time, has an excuse to visit (the letter came to his house and he wanted to give it to her) and she with her voracious appetite and pleasure in exciting him, avails herself of his obvious desire. Many men enjoy being prisoner to their desire and especially with someone who notices their physical transformation (hard-on) with delight.
Previous to working today I listened to a podcast of Esther Perel author of Mating in Captivity; a genius psychotherapist who specializes in thinking about the obstacles in the way of long term erotic expression between couples. (http://www.modavox.com/voiceamerica/vshow.aspx?sid=1598) Her ideas about pornography are refreshing- she doesn’t take a side of it is good or bad. She says it can be used responsibly and part of that responsibility is to be warned of possible harmful side effects some pornography can have on some people. Perel believes that marriage and the kinds of relationships people are looking for that include trust, security, partnering are antithetical to erotic desire which feed on space, mystery and otherness. She posits that the needs of people who consume pornography, visit escorts, etc. are to have a satisfying and selfish experience without the baggage of having to care for another’s emotional needs. I think selfishness is valid and not evil. (we have read this in previous posts). Therein I imagine lies the ethical debate over the danger of pornography. If sex can be easy and simple (selfish) with no emotional complexities then why bother with love and long term relationships? Because both are good in their own way. They are not mutually exclusive but for most people monogamousness is part of what they expect from their long term partner so in fact they are. Therefore lies.
Listening to the podcast gives me a concise language for my goal in attuning more keenly to my clients world-view and makes me even more devoted to give him that escape from reality he is looking for.
Why do I write this blog? For a variety of reasons. 1. I have an agenda to have a more open, wide and encompassing view of sexual expression and hope by my way of presenting reality, to influence others to move in this direction. 2. I want to liberate sex workers from the constricted view of pariahs that the culture has given them to inhabit. I believe that by informing others to see the vastness of experiences that men are paying to have, the idea of the service and the patrons and providers will gain credibility and expertise. 3. Some things are just funny and unique to this business. I enjoy shows like This American Life and I watched The Biggest Loser last night. I like entering into the world view of the Other and discovering how it is for them.
Bringing me to the topic of clothes I wear for work. How lucky am I that lingerie is a necessity that I must invest in. My favorite outfit lately is a tight black slip I got at Ross for $9.00 and some black lacy boyshorts for $5.00, also at Ross. However I have the garter belt outfit in case it is requested, secretary/boss accessories, high heels of course in many colors. the short skirt and the catholic girl skirt which incidentally I don’t wear very often. And every color of lingerie I can find.
Tonight I have a client I think I wrote about before. He wants a “healing” from me that he believes comes from our energetic union. My concept is he is too repressed to admit he wants sex, so he has to frame it as healing, medicine, necessary. I join his worldview because placebos can work. the mind is very powerful. The calling “friend” who I wished would never call me again, called today and for the first time I noticed that he stutters. I told him I noticed that. He said that happened since he was 3 years old and it happens more strongly when he gets nervous if I am going to be mean to him or friendly. How brave he is to call me anyway. I am usually mean. I asked him if perhaps it started in response to his nervousness about his mother acting in unpredictable ways. He began to answer, but I cut him off because my client arrived.

talk is cheap

2009-11-16T14:23:00.001-08:00

Recently an East Indian man called me and asked if he could just talk to me for a few minutes. Reluctantly I said yes. Talk is cheap. He sounded very nervous and quickly told me that he was in this country looking for a job, engaged to be married which would happen after he got a job and incredibly horny and stressed right now, so did I think he should see me to relieve himself. The answer is obvious....NO. I told him that he wasn't sure about his decision so that was the first reason and the second was that he would be starting off his marriage with a secret and a lie which didn't bode well for the future. This answer thrilled him because it showed him I was not about getting his money but seeing who he really was. He was so thrilled he thought he should ask me more questions since now I became a guru of sorts. "Is masturbation ok?" Yes. "What about fantasies?" Yes. Of course it is paradoxical because we are from different cultures and lifestyles and he can't just adopt my opinion because he wants to. but he does want to, it would take away his guilt and shame. He asks if he can call me again sometime as a friend. I said I was pretty busy and not probable. A couple days later he called again singing my praises of wisdom and gratitude and saying he thought of me as a sister. I had to call bullshit on him, I felt like he was greasing me with flattery, to get what he wanted (free talk) I said a friendship with him was one way and not beneficial for me. I said he could pay me to give him my undivided mental attention for an hour which of course he didn't want to do. He has two phones and from time to time I forget his number and answer when he calls. He begs and cajoles me to just answer one more question or explain one more thing and if I am driving or a captive audience, I engage with him. His questions were leading to I suspected his biggest shame and fear. "How old are you? I am young enough to be your son. I like women who are older" He had sexual fantasies about his mother. I told him it was okay to fantasize about his mother and then I had to hang up to work. That day he called me like 20 more times throughout the afternoon but I didn't pick up because I was using my focus to do what I wanted. Today he called me to announce he got a job and to ask questions about how I would feel if I knew my son had sexual fantasies about me. I said. "It would not be something to discuss because it would be embarrassing, but in the realm of the mind whatever appears must be held with compassion, because there is no option. To hate and bury what is inside you is slow suicide." He thanked me and I hope he never calls me again.
I would like to see a book titled: How Whores have Enhanced my Life, a compilation by Anonymous Johns
this would be a book that spans centuries. Men wax poetically romantic on the qualities that the women they see in paid encounters have. They do this on review boards where anonominity is assured. They tell me to my face often or in emails afterwards. Many of the sex workers I know feel gratified in their jobs because one of them said last night: Erotic energy is a powerful force to connect the conscious and unconscious. Wow! that and then some.

how I spend my time

2009-10-28T21:40:00.000-07:00

I have enjoyed all the anonymous comments. They contribute to my formulation of a framework or meaning. Everyone has to fit in my concept of how things are and how I am. When that makes sense to me, I feel good. For some people having it figured out is belief in Religion and God. I have to figure out how all people fit into existence. How all the different ways to believe are actually a piece of the same whole. I take everything I see, hear and witness to weave together this belief and it can always change with new input.
I had a conversation about Calvinism, a form of Protestentism this week and it sounds like this belief system was alive and majoritized in this country's history and has its roots in many of our unexamined beliefs ( like the ones I wrote about in the last post). It seems to me that all people want good for themselves and others (except some who have disorders, but they still belong as the shadow). All people have a different idea of how to manifest that good in the world and sometimes we all get deluded that others should think like we do. Because we are all human, we might recognize this tendency, except we can be so deep in our knowing what is right. We or I. I am using "we" because I notice this tendency in alot of people and myself.
I compare my sex clients to my therapy clients and myself and how I act in real life, sex work life and therapy life. I listen to a 20 year old and it brings back wisps of how I thought 20 years ago. I know this is getting too broad and probably not understandable. and I don't need to make sure you understand it. Here is a fact: we are meaning making creatures. It is a facet of the human brain. All cultures throughout time have come up with explanations and theories about human existence. someone thought up Nilhism which says life is meaningless. the extreme opposite. almost a defense to all the unfulfilled desire that some people never can achieve. Why can some people not meet another person to love happily? They want it and it never happens?
I wonder if our life is a theme that we lock into in childhood. Mine would be I have to fight for the right to be who I am. self determination. I am always in a battle with some facet of the population. even when dormant, I an fighting for my respectable right to be a sex worker, besides making a good living, enjoying my work and that I get to invent who I am and what I offer, I also want people to respect me for my choice.
new subject: sex work
the client tonight thinks about my boyfriend fucking his wife next to us in the bed. This was what he was telling me right before he came. He never met my boyfriend. This will never happen. If it did my boyfriend would hate it.
The client this morning said I was less shielded than usual. I was not aware of ever being shielded. But I liked that he was paying attention. I responded, "Interesting."

trigger

2009-10-17T22:40:00.000-07:00

I enjoyed exchanging comments with Anonymous from my post of Sept 30, and I have more to say. This blog was titled Metaphysical Pussy for a reason. Interfacing with sexuality is a philosophical arena. It’s like looking at the stars...it makes one wonder what is going on? Anonymous’ comments managed to piss me off. I became interested in what exactly was triggering me. Of course getting called whiny and selfish is annoying but when the person is incorrect, why would I get bothered but such frivolty? It activates a shame button that has previously been activated. I hear my mother and father telling me how disgusted they are with my selfishness in a variety of ways. I feel the need to prove my credentials of generosity and kindness, but another part of myself knows I don’t have to do that because I know who I am. There are unexamined assumptions floating in the air. We breathe them and frame our constructs using them. I affectionately call this colonization of the mind. These constructs if unexamined, force our thoughts into judgmental channels. The idea that selfishness is bad. I consciously do not adopt this notion, but I didn’t send it into exile without a struggle and even in exile it’s footprint remains.
In therapy sessions, every client makes a guilty confession of “I feel like its selfish of me but.... I do want this (fill in the blank)___ for myself.” A good therapist does not announce their own value judgments, but I can’t stop myself from blurting out, “I think selfish is good.” Dr. Marty Klein has relabeled this quality “selfcareish”. I went to a workshop once where we did an exercise. We were instructed to walk around and say to the other participants as a compliment, “You are so selfish!” and respond “Thank you and you are so selfish too.” It brought giggles, embarrassment and a sense of relief as well. An extreme antidote for the above mentioned prevailing hegemony of anti- selfishness. This is not to say that altruism is not a beautiful quality. Dedicating one’s life to the service of others is astounding and admirable. This is not to say that thinking about others feelings and needs is obsolete. Balance- key word. Embracing selfishness can be helpful to the world. Desire is part of being human.
Carl Jung wrote about human archetypes. Not claiming expertise on Jung, but I remember that ‘The Martyr’ is one of them. Most people have tried on that persona at one time. It can feel good sometimes to sacrifice. Most of the world prays to a very famous martyr. Anonymous, I bet you resonate with that archetype. It is hard for you to be happy, while others are suffering. You desire a world that values equality and perhaps adopts more socialistic principles. I admire that ideology as well. It is caring that you worry about a single mom working at Starbucks who is sleep deprived and poor. I care about her too. Too bad she isn’t a sex worker, but luckily she can choose to be if she wants. I think it comes down to each persons right to choose. Selfishness is the way to go for some, but does that provide happiness? Who is to say? Each individual discovers or not their path. I don’t like my path being criticized with self righteousness dripping off of it under the auspices of an ideology that selfishness is bad. That triggered me. The combo of self righteous and colonization. But hey anon, we have similarities and our conflict has brought me closer to you in thought and feeling. I grok an understanding of our oneness. The more I feel oneness, the more I feel good. Because if we are one....in humanness, I have no choice but to love you.

switch

2009-10-14T19:09:00.000-07:00

I switched back and forth from therapist to whore yesterday, leaning heavier on the therapist side. 9 was my first therapy appointment. I tend to limit my revelation about these for reasons of confidentiality. Suffice it to say that I felt his yearning to be understood and I fulfilled it. I barely watch TV, which my son says contributes to my “not knowing anything” about real life. This client mentioned a TV show, one which my boyfriend watches and I actually find enlightening sometimes. I was so happy to be able to connect with him over that reference. Wearing my new boots, I called a therapist friend who was in her office nearby and stopped in to talk. She was surprised I would wear these boots for work (Uggs). As we were deciding what and where to do for lunch, I got a call for work to which I agreed. But was it sex? The client has his prostate removed for 8 years and due to that, less reliable hard ons. He is interested in me fisting his ass but since there is not a prostate there, I wonder what sensations he is enjoying. He wants me to get inside the “second sphincter.” I do not know intestinal anatomy nor do I feel competent to explore it. I know a man died some time this last year from getting a horse to fuck him in the ass perforating his intestinal wall and allowing his blood to mix with feces. I told this guy I did not want to be the cause of his death. He was not worried and kept trying to get me to find the passageway “it’s to the right. do you feel it? it can’t be that difficult!” Of course I was wearing gloves and being in up to my wrist already, They do not make opera length latex gloves. I felt only soft flesh and barriers. We were arguing over if I would try to find this area or not, both of us sticking to our original opinions. I found it very unsexy and wonder how he experienced it. We went through 7 gloves and half a can of crisco. He lay on his back, his side and with his ass in the air. Why can’t he just enjoy a regular hand? He finished himself by jerking off. He did not want any unsafe activities like blow job or eating pussy because he had recently gone for his STD checkup and was hoping after a negative report to have no need to worry. He said he had sucked off a guy and took come in his mouth, but didn’t swallow. It was obvious he felt guilty about his desires or perhaps the guilt was about his succumbing to the enactment of his desires. “What’s wrong with me? Why do I have to do this?” he asks rhetorically. I took therapist stance and said, “Losing your prostate has changed your responsivity. You are looking for new ways to experience sensation.” I don’t think guilt serves anyone as much as compassion. I sterilized everything that touched him when he left. I had a 6 appt for therapy and the client was allowing herself to feel the pain that she was trying to avoid for years. I was moved by her. I can’t say more. I felt competent in my role. She was brave. Then I went home, had dinner, walked my dog with my wonderful boyfriend and went to my outcall hotel. He asked me to come at 10 but his idea of time was skewed. He called at 9 and asked where I was. “Walking my dog,” I responded. “I’m not supposed to arrive till 10.” Was he disoriented or drunk? I don’t know but when I met him he seemed tired, drunk or both. Soon, I was faking to enjoy myself and wishing I could enjoy myself as flamboyantly and excessively as I pretend. After a few minutes of fucking he acted like he was going to put his cock in my ass. I said he certainly would not and then I decided I wanted him to come and be done. I arranged that pretty soon after and left. He overpaid me. Whether it was generosity or drunkenness, I do not know, but it was good. I came home and my boyfriend was still awake which was lovely. We got in bed and he acted like he would go to sleep. I wanted to have sex with him. He said, “You had alot of dicks today.” “I only had one and it wasn’t the one I wanted.” I replied. For purposes of his confidentiality I can only say, it was good.

don't count my money before it is made

2009-09-30T18:22:00.001-07:00

I start making money and counting chickens before hatching. and then I'm gonna buy this and that and send money to so and so etc. is it so fun to imagine things...why? then they start canceling. today the guy I say no to two appts cause he is booked comes in. seems very uncomfortable, admits he is nervous. then says he can't do it. I wonder if I am not attractive to him. He "honestly" tells me he is feeling guilt to his
SO and when he made the appt they were fighting and now, he thinks its not a good idea. If i had known half an hour earlier I could have had somebody else. so I allow him to leave giving me a $40 waste my time fee. and go buy a slip for tomorrow's fantasy of I am your therapist and you tell me about your stocking/ foot fetish. Another guy who obsessively called me like 20 times to schedule a duo which I had to call and arrange with the other girl and say no to two other people calls to cancel because of family medical emergency. fine. I try to reschedule the guy I said no to. I send 2 emails and don't hear back. this sucks!!!! I cannot play games of new boots and new rug anymore. that is all. done ranting.

definition of whore

2009-09-28T19:01:00.000-07:00

Business is slow but I’m still not desperate as witnessed by this conversation I had today with a guy who is trying to book an appointment with me from a number that reads “unavailable”. People use the word “whore” as an insult to those who are not selling sex. ex: “Those politicians (lawyers, journalists etc) are a bunch of whores!” I have analyzed it to mean, They will do anything for money. It annoys me and I usually am compelled to interupt and correct their word usage because whores do not do anything for money. They do what they decide is okay for them to do for payment.
I got a call last night at 9:45 looking for a appointment right away. My bills are reminding me they exist however, I am not available at the snap of his fingers. He did not impress me as having good manners either because he did not introduce himself to me by name before asking. I am not a hole with legs.
This morning Unavailable with an accent calls and does introduce himself asking for an appointment.
guy: “ Hi I’m (name). Do you remember me?
me: no I don’t remember.
guy: we talked alot.
me: really! what about?
guy: you were booked and told me to call another time.
(how memorable I’m sure)
me: well you are calling from a number I can’t see. I don’t book from unavailable numbers.
guy: laughing (like I am making things hard for him just for my own amusement.) I’m calling from a computer phone.
me: do you have a cell phone?
guy: no
(well then you probably can’t afford me)
Me: well I can’t book anyone with a number I can’t see.
guy: can you just tell me why?.
Me: sure. Its so if you kill me, the police will find you and you will get in trouble.
he laughs like I could only be joking.
me: Didn’t you hear about the recent Craig’s List killer? (no) the Green River Killer. (I am not up on naming all the prostitute killers) Where do you work?
guy: (gives a location.)
me: well I can verify your employment, if you give me the number.
guy: no (laughing like I am utterly crazy.) another girl I saw didn’t make me go thru this.
Me: oh Great! you saw another girl. Well I can call her and check out that you are a nice guy.
Guy: no! I don’t want her to know that I am seeing someone else.
(oh come on! this is not a romance based on fidelity)
me: well I gave you options and you decided not to take them. I’m sorry.

the end. and business has since picked up and the bills are satisfied.

I got a flyer in the mail announcing the 6th annual conference on Prostitution, sex Work and Human trafficking. it is a victim based, help the poor exploited ones type of forum. I wish I could go and infiltrate but I won’t. I emailed one woman who is presenting asking her to clarify if the conference was about non- consensual prostitution or all. That should be an interesting response.

Voulez Vous...?

2009-09-16T16:39:00.000-07:00

I was at Trader Joes to pick up supplies (with no makeup on by the way). I parked at the same time as a man in a 1984 Alfa Romeo spider convertible. Cars are not my area of interest, except for old Alfas. I just find them particularly cute. I asked him about the year of his car and we had a meaningless flirty conversation in the elevator. Recently having attended a conference on Sex and Shamanism. I am in the process of grokking the idea that erotic energy is powerful and life affirming and I don't have to be afraid of letting mine flow. It isn't dangerous. Apparently it was flowing well and I gave the man a big smile in response to something he said about learning how to control the weather in the future. We exited the elevators, got our carts and began our journey through the aisles of goodies. We kept crossing paths as we shopped and he made it known that he was aware of me. I did not defend myself from that as I usually would because I am dreading having to reject somebody if I "lead them on" with their inevitable desire for more. He found an opening as I was finishing my complimentary cup of java that Trader Joes graciously provides for its customers by asking me, "how's the coffee?" "Better than none." was my response. "Could I buy you a coffee sometime?" He asked. I did not want to interpret this as painful to him and consequently to me. I had to say no because I am putting all my energy into the wonderful relationship I have currently. I answered, " Then that would lead to the possibility of a relationship and I already have one. but otherwise I would." He seemed to take that fine. I wondered if he would want me just for an hour or two, being that he could experience pleasure and connection easily, in exchange for money. I have never solicited anyone verbally and Trader Joes was not the place to begin. However I had one card in my wallet that I made for this profession. It has a artful depiction of a woman and "sensations artist" is my title. It has my phone # and website. I was done shopping before him and being that his top was down, I left it on his seat with a handwritten message on the back. "But an hour or two of pleasure is possible." I wonder if he'll call. The interaction felt exciting to me.

ADHD (pathology title) ideas tumbling out (reframe)

2009-09-09T01:07:00.000-07:00

Business is slow but I have plenty to do while I’m not working. I recently realized that I have a therapist, a coach, a supervisor and an acupuncturist. A yoga teacher, a pilates instructor, a dog walker and a consultation group. I belong to two professional listserves. and I am trying to write a website for my future career and promote that in other ways like giving free speeches on topics of interest. This is called marketing. Always comparing the same and different dynamics of my two careers, I noticed that sex work barely needs marketing although if I did engage in it, I’m sure it would pay off. I am a female who is reasonably good looking and I am willing to share my body and its pleasures. That’s all that’s necessary. Put up an ad with a picture and business is immediate. Therapy is another animal entirely. When I get an inquiry call for sex work, I know all the answers. They ask, “What are we going to do together?” I answer, “Have fun.” Of course they are looking for specifics to which I reply both for reasons of discretion and otherwise, “Well I don’t know exactly, that depends on what you want.” I throw the ball back to them and they have to reveal their desire first, which of course is what will govern how I deal with them. When I get a call from a therapy seeker, it is not as easy to reel them in. “What is your approach?” I have fancy language and ideas but how well does that communicate? Similarly I don’t know them yet, so I don’t know what approach will work with them. I had a therapy session with a couple last week in which I felt very competent. I felt so competent, that it seemed like I moved up a level. How many levels exist? I have no idea, I am not at the top yet. After this session, I answered a call from a prospective woman of a married couple. I tried to explain to her that my first goal would be to facilitate her becoming aware of herself and what drives her. Secondly the couple would become aware of the pattern between them and what is driving it. With that gained clarity, they would be able to choose different responses to each other. “Can it work in 3 sessions?” she asked. I said, surprised that I knew the answer, “In 3 sessions, you can know if you have hope.” Anyway she hasn’t scheduled with me yet.
of course that was not the subject I came here to write about.
Today I saw a man who was passing thru town. I like to be part of a vacation experience. He said as I was massaging his back, that he was on a pilgrimage. This was a concept, I was interested in hearing more about. His mother had recently died and his father and brother had died as well. His wife has health issues including cancer. He was raised in an alcoholic family and had been an alcoholic himself. Now he uses twelve steps ideology to deal with his “addictive personality” which included porn, looking and fantasizing about women, masturbation. He prays to a higher power. Wow! He also confessed to being a caretaker and rageaholic. Interesting how all his behaviors are pathologized (by him). (That was my response.) Why can’t he see himself positively like a passionate, loving, desiring person who has given so much to others, and subsequently and realistically feels angry and hurt resulting in needing to devote more time to himself to achieve a healthier balance? Because pathology must be a comforting place to hang out. We get to loathe ourselves. ahhhh how familiar.

Yesterday a man consulted with me to see if I would be able to help him learn how to satisfy women. He is about my age and his desire is to marry. He portrays himself as not knowing anything about women, and what he does know is he is insufficient. He gets this information from experience. Anytime he has managed to have sex with a woman, she has treated him like the plague afterwards. “That must feel horrible!” I sympathized. He had a neurotic, Woody Allenesque charm. My life just changed with a phone call, I now have an 8:30 appt. Quarterly taxes will get paid on time! And yet another digression. I got this big red zit on my butt. That’s bad enough, but then it starting itching, so I thought it must be ringworm. I looked it up online and started putting teatree oil on it. I decided I had to go to the STD clinic this morning just to make sure I was not contagious. I showed the woman my ass and she says, “That’s just a pimple.” “Are you sure?” I asked. “I’ve been here 22 years!” she assured me. I have seen her every 6 months for the last couple years so we somewhat know each other. She says to me as I am leaving, “Save your money.” I say, “Why?” “So you can quit.” she says like obviously I want to quit. Like there would be no way I was satisfied or even happy with my job. “I had two sisters that did this...” she continued. “then they saved their money and bought a house so they quit.” “Well I have a house,” I told her, “but the mortgage....”

Now it is way later then when I began this entry and it is time to go to sleep. I had a fun appointment. The client had a good sense of humor and playfulness. It occurred to me that some men may regret spilling their hearts out to me and showing weakness (i.e. real feelings) They might be looking for an experience that is a relief from reality: entertainment, fantasy, feminine. for further pondering.....

we are free

2009-08-29T13:28:00.000-07:00

I told her this morning as we were leaving starbucks. I began, "I have to tell you this one thing about myself that might shock you..." I saw a kinda smile on her face. I blurted it out. she responded, "I know." her mom had told her awhile ago. she forgets why the topic ever came up. I said she could ask questions about it. She wanted to know the logistics of how it worked. the she asked the question everyone asks, "What if they are fat and ugly?" I told her that didn't matter. "How does your boyfriend feel about it?" and "How much do you make?" and "how old was the oldest client? (80) and the youngest(19)?" So... she mentioned a book she had read called eleven MInutes by Paulho Coelho which I think I read a long time ago. So the phone rang, I got a quick job this afternoon and all is well. I asked if she was happy there were no secrets between us and she shrugged.

the truth will set us free

2009-08-28T11:23:00.000-07:00

an 18 year old woman/girl who I have known since she is 1 year old is coming to stay the weekend with me. So we are shifting into a relationship between adults. I want to tell her the truth about my work. I want to be able to answer the phone while she is here. I am nervous. I keep rehearsing in my head how I am going to break the news to her. She is almost here so I will write about it after

Why choose me?

2009-08-19T01:33:00.000-07:00

I am sitting on my back porch with a cup of decaf chai, after midnight. It is perfect end of summer weather. I knew the guy I saw tonight was going to be weird. He called me and said he wanted a tantra session to heal himself from eczema and just one question: did I have an intact uterus. That was of vital importance. I said yes and that I would bring my dog with me. He said he was allergic to dogs. I decided that my dog would be on premises, because I knew the guy was weird and I would feel more protected. If he couldn’t deal with that, he could leave. Luckily I am pretty, so he didn’t want to leave. He asked me to wash my hands after I petted my dog and before I touched him, which was not a problem. I forgot to mention I told him I was not trained in tantra and he said it didn’t matter. I am willing to suspend my disbelief to hold another’s belief system, especially if they think something is beneficial. Their thought can hold the power and therefore reap actual benefits. (like praying for example) When he began telling me his story, I went along with it. “The Higher Powers have been testing me recently very strongly and they haven’t let me be with a woman for a long time.” I said, “If they aren’t letting you, then why are you doing it?” Of course he had a sensible answer. “Well I have been communicating with them and in fact I am going to be working with them in the future, so I know this is the way I have to heal myself.” “Oh.” I said, like I understood. He was sweating profusely. In fact his long sleeve shirt was drenched before we started any activity. He told me that tantra was really simple. “This might sound weird, but you have to try to love me.” he began. I assured him that I could love him with universal love. (I was not lying) “You see the reason men and women are attracted to each other is because we have opposite polarities,” he explained. “so I spend as much time inside your pussy as possible without having an orgasm to get the charge from your opposite polarity which is what will heal me.” As he says all this stuff I am thinking I can’t wait to write this in my blog. “So you kiss me...” I interrupted. “I don’t kiss.” “Well, we can breathe together and there are certain sounds we can make that intensify the connection.” He taught me one that was ‘Ha’ sound on the inhale and ‘Say’ on the exhale. I had to imagine the energy traveling up and then down. We did this seven times. “Do you want me to lick your pussy?” he asked. “Not really I told him. I just want you to get healed.” “That makes me love you more,” he said. He didn’t take his sweaty shirt off the whole time to protect me from seeing his eczema. He scratched different parts of his body often and dripped sweat from his face which I gave him a towel to wipe. I didn’t want to interrupt my feeling of universal love by feeling repulsion. This was a difficult hour. I couldn’t wait to take a shower. I was reminded of a tape I brought in for review by my peers and teacher when I was in graduate school. We had to tape our sessions and show our work. My client was the slowest speaking individual on the planet. Of course I had a true fondness for him and found out extremely fascinating things about him by having enough patience to sit and wait for him to speak. I warned the class about his tendency before I started the tape. After they viewed it they were amazed by me. The love, care and tenderness I felt for this mentally ill man who was easy to overlook and do the minimun for; I gave him my best attention. I played gin rummy with him and he sometimes beat me. When he was playing cards he was up to full speed. My elbow is itching, what if I caught his weird skin thing.
The point of that memory is ... but first one more tangent. They will connect in the end. I saw my therapist today. First I told him that I think about death more than I believe is necessary. But that is not the point. Then I told him I am struggling to write my website as a therapist. I told him my categories and the one I was having trouble with was titled “Why choose me?” He asked me “Why?” I didn’t want to answer and say how great I am for whatever reason bla bla bla I have an aversion to saying that. Of course this is the reason I am in therapy, so I have to find why I have this aversion and hopefully get rid of it and in my therapist’s words, “bring my gifts to the world”. I announced my urge to start being sarcastic and joke, did not give in to it and tried to look into his eyes and tell him the answer. “Because I live and think outside the box, Because I love people and find the beauty in them even if they think it is not there.” These words do not convey what I mean. I said, “it would be easier if I told you why someone should choose me for sex work.” Okay why? “Because I will accept and engage with you and whatever moves you and I will be present with you and embrace you in your desires.” He said, “just pretend you are writing it for sex work and make a few changes and it will probably be the same reason.” He is right. Do you see how it all is connected? The man tonight, the man on tape. Me -able to love everyone- pedophiles, gangbangers, perhaps with the exception of Right to Lifers.
The man under and on top of me tonight, I wonder where he derailed. I wonder why the invented story about polarities, what is underneath it that he is more scared to need? Now my ankles are itching.
As he left he said he was feeling really good so he thinks it must have worked. I asked how long till it would take effect? He said possibly a week. I told him to call me and let me know.

long time no post

2009-08-09T23:14:00.000-07:00

He sounded retarded the first time we talked on the phone. But I don’t discriminate, it could also be a voice impediment so I booked a meeting a week in advance. I waited to see, if he would call to confirm which he did. This time I detected an English accent in his voice, which I found out was Scottish. He is a short and slim guy with a mustache, smoker’s teeth and cough. He is 65 years old and hasn’t had sex for 40 years since his divorce. I asked why he didn’t have any girlfriends during that time and he claimed it was because women couldn’t understand him (accent) He told me he comes really fast. I know how to be careful in that situation, I move really slow. I stroked his cock with oil and sucked it slow. I encouraged him to watch because I also believe that being more completely present to the situation helps with control. The funny thing we discovered is that he was mistaken about himself and was basing his predictions on his experiences from 40 years ago. He told me he was receiving the first blowjob he ever had. I was thrilled to be able to give him this gift. When I slowly rolled the condom on him and slowly lowered myself onto his cialis inspired cock, He did not explode quickly. In fact he took his good sweet time. I asked him if there were any positions he had never tried and so called “doggie style” was mentioned. I positioned him behind me to enter. He tried to wrap his body over mine, but I told him to stay perpendicular and hold on to my hips. Soon he got the hang of it and then as is common in that position, he came. This was after 45 minutes of the hour, which is not too shabby. I could tell he would stay and regale with me half comprehendable stories of his life travels for hours. Luckily I found a polite way to get him moving. He has a fear of dogs which caused me to shut my lovely canine in another room. I told him I had to rescue her or he had the choice of meeting her. I predicted he would choose the former.

An old guy comes to see me who is on a trip visiting his family. This is the second time I saw him and although he is nice enough, I don’t look forward to seeing him again. Perhaps it is the soiled toilet paper he wears like a mini pad in his underwear to catch his unwiped poop, that he forgets to remove before I undress him. His uncut clawlike toenails don’t add to his image. But these being tough, economic times, I feigned enthusiasm and agreed to 3 hours. Of course his eyes were bigger than his stomach or in this case his imagination was stronger than his cock. He told me his whole life story. I sometimes believe my purpose is to be a witness and so I take the confessional seriously and try to understand what needs to be expressed by the outpouring. Later that week he kept calling me to tell me he couldn’t see me again and that his wife spied on his computer and caught him doing his naughty activities. I didn’t feel like answering. I listened to the voicemails. I could tell he felt let down by my non participation during his time of hardship and I felt bad. On the other hand, I am not a babysitter. My heart is gold, not platinum.

Objectum Sexuality: I heard about it on NPR, googled it and listened to the youtubes. I suggest you do the same.

I love my job. The masses come.

After they come, they spill their stories. failed adoptions, wives and daughters that leave messes all over the house, past loves, past travels, loss, pain, frustration, joy. we intersect for a moment and then.....

Mean Older Sis

2009-07-09T00:40:00.000-07:00

I called him from the garage when I parked at his hotel so he would be prepared to await me naked, kneeling on the floor with his head bowed. This was his idea which I readily agreed to. His belt was sitting nearby for my future use. A glass of red wine was poured and waiting for me. It was quite a pleasant site to walk in on. I trusted his obedience while I unpacked my tools to be within arms reach. I let him kiss my toes first which peeked out from my laced up sandals. I asked if he wanted me to undress which of course he did. I told him it would cost him. First I applied a blindfold. I told him the price to take off my shoe would be two face slaps. He did not attempt to bargain and so I proceeded to give each side a sound slap which caused him to gasp. I took off my shoe. I told him that my shirt would cost him 10 whacks of his belt on his ass. He agreed to my price and the first one landed soundly down his crack into the most sensitive area. I wouldn't do this to anyone randomly, this man requested this type of interaction (just so you know) I had him count each whack and thank me after I doled it out. He was very enthusiastic and made good sounds of discomfort. I noticed that his cock was rock hard. "Well I have pants, my bra, underwear and my other shoe left," I announced. "I think a fair price for my pants is a kick in the balls." He did not argue and so I aimed and shot him there with my foot that still wore a shoe. I was not pleased with the feel of that connection and so I did a couple more kicks until I felt his groaning to be sufficient. The whole time I am laughing with glee and mischief because I am getting paid to be a totally unreasonable, whimsical, cruel, bitch. That amuses me. His nipples getting pinched win him my bra off. Accepting my finger in his tight little ass is the trade that allows him to remove my panties with his teeth. Before I let him enjoy me with his eyes, I caress his back with my bare skin. Wrists handcuffed behind his back, he is now allowed to gaze upon me and kiss what he can reach of me. I spit wine into his mouth to be generous. What submissive doesn't crave to please his mistress with his tongue? This man is no exception and so I must endure his ministrations of trying to pleasure me. I look at the clock. I have used 40 minutes to arrive at this point. I have two hours to spend so I am doing well. I ask him how long he imagines it will take to make me come. He bets 10 minutes. I say he only has 5 and I lay back trying to find either an once of pleasure or a way to ignore his tongue lashing. I know this is sad. I am only telling you because it is true. Every story has dark and light or why else would it be worth telling. I don't bother to fake an orgasm because I can torture him by not allowing him to give me one. We reposition to a hotel chair with ottoman. His head and shoulders are on the Otoman. I regret out loud that I didn't bring my nipple clamps. He quickly suggests a substitute; the pants hanger in the closet. I am impressed with this guy's ingenuity and I go remove his pants carefully from the hanger and bring it to use on his nipples. It fits perfectly giving me a handle to pull with. His moans of pain are satisfying to hear and I cover his mouth with my cunt to muffle him. He likes his cock slapped which I enjoy as well. He helps me hold his balls so I can tie the whole package up with a shoelace and it turgidity lends itself very nicely to the slapping, scratching and various tortures I devise in alternating sequences. I give him another five minutes to try to bring me to orgasm but this time I combine it with a dildo that I balance on his chin. After he fails again I take the dildo out of myself and shove it into his mouth. He doesn't look like that was part of his menu, but I enjoy watching him struggle to take it. I ask him if he is the youngest child in his family. He says no. I say, "what are you?" he replies "the oldest." I say, "You messed up my theory." and give him a good slap on the balls and cock because I am truly annoyed that he is not the youngest sibling. I had a beautiful streak of that being true whenever I asked. Soon I decide to use his cock for its greater purpose and give it a ride. He starts stroking me on my neck and immediately chanting for me to come. Again I am annoyed for he is breaking my concentration. I inform him to stop the neck stroking. I load my old worn out fantasy (not telling) and press play. Pretty soon even with my inferior pocket rocket I am able to come. He is gratified, he has done his job. Now he figures its his turn. I say, "Oh you think you get to come." I should have held it there longer and made him beg, but I decided to let him. I wanted to pee on him because he had never tried that. I set him up in the bathtub with a towel and stroked his cock and pulled his balls and when he said he was close, let go with a stream of pee. He came and I wiped it from his cock into his mouth. I saw him spit it out with distaste. Then we took a quick shower and spent the rest of the time talking. He has seen many different providers and he told me what he liked about each of them. He tipped me and gave me the rest of the wine to take home. That is when work is fun.
In between my fun ways to waste time and fun ways to spend time I am forcing myself with the help of a coach to spend half an hour on productivity tasks. this includes developing my Other Career. I do feel more successful just from 30 min a day (with a timer- it flies)

twatter

2009-06-25T11:19:00.000-07:00

If this was twitter or more appropriately twatter I would have said in the last week

Man I dressed in fishnet stockings, heels and dress cleaning my kitchen floor with a buttplug in his ass. He is doing a good job.

Man wore too much cologne. when I came home my boyfriend couldn't stand my odor and I had to shower and wash my hair.

Today I have to hurry. I get scared to tell what I am doing because it makes me recognizable in the community. so I can only admit that I will have a 2 and a 3:30. the 3:30 wants to be forced to eat his cum.

Lock down

2009-06-09T23:33:00.000-07:00

Today I saw something new! A client came in wearing a chastity belt. It isn't really a belt but a plastic device that his wife locked on his cock so that nobody (himself included) can touch it. It has a small slit for the pee to exit. How did this come about? Who would endure such torture? He talked about his wife most of the session and how she uses him for her sexual satisfaction. I tried to discern whether he was complaining, but I think he was bragging about the ways she enjoys controlling him and he is forced to submit. I asked him where he was in the birth order of his family and was not surprised to find out he was the youngest boy with two older sisters. That constellation grooms a man to know who is in control of things. His wife was the older of her siblings and I am the oldest in my family so our dynamics flowed naturally. He also was a prostate cancer survivor, which left him with an inability to get erections although if he was capable, that device would make it painful judging from its shape. He still enjoys getting fucked with a strap on and eating pussy. His wife caught him getting his dick sucked by a provider a couple years ago. "Where were you?" I asked. "At our home, I thought my wife would be gone all day." was his response. "You're dumb." I blurted. My conjectured theory is that their relationship found a way to become the one that would best serve each of them. From his stories, I glean that the wife first used the device to punish him and now that she has gotten over his betrayal, enjoys her dominance over him. She apparently spends enough time using him for her satisfaction that he feels engaged. She told him he either wore the device or they would divorce, so he chose. He reported that she spends hours on the internet looking at accessories. He told me she would soon be buying a ejaculating dildo for him to suck. I suggested that there were probably tools that could cut the lock. "How would I explain that?" he mused, not entertaining the possibility for a minute. I wanted to show my downstairs neighbor and have the chance to humiliate my client simultaneously. My neighbor came up to see the spectacle. I took a picture on my camera phone to show my boyfriend He doesn't discuss his situation with his friends. She takes it off once a month so he can get waxed. Although he sounds very submissive to his wife and all her demands, I believe it was his assertion of independence to visit me for a couple of hours.

I watched a movie The Doors with Val Kilmar playing Jim Morrison. I had not paid much attention to this band as it was before my time. Jim/Val is hot! He is extreme in doing what he wants. This quality is called "balls" and I would like a word that uses a female anatomical counterpart. I have been thinking about balls and how people admire that when it is present. I told my therapist this and other things and he calls it "coming from your core" He means when I am so knowing who I am and what I believe, that I must say it, speak it and share it. Jim did it in a reactive way sometimes, reacting to past demons or authority. I want to do it from what I know to be true. I do it here under the protection of anonyminity, but I am apt to lose it when I am around people I imagine would disagree with me. I want to embody it more often. I have a fear of being an authority. Now is this art or just therapy? Is this narcissism or revelation of humanity? "Get back to the sex." thinks one of the anonymous commentators.

In the afternoon I saw my semi regular manic pussy licker. I faked 3 orgasms. I wanted to have a real one, but it just didn't happen even with fantasies reeling through my head. I should have thought of Jim. Then I had a break and returned to see a very sweet fellow who was visiting me for the first time. He used the restroom and then I suggested we get naked. While he was still undressing, (I beat him cause I was only wearing a slip) he said, "This is already exceeding my expectations." How cute to be so easily thrilled. He repeated how happy he was every 5 minutes in a genuine way. He hadn't had sex in a year and a half. He said after hearing about David Carradines' recent death he realized, "Death can happen anytime soon (he is 58) so I would hate to be dying and regret not having sex enough." He wants to date but "is so busy doing ..." The idea of impending death is what drives mid-life crises and part of that is the realization that sex is a joyous part of life that requires indulgence. Another client, after visiting his sick mother in a nursing home, made the guilt wrenching decision to get more action than his wife was giving out. I saw a pilot whose plane took off next to the plane that crashed into the Trade Towers on 9/11. That inspired him to get a divorce ASAP. "That could have been me flying that plane. what am I doing in a sexless marriage? it is time to enjoy the life i have left."

All these topics are probably related: Balls, Death, and chastity belts.

The Girlfriend Experience (the movie)

2009-06-04T00:07:00.000-07:00

Recently a location similar to a massage parlour got busted and there was news stories and comments. One comment especially struck me from a man who said (paraphrased)," I am not attractive to women and my social skills are not great. I suffer from depression and anxiety. This venue was an opportunity for me, the only opportunity to get touch and affection." I was thinking about laws that are supposed to be about justice and fairness. Picking up your dog's poo so other people won't step in it is fair. Laws against stealing, killing, or ripping people off are fair. When it comes to human interactions though it cannot be made fair. There can't be a law that a beautiful woman has to fuck a man she isn't really attracted to once a year, so that he can enjoy himself sexually. There can't be a law that a wife has to have sex with her husband if she doesn't feel like it, because he wants it and he pays the bills. There are shelters for homeless and food banks for hungry and Medicaid for poor people so what about a law that provides sex for people that have trouble procuring it. What about people who can get sex but want more? People are allowed to buy as many cars as they want if they can afford them. I know here I am probably preaching to the choir. The question is: Is sexual expression an inalienable right? Is it considered a basic need along with food and shelter? Sex occurs between two consenting people, so how can this situation be insured for all people? In a similar vein.... What about friendship and companionship? I have friends whose company doesn't really bring me pleasure. I have felt like a charity friend. Yet I feel a bond with some people who poured out their heart and pain to me. I gave them space to pour it. I can feel for them and sympathize and care about them. These people find themselves in situations where they cannot find romantic partners or friends. This makes them sad and a belief gets lodged in their mind that people don't like them. That makes me sad, I want them to feel wanted. People are what makes life worthwhile and bring satisfaction and happiness. I do feel liked by alot of people. I attribute that to my genuine curiosity and compassion that I show for whoever is in my presence. But often in groups of professionals, I feel ignored and shunned. When I feel that way, it feels familiar.

I saw the movie The Girlfriend Experience tonight. I like to see movies about prostitutes because since everybody believes Hollywood portrayals, I have to see what is coming down the pike. This movie had 3 other watchers (not very popular compared to Star Trek) The star was Sasha Gray who is also a porno actress. Was it realistic? It took place in NY and the premise was she was an expensive escort. The dollar amount was not named, but I read somewhere it was $2000 an hour. She portrayed this by dressing in designer clothes and shoes, being young and having perfect makeup and never smiling. This is not my niche, so I am not an expert on this market. Her clients seemed to want to talk and eat and drink more than have sex. What I think I am selling is enthusiasm, enjoyment of sex, initiation and inventiveness. I did not perceive her selling the same products. They showed behind the scene things like review boards, website designers and boyfriends in a way that could be realistic. She believed in a kind of analysis called Personology which might be made up. It was sorta like Astrology. She asked clients their birthday and judged them on that criteria. I found that realistic that she would have her thing that was alternative and she really believed in.

I did not work for money today. Nobody called. I did errands and tried to make myself do things on my list that I always procrastinate about. Like writing a website for my budding therapist. It was a fun day.

going with the flow

2009-06-02T23:39:00.000-07:00

It is Tuesday and I had nothing scheduled. Yesterday the day also started with no appointments and turned into 4, so the moral is -you never know. I try to position myself to go with the flow. I had an accupunture appointment in the morning and a supervision appointment in the afternoon. I was very excited to show my supervisor videotape of a session I recorded the previous week. I was not upset when there were no calls because it gave me time to get organized, although that is a never ending process. My supervisor said I got a gold star for starting the session in silence and waiting for the client to bring whatever they had. She said it was a minority of people who were able to do that. I was happy because I had never consciously decided to do that and I respect her opinion. Before the drive, I had checked email and talked to a guy who told me he liked the smell of women especially during their cycle. Well this man was in luck, I was on mine. I had never been specifically requested for this. Most clients, if I reveal this fact take a raincheck. I had him down for 7 which left time to stop at my son’s house on my way home and measure their windows because they need new screens. It was my good luck that when I called them, they weren’t home. I now had no obligations that couldn’t wait, so I could take my dog to the lake to cool off. My phone rings to ruin my newly hatched plans for pleasure. It is from Restricted. He says his name and that he emailed me last week telling me he’d be in town this week, but I never responded. I find this highly doubtful so either there was a techno glitch or he is lying. I am polite and apologize and commend him for calling. He says he spent 12 hours reading all the ads (compulsive) and I was the only one out of all that he called (excessive flattery). He says he is interested in me because I talked about enjoying fantasy and role plays. I say, “Great, what is your fantasy?” I actually give good phone. “I don’t know if I should say over the phone because I want to be a gentleman” I assure him he cannot offend me with words. “Rape” he admits. “I rape you.” I repeat just to check cause for sure it isn’t going to be the other way around. I asked if he imagined it to be rough or gentle (an important distinction). Gentle. Then he says he has to see me by 8 and asks where am I located. I say I can come to him if he doesn’t have a car. “Well my wife and kids are staying with me, so that’s impossible.” I did find that statement hard to believe. “I”ll probably come in a limo or a town car.” Nobody has ever said that as if to prove that they are so upscale. People take a taxi, but I still hadn’t written him off. I was prepared to rush to work and get ready to see him. “There is one thing,” I said, after I figured I had him reeled in, “You called me from a Restricted number.” “This is the hotel phone.” he replied.”Do you have a cell phone?” I asked. “Yes, but I’m not going to use it I am a banker who does billion dollar deals.” I wondered how his cell phone number related to that information, but I didn’t ask. I said “Trust is a two way street. Maybe you know someone you’ve seen before who can give you a reference.” He started getting persnickity about that idea and self righteous. Our rapport was swirling down the toilet. I didn’t want to see him. Especially after the recent highly publicized Craig’s List killer in Boston, if a man doesn’t understand my need for some semblance of safety, he is an idiot. “I’ll pass then.” he said assholishly.
There is a supermarket at the lake that sells good wine, so I stopped home to get a corkscrew. My dog swam and I drank chilled white wine from a coffee cup in the shade. The lake was crowded with dogs and their people. Then it was time to transition to work mode. The guy did not want me to shower. I felt sticky and sweaty and smelly. He arrived and looked kinda like a mix between Santa Claus and an elf. He was older, chubby, bearded. He drove an hour to see me in a pick-up. He claimed his penchant for odors came from being born on a farm. He wanted to lick and sniff my underwear first and then my pussy and asshole. I let him make me come with his mouth. He wanted and did drink my pee for dessert and licked his own come from my hand. He talked about women he met in different venues and briefly about his time in Vietnam. I am supposed to email him when I next have my period.

Dead Man Fucking

2009-05-14T16:14:00.000-07:00

I have half an hour till I have to take a shower and go to work at 5:30. I walked the dog and did yoga today. Pretty productive (sarcastic). A man calls me the other day. “Which one are you?” he asks me when I return his message. “I don’t know how many people you called.” (obviously quite a few). “ I want to be peed on, spit on and pooed on.” Did he say poo or shit? I don’t remember. “I find that hard to promise because I can’t schedule my bowel movements,” I replied. “Okay, I’ll pass then, because I’ve done everything else and that’s what I want. Usually I’m an alpha male and I just want to be treated differently.” Later he called me to tell me he was running a little late and would be right there. I said, “Excuse me, who is this because we don’t have an appointment.” I wonder who he found. He had called the wrong number back. Very alpha of him.
Another guy writes me an email asking if I will be here in June when he visits town. Scrolling down the email, I discover he has seen me before, but currently he is wearing a chastity device, (He sent a link to me www.cb-2000.com/cb6000-ani.html) that his wife put on after catching him with another woman. Apparently he has had prostate cancer and treatment also since I last seen him. He wants to know if we can work around his lockup. I say sure. What tickles me is the quickness that some people can be totally honest about desires and situations they would never tell most people close to them. I enjoy being in that position. So far out in the margins that I am acceptable to divulge to.
Another guy called me requesting half an hour appointment. People usually do this because they can’t afford the full hour and I being the generous person that I am and also having less business than usual, may say yes and split the price in half as well. He arrives and says, “Can we talk first before you put me on the clock?” Well I don’t exactly put him on the clock, but I schedule others with half an hour between them because, hello, I am in business. I tell him that I have a next appointment at 4. This is a clue that he is not exactly respectful of me. He says he wants to experience a full body orgasm like the kind he used to have before he was married (20 plus years ago). This is a clue that he is clueless. Who can experience a full body orgasm in half an hour. I tell him this dilemma. Then he tells me that he had cancer and surgery. He will start radiation next week. He is unhappily married to a woman who has no interest in sex with him (no shock there) and he quit his job because his company hired “Indians and Pakistanis.” He spewed their nationalities with utter contempt. I held my tongue, knowing that whatever liberal response I would give would fall on deaf ears. He said he wanted to experience all sexual things before he died and “I want to die.” he assured me. “you do?” I asked. “Yes. I don’t want to be old like my dad. He’s pathetic. He shits on the couch.” I had sympathy for this man, but little hope for connection. As he disrobed he proudly told me he had shaved his chest for me which made him uncomfortably prickly, but I feigned appreciation. He asked if he could come in my mouth and I said no. Sorry. He puts his concentration on my body parts and not my eyes. He doesn’t want massage. He claims to hate it. His tolerance to look in my eyes is about 5 seconds before he refocuses to my tits. He suddenly remembers that he forgot to take his viagra. He made his appointment yesterday. Well as you might guess from reading this far, he was not my favorite guy in the world, but he gets worse. His cock gets hard enuf to fuck which is again uncomfortable with his pricklyness in that area. and then he wants a blowjob. When he comes and of course I take it out of my mouth, he is complaining as he comes, “Why’d you stop????!” I did make a note of him number on my phone because I don’t want to see him again. Did you see the movie with Sean Penn and Susan Sarandon, Dead Man Walking? I loved that movie because she finally reached him and he understood what life was about. She gave him alot of time and energy and he respected her because she was a sister. If I saw him again it would be in that model but I don’t think my client has the capacity or desire to learn and grow in this lifetime.

Guest Blogger: my boyfriend speaketh

2009-05-08T19:28:00.000-07:00

I was annoyed by the response of Anonymous two posts ago when s/he commented that I wasn't accepting of my girlfriend's free spiritedness. Obviously you are not in love with a provider. I am and have been for close to three years. I appreciate my girlfriend's acceptance of people, I appreciate that she can do the work that she does and welcome men even if they are fat, deformed, or repulsive. She can see beauty in all people. I appreciate her tenfold, because I know her. Sometimes I face challenges because the woman I love writes that she let a guy spluey on her face. Imagine if your wife, girlfriend or boyfriend came home and told you that some stranger splueyed on her face. That's the face that I kiss, that I see first thing in the morning, and the last thing I see at night. In our relationship honesty is a component of the glue which holds us together. That's all folks.

BTW thanks T.O.

this and that

2009-05-04T19:45:00.000-07:00

My hard drive died on my laptop. Of course I had to learn the extremely painful way that I should have bought an external harddrive and backed up all my files. The mac store gave me the choice of getting my hard drive replaced for free and relinquishing it or getting data retrieval done at an estimated cost of $500 starting and then to fix my own hard drive. I wish I could have said give me my hard drive and a new computer but alas, I am not that rich. What is most difficult to lose is pictures and music. I am trying to be Zen about it. I lost a picture of my 80 year old client with his oxogen tubes in his nose. I had created a slideshow to glorify myself as a prostitute. I had downloaded the music, which was Ludicris' "I got ho's in different area codes" I had pictures of clients who had allowed me to photograph them including one who crossdressed. I had showed it to one other person, my male duo partner. He asked why I had made it. That's when I realized it was to glorify myself and my clients and what we did together even if I had a limited audience (myself). I wanted to show it to my therapist but he holds a boundary to see pictures of me naked. So I showed him a couple G- rated photos from the series. I am using this post to grieve the loss I feel of these valuable keepsakes.
I get alot of comments from "anonymous" so which one I am responding to is unknown. Two posts before this one ( titled "excuses"). I appreciated that Anonymous could see who I am as a person, a free spirit etc. Yet I have to argue with the comment. He (I imagine his gender to be male) said my boyfriend should realize and not feel hurt by my posts. I disagree. People should feel how they feel and be able to express it to those who they love and are close to. My reaction is to protect my boyfriend from his painful feelings. This is key when I am doing therapy. I try to get my clients to know what is his/hers and then I wonder if they can stand in what is true for them in the face of opposition from those who matter most. This ability is called differentiation and it can be done from a stance of compassion, instead of reactivity. ( an example of reactivity is "fuck you I'll do and say what I want and if you don't like it....")
Business is suddenly slowwwwww. I don't like to call fellow providers and ask how is business because if they say, "busy" I immediately swerve into a downward spiral of negativity. What I do is go thru my old emails and see if I can stroke some embers. But I am never desperate. I finally got Jerk to stop calling by having my boyfriend answer the phone when he called. A recent weekend caller would not give me any personal information about himself. He offered to meet me for coffee but that is frankly too much effort. I appreciate a man who understands that there was just a Craig's List killer and why I would have to take precautions in such an environment. I saw an outcall on saturday night at his hotel. His name was Middle Eastern and I immediately invented some stereotypes about him that turned out to be correct. He gracioulsy gave me his last name so I could call him back at the hotel guest line and make sure he was actually a guest. I was done in 20 minutes. I can go pick up my fixed computer now so au revoir.

Mommy, Mistress, Goddess, Woman

2009-05-01T17:09:00.000-07:00

I am dressed in white silky panties with a trim of pink lace and a white silk robe. I am waiting to enact the vision of the Goddess, my soon to arrive client wrote me in an email. He will be the sacrifice to the Goddess and I use him for my amusement and pleasure until he comes, which I make him wait and beg for. After he is killed, (that isn’t part of our session, but I mention it in the dialogue) like some female insects do after they mate with their male mate. This role, whether it is called Goddess or Mistress or Mommy, has certain similar qualities. I have been requested to play this part in different incarnations many times over the years, so from this vantage point, I see the similarities of archetypal qualities.
Foremost, heirarchically speaking, I have the power. My power comes from my feminine beauty and their desired inability to resist the sexual arousal they feel as a result. I have read a book by Michael Bader, “Arousal” where fantasies have been reduced to a formula to circumvent the experience of fear, shame and guilt. If this theory is true, then this scenario absolves the man of the guilt he feels for his arousal by putting him in the service of a woman whose appetite is similar and whose goal is to lord this weakness over him.
So right now I have the choice to 1. weed eat my long grass in the yard, 2. shop for dinner so I can eat before my friends art opening at 7, chill out and sit in the rare occasion of sun (no I would feel guilty) or write a blog post. The choice is shop for food and hopefully my memory of the "old fart" who farted while he ate my pussy and the appreciative client who brought me a gift for my soon to be arriving grandbaby, and the way I see a middle aged version of myself when I look in the mirror will be fresh by the time I have time to sit again. meanwhile I give you a not edited to perfection blog I have been thinking about. perhaps it is half baked. I would enjoy comment from personal experience if this resonates with you. I find this an interesting phenomenon.....

The Goddess taunts him, knowing and exploiting his weakness which is visibly manifested by his hard cock. His cock symbolizing extreme desire which is stronger than his usual will, compels him to obey, submit, do unspeakable acts because if he is a good obedient boy, he will be rewarded with the gifts that the Goddess holds. The ability to give him a pleasurable orgasm. She also wants his orgasm and will make him beg for it and often have him injest the ejaculate as a further show of his devotion and obedience.
Being a whore is being able to turn on my sexuality or facsimile at their whim. When they decide, to email, call or show up, they want to be seduced. They enjoy that I lure them. They crave being lured. I wake up today ready to play the Goddess and at night I will become the cruel cuckholding Mistress and in between these performances, stroke the fires of potentially new suitors by gently reeling them toward me. My bait... the ad, pictures, suggestive emails and phone conversations. More bait...the reviews. They bite and I got to reel them to my lair before they wiggle off the hook. Some try to masturbate over the phone, but I don’t let them. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, I’m just not selling that niche.
Being a therapist on the other hand doesn’t require me to turn on compassion, I always have that program running, along with curiosity and acceptance. It is about turning off and just being present in the moment. Willing and able to imagine the strength of their feelings, yet separate enough to not be distracted by content and look from a wide angle lens. Asking gently if it is possible to reassemble the pieces of the puzzle in a more satisfactory way. This is done by advance appointment not at their moment of confusion (unless it is the crisis clinic) I aim to sound professionally competent over the phone and when I sit down for session, I assume the mental position of knowledge and authority. Sex seekers are easier to satisfy because they have a concrete and defined want. Therapy people want to change so their feelings will be different. the change can be beliefs, actions, patterns. Change takes a heavy duty bulldozer.

the excuse(s)

2009-04-27T17:07:00.000-07:00

I know I haven't been posting and I enjoyed my last set of comments. even the one from the guy who tried to correlate me with Jesus. I think he is speaking about the shadow which some religions try to unsuccessfully split off instead of embrace. It is partly a level of energy I don't have right now. To write a post and edit it into something I consider worthy, probably takes an hour and I chose to go to sleep, read or even watch TV (In Treatment shows therapy in action) I think of things to tell you and then by the time I have time to sit down, I forget. Actually I have two posts written but not edited. I might work on and post soon. A colleague in the biz came across my blog recently and asked me discreetly if I had a blog. She correctly guessed me which is both thrilling and scary. I worry that the portraits I paint might be recognizable by the subjects who could stumble here inadvertantly. Some people use their blog to promote business which this one isn't. I am surprised that I get comments from people wishing to be able to get together with me. I would guess that orgasm faking would be a deterrant. Sometimes what I write here, my boyfriend reads and lets just say he isn't thrilled by his revelation. So this blend of paranoia is what keeps me silent as well. Some of my clients have some type of fame or notoriety that I don't want to reveal. etc etc the secrets one needs to hold for the sake of ethical considerations. I saw Elliot Spitzer is on the cover of Newsweek renouncing his escapades. I briefly read the article while I was in line at the supermarket checkout. He said since he has fallen as far down as anyone can fall, he doesn't have to worry about his image anymore. Therefore he takes his fluffly, white, foo foo dog for walks now when previously he didn't want his image to include that dog. I found that comment most memorable. Other breaking news. Oprah has a visiting sex therapist on her show, Laura Berman who recently encouraged moms to buy their teenage daughters sex toys. Her reasoning was, Let them fall in love with the one who is able to give them pleasure (theirself) instead of a boy who could give them that pleasure and break their heart. Mothers were freaking out imagining the (sic) embarrassing conversations they would have to engage in about masturbation with their teenage daughters. Oprah backed Berman in her position and they practiced coaching the parents thru difficult conversations.
Business is temporarily slow and I don't know what to do about that. The answer is adapt but I feel frozen. Otherwise.... hope to transact with y'alls again soon.

did I or didn't I?

2009-03-27T21:03:00.000-07:00

I had two hours of therapy in the morning then a scheduled sex work client who cancelled. Two others called to take his slot. I picked the easier one. He is so safe that I can't suck his dick and I can't fuck him either so he just wants a handjob and usually the game is that I try to make him eat his come at the end (as per his request) He has never done it BTW. Also he only takes half an hour to accomplish this. As I changed I was reminded of the cartoon Underdog, the protagonist is a shoeshine boy who changes his costume and attitude and becomes Underdog, the superhero. That's how I felt as I changed into lacy lingerie and a short tight black dress over it. His script was alittle different today he wanted to come on my face and maybe watch me come. I armed him with a dildo to use on me and I got my vibrator to accompany. I told him my fantasy was that 5 guys were standing around me waiting to have me suck them off and swallow their come. That when when I realized that our fantasies were similar which I remarked on. Later he asked me, “So did you really have an orgasm or did you fake it?” Like I would admit it if I faked it. I said,”It was real!” What do you think did I lie or not? I had two more hours of therapy in the afternoon.

the march of time

2009-03-25T23:50:00.000-07:00

The paradoxical challenge of this business is ultimately the simultaneous creating of an atmosphere of spontaneity and sensuality while making sure that the goal of orgasm is reached within a designated time frame. The job is be an accomplice to escape, relax and sexually mutually enjoy each other. True enjoyment has an element of spontaneity, it must seem like an effortless going with the flow. This includes conversation and being present, meanwhile keeping the activities at a pace that fits the time framework. Many men pay for an hour but attempt to stay longer. Maybe they think the price is unlimited like a buffet. or maybe they are trying to prove that she likes me special or maybe they are just oblivious. Therefore it is up to me, to hold the boundary. I am definately too nice when it comes to this. Monday I had 4 scheduled appointments. First I had a man pay me for two hours of taking pictures (at a discounted rate to actual flesh to flesh contact. and it took him an half an hour on each side to set up (that was free). I really had to leave at 4:30 to get my dog and be back by 5. I felt bad like I was rushing him out the door. The 5 o’clock guy had an agenda of lets tease and deny each other orally until we burst with huge orgasms. That takes alot of time but of course he paid for an hour. I figured I could give him 15 minutes extra before I’d have to have him out so I could welcome in the 6:30. His cock was not getting hard and he also added to the agenda, lets fuck and lets play with toys. At 6, he isn’t close to being done so I inform him he had 15 minutes left. He was shocked that time had flown so fast and the constriction of time placed a death sentence on his erection. I felt bad and offered him a session at half price which is a rip off to me cause I felt guilty. If I was reading this by someone else I would lecture them that it isn’t their fault. It is his fault for not buying two hours, Intellectually I know how I am wrong. but obviously not emotionally. The next guy was fine and finished ahead of time because he thought he could have 2 shots in an hour but one knocked him out. He left on time and then I had to eat and walk my dog before the next one at 9:30. He was from out of town and took a taxi to my place. Of course he wanted to spend time talking and seducing and not in action, but I moved him towards the necessary paces, oral sex, caressing, reciprocating etc. His cock was mostly hard the whole time except when I figured I would ride him as the climax of the events. It got soft and what a shame, it had a nice shape. The saying: “it is no use beating a dead horse” applies to dicks. Once they transgress their “responsibility” to be erect they are in worrying and contemplation mode of their transgression so nothing can improve. “Let’s take a break.” I said glancing at the clock and noting that the hour was almost up. We went into the kitchen and he picked up a book I have on the shelves entitled Photo Sex edited by David Steinberg. The pictures are not your typical pornoesque poses or subjects. He was enjoying perusing the book and suddenly I remembered a memory he had told me in the beginning of the session of a crowded subway ride. An attractive woman had rubbed her ass up against his cock in the middle of the crowd and how hot he gets when he thinks about that. I decided the window could be his semi public arena and started stroking his cock and telling a story of the people who were watching him in the house next door. It worked. The cock rose, It spewed its juices, and then I drove him back to his hotel because if I waited for him to call a taxi it would have taken longer.

Lets talk about lies

2009-03-11T22:14:00.000-07:00

Therapy today was conversations about Lies and Fear. Sex work was about (his) pleasure and discovery. Why did I enjoy therapy more? I feel more effective as a pleasurer and sex educator. The first client wants to forgive and trust her spouse after he lied to her and engaged in other sexual relationships. The second client lied to his wife because he knew he would get in trouble even though he was not persueing any relationship for giving a woman co-worker a ride home from work. He didn't lie, but he didn't volunteer the information. She got angry when she asked why he was arriving home later from work and said if he didn't stop doing it she would leave him. Is the space we are allowed to express ourselves in, too confining. What does the word allowed mean? Who allows what in a relationship? When activities are not allowed, then someone lies. Faced with the decision to give up theirself or their relationship, they choose to give up their integrity. I assume here that lying does not feel like integrity to most people. Our first lies were taught to us by our parents when they told us "Everything's fine." when we knew in our gut that it wasn't. When they told us things like, "boys don't cry" or "big girls don't need to sleep with the light on" when the actual data proved to the contrary. Media feeds us daily lies, disguised as fact that eventually become imbedded in our belief systems. We might believe our own lies- we are so clever and hate to feel internal dissonance.
I went to amazon and looked up books about recovering from Affairs. Many of them had excerpts that I read. There seems to be alot of this activity going on. in fact right in our own blogosphere.
My intention here is not to be judgmental about liars. it is to explore the phenomenon.
Sex work is a lie in itself but I think it is one both parties are complicit with. Obviously I don't just want to have sex with whoever shows up. I am doing it in trade for a fee that requires me do my best to appear that I want it. I enjoy my work because I truly enjoy people. Their bodies and passion are what spurs them to share themselves with me. They want connection and sex seems the simplest way to get the facsimile of that feeling. I don't know if that is universally true but it is tonight.
I came on here to say I was tired and how I thought I had 3 today then the second one cancelled and the third one tried to show up 40 minutes late (but I was long gone). I have 2 tomorrow and one friday. For me it is a weekly quota to chase and fill.
Back to lies. I have some friends who traveled to Hawaii and had a working vacation. That sounds pretty glamorous to me. When I told my boyfriend he said, "Do you want to do that?" and I said, "Maybe." The answer was yes, but I wasn't ready to start planning and might never be. Maybe sounded more tenative than yes. I felt good that I didn't totally lie, cause I said it sounded fun. That upset him for reasons I forgot to inquire about because I was busy being defensive and justifying myself. So perhaps it is safe to say that lying gets in the way of intimacy, because what is intimacy except sharing one's true experience moment to moment with another who hears it.
Blame is another phenomenon I would like to tirade about but alas, lucky y'alls I am tired

easy money

2009-03-10T00:22:00.001-07:00

Men work hard. They travel on airplanes, have tons of meetings, entertain clients or employees at night and then get up early to make their first morning appointment. These men deserve a little nooky to get them through the hellish pace they move. I had such a client this evening and he called me at around 10:30 as he was leaving the most expensive restaurant in town to meet him at his name brand hotel in half an hour. I had spoken with him earlier in the day so I was expecting this late night tryst. I washed my pussy, got dressed in black (I might post a picture) business woman style and drove downtown. I arrived exactly on time as he was finishing peeing. He proceeded to floss his teeth. Then he showed me a menu of the place he ate dinner. He was very hyper and remembered to place a wake up call before we got started for 5:30 the next morning. We undressed and he folded his clothes and made everything neat pulling down the sheets of the bed. I put out my bottles and containers and toys on the night table in easy reach for whatever the occasion called for. He wanted to be “pampered” I for some reason inwardly cringe when I hear that word. I sucked his dick which was on the large side. He pulled my hair up and watched. Of course I couldn’t take the whole thing but he tried to see if I could. That part was not enjoyable. I got him to let me do prostate massage on him. He was at first going to decline but since he never had it I thought it would be wise for him to find out if he had another erogenous zone. I told him he was a man that was always in control and that this would be an opportunity to release that role. “You are very perceptive.” he responded. He also insisted to put a towel on the bed, so it wouldn’t get messy. The first man to ever think of that. I applauded his fastiduousness. I invited him to fuck me and he didn’t want me to be loud. He came in under 5 minutes apologizing. I said, “Why? I’m thrilled.” I left the room 30 minutes after I entered, happy that I could return to my dog. As I got dressed he tidied up all evidence including wiping a spill of lube off the end table with toilet paper. I told him to leave something for the maids to wonder about.

Ole in spanish what they say during bullfights or flamenco dances

2009-03-03T00:18:00.000-08:00

I feel so great! Some of my last posts were working through anger. I felt I received unfair treatment and rejection from my supervisor. That therapy session I wrote about in my last post seemed to connect me with past anger that I had been repressing and when I let go of the energy it took to hold that back and also when I let out my anger directly to my X supervisor in an email, other psychic energy was freed up. It is time to get on with the business of my life, which is to celebrate and facilitate sexual expression and eroticism (among other things) My personal agenda is to learn and grow and sexuality is a prominent path on that journey. Over the weekend I recalled joyous memories of myself 25 years ago. Embedded in those experiences, I recognize my spirit that was beaming then and is still beaming now. I delight in people and their diversity. That isn’t only about race or culture. It is about the unique fingerprint that shows up in all aspects of people. As no two snowflakes are alike such is the essence and beauty of people.
The rejection by the supervisor is just a rejection by mainstream culture. It is really expectable and I am thankful to better adjust my path to not go due north. I must Go My Own Way. (the Stevie Nicks song) and I won’t be alone. There are many alternative healers in this world with whom I can find community. I believe in myself. That has been missing for years. I always believed I could give men sexual satisfaction, because I saw daily proof of that. But I want to give people more; tools to expand, space to grow and challenges that they didn’t imagine to experiment with.
Today I had a client who wrote me this email tonight:
You are much better than my clinical therapist! I truly enjoyed our encounter today! Thank you for being just you! You have helped me to straighten out my life, realize where I am in life and where I want to go. You will always be my best provider - somehow 'provider' doesn't say it all, but for now - thank you again.

I went to consultation group and spoke more than usual. I volunteered to write an article and teach a class. I am ready to put my badass self out there and risk it. I also put an offering on the local review board which I am sure will bring me only good returns. Last month I saw a couple for therapy. They entered my office considering divorce and left figuring out how they could live together. I was the catalyst in that shift. I remember helping my parents talk when I was a kid and they were giving each other the silent treatment which I would now label stonewalling. Now to find the time to do all that I want to get done. The days fly by so fast.....

Guts Fables

2009-02-25T22:50:00.000-08:00

I like being interviewed about sex work because I am the expert. My ultimate dream is to be on Oprah. In my fantasy, she is fascinated by the diversity of sexual interests I deal with and my ability to understand and fulfill each one. I met a woman at a sex education and therapy conference. We were introduced by a mutual friend. She is writing a dissertation on stigma experienced by sex workers. I enjoyed our time answering her questions. The narrow focus of stigma gave me a window into my experience in that realm. I never had grouped those experiences before in such a way. She wrote a paper and is expecting it to be published. I introduce her to other sex workers because she is looking for 3-5 more to interview. This is called qualitative research. Recently I got an email from a young sounding woman working on her bachelors degree in sociology. She wants to know how my job impacts my personal relationships with friends and family. I will try to be interviewed by her tomorrow. Another time a friend knew a friend who had to interview people as homework practice in asking questions. I used the time to talk about sex work and my conflicted feelings about how I was perceived by others.
I went to therapy as is my habit every two weeks. My therapist is doing a technique called Lifespan Integration with me. I don’t feel like explaining the theory behind that but google it if you are interested. I told him about being fired by my supervisor. There is another part to that story that she told my ex supervisor “accidentally” and so confidentiality (the golden rule of therapeutic encounters) was violated. I realized I disassociate from anger and then it takes a couple days for me to realize the feeling of anger, which I have now embraced. My therapist asked me to feel the feeling in my body of when I learned that she had broken my trust. He said just sit with that feeling and see if another similar experience arises with that same feeling. I sat and waited. Suddenly this came up. I was raped when I was 18. I was asleep in the back of a car and woke up with this big black man on top of me. I was hitch-hiking to the Mardi Gras from New York to N’Orleans. In fact it was this time of year. I mention his race for this reason: When the car with two black, male drivers, stopped to pick up my friend and I, I had a feeling that I should not go in. I dismissed my intuition because I suspected myself of racism and I did not want to act on racist feelings. So I ignored my self. He tricked my friend out of the car while I was sleeping under pretenses that he had a flat tire and could she hold the flashlight for him. He left her on the side of the road and drove off with me. I wake up and this guy is saying, “Give me some pussy.” No Im not giving you pussy. I disassociate here because I only remember that he took it. He didn’t hurt me, I didn’t feel him and I remember telling him not to ejaculate inside me but he did. It was quick, like 3 minutes or less. Then he came back to his senses and he apologized to me. “I’m sorry. I wish I had driven you to N’Orleans and then maybe you would have given me the pussy.” I did appreciate his remorse and I didn’t allow myself to feel anger. I said something to the effect of “You have been socialized to be a rapist by the gender inequalities in this culture.” I was fresh out of a college class in  Gender studies so I actually believed this. I asked him to take me to the train station so I could go back to NY and get away from him. He did. I went home, took a shower, called my friend and found out what had transpired. I cried probably for 5 minutes or less. My idea was, “You will not fuck me anymore than you already did. I will not be affected emotionally by you or what you did to me.” I remember at the time thinking I could be a rape counselor because I had handled it so well. NOT. Denial is not the best method for dealing with feelings. So what is the point? I am not sure. When I feel violated I disassociate because it is too painful to be violated by somebody I trusted. Another point is trust your gut. I had some weird feelings about my supervisor before this incident. My antenae would prick up when she said certain things and I wondered if she was clear enough in herself. Yet, I didn’t want to distrust her either because she is an authority figure and she is nice to me. It is hard to hold positive and negative emotions simultaneously.
New subject: A brag. Tonight I felt like shopping, but not spending money. So I went to the Mac makeup store and for every 5 empty containers that you recycle you get a free item so I got a free lip gloss and eyeshadow. Then I went to a clothes store and found a dress that was $250 marked down to $59 and then because some sewing needed to be done to it she took 40% off and I got it for $39!!!
New subject: last week a condom broke. I am convinced the man didn’t know when this happened because he was so freaked out by the discovery. I of course was more freaked out than him. I didn’t think he had HIV but I would have to disclose to my boyfriend because I would have to go get tested in the morning first thing and then I would have to wait for the results till we could have sex again. But all is well. I am STD free and my boyfriend handled it really well and the guy was relieved. This is one of the major hassles of my work and of sex in general. Condoms break. Rarely but... once every two years. The moral of this story is again, listen to your gut. I thought I needed more lube, but it didn’t hurt so I figured not to interrupt his stride because he seemed to be hitting it. Use lube! and if you think you have some reason to interrupt, then do. The gut knows what lurks in the hearts of humans.

My devious devices

2009-02-20T19:09:00.000-08:00

What is pissing me off currently is some people’s projections about prostitution i.e. my X supervisor and her ilk and the media including Hollywood. but am I in the mood to rise my blood pressure writing about things that have repeated in my brain a million times? Perhaps not. I find my period and how I try to hide it from my clients more interesting. I have written about this before. (I don’t feel like going back and connecting to the link) I would like to take a couple days off when it is that time of the month. However my economic needs dictate otherwise, so I buy Instead. They are a clever disposable device constructed much like a diaphram. I insert in my pussy, it covers the cervix and viola- the blood is blocked. However on the heaviest day, blood has been known to seep through. So I have this guy who has given me vague ideas about his fantasy. when I am given a more detailed script,including examples of dialog, I can play my role better as the protagonist. He did tell me midway through to say to him, “I am making you mine.” I repeated that line alot. This fantasy is quite common, and I am coming to an new understanding of it. It involves appreciating him in his sexuality in an almost motherly way but kinda a mother/ slut combo. Actually as I wrote that I wondered if they are integrating the madonna/ whore schism that is part of Mother Culture (who has read Ismael?) So I am riding his cock, repeating my line, trying to keep it sounding fresh when I look down at the base of his cock covered with blood. Luckily his eyes are closed and I wipe it with my hand. Also luckily my sheet is flowered print and red is part of the color scheme. I depart my attention from my client to wondering if I have time to clean myself, change my Instead and return. That would be too interruptive and I can’t think of a lie to cover it with so I dismount, grab the bloody condom, off him throw a towel around his cock and go wash my hands and pussy and get a washcloth to wash his cock. Now I can be present with him again but I decide to use my hand and mouth instead of my pussy to extract his seed that way.
Blood story # 2. I have the Instead in. It is my third day of cycle so I am not worried about the overflow. The client is very excited to touch me everywhere constantly and I am annoyed but trying to go with his flow and appreciate his enthusiam, The difficult balance. He keeps trying to put his finger inside me but I find different excuses. Finally I decide to tell him I have an Instead inside me. I bring out the package of Instead and unwrap a new one and show him, “this is inside me so you will feel it.” I didn’t tell him why it is there and amazingly enough, he didn’t ask. I was happy with that outcome.
Poo story: I put a slim, vibrating toy in my clients butthole covered with a latex glove. When I took it out it was covered in poo. YUC! I turned the glove inside out and threw it away before he could see and feel embarrassed. He soon announced he had to go to the bathroom.
This is the blog of bodily functions. I recall writing that before. Perhaps I have nothing new to say.

written on Valentines Day

2009-02-16T23:16:00.000-08:00

Tonight I celebrated Love with my boyfriend. At 11 pm, I suddenly got an idea to slow dance with him to Reasons by Earth Wind and Fire. Thanks to i tunes, I had it downloaded. I told him to go in our room and light the candles and not get undressed. I brought in my computer and pressed play. I went up to him and asked him to dance. This song takes me back to parties in 7th and 8th grade where I/we slow danced with boys to this song. Their hard dicks would poke at us in our corresponding area thru our layers of clothing. Therefore we weren’t doing anything like sex, just dancing. Sex meant.... actual touching on purpose like 2nd and 3rd base. I wanted my boyfriend to play the role of the 8th grade boy who can get turned on by the wind blowing, who is enjoying rubbing his erect cock on me and is thrilled that I’m allowing it. We think in connected silence “That’s a big boner! what is in there?!” and he wonders, what? maybe she’d let me do more. He lets his hands, previously resting in the small of my back, creep down lower as ass cheeks become a new territory to edge towards. I told my boyfriend that part of his role. He laughed and asked me if I liked cheese. That was his joke for the evening (ya had to be there) I wanted him to play his role but he couldn’t shift as quick as I could into a unknown territory. He understood my desire and later asked me more about it and said He would attempt to role play that with me in the future. I have discovered that what turns me on is tension, the unknown that is bubbling beneath the surface. seduction slow and steady each following a step after the other.
My next great idea was to sing kareoke and take turns. He felt shy, so I got to perform my whole repetoire of songs from Don’t Cry for Me Argentina. to I Will Survive by Gloria Gaynor. He enjoys watching me and I feel loved. I have never been with a person who feels so good. Earlier we watched parts of two love movies that were on TV: Pretty Woman (I took notes on the dialog and will write about that later) and Heartbreak Kid. We ate cold homemade spaghetti sauce out of the container for dinner with a bottle of wine. We walked the dog at the lake and he told me about the time his dog and him almost drowned on a hike together. Did we have sex? Yes in the early afternoon before we left for our afternoon excursion. Did we have orgasms. Yes. It was one where I felt myself pull back from a point where control seemed impossible. Did we tell each other how lucky we were to find each other? People who have been reading this blog from the beginning know I did not feel like this with my last boyfriend. I never even thought this feeling was possible. Its amazing that love can hit you after 40 in a new incarnation that makes all the older versions obsolete. I am so glad I am with someone who is so open, accepting, loving, and enjoying of me. I didn’t even really believe in love until now.

headlines from my brain

2009-02-12T23:21:00.000-08:00

I wrote this a week ago but didn't post it. I appreciate all the comments on my last post and will respond to them in the future.
This week is busy! I turn away business and I am working alot! and I can’t wait to take the weekend off. It is nice being able to decide when my day off is. But when there is no business.... its less nice. Then I feel guilty and part of me thinks, “grab it while you can before everyone loses their jobs.” another part responds, “Don’t hold a scarcity mentality, have a prosperity mentality.”
- I was a therapist first thing in the morning for a couple who were at first so in love and now they can only fight. I love working with couples, but I am not sure I am skilled. I read an article at www.holdmetight.net last night. I tried to use the principles of sharing emotions to frame today’s session. Then I heard a news story on NPR that seemed to reflect the same thing, I was trying to get my couples to grasp. It was about Iran leaders who said if America would stop having a “I can tell you what to do” attitude all the solutions would be easier to work out. If they treated Iran with respect. The responding news anchor was incredulous. Do you believe them? They asked intellectual commentators. I am saying like Duh! its fucking obvious. I think Obama is respectful and will lead us to win back the world’s love and cooperation.
-I got this idea for a horror movie today. A provider is psycho but usually she holds it together. She believes one of her clients who always talks romantic to her and decides to keep him prisoner with her in love to bring them both the happiness she believe he says it would give him. the horror is she overloads him with sex and kink because she thinks that is the glue that brings them together.
-A woman is selling her virginity at the bunny ranch website. Her highest bid is 3.8 million. http://www.alternet.org/sex/123185/why_i%27m_selling_my_virginity/ I wrote her an email. I like to connect with people I would never meet online. She wants to be a marriage and family therapist in the future and I am worried that this high profile prostitution could blemish her future reputation because ....I know.
-I have a new idea. Soft cocks also should be caressed. They don’t receive much validation. I think they should get some loving. I have been doing this and explaining my motivation to my clients.
-I made an observation today to one of my clients from a strict religious background. I said as he was repeating “Oh God! My sweet Lord! Oh my God” “I think sex might be one of the ways people get closer to God because while they are having it they are often talking to him (or her or it).”
I did a duo today with a lovely woman. She was so girly. What does that mean? soft skin, curvy, submissive, soft sighs and moans, She is what I imagine a GFE is like (the so called much sought after girlfriend experience) Her pussy was beautiful, like a tropical flower. I did a duo the other day with my gay provider friend. I thought he was very strong, yet nurturing. He was proud of how well the client could accept large and fat dildos in his ass because he had learned to relax. Even though he has an actual cock, he prefers to use dildos. We double teamed the guy. I have a fastiduous side and I believe that we must be conscious of bacteria and where it goes. There was too much ass fluids floating around for my comfort. In fact when my friend pulled the condom off his dildo, it snapped and I got splashed with.... I would call it a mix of ass/lube juice. I was not pleased. My friend laughed and said he can’t believe I am able to do my job.
I have 3 tomorrow and one therapy. I need to sleep.

Rage against the machine

2009-02-02T23:46:00.000-08:00

I am feeling persecuted. As you know if you read my blog I am a hooker, prostitute, courtesan, sharer of intimacy and I am on the road to becoming a therapist, sharer of clothed intimacies of the mind and heart. I graduated with my masters degree and have been working toward licensure (which is a certain huge number of hours obtained while under supervision of a certified supervisor) My first supervisor I lied to about my extracirricular employment because I felt she would not accept me otherwise.When I recently stopped working with her, I continued supervision for the last year with another person who I was open and honest about my situation. The last time I attended supervision, she revealed in the last half hour the news that she was unable to work with me any longer because it was not in her integrity to have to keep secrets which she had to do while I was her client. I am pissed. I didn’t see this coming. She said she had consulted with some authority who advised her that I was doing something illegal but not unethical. An interesting distinction. There is a person who used to be my teacher who I will ask to be my new supervisor. This is my second rejection for supervision because of my other job. One person I called just said flat out no. They will supervise an ex-prostitute, but to get to that level of income.... is beyond my comprehension at this time. I remember being on welfare when my son was 2 and then taking a class offered by the state of how to find a job. These classes are probably extinct by now. For a week they groomed us in how to dress and how to answer interview questions. We rehearsed how to respond to the question of job history, because we didn’t have a current resume. The crucial answer was NOT! “I am on welfare and hoping to get a job so I can not be on welfare” The correct lie was, “I’ve had increased personal responsibility at home.” a very vague answer. On my first interview as a costume seamstress for a crappy $6 an hour, I found the lie too difficult to spit out and told them the truth. I was not hired. The hypocrisy in society is revolting! How many people complain about lazy welfare moms who don’t try to work and of course they have no idea of the difficulty involved in being that person and getting a job. The same goes for people with a record. they can’t get a place to rent or a job so what are they left as choices? I get a masters degree and work my ass off to get to a level where I can be legal and “respectable” and not offend people by telling them the truth about my employment and yet I am not allowed to get there. This is my first response- anger at a system that is so vast and invisible “in the air that we breath” that I cannot address it.
Lets suppose by some miracle, money is not the issue anymore and I can choose what I want to do and pay my bills and I do legal clothed work and help people find a better way to experience their life. What if I gave workshops or classes in sexual communication, mindfulness during sex or losing inhibitions. I just picked these topics because I am good at them and can imagine others benefiting from exposure to these ideas. How do I market myself? “From my years of experience being sexual with others..... “ I just came up with that one which is neither a lie or a complete truth. I just want to be full, complete and accepted, not even without reservations. Bring your reservations, doubts, questions and complaints but allow me to co-exist with the rest of the legal world. I am not an outcast. I am among you. I am part of the fabric that holds this bullshit together.
Obviously I am digressing into a rant and that’s okay, but I am done.

seeping in

2009-02-02T23:45:00.000-08:00

My day started at 5:45 when I woke up to take my boyfriend to the airport. On the way home I walked my dog on a scenic route. Then I got ready for my 9:45 appointment including my new habit of 10 minutes a day of silent mindfulness meditation (at the suggestion my therapist). I had seen this man before and this would be our second time. I remembered some things about what he enjoyed. This time he looked cuter and smiling when he arrived, not as nervous as the first time. When we got in my space, I knelt to untie his shoes. I don’t know if I felt his guilt or assumed it because for a lot of people being served in a such an obvious way makes them uncomfortable. I asked if he felt guilty for me kneeling at his feet and he replied, “yes”. “Good!” I responded. “Why?” he asked. “That you notice it, and that you are getting used to it.” He laughed and told me that how scary it was to remove his clothes for the first time in front of a stranger. I always forget the body hangups that most of the world has and I thanked him for reminding me. I thought I noticed a more therapeutic persona is seeping into my sex work. somebody who is noticing and commenting on the process instead of just doing it.
He took a shower returning clean and naked. I asked him to lay down on his back and I got on top of him kissing his neck, his earlobe and moving down to his nipples. I never ignore a man’s nipples. I dragged my hair, still damp from my shower, down his belly and over his thighs. His cock awaited me erect and pointing upwards. I licked his balls first moving slowly and gently up the length of his shaft. Usually I don’t go into as much detail about myself. I am feeling like a penthouse forum excerpt and self conscious. He likes to prolong things and I like that too, so that was my intention. the journey as they (they?) say, not the destination. To entice but not fall over the edge. I slathered his area with silicon lube. I am a lube connoisseur. I have 3 kinds for all the different areas. ass, pussy and cock. Silicon does not mix with latex. I am revving him up slowly and with different sensations, using my nails, mouth, fingers, breast etc. I begin the prostate exploration also slowly, making him want it before he gets what he wants. I am doing unto others as I would have done unto me. This proceeds for a while before I decide to mount him in the direction that allows me to keep my finger inside him. I continue that until my stomach muscles are tired and then I dismount, put a glove covered slim vibrating toy in his butt and change direction. I ride myself to an orgasm and his face looks like he accompanied me but I am not sure, so I ask. Not. I figure its time for doggie. Why did I say that? I hate the term “doggie”. I prefer “from behind”. I would say the majority of guys come easiest in that position, but there are exceptions. He comes and we have like 20 minutes left so I massaged him. We talked about the recent New York Times Article http://www.iht.com/articles/2009/01/23/healthscience/25desiret.php about what women want. It’s ten pages, but worth reading. Conversations that include sociology, psychology and anthropology especially all mixed together are my favorite intellectual stimulant. I ask if he wants to try for another orgasm and he declines saying he has to get back to work. I say that I want to appreciate his soft cock for a moment because soft cocks are not treated with the same enthusiasm as hard ones. I took it in my mouth for a minute. It felt nice and squishy and definately more manageable. It began to expand. He giggled and told me I was full of surprises.
Next I was Dr. Melphi. I just say her name to indicate it is time to switch hats and become a therapist. I like the fitted suits that she wore with stockings in Sopranos and the charge between her and Tony. But I don’t aspire to that situation. My client is not a mafioso. He is a married man who first came for help to rid his mind of his sexual fantasies, which he deems contradictory to his marital status. The point of telling you this is I feel like a better therapist lately since I quit working for an agency where I was scared of my boss and scared she would find out about my double life. I didn’t like the environment of the office and now I have my own space. I have felt like I am getting somewhere with my clients in a different way than I felt when I worked for her. This makes me happy because I really love offering people an opening where they can see change is possible. A path different than the one that holds limiting beliefs that keeps them stuck. I try to facilitate this using my body or my mind or both. The closer I move to that direction the more satisfied I feel. And I feel movement.

What the Bleep?

2009-01-22T22:04:00.000-08:00

Business has been slow as it is around the country. It is better to enjoy my life and free time than to spend it worrying. I was acheiving that ideal today and proud of myself. My phone didn't ring, My email was empty. I woke up late, had a lovely fuck with my boyfriend and did my morning routine which now includes 10 minutes of meditation as my therapist strongly recommended. I went to yoga which was wonderful to spend 90 minutes with my body, paying attention to it and my breath. I bought tomato bisque soup for lunch at the supermarket and then started putting together some tax information for my accountant. I had intended to have a 4 and a 6 appointment today. I got the idea to intend my day from the movie "What the bleep do we know" It was about quantum physics and the energy of thought and intention. The phone rang at 4, a repeat guy who wanted to see me in an hour. I got ready to mobilize. He is a nice guy about my age who usually comes in 15 minutes and then runs away. I told him I was going to keep him for an hour and then gave him a half and hour massage to start. He enjoyed that and when I asked him to turn over his cock was hard. I told him I was going to make it last as long as possible and his feedback on how to help me achieve that was welcome. I licked him gently and slowly. I did not concentrate on the most sensitive areas but glossed over them and touched them with less pressure than they wanted. He must be impatient because after 15 minutes he sat up and began playing with my pussy. It is like the last day of my period so I had a blood blocking device in there and did not want his inquiring fingers to find it. I had to jump the gun quicker than I intended to make sure he wouldn't start exploring. I put a condom on him and began to ride him very slowly, slow enough to not push him over the edge. Why didn't he want to stay there? He got on top of me and thrusted to orgasm in a couple of seconds and then got out as soon as he could. I checked the clock and I had managed to keep him 50 out of his 60 minutes. I got my cell phone which I put on silent while I have company and saw a call from a vaguely familiar number. No VM so I texted him to call me back. He did and it was somebody I have known for 10 years. I didn't recognize his voice but I remembered his name. He said he would visit as soon as he took a shower and drove. He came over and things progressed as predicted. We undress, I let him go down on me and fake an orgasm. I go down on him and then we fuck and then he comes. He likes to tell me stories of his domestic travels. They are not very exciting, but I have the feeling I am the only one who hears them. I respond as though they are very interesting because he is a nice guy and I want him to feel validated. Then I took me and my dog to the store, bought us dinner and made it at home. I told you how I label people in my phone like Jerk, Don't Book, Time Waster, Ass etc. Time Waster called and I didn't answer. He left a message and I didn't call him back. I am happy that I do not compromise myself to spend my time with people who don't deserve me. I feel good. I also got a call from a new therapy client who was referred. Life is good.

identities

2009-01-21T20:15:00.000-08:00

I half read a lot of books and then I lend them to others, so now when I wish I could quote verbatim from Stephen Levine's "Who Dies?" I will do the best from memory. The book is about when people acquire a debilitating illness that takes away their functioning little by little, they are left with a new version of theirself. Levine asks us to examine who is this core self, who isn't able to serve anymore and maybe needs assistance from others to survive. Who is this self who cannot produce, cannot take care of others, cannot do or read or write or earn as they once were but still exists wholly intact in spirit? That question struck me and I began to notice all the ways I value myself in relation to what I do. I am someone who provides satisfying sexual experiences for others. Therefore that makes me sexy and desirable. It also gives me status as an outlaw; living outside the bounds of what is considered acceptable by the mainstream. I used to be a go-go dancer, also an outsider position that others project desirability and unattainable beauty and mystique. I am currently a girlfriend and my boyfriend says I am so beautiful and he is very excited by my form and how I delight him. I mount my status as a human on my exterior facade which is a fragile shelf. I was recently a student, able to claim exemption from service to the community until I was prepared by learning. This degree gave me the credibility to work as a therapist. My expanded goal is to help others find a road to freedom. Freedom = happiness. I feel discomfort in this powerful role because I am in the role of helper and leader, leaving them to be grateful for my caring and concern. I was a single parent and for 18 years, I had to have the refrigerator stocked and be available when he needed an ear and drive him to activities that would enrich him as a becoming individual. I worried if I was developing his self esteem in a way that would prepare him to interface with the rest of the masses. Tonight I sit at home with my dog. My boyfriend is busy being a parent. My phone doesn't ring beckoning me to work because I will blame it on the recession. My son lives his own life. Nobody needs me or wants me. I have websites to write and ads to proclaim that I can offer such and such to so and so. Do I want to do this or am I obligated by the fact that I paid for an education? Am I scared to proclaim and assume a new level of professionalism and just want to sink into what I know and am sure of? In a past blog, I talked about presenting at a conference of sexuality professionals about what was being bought and sold in the realm of Paid Sexual Encounters. I am feeling the urge to do this again, but I suspect myself of reacting from a place of fear . Fear to take a new form. Am I comfortable in the role of a marginalized sexpert instead of trying to find a place among the regular and stand out in a way I don't yet know what would look like? What if something happened that took away my physical beauty? Could I survive? During my internship I was the therapist of an older woman, who lived in an assisted living facility. Her only indulged vanity was getting her nails done weekly and they were gorgeous. One day I noticed a black and white photo of a movie star gorgeous woman. It was her when she was young. I commented and she concurred that the transition she was living through must be huge because she had been treated much differently because of how she used to look. I stare in the mirror. I can see signs of age, but I still find myself beautiful. I cling to that image and believe it has more value than all my savings accounts. It is what has filled my savings, bought my house, contributed to my IRA. My image is what draws people to me. My image is how I have financed my life. I wonder if my image is partly what mesmerizes my boyfriend, to what he professes his undying loyalty. I know there is more to me. I know that my heart is the most beautiful part of me but.... I don't trust it yet.

2008-12-31T18:00:00.000-08:00

this is a fast, unedited post. My boyfriend is on his way home and bringing his friend and then two other of his friends are meeting us for dinner. I wish to stay home, be low key, make love. But why I am in a hurry is cause his friends can't know my true profession. Mine of course do. So I repeated myself about my hairdresser I just reread one of my entries. that is embarrassing to me like I have dementia. But while I was writing it I thought this really struck me I wonder if I wrote it already. Oh well so I am human and demented (sike) Tomorrow I will leave town for a week and be around my family so probably I'll be too paranoid about young nieces looking over my shoulder to write. So today I played a fantasy with a guy who wanted me to be his auntie and call him a motherfucker because he secretly wanted to fuck his mother but he came to me cause I looked like her. I so enjoy this kind of b movie role play. I have said that line before as well. I spit in his face. bEfore I did, he had asked me to in the email that explained the scenario, I had to ask again and make a disclaimer that i didn't want him to feel disrespected. He assured me it was alright. He assured me that he doesn't want to fuck his mother at all. It is just the taboo thought of it that gets him going. I enjoyed being the blackmailer, lording over him the fact that I could tell his mother that her son was here with a hard cock lusting after my look alike pussy. I asked him how he felt after we were done. "I feel relieved" he told me and I am glad. Then I had my usual pussy eating freak who I endured. I realize that the difference in sex with clients and my boyfriend is that when I am with my boyfriend I am happy to be in my body and seek to stay there. When I am with clients who are involved with my pussy I am enduring the time. I calculate my moans, hip motions and all the clues of excitement. My breath, I escalate it at what I hope is a reasonable pace until I pretend to come 9 out of ten times I fake it. And I got to post cause here they come

my 300th post- mitzvah therapy

2008-12-30T17:58:00.000-08:00

The last time I went to my hairdresser, he was combing my hair full of knots and he said “Let me know if I hurt you” Then he said, “Oh I forget who I’m talking to- you probably get a lot rougher treatment than that.” He meant because I am a whore, escort, call girl whatever label you feel comfortable with, he imagined (he is a young, gay male) that I get manhandled by men. I was shocked and had to set the record straight, not allow stereotypes to proliferate. I said, “My clients treat me like gold. They care about my pleasure, want to learn how to touch me correctly and are super respectful. Please pass this information on to everyone you know.” I was shocked that he harboured this assumption. My clients send me emails and texts wishing me happy holidays, My clients bring my dog treats, My clients thank me and praise me constantly during the session and after.They are grateful that I attend to their needs and value their sexual urges. My clients are the nicest men in the world, quite frankly and I want everyone to know this. We recently had snow, enough that I couldn’t make it to work. Three clients picked me up in their 4 wheel drive vehicles and drove us to my incall. I recently got a request from a man who wants to worship the divine feminine in me in whatever way I can feel it or think it is appropriate.

My business is mostly regular clients who I have seen for more than a year. Yesterday I saw a guy who I remember writing about here a long time ago. Our first conversation drove me crazy, I wanted to disagree with everything he said, but I held back my reactivity and tried to meet him where he was at. He since has been trying to progress and has read “the Secret” and gone to Real Estate courses and is trying to figure out ways in which his life would be happier and is working toward that. I have witnessed him through this progress. He will move out of state and so as he was telling me his plans, I was impressed. I used the first syllable of his name (instead of the whole two syllable name) and said, “--- you really know what you’re doing!” He was so moved that I called him that version of his name. He said, “You and my X girlfriend are the only ones who ever used that as my name and I think it means you like me beyond this business arrangement that we have.” I just find that so cute and endearing.

Today I passed the man whores who I mentioned in another post. The Mexicans who stand at Lowes waiting with desperate looking faces to be asked to do manual labor. There was like 20 of them standing in the cold, looking simultaneously hopeful and worried. I went to the bank and got $100 worth of $5. dollar bills. I felt scared of this decision to distribute money to the crowd. What if they felt insulted? What if I came up short this month and needed the money? What if they were excessively grateful and I felt embarrassed? I turned into the driveway and stopped near where they were gathered. The whole crowd ran toward my car. What if I did need 1 or 2 men and I had to choose from 20 of them? How would I have been able to do that?! I apologized that I had no work, but I wanted to give them something for lunch. I handed out fives to the grabby hands that surrounded me. The other group from the other entrance started approaching, but I didn’t have enough so I got back into my car. One guy held his money to thy sky, I imagine giving thanks to God. Now I am like my client the bragger, telling you all how nice I am. I was happy to think of the idea and act on it. I was happy to take a risk even if it scared me and I was happy to show those men who are not important as a subgroup in our society that somebody thought of them and cared. Sol Gordon who recently passed, was a great sex educator, psychologist and author. He wrote books for children, teens and adults. One of his theories was that “mitzvah therapy” could help anyone even people severely depressed. A mitzvah is a good deed and I am sure everyone reading this has done one and can attest to the fact that it does feel really good. I did this in his honor.

Happy New Year everybody! I hope I make changes in my career this year taking risks that utilize my mental capacities as well as physical. I hope I find ways to liberate people and help in facilitating better sexual experiences for a greater number of people. I hope everyone tries new things, feels more at one with others, and has tons of pleasure.

sleeping beauties

2008-12-15T17:38:00.001-08:00

Have I ever written about the “Sleeping Beauties” client? He came by today and requested a duo. I managed to get my neighbor 40 minutes before the session started to join us. I have all kinds of potential duo partners. They don’t have to be sex workers or they might be. This partner has boundaries where she will get naked but not touch a dick. We have worked together before with this client because all we have to do is pretend we are asleep while he undresses us, moves us into different positions, and eventually masturbates himself onto our belly or thigh and we are done. It is easy compared to other requests. She is lighter than me in skin tone and hair and we probably look very beautiful lying together on the bed in the different positions he poses us in. At least he always mutters comments to that affect. Today we were his Christmas present of living dolls. We keep our eyes closed and this is key to his ability to enjoy himself. He is not ugly and his dick isn’t too small, so why he doesn’t want to engage with a live, expressive woman is something I would love to explore with him in therapy but alas, he would rather stay in his comfort zone. I imagined as I lay there with my eyes closed to the sounds of him opening his belt and taking off his clothes, the terror an underage girl might feel with approaching incest, hoping that by faking to be asleep she could somehow stave off the oncoming attack. I also felt protective of my partner hoping that his fondling of her breasts (which I imagined was happening to her because it had happened to me) wasn’t a boundary violation. At some point the touching and rearranging of limbs ceased and I felt a gentle rythmic rocking of the bed. Soon the warmth of thick liquid drops oozed over my belly and I knew he would almost be gone. He was very grateful to us for indulging him and he left ten minutes before his hour was up. I have seen this man for years and today I noticed that a new addition to his repetoire was kissing our motionless lips (without tongue action) I believe this signals progress. He has also lost 55 pounds since we first met.

walking underwater

2008-12-02T23:43:00.000-08:00

I don’t know how to describe how I feel. Underwater. Like moving takes alot of effort and is slow. I am doing what needs to be done, but I can’t go beyond that. Work is slow and monetary insecurity drives me crazy. I know I am not alone in feeling that way in this current economic situation. I kept tabs on my income since August on the computer and it is down by about $800 a month. That is significant. I have been cutting down on my self care activities, doing survival mode and some luxuries. If other providers are doing well, I feel jealous, but that is nothing new. I have my regulars though thankfully. The guy who drove me crazy because he was so slow returned and I found out he has Parkinson’s. That explains everything and makes me even more tolerant. He talked about it slowly for half an hour. He said there were two types of people he separated them by how they responded to his revelation of having Parkinsons. Those who asked questions and those who dropped the subject. That could also be a deliniation of how people respond when I say I am a sex worker. I saw a guy last week who booked an hour and an half and still wasn’t able to have an orgasm. He said ever since he went on Paxil, his ability to get over the edge has been altered. Including when he masturbates. These psych meds have scary side effects. Today I had one client and a cancellation for thursday. The one client was overweight and generic in appearance of a 50 something year old man. He took off his clothes immediately and told me he was “open to anything.” Thanks for the clues. I always start with skin to skin contact and work my way down the body. ears, neck, lips without saliva, nipples, belly dragging my hair down toward the destination of cock and balls. His were uninspiring. He tried to touch me and I had to interrupt to tell him instructions which I should have in neon hanging on the ceiling. “Slower and Gentler”. He said he understood and then kept trying to flick my clit like a light switch. I don’t feel sexy repeating admonitions to touch me differently but I have to and he supposedly understands and then doesn’t change anything! So I am now counting down the minutes until he leaves. I don’t think he is trying to be dominant he is just thick or insensitive or...??? His dick never gets truly hard but I attempted to fuck him nonetheless. I climb aboard and try to ride the lukewarm joystick which softens even more. Then he suggests doing it “doggie,” what a horrible title. and I agree but his belly is actually in the way and his dick isn’t big enuf to override the protruding stomach so his cock becomes flaccid and I start stimulating it again, apply a new condom and he suggests him being on top. Soon his knees hurt and we stop. His cock is soft- surprise surprise and so I use my hand and mouth to get him excited again and suffer as he touches me. Actually I applied a toy to myself that I thought blocked him from annoying me but he still had to fumble around. He liked to sniff his fingers intermittently. When he is about to come, he warns me to stop because he doesn’t want to come in my mouth. A simpler solution would have been to say, “watch out” but he does not win awards in communication. He suggested that I ride him again so I get him hard and condom him. He is costing me alot of condom reapplication. I get on and pretend to enjoy it. He tells me he is close and to go faster, but alas he doesn’t get over the edge, so I use my hands and mouth again and tell him just to warn me when it is time. He takes his cock into his fingers and comes on himself and brings his fingers to his nose to sniff his scent. I am so happy its over.

Meanwhile Jerk and Don’t Book as they are labeled in my caller id keep calling me no matter how many times I don’t answer my phone. Dec 17th is day to End Violence to Sex Workers organized by Annie Sprinkle. www.swopusa.org/dec17 I want to celebrate, commemorate, make our presence and concerns known and I am immobilized.

TGIF

2008-11-21T23:34:00.000-08:00

Today I started my work day as a therapist and then I had 2 hours free which was lovely. I meandered, as opposed to rushed, to Kinkos where they change VHS tapes to DVD’s. I used to have an old style VHS recorder where I recorded artifacts of my life. I have my son’s 8th birthday party on tape, which I can’t wait to look at. I thought these would make great holiday presents. Then I mosied to the nearby shops which didn’t open till 12 except for the bookstore. Oh evil bookstore, I had to go in and buy one more book that will wait a million years for me to read halfway. I felt good giving them my money. I bet books and especially stores will become more rare as the world progresses. I had to pick up medicine so my reverie of non goal oriented activity ceased. I got ready for work, (this entails, make-up and hair, getting dressed in lingerie, laundry and pussy washing), called the dogwalker to arrange my dog to be dropped off at my work. I love when a client is there and my dog saunters in, her paws clicking on the steps. The client was a nice, appreciative and well rounded man. He came bearing gifts; a bottle of wine, a box of cannolies and a chocolate bar. My first reaction was that he had suffered a stroke in the past from his movements and speech, but then he would surprise me and be able to do positions of strength and flexibility. He was extremely slow and deliberate, which I usually would like but this felt painful. I think he did it for dramatic effect or even Zen, appreciating each second in a moment but I felt like screaming with impatience. Luckily, I do appreciate challenges like this and overcoming them which then makes me feel victorious. So I let him give me a massage and slowly caress my nipples with his tongue. I asked myself why was I feeling so crazy, It’s like he is creating an itch on me that I can’t scratch. He warned me that he had trouble maintaining an erection when he was with somebody for the first time so I had no expectations. I offered to use the female condom because it does not grip the base of the cock tightly like elastic to stay on. It hangs like a bag anchored inside the vagina, like a sleeve. It would not win awards for attractiveness. My client and I did the usual array of activities including various articles up his butt. His dick performed perfectly. As he left he said, “Thank you for being you.”
I went to have my hair colored and cut by my new 3 times hairdresser, Antonio. Yes he is gay. He was combing my hair and hitting some knots. He said, “Let me know if I hurt you.” then he chuckled, “Oh I forget who I am talking to. I bet you get treated much rougher than that.” I was shocked that he held that stereotype which fits into the men are pigs category. I had to debunk this myth immediately. I said, “My clients are very gentle and sweet. They let me take the lead and care about pleasing me. They are romantic and poetic. I give them a space to let that side of themselves out.” I hope he repeats that to a ton of people.

make hay...

2008-11-20T00:30:00.001-08:00

I am really tired, it is after midnight but I want to write. The economy sucks and I am turning away business.... go figure. I grab it because I feel like the mouse who is storing grain for winter. Yesterday I saw 4 and today 3. I turned away 3 today because they all wanted the same times. I was a therapist until 3 and during my lunch break did some pleasant shopping at Target. My ho activities started at 5, then 6:30. I thought I was done at 8 and went home to cook some chicken curry. My phone rang and the guy begged me to visit him in his condo. I told him I had just started dinner so I’d be there in 90 minutes. I walked my dog, picked up my outcall kit and drove to his very upscale place. He offered me wine and we sat down in front of a fake fire. It looked real to me. He had art on the walls. I recognized one artist that my mom likes. I asked if it was a Rothko print. He confessed that it was the real thing. Now I knew he was really rich. He said his partner had cancer and was sick so they had no physical relationship. I like honesty and was happy to know his situation. When we proceeded to the bed he lay on his stomach making me think he wanted attention on his ass. (God forbid he would speak in words, I have to be a mind reader) After about 10 minutes of ass rubbing and tickling, he turned over and I sucked his cock combined with a finger titillating his asshole. Pretty soon he asked for the condom and got on top and it was over within a minute. He got up and took off his condom (I heard the toilet flush) He came out wearing a robe which I mind read was my signal that we were done. “You have no idea....” he started to say and I imagined he meant how good it was to fuck again. I am always happy to leave early, my dog awaits me, so I got dressed and he handed me a wad of cash. He didn’t ask my outcall rate, which is $50 more, but rich as he obviously is, he could have guessed or added a tip but no, he paid me my incall rate. He said he might call me again tomorrow night.

Do you remember me?

2008-11-13T00:17:00.000-08:00

Bob, Bill, Brian, Mike, Mark, Paul, Dave, John, Steve, Tom, Ron, Don, Dan, How can I remember clients when they all have the same name? “Do you remember me? I saw you a year or two ago. My name is John” Yeah right. “Well you might remember because you used a strap on.” Yeah right. I have a theory about memory. We all have different genes so that we complement each other to make up a community. Evolution didn’t know that we would invent the internet or books, so people with memory were very valuable as historians, accountants, or Keepers of the Culture. There are different strengths of memory. Some people drive to some obscure place once and remember 5 years later how to get there again. Some people remember landmarks. I once called a friend and said I was lost. I named the 4 fast food restaurants at the intersection and he knew where I was and directed me home. Some people remember phone numbers. Me, I remember gossip. That helps me in therapy because the clients tell me stories with characters in their life and then weeks later they bring up their mother-in-law again and I say, “oh, Linda.” shocking the shit out of myself that I can recall that. That was a tangent but anyway these clients remember me and the great time we had and I draw a blank. Sometimes during the hour they become vaguely familiar. My positive spin on my limited capacity is that everytime can be fresh. Yesterday I had 3 clients who I had seen before, but it had been some months. Two had names like in the first line, but the one with the slightly more unusual name I remembered. Was that why I remembered him or was it also cause he was Asian and very slight? I weighed more than he. You know the comics where the woman is thinking something completely different than the man. Without being able to draw I am going to try to illustrate that.
The guy is ugly. His body has not exercised much, although he is not fat. He is wearing braces and is in his 50’s. But I am a superhero and I believe that we all deserve love and my challenge, which I always accept, is to find what is beautiful in him and love that. He wants to kiss me with his tongue. That completely grosses me out. I tell him gently that I prefer not to do that, so I let him kiss me with dry lips. I am trying to act like I am into it, but I am really thinking I will do anything to get away from this proximity to his face. At some point since he is lying down and he has taken off his glasses he starts to resemble Mick Jagger. I must be hallucinating, but at least it is an improvement. I tell him this revelation. He was worried that he would come too soon and he wanted to enjoy himself for a while. I am good at going slow, but them his dick wasn’t even getting hard. My memory sucks for books and movie information and plots. I have been reading recently two books by Metz and McCarthy; one about so called Premature Ejaculation and one about so called Erectile Dysfunction. I use the preface so called because I agree with how Marty Klein refers to it without pathology. “So, you come before you want to? Oh and you don’t get a hard on when you want to.” These are supposedly easy psychological fixes, but I drew a blank. He did have a lovely orgasm though and not before he wanted to.

vanilla (and Obama won! YAY)

2008-11-05T00:03:00.001-08:00

Whenever I go by Lowes or Home Depot, it is inevitable to see the man whores standing in clumps hoping that someone will need the strength of their body and pay them for its usage. They are dressed in serious workclothes, their expressions a mix of hope and desperation. I look them over, without exception Mexicans, but I have no money or work to offer them.
to perv commented on my last post that my clients seem to want kinky things and he is just looking for plain connection and mutual fun. I probably have a majority of clients who seek as to perv does, but I don’t write about them. I don’t know how I would write it time after time. It would sound like a repetitive brag. The weird ones are the ones who most fascinate me. The diverse aspects of human sexual desire are who I want to mention. They are the shining true specimens. But I am going to see what I have to say about the more common connection seekers. I think that their desire is beautiful and is a basic human need. They might be married and unable to feel whole in their union. “My wife wouldn’t ever do this” This could be: fuck me in the ass, Keep the lights on. masturbate in front of me. oral sex, enjoy (sic) herself loudly. “All the ladies I meet are vanilla or conservative, close-minded.” (variations on the same theme) This next line is never overtly spoken but i imagine paraphrasing it “I am too shy or scared to be vulnerable to someone unless I can assure that they will accept me by paying them”. “My religious upbringing taught me that sexual expression was wrong but now I am learning how beautiful it can be.” “Thank you for sharing yourself with me. Thank you for enjoying me. Thank you for validating the fact that I am a virile, sexual creature. thank you for not judging me. Thank you for letting me express my fantasies and live them.” Seventy five percent of my clients are repeats. We know about each other’s gardens. I ask R if his tomatoes ever got ripe. J asks me how my other career is going. They ask how my son is doing. I inquire about their grandchildren and what they are buying for christmas presents. We have an ongoing relationship at their convenience and initiative that goes the way they want and is limited in scope and time. I get birthday wishes from clients I haven’t seen in years who moved to another state.I get update calls to inform me of their losses or gains when they need someone to share it with. It is beautiful and real in this boundaried relationship. They say the path through a women’s heart starts at her mind and ends at her genitals. And men are the opposite using the gate of the genitals to open their heart and loosen their tongue. All I do is open the gate.

The unknowable NORMAL

2008-11-02T14:27:00.000-08:00

What I find most amusing about this story is I considered it all in a days work until I inadvertantly mentioned the stocking part to my boyfriend and he laughed, and then racked his brain trying to understand.
The guy called me with an out of town area code number and asked me some questions about role play, what kinds of outfits and shoes I had and if I wore eye makeup. I must have answered satisfactorily because he booked an appointment for midday. I was in between therapy clients when we talked and he asked what was my other job. I said a therapist. “Oh physical therapist?” he asked. This is most people’s first guess. “No talk.” I responded. I used to say “Psycho (as in psychotherapist)” but it seemed to silence people. Anyway so I joked about doing a role play of Dr. Melfi and Tony Soprano which he said would be fun. I dressed in a sexy suit with a satin merry window underneath and stockings full of runs near the heel. I am very organized about alot of things like paying my bills on time but having un run stockings or sanitary products are not my forte. I wore them anyway. He was a relatively cute, young guy, alittle overweight. He brought some other “toys” in his knapsack. He noticed my spandex, elbow length gloves among my clothing and got very excited, so I added them to my outfit. He wanted to tell me other activities he liked but he said he wasn’t sure if they were “normal.” I asked, “Do they have to do with your butt?” He said yes and I said “They are normal.” and waved to my collection of dildos just waiting to plug him. I have to do a rant sometime about this notion of normalcy.
The role play we decided on gave me the part of the seductress and he play my victim but he kept welcoming my advances. I suggested a couple times that he say no or try to resist. He has to play his role so I can play mine. I asked if I was annoying him by correcting his lines and he said no and complied which made me able to act more seductive and dominating. I caressed him with my slippery gloved hand and he felt my body in its satin casing. His balls were ultra sensitive so I could barely touch them. I just touched and teased him all over his face and body until I thought it would be a good time to begin on his asshole. His other toys were a pair of fake vampire teeth that he said,”I always fantasized about kissing a goth girl.” and a paid of stockings, “I saw a video where the people wore these over their faces and it was really HOT!” The fake teeth were very crappy and didn’t stay fitted to my teeth so I felt like a person wearing dentures with no glue. It was a shortlived experiment. The stockings over the face squished my nose and I felt uncomfortable. I left mine on about a minute and then took it off because I felt hot and ugly like a bank robber. When I donned my cock I made him suck it and I slapped his face with it and I finally probed his butt and gave him a good fucking which made him shoot his load and sigh. He thought he could go for a second orgasm and used more than his allotted hour trying. I expected a tip but actually he was $40 short which I only discovered after he left cause I feel tacky counting the money while they are watching. When I told my boyfriend about the stocking he stretched his mind trying to imagine how and why someone would find that erotic, to no avail. My reaction to the request was, “sure, a stocking, whatever.”
I just remembered another time I had a client who loves the smell of other men's sperm and always wished I would come to our appointment dripping with a pussy full of my boyfriends come. I don't use birth control so that is not an option. That morning however my boyfriend and I were cavorting and he shot his load on his stomach. I wiped it with a tissue and thought what a nice surprise I could bring this guy, a sample of come. I didn't tell my boyfriend and he will read it sometime here and I wonder what he will say. He could be mad that I used him to make somebody else happy or he could just be incredulous that someone would enjoy that. The client really enjoyed the scent.

bitch and moan

2008-10-28T19:24:00.000-07:00

I went to my blog and then I went to comments. I saw a comment from to perv and went to his blog and saw that he is getting more comments lately and linked to the people who he was reading and reading him, They all are people who enjoy sex and participate in it somehow. They long for sexual contact and pursue it. I felt alone -a familiar feeling, like I am excluded from the club of the sex bloggers. Then I wonder why and come up with explanations like because I have sex without wanting it? or am I not in the club because my feelings are not as intense as theirs or I don’t write as well. Who do I matter to and why? why do i exist? is the bottom line which I have asked myself since I am 23 years old. I am double that now. I am fascinated by what I read from people who crave sex, with their bodies, minds and spirits. I am sometimes repulsed by sex, finding it tiresome and a chore and a job literally and figuratively. It feels half okay to write that here in cyberspace where anonymous people read the thoughts of an anonymous person.
Today I tried a new “technology” with my therapist called Life Span Integration. The premise is that we are still reacting to events in our childhood and that we need to convince our younger self that we are now older by taking her thru the years of our lives, citing memories of each year. I did that this morning with him. A six year old child was being forced to apologize to somebody by my mom. My little girl didn’t want to say “I’m sorry” even if she was. I wonder what she would have invented as a way to show regret if given the option. She tried to negotiate with her mom to a halfway point and was unsuccessful. It was interesting as he went thru the prompts I had written to define my life at each year. Many of the blurbs were about men I was seeing or areas I was exploring. The first time thru the life span I felt shame about everything he mentioned. I was always outside the boundaries of what my mother and her pillar, the rest of society, considered normal and moral. The second time we did it again and I felt pride that the 6 year old self had managed to hold on to her integrity in the face of her mother’s power. She refused to give in and kept herself intact. I saw through the memories of past lovers and travels a unique openness and fearless curiosity that defied convention and the power of majority beliefs.
Then I went to work and saw a regular. The economy is affecting me. I have less calls, I have less business, so I welcomed him. He is a millionaire and a smart guy so our conversation between his orgasms is usually interesting. I asked if the economic downturn was affecting his business. He said only in the area of lending and still people hound him for donations to political campaigns and every other worthy cause that exists. I find it interesting that some people ask for money when they know somebody has it but others have to pretend that isn’t their major area of concern. Like last night my client stayed for 2 hours, the last half hour spent talking but then when he left the money he asked if the one hour rate was okay. Granted maybe he had no idea of what time it was, but I said, “can you leave the 1.5 hour rate?” which he dug out of his pocket. The millionaire kept his extra $20 for himself, like he might need it for lunch, after pronouncing me awesome etc. All I did today was have two scheduled hours. One I paid for and one I got paid. Therapy clients call and then I return their call and they don’t call back. Perhaps that is the nature of this business. Luckily that gave me time to fuck my boyfriend in the middle of the afternoon, a infrequent luxury when we both are not tired and spent from the day.
My boyfriend is worried about his job and asked me if he had to relocate what I would do. I would go with him. He feels like my home. Him, my dog and our future grandchildren is what is most important to me.

the shadow knows

2008-10-23T18:12:00.000-07:00

My day was an exciting mix of therapy and sex. My first therapy appointment cancelled as I was on my way to see him. I went back home and crawled into the warm bed. Next I went to the Monday sex therapy consult group for two hours. Everything they talk about thrills me and I find space to participate. I still feel thrilled that they invited me. Then I had a client, a young (under 30) man for therapy. He said with tears running from his eyes that he didn’t know who he was anymore. As slowly I gained his trust and he revealed more, it was not true that he doesn’t know who he is. It is more accurate that who he is scares him. He is in the territory of his shadow. In my millions of rotating books that I read a couple pages from, one I was recently reading was about the shadow. I feel comfortable with my shadow, mosty and my petty jealousies, meaness and perversions. I attribute that to the rabbi I had when I was a kid. I remember nothing else of what he said but this: “God doesn’t care if you think about killing your mother. God only would care if you actually killed her.” I believed him immediately. Of course God would be that understanding and cool. That’s why so many people sing his praises constantly. My client was tortured because although he loved his girlfriend and thought she was beyond amazing, he also was horny and other women could become the target of that feeling. There is a world of difference between thinking and acting. If we can control our actions to be in line with our integrity, then we are doing well. He is doing well. As he continued talking I felt like I was watching each star of a constellation appear until I could draw the connecting lines and see the picture. His shadow didn’t scare me and my acceptance helped him to hold it and look himself. That’s my interpretation of what happened. I thought it was fun. Then I went home to get my dog and take her to my other job where the man wanted to be tied up. I had to get some guidelines about what activities he would enjoy. Usually they want me to “force’ them to eat my pussy or pleasure me orally. Then they want me to use their cock for my vaginal enjoyment and then they might want me to force them to enjoy being fucked in the ass. He wanted it all. Though he was probably older than me, he said he had never eaten any pussy. I gave him a general overview. I would not say he was an enthusiastic learner. After it was over he told me I was the first person he had experienced “uncovered french” with. I asked him why he hasn’t had any girlfriends. He waved that question away with laughter. He said that his experience with providers has changed him profoundly in positive ways. I am glad. My boyfriend is away and I laid in bed with my laptop wandering over to my only favorite porno site bignaturals.com and jerked off to the free pictures.

Wall socket

2008-10-18T18:20:00.001-07:00

Last night I had great sex with my boyfriend and I feel amazed at the revelation that I am just beginning to discover what I like about sex and how to be in the sexual moment not as a performer. Imagine that!
A client recently said something to me about stretching the foreplay to the whole evening. He said he imagined fooling around while cooking dinner and watching TV culminating in a focused longer interval later in the evening. When he said that I responded, “Wow I never thought of that.” I am very task oriented to get done what I have planned. I remembered that idea last night when my boyfriend wanted to change his shoes. I asked if I could help him and I got into a serving, devotional moment of taking care of him. We also took moments to kiss slowly and languidly thru-out the evening. When we finally got to bed he wanted to “devour me.” Hearing that made me nervous and I wish I was like him in this way. He so welcomes at any time or place any attention I lavish on any part of his body. I am very particular and don’t want certain strokes at certain times. Last night when he started touching me, I took his fingers and used them to masturbate myself. I was tuned into myself in a way I never knew I was capable of and was able to feel what I wanted and how I wanted to be seduced. I was telling him to leave spaces in the touches, between the kisses because when he pulls back I am very eager to either have him return or wonder what he will do next. I like that feeling of anticipation and longing. I worried that I was being too bossy in my insistence on having things the way I envisioned them, but I went ahead with my requests. I had him place his hand over my cunt, palm open and grab me. With my legs spread, I could thrust against him. I felt very slutty and sexy doing that and I told him. Of course being in the moment is momentary. Anyone who practices meditatation knows that the monkey mind is always ready to throw out theories and thoughts to captivate the intellect away from the heart. I thought of a book I read called Passionate Marriage by David Schnarch (highly recommended). I was thinking I finally understood what he was writing about mature long term sexuality and the potential it has to be “wall socket sex” is his terminology. I think my boyfriend would like the rest of our evening to remain private between us but let me tell you...it was amazing. To feel emotional about the “kinky” acts I was performing was a first for me and gave me insight into where I would want to lead all of my clients (sex and therapy) into this magical realm.

transformation (a landmark word)

2008-10-17T18:18:00.000-07:00

Wednesday evening I was prepared for T to call me when he got into town and tell me his room number so I would visit him in his hotel. As it neared 9 o’clock I started to figure out that it probably wasn’t going to happen. Perhaps because when he asked me over the phone for “details” as he was boarding his plane, I was stumped on what he wanted me to elucidate. I do not like to promise exact acts because it feels degrading. When my phone rang, it was someone else who wanted me to visit his hotel. Hotels have rank, Holiday Inn is like McDonalds and Hyatt is like a fine dining establishment. He was at Hyatt so I knew he’d be upscale. I got dressed in my outcall outfit which is very discreet yet sexy and went to see him at 10. He was a usual looking guy with a belly in his late 50’s. He invited me in and seemed shy. I can smooth out awkwardness, and proceeded to engage him in small talk and then coax him out of his clothes. He said he liked to be spoiled- a very broad category. I started with a massage using my whole body and hands paying attention to the soft area between his legs which caused him to gasp with pleasure. When I invited him whispering in his ear to turn over his cock was soft and I went to work on it trying to convince it to stiffness with a soft, warm mouth and oiled hands. It was not highly responsive. His hands were equally busy trying to touch the usual areas, nipples and pussy that all guys want to touch. He kept asking me, “Do you like this?” To which I would reply lying thru my teeth, “Yes.” trying to sound as into it and convincing as possible. As time wore on I played with his asshole but he didn’t want me to go too far inside (not to his prostate) and his cock still wasn’t responding. All the continual stimulation of me was getting on my nerves and my mind was wandering to increasing his price and to how I would tactfully say, Oh well its been an hour.... He asked me for the 6th time if I liked what he was doing and I lost my patience, shocking myself by truthfully blurting out, “This isn’t about what I like! If it was I would get a massage and go to sleep!” I don’t know how we transitioned but suddenly we were just cuddling and stroking our skin not genitals and he was telling me that he just likes touching and being close and that he doesn’t get it at home. Whenever he tries he is told. NO by his wife. The therapist in me was activated. Was his lack of erection a learned response to his wife’s rejection? I asked if he asked her Why? He did not. I suddenly had total empathy and compassion for this guy and wanted to let him drink as much as he needed from the spring as he was obviously dying of thirst. After a while I suggested that he try again with his wife and tell her he just wanted to hold her. I said even if you want sex, don’t do it. “Well what if I do want sex?” he asked. “You have lived without it for so long, it won’t kill you to live alittle longer,” I replied. “after a week of just cuddling your wife will probably initiate sex,” I said, hoping it was true. I had one more piece of advice for him. “When you touch her,” I told him, “don’t ask her if she likes it. Just ask if she likes it this was or that way. That way she can make a choice.” I thought if what annoyed her about this man was what annoyed me, this would be a welcome change. He wanted me to stay the night but that would have taxed me, so I declined. I left thinking how sweet a man he was and surprised that after being so annoyed, I could do a turn around and feel so different.

so called submissives

2008-10-16T18:52:00.000-07:00

People who call me requesting to play the role of submissive show an interesting likeness. They try to use dominance in demanding what they want from me. I have an interpretation for this paradox. Since they often take the dominant role in work and home venues, they are seeking a vacation with me of leaving responsibility for making any decisions or choices. Just tell me what to do and I will obey. A guy calls me this morning at 10:15. He says he saw my ad and was very attracted to me. He pauses waiting for me to assume the direction of the conversation. I know how to do this. “Was it my physique or my writing that attracted you?” I ask, so I know what road we are going to travel. “Your physical attributes,” he admits, “especially your calves.” He admits to also liking what I wrote about being open to fantasies and he sees himself as a submissive and muscle worshipper. He wants an appointment today before 2. I would love to see this guy and make some money but unfortunately my schedule is booked with non earning activities like future career enrichment. I am going to a sex therapy supervision consult group from 11-1 and then have a therapy client scheduled at 2 across town. That puts me back in action at 4 which I tell him. He is unwilling to accept this outcome. He begs for a 15 minute interval,.just to talk to me. “What will we do in 15 minutes?” I ask? He begs to be my chauffeur to my various obligations. That is the most outlandish Idea I ever heard. I don’t know him from Adam and I’m going to trust him to drive me and get me places on time!!! He asks if that since he is a submissive could I order him to come see me when I want. “Sure I would love to do that but then you will have a scheduling conflict,” I tell him. He kept wishing there was some way I could fit him into my schedule in the next 4 hours and I assured him it was not possible. “I can tell that you are very horny,” I said to acknowledge his need and feelings. I have had submissives beg to do housework for me which I have never agreed to. I imagine the work taking double the time because I have to stop every couple minutes to scold, humiliate or spank them. Many “submissives” spend the session telling me how to dominate them in the way that they want. Perhaps that is an invitation to become more dominant, slap them and tell them that if they utter another word they will be real sorry they did. The phone just rang and I just scheduled somebody for later this evening. It is amazing how much better I feel knowing I will have some income today.
Now it is two days later and I haven’t heard from the submissive. I had two visitors today which calmed my monetary panic alittle. The second one was a first timer who also never had a prostate massage. He was into Ekhart Tolle’s philosophy The Power of Now. I should read that book, it seems to have positively influenced a number of people. He said he was perceptive and so I asked him to tell me some things he knew of me in our brief time together. What he said reminded me of a horoscope entry. You are a caregiver, granola-esque, oppositional (that was his best observation to which I replied takes one to know one) He said “if you had more education you’d probably be a nurse.” Wrong I gleefully announced. “You have had issues with guys” Hmmm does that fit for 99 % of the population? The bottom line was we had a good time. It was nice to see somebody I hadn’t seen before because so much of my business is repeat clientele. I celebrate that I was able to initiate him into the pleasures of the prostate.

I feel boring

2008-10-12T20:09:00.001-07:00

The uncertainty of the economy is hitting people across the boards including me- the recipient of disposable income. It is scary because I am at a certain income and spend according to that. This is not a unique position but I just thought I’d share. This weekend I had no requests friday saturday and today I saw somebody today for half an hour at half price. Next week I have two scheduled. One is prepaid. He came last week and gave me double the money with this request: “Next week when you get really horny just call me up and tell me you need a nice big cock to satisfy you and I will come and do it.” He gave me his office number. He is a lawyer. I find it interesting that because he will not pay me that day, he will be able to fool himself that I called him because I really wanted him. The whole time we are being sexual he talks not exactly dirty talk but romantic talk. “I just dream about you and your beautiful, delicate breasts and tenderly making love to you all day long.” In that vein. I am watching tv while I write this and my concentration is not complete. I am spending like $80 a month on TV which is ridiculous so I am trying to see what is worth it. So far nothing. A show called the Californication, I randomly chose had a whore and a porno actress on the same episode. The girlfriend was mad that her boyfriend had seen a whore even though it was when they weren’t together. The reasoning for her anger is never questioned. Jealousy is never suspect. All preconceptions that lead to their fight are assumed by the majority and don’t need to be elucidated by the characters. I am annoyed. I want intellectual stimulation. Therapy is also going slow and I told my boyfriend that I am stressed by the insecurity I feel about my finances and financial viability.

suggest a title

2008-10-03T07:10:00.000-07:00

Perhaps the fundamental difference between the sexes is that men need to fuck and women don’t. Ergo prostitution. Ergo marriage. There in lies the power imbalance. Men will put up with a lot because in the end there are going to get some nookie. Recently an ex boyfriend called me. Two years ago at our last interaction he said “Don’t call me anymore because my girlfriend doesn’t want me talking to other females.” I knew it was only a matter of time until he’d be calling me and apologizing. I rehearsed my vengeful and self righteous lecture of I don’t need a sometime friend who is willing to throw me away when ever someone demands him to. When he called my anger dissolved and I felt only pity. Pity that he could let someone run his life in exchange for pussy. That’s all he got and a sense of belonging. She obviously didn’t care about or respect him. I asked general questions to update me on his life since I last knew of it and found out that it was much the same except he wasn’t sleeping well. Why not? I asked. “You know how I am if I’m not getting any.” he said. I wouldn’t know that because when he was with me, we fucked. In some past relationships I was the person who wanted more sex. Often my male partners stopped having sex with me. That feels like a big rejection. I wondered about my attractiveness and erotic qualities. I conclude that sexual disparities reflect deeper problems in relational connectedness. That particular x- boyfriend never refused me. I remember saying no to him once and I felt bad. It also is not good to always agree to sex because the other person wants it. He called me back a couple days later to ask me what I charged per hour. I felt bad to say I couldn’t see him even for money. I told him where to look for providers and promised him a reference. My boyfriend was happy I made that decision.
I had a client today who is a repeat. He is less than half my age and good looking by any standards. Why he doesn’t get his needs met for free....? Perhaps he enjoys the freedom from emotional responsibility.
The second client was someone I knew back from my days at the massage parlor. He came in every Saturday morning like clockwork for a handjob. Ten years older than me and with a belly that resembles a pregnant woman . He lacked social skills, never married and doesn’t expect to. I met him at a hotel, he has rented specifically for the occasion. It is a cheap hotel which allows people to smoke in the rooms. He has bought a cheap champagne which he serves me in a plastic water glass and then he sits down in front of the football game. Perhaps I wonder this is foreplay (the game). A real girlfriend would sit down and try to distract her man from football which I decided would be my role for the evening and did not take much effort other than being female, taking off my clothes and stoking strategic body parts. This was progressing as expected, banal and normal. A very mediocre pussy licking followed by cock sucking and fucking. He came. I faked. And then I tried to engage him in conversation. He told me about places he had traveled to and why he liked them. The stories were pretty tame but at least he had some good memories.

instead

2008-09-24T01:14:00.000-07:00

What does my dog think of me, sitting here looking at a monolith (as it appears to her) all night and making clicking sounds. I am trying to keep track of my budget with a computer spread sheet how techno advanced of me. I have three. one for earnings, one for business expenditures and one for personal spending. That takes alot of upkeep. everything seems to take time, leaving not enough by exception. Paying bills is annoying. I have to get more techno and green by paying online. All those setups take time and I have to remember different login names and passwords. It is late and that means my boyfriend is out of town. I hate rushing but I always am. I wake up earlier so I won’t need to rush but acting relaxed means I end up rushing to get to my first appointment at 10 to meet an administrator and I was in therapist persona. I always feel like a bimbo when I am trying to seem professional. He was slick and polished. Then I was a therapist. I enjoy the escape into someone else life and problems. If I am helpful.... that’s another story. Then since nobody has called on my ho phone and I brought my yoga clothes in case of such a fortuitous circumstance so I rush to the studio. I have a 4 scheduled so after yoga I check messages and somebody wants an afternoon rendevous. I call them back and offer 2:30 which is in 50 minutes and is my only availability. I rush to the supermarket to buy lunch and rush to get ready, fielding phone calls and texts as they arrive. I find myself looking forward to 6 when I will have time to not rush. The first client is the second time I have seen him and is shy and says things that indicate he has low self esteem. I wish that could be the subject instead. He reminds me that giving pleasure is his greatest pleasure. I note that a faked orgasm will occur in the hour. He suggests that I can whisper dirty talk in his ear. “Like what?” I ask teasingly. Of course he thinks he can’t say dirty talk because he is embarrassed. What a perfect opportunity to try and get more comfortable by breaking the ice. I don’t say that cause I don’t want to be pushy, but I wish that could be the conversation instead. “What gets you wet?” he asks. I draw a blank but then figure out a true answer and say, “Good foreplay.” That gives me something to teach him. Do I get wet? No, but it is a good beginning for him to try an expanded repetoire of ways to touch.
I am done by 5:30 and I spend half an hour cleaning up, throwing away condoms and gloves, washing toys, refilling oil and laundry etc. I feel good because I now am only obligated to return phonecalls to friends and feed my dog. I arrive home and start grilling chicken for dinner. the phone rings and it is my best friend for 25 years. I almost don’t want to answer because I am trying to be alone and hear myself. I do answer and she is obviously upset. Her Beloved died an hour ago suddenly and unexpectedly. I can only repeat, “Oh my God” a million times. There is nothing to do but share in her misery. I can’t believe I didn’t take the time to visit her in another state and meet him. Now I never will. If she wants company, I will ask her tomorrow and offer myself. I feel the shock of dreams crashed and her heart breaking. Life is so precious. The world goes on without noticing that one less human is here.

golf and blowjobs

2008-09-22T17:11:00.000-07:00

i have my day planned- 4 scheduled clients one and a half hours apart back to back and of course it turns out otherwise. the 11 was someone I have seen before and he loves to be with me because he can “be himself” with me. Usually he reports, people think his interests and delights are weird and he buys into this and worries about it. Besides his sexual fantasies like imagining his wife with other men and eating the sperm of my boyfriend from my pussy, his more cerebral interests like taking a trip to Mecca or studying Hungarian history also do not garner similar excitement from his friends. No assurance from me can convince him that he is normal or even better than normal. His suffering stems from his belief that even if it feels good to him, it is not valid in the mainstream culture. “But I have no friends,” he complains.
My 12:30 was a no show and I knew he would be even when he made the appointment. the next time I feel that intuition, I will trust it and just say, “I rather not book you”. I’ve been in this business long enough to trust my instincts.
My 2:00 cancelled and rescheduled for the weekend and was replaced by a man who gave me a name I didn’t remember but he assured me I would remember him from when I worked at a massage parlour. When he arrived he was right. He was one of my favorites back in the day and went by a different name which I called him. He is tall, well built and handsome about my age and he loves a prostate massage. I have an image of him with his butt in the air bouncing to get deeper penetration. I also remember feeling like a comedian one day telling him stories about my family after I returned from visiting them. I was jealous of my sister at the time and he laughed alot because I would admit it. He is quiet and much of our session was silent as I massaged him. I noticed and commented on his tan which he attributed to playing golf. When he turned over I told him his options were expanded since the days of the MP and now he could choose from more activities. I didn’t want to push him because some guys like the handjob only rule because it keeps them “faithful” to their marriage vows. “I think I’d like to make love to you,” he said shyly. I found his choice of verb interesting and wondered if the word “fuck” was allowed in his vocabulary. We never got to that because my blowjob and prostate massage did him in.
My 3:30 is a regular who I fake like 3 orgasms with and then have a real one. I finally trained him to eat pussy correctly. He always brings a bottle of champagne.
I went home after that planning to go to yoga at 7:30 when I got a text from the bragger asking if I was busy. I like the bragger because he brings a good bottle of wine and I had been unavailable many of the last times he tried. I forfeited yoga so I could push my days income into the four figure range- a rare and satisfying occurance. I fed my dog and myself and went back to my workplace. He arrived from the airport with a bottle of wine and began bragging. His bragging is fascinating to me because obviously he wants acknowledgment and praise. I decided to try to fulfill his need and said how good he must feel for doing these things to help people both monetarily and with emotional support. I asked him how it felt but he didn’t answer so the exchange left me feeling disconnected. Could he just not admit that he felt good because the guilt of showing off? He has an excessive need to do for others and he told me stories of how he learned that from his father. He always gives me a massage but I made him lay down for one to start. Then he gave me one and couldn’t stop massaging me even while we were fucking. While I was sucking his dick he was massaging my temples. It was more distracting than pleasurable, but I let him do his thing. Then we took a shower and he left.
Why is this post called golf and blowjobs? When I went on vacation last week with my boyfriend, I was the only wife/ girlfriend there. While they played golf, I read, played with my computer, I did yoga and then lay on a raft in the pool, giggling about my luxurious day. After golf they drank and talked like guys do in a group, but I haven’t hung out with a group of guys in a long time. Their conversation was mostly about golf, blowjobs were mentioned often without going into detail and a daily reference to “faggots” or “sissies”. I told them my anthropological findings about them and they laughed. In the car once I racked my brain trying to find a way to start a conversation that would become philosophical. Politics did not bring about anything more than opinion sharing. Finally I gave up and took a nap. My theory is that the majority of men feel comfortable talking about topics like golf and blowjobs with each other and when they are one on one with a woman maybe they venture into more emotional territory. Some men have no idea that there is that territory. This is not a judgement but an observation. I need to do more research.

simultaneous truths

2008-09-10T11:26:00.000-07:00

First I wrote an entry reporting that I wanted to redistribute my energy to other sources than to a blog about my work as a prostitute. I learn when I challenge existing status quo. I noticed two feelings when I didn’t write, I felt more space for other things (even relaxation) and I missed being MP- an expert on my own subject who has people who listen and appreciate her. My automatic response then is to accuse myself of having delusions of grandeur so one night I spontaneously posted a post asking but not quite directly- tell me I matter. It is possible for two opposite feelings to be simultaneously true. Who agrees with that statement? It does feel like I am masturbating (not that there’s anything wrong with it) when I don’t get audience response. Concurrently my strongest desire is to change people’s perceptions therefore I judge if my energy is being wisely spent. I liked reading the comments. to perv said you can’t win for losing. I think you can win and lose simultaneously. Try the non- dualistic approach. (you will be mentioned again in this post, Mr.perv)
Recently I got a yeast infection, followed by a urinary tract infection and my throat hurt. Scary thoughts kept me up at night. I couldn’t help but notice that the two points of entry for penises, mouth and vagina, were both in pain. Pair that with the fact that I have no health insurance. I invent plots that allow me to keep paying my mortgage and not keep fucking and sucking. I would love to participate in all non- entry (in me) activities.
I am on vacation with my boyfriend. We are at a gorgeous luxurious resort (off- season) He will play golf with his male friends. This is their annual tradition. I will relax. Here is my book list: The Return of Desire. Coping with Premature Ejacuation. Coping with Erectile Dysfunction. Anatomy of Love and Difficult Conversations. I used to think I knew almost everything about sex, because I do it so much, but actually there is tons I don’t know. My boyfriend told me to spend $300 at the spa. I agreed to push away my guilt and try it. I am playing that role of wifey who spends husbands money. I have some guilt about it. I try to figure out exactly where this originates. I think it is unfair that some people have excess of money while others have not enough for basic necessities. But we are all human and money never brought happiness- only comfort. These categories that are heirarchically defined by our culture like richer/ poorer, whore/ married woman, create imagined but real feeling separation between people. I like to feel one with everyone. I made friends with the Mexican custodian today who took me to a historic building on the resort. That is another defined hierarchy white= guest and Mexican = service providers who clean, wait, fix and serve us. I consider the Mexicans and wonder how they feel about us the clients. They seem friendly and happy, but that is part of their job. This reminds me of the way to perv worries about his SP’s and needs to know if his providers are for real. What is the difference if we are real or not? What is real? It is real that we want the job or we wouldn’t work so hard doing it. Is it real that we want to have sex with the clients? What constitutes and creates desire? I am pondering that by inviting myself to be aware of its presence and lack thereof. I invite any comments on this subject. I like discussion. Stimulating conversation turns me on. I read in my book on PE this morning that R. Basson (2001) proposed that women’s sexual desire shifted from the beginning of a relationship and its durationchanged. She noticed that women became sexually neutral after a year or two. They respond to sensing an emotional need of theirselves or their partners and the desire for potential benefits like bonding, love affection, closeness, acceptance or commitment. I am resonating with some truth in that concept.

the tiny, puny cock

2008-09-08T09:39:00.000-07:00

I am going in ten minutes to see a client who is a “submissive” who tops from the bottom in an annoying whiny manner. I pace the house ready and wanting to be done and back.
Now I am back from the appointment and my opinion of him is positive, although he was difficult to remain patient with in the planning stages over the phone.
He began by telling me he had a really small cock and wanted me to humiliate him by commenting on how small it was and teasing him that he could never satisfy me like other men with big cocks could. That was the general premise. On our first (of many subsequent) phone conversation, which lasted half an hour I told him to go jerk off his puny cock after we talked. “Oh that just got me so excited!” he gushed. He tried to initiate more phone conversations, telling me that he had been reading stories online and mistresses gave their subs instructions on how to prepare and he awaited my instructions. On the spur of the moment, two days before his visit, I got an inspired idea of a humiliating chore for him to perform. I knew a sex toy and clothing shop close to his hotel and told him to go in and pick out a pair of ladies panties for himself and to inform the clerk as he was paying that they were for him. “Oh,” he said with delighted horror, ”That will be very embarrassing” I laughed my signature evil laugh. Before he went to the store, he called to tell me how scared he was. This is when I began to lose patience. I have other things to do all day than listen to his dribble. I was short with him and just firmly told him to do as I said. He called me after he bought them to tell me how the clerk made him try the panties on over his pants in the dressing room warning him that he wouldn’t be able to return them. He seemed quite thrilled although his voice portrayed shock. I told him to meet me in the lobby wearing the panties under his pants. “I never did that!” he exclaimed with horror. A couple more phone calls including one to delay the start time which was already late and I felt like cancelling. But his money was already spent (in my plans). I admit I was kinda fascinated by his fetish to be told his dick was incompetent. If I had a less than stellar body part, I surely would not become sexually aroused hearing about it.
I dressed with my ho clothes under my respectable dress to wait in the lobby of the hotel. He came down and looked as expected: straight, asian, casual business attire, young but balding, glasses. We went in the elevator and I started unbuttoning his pants to see his panties. He tried to protect himself but I managed to get a glimpse. Of course I punctuate all my evil deeds with giggles, laughter and typical mistress dialog.
Once in the room he started acting shy and scared, covering his crotch with his hands, not wanting me to see how small his cock was.
Finally, mixing physical force, cajoling and demanding, I got him undressed (with the light turned off and laughed at his tiny cock. “Is it hard?” I asked. “I should have brought a magnifying glass!”
I brought silicon cocks in my bag to show him what “real” cocks looked like. I put them next to his and said sadly, “Well you are about half the size.”
The weird thing was that I knew he wanted me to say this and it turned him on but I felt bad because I wanted to build his self esteem. I wouldn’t have lied and told him he had a big dick, but I would try to encourage him that it wasn’t the focus of sex. I actually had to tell him my conflicted feelings about halfway through. He was the type of person that says “sorry” too much when the situation doesn’t require it. These attributes make me sad. They feel painful to live.
Mr. Top from the Bottom had a list of activities he wanted to do in an hour including me fucking him in the ass, him fucking me, eating pussy (which I took care of immediately and faked one fast). and getting pee into his mouth. I added one more. Him wearing my strap on replete with a dildo, so he could see how it feels to fuck with a bigger cock that could give me pleasure. Fucking him is not worth writing about, it was pretty predictable for a virgin.
When it was time for him to fuck me, He had warned me that even “snugger fit” condoms didn’t fit him. Supposedly he was going to bring finger cots to wear but he didn’t have time to get them. He wanted to fuck so I could tell him how much I couldn’t feel his cock. I said if the snugger fit stays on, then we can. It did. I was happy for him and when I left I pointed to the wrapper that I didn’t throw away and said “I’m leaving that as a souvenir.” We fucked in the three major positions and he kept asking me if I could feel it. I would answer, “I feel something.” (like pressure or movement) That seemed to excite him. Fucking me with the dildo though was quite an experience for him. “Wow I can move farther in and out. so this is how it feels to have a big cock.” After a while I had to say that our hour was up and we still had items on the list so we had to move on. He replied “Sorry”. I took him to the bath tub to get peed on. He was scared. He tried to wiggle out of it but I remembered that he had asked me to force him. I told him to open his mouth and I shot pee into it. He spit it out and I refilled it a couple times. then I finished relieving myself on his cock. He took a shower and jerked off while I repeated how puny and tiny and miniscule his cock was. I said it was as big as my sons’ when he was born. His orgasm seemed very intense. I theorized, “Maybe you have more nerve endings to occupy less space.” Then I tried to figure him out. I said he should have a girlfriend and not waste his brain making up stories that he wasn’t enough for women. I told him about a client whose cock was as small as his who was married with two kids and told me that his wife came from fucking him. That is a true story. I said not every woman wants a big dick, just most. Anyway I thought he was a very sweet man and I am glad I could let his fantasy express itself and I hope it can evolve into greater self awareness and knowledge.

hi y'alls

2008-09-03T00:05:00.000-07:00

it is hard not to write. it has become an addiction. but I have to say when I announce I will stop I only get 3 comments and minimal at that- I am jewish and yes I hope you feel guilty not really but it was not a great argument to convince me. If I felt I was making a difference in anyone’s life, I would contribute. I started writing the blog for myself and then it became a mutual thing to share with an audience. I am thinking about podcasts and learning how to do them. Sometimes all the stories sound to me like the same story repeated ad infinitum. human beings need contact, affirmation, acceptance for who they really are. tonight I felt touched and that i touched other souls. Some people enjoy touching souls and feeling the impact and some people will vote Republican. I doubt anyone who reads my blog will. I listened to their convention alittle. they are morons. Moron is actually a complement to them. So what do I have to say? my energy is being redistributed. I miss writing. I think about telling you stuff that happened that blows my mind. How can I do this for years and still get blown away? I don’t write and the day passes, The next day arrives and there are more things to do and conquer.

theory of relativity

2008-08-23T14:29:00.000-07:00

Perhaps Einstien is not the one to give credit for the theory: Energy follows Thought. Is he? Whoever said it, was right. Where we put energy, we get payoff. I have been putting less energy into this blog and for now that is because I want to put more energy into my next career. Therapy and sex therapy. I have to prioritize if i am ever to succeed at this new career. Plus after close to 300 entries, I think you get the idea. Everybody's looking for something and I provide it with love, interest and compassion. I wanted to give the world a picture of who engaged in selling and buying sex that was more realistic and from my perspective. I wanted to give myself and my clients a humanity that all could feel. A Universality that translates to oneness. We are not 'Us and them'. we are not "the Other" I believe that is the overarching message of this blog. It benefitted me to have a place to vent all that I think about and accrue an audience that was interested and appreciative. I am not saying I will not post again, but I am trying to spend my energy in new venues and see what new avenues that will open for me. I still find each client uniquely fascinating and those that merit mention will have to be documented. Feel free to tell me how much you'll miss me or if what I wanted to convey, was what you got from reading. Also I like answering questions and I will check back here to look for your responses. I'll let you know how things are progressing. I actually feel like you are all rooting for me so that gives me a charge. A big non saliva transferable kiss to y'alls. MP

miscellaneous musings

2008-08-18T00:56:00.000-07:00

I took the weekend off to be a normal person and enjoy my life. I socialized, hung out with my boyfriend and read. I had a great time, with slight traces of guilt mixed with pleasure everytime I ignored my ringing phone. I noticed gas was up to $4.09 so I will keep track of that with the briskness of business. A colleague who I met at one of the professional sex conferences I attended is writing her dissertation on prostitutes experience of stigma. She interviewed me as her pilot study and transcribed our couple hours of conversation. I met with her to discuss her paper and her theories generated by what she learned. I find this discussion of ideas invigorating and I learned more about my own way of being in the world and culture. I partly enjoy my role of a cultural transgressive living outside the margins of what is considered acceptable and normal. I enjoy being rebellious as long as I am acting within what I think is moral and ethical. The amount of energy that I expend in worrying and lying does not enhance my quotient of life satisfaction. I look forward to her doing more interviews and comparing other's experience with my own. My coming out has been a gradual process over years, each time deciding why and how I should reveal my truth in various situations. I decided early on that "friends" were only valuable if they liked me for who I really was.

I was reminiscing today about the first time I saw a picture of a woman sucking a cock. My friend and I spied in her father's room and found a porno magazine. I think we were in 4th grade. The picture of a cock in the woman's mouth was unbelievable to me. I said to my friend," I don't believe she is doing that. I bet she put saran wrap on it first." I remember the first time a man wanted to go down on me. I was 15. His face was in the vicinity of my pussy and I said, "Don't." He asked, "Why not?" I replied, "Because you'll throw up." to which he laughed and proved me wrong. I remember the elation I felt the first time a boy touched my breast. I felt it for days.

I am reading a great book called "Mating in Captivity" (i love the title) by Esther Perel. she is a sex therapist who questions how desire can stay alive after years of marriage and shared mundane tasks. In anecdotal stories she helps her clients unravel what is behind their erotic desires or lack there of. I wish I could download her brain and practice therapy with it.

Gas $3.99

2008-08-15T00:37:00.001-07:00

The price of gas fell a tad and business picked up. Is there a correlation? I don’t know but it feels good to not worry. I saw three today spaced at reasonable intervals. The first was someone that knows other people I know and was concerned about discretion and confidentiality which I assured him. I am scared to write much about him actually because what I would write would be a big clue. Grrr I hate the stigma associated with participation in sex for money: pervasive, omnipresent, useless. As I was cleaning up from him and getting ready for yoga, this fantasy goes through my mind, What if my yoga teacher asks me what I did (for a living) What would I say? I could say therapist but for some reason, I feel like an imposter at that job, so I thought I would tell him I’m a sexistential detective. I get to yoga alittle early and the teacher walks up to me smiling and says, “You know I realized I don’t know what you do.” I told him as planned that I was a sexistential detective. It is a better response that escort, prostitute or sensual massage which I have responded to other inquirers. He was curious and kinda guessed what it was I did and I agreed and added “experientially”. He said “Wow you must have professional boundaries.” We all have boundaries so I said I found the biggest challenge was in being present. “I have such interesting people in my yoga class,” he marveled. I thought about that a couple more times during the class when I was supposed to be paying attention to my breath. After yoga I saw a lovely young man. A recent post I wrote on a review board that kinda showed off my intellectual capacity was what drew him toward me. He asked me if I had ever studied psychology. I said Yes. I didn’t brag that I had a masters degree. Then I went home passing the store on the way to hang out with my boyfriend and dog before my weekly Mac lesson. I learned about the ipod and all the free podcasts I can download. Often I feel blown away by the extent and beauty of technology. Mosquitoes are biting me. Next I had one more client for 1.5 hours. He came three times. Once in my mouth but with a condom on. Once in “doggie” which he doesn’t get at home. and once with my cock buried up his butt. I drizzled his cock and balls with silicon lube and marinated his butthole with Maxim (a nice thick glycerin based one) then I stuffed him with latex encased silicon. He left very contentedly relaxed and went back to his family with two young children. I saw him a year ago. I might have wrote about it here, but we both remembered how the reservoir tip on the condom makes me gag and I even threw up on him (just a little) last time. “And you came back!” I laughed.

overlapping circles

2008-08-10T12:36:00.000-07:00

I have had this client for many years, not exclusively but consistently. He is married and has a good job, grown children. He enjoys being humiliated in different ways. Often we do a role play where I am a woman from his office who threatens to out him to somebody higher up in his office. I will out him for being a faggot and having big titties and also for liking to get fucked in the ass; basically for being my bitch. This fear element and blackmail turns him on. Last time I asked how his work was going (to tell this story without any definitive clues as to his identity is hard) He tells me about a struggle he is having with another professional group of people. I casually ask if he knows a woman who I know works in that area. Turns out it is her that he is struggling with in this issue. What a coincidence I marvel, how worlds collide. I don’t keep in touch with that woman anymore, although I do like her. I knew her from being in a therapy group with her, also considered an ethically confidential area. I am bound not to tell either of them about the other and that isn’t going to be difficult for me although the fantasy of telling her what a kinky freak he is, is tempting. Since then the client has been obsessing over the fact that I know this woman and it turns him on. He can’t stop calling me and half the time when I see his number, I don’t answer. Finally I call him back and because he is out of town till the end of the month, he begs me for a phone session. I remind him that I don’t do phone sex because I like to make good money for my time. Phone sex is considerably less. He calls back offering $75. for 20 minutes of talk. This is actually a good rate. He must be desperate. I tell my boyfriend the request. “Why don’t you just do it right now.” he suggests. He wants to listen to me. I make him promise not to laugh and he assures me he won’t. I call my client and start making up a story where I am going to invite my friend over while I am sucking his big tits and fucking his slutty ass and when she sees what a bitch he is he will be ruined professionally. “ You can’t do that.” he says to me. I can imagine his face when he is in the midst of this fantasy. He is wearing a new sports bra that he bought today and pulling his cock rapidly in short strokes. “I can do anything I want. I never signed a contract with you.” I tease and punctuate with my evil laugh. Then, “What are you doing right now?” Though I already know the answer, I just want to make him say it. He hesitates. “Stroking my cock.” “That tiny thing! I know you can’t help it you faggot bitch. Thinking about getting your ass fucked in front of ____ turns you on, doesn’t it?” “Yes.” he admits. After like 10 minutes, I hear a mixed moan and sigh. “Did you come?” I ask. “Yes.” I tell him I owe him 10 minutes and we are done. My boyfriend enjoyed listening as he also surfed online. He still is pondering how somebody can get turned on by the situation we were creating.

life is good

2008-08-05T23:57:00.001-07:00

“Life is good.” I said out loud as I threw the ball for my dog to retrieve in the lake.The sun was shining. I had my first client scheduled for 10. I could think of a ton of reasons why I felt good. That phrase is something one of my longtime clients always says, without fail, after a session. Miraculously I remembered his number and I called wanting to share my sentiments with him. I left him a VM. He called me back and was so happy I thought of him in that way. It feels like I have community in this profession. These people are my clients but they are also “friends”. Today I saw 4! I might have enough for health insurance this month and the dentist. Two were repeat regulars who on this theme of friends, share recipes, stories about their kids and interest in my life. We share our hour and go back to our lives. Another one I had seen before, but I didn’t remember what he liked. He kindled a vague memory of annoyance in me. I rediscovered that he likes to lick assholes. After he does it his face is all messy and wet. He thinks he will kiss me with that face. I politely declined. He used alot of mouthwash post the act. He licked his come off my tits which actually happened again in the subsequent session. What are the chances of that? I remember the first time a client told me he wanted me to make him eat his come. I thought it was unusual and I am surprised how many times I have heard it since. The most interesting character was an out of town gentleman who arrived in a taxi. I offered him wine, did some suggestive preliminary foreshadowings, and had him lay face down for a massage. I noticed immediately that he had a very big hemmoroid. He couldn’t keep still for long and turned over. Being a hot day, I had ice nearby and put it in my mouth using the alternation between hot and cold to startle and rev him. He was putty in my hands. We moved to a more comfortable setting and he told me to talk to him. Guess what he liked to talk about? (clue: homoerotic) sucking dicks, swallowing come and eating pussy. All forms of debauchery. I tell a good story because I visualize it while I make it up. He said he tells nobody the things we imagined. He used all kinds of superlatives to describe me. He did like my finger and a vibrating toy in his butt while he was otherwise stimulated. I drove him back in my not enviable car and learned he was rich. He invited me for a drink at his hotel which looked pretty swanky. I was tempted, but I had to watch a video on chemical dependency which I think will help my therapy clients tomorrow.

start the week right

2008-08-04T23:30:00.000-07:00

I noticed in therapy two areas that I can assess myself on progress. One is the ability to swim in the here and now of the relationship as it exists in the room. With the power differential inherent in the therapist-client relationship and the probability that the client has not experienced many deeply fulfilling interpersonal relationships I am a target for projections. I have to be comfortable enough to talk about these when they arise because they are juicy. The second area is paying attention to the patterns of what they choose to talk about and make connections instead of being hooked into the content and details of any story. I tried to play both sides today as I listened to two long time clients. They are “misfits” in the world, I find them both beautiful. I clearly see the beauty of their heart and its yearning. Perhaps we are alike and that is why they have been my clients for a year or two. They are both poor and paying to see me is alot of effort and they do. I am moved by them. I think about them beyond the time they spend in my presence.

Then I got a call to be “naughty.” I find that word repulsive when used to describe sex because sex is beautiful and natural, but I know it gives some people a thrill to think of it in those terms. This guy wanted to do a role play with me which was out of character for him. The role play was that I was giving him a “regular” massage but I wanted more and I seduce him. This is a common role play request. You guys know that I am bossy- right. Well this guy needed an acting coach and I assumed the position. He asks the masseuse “Can I touch you?” I said, “You would be scared to ask that so act scared.” I can’t play my role of a B movie actress if they are a D movie actor. A couple times I corrected him on his lines and actions. I like the tension in the scene he described so don’t wreck it by not letting that evolve. But ultimately he is an old, fat, boring guy and I don’t want him. So I am a great actress. He asked me about the size of his cock today. I lie about some things, but not this. I said his cock was fat and that fat was good because it pulled the lips which then pull on the clit. This is true and if he believes it the odds are greater that he will attract a woman who will find this man perfect. His wife of course doesn’t and never wants to fuck him. He asks after he fucks me “Do you think I have what it takes to satisfy a woman/” The insecurity inherent in that question is painful for me to imagine him carrying. I say, “Why do you think that? because your wife doesn’t want to have sex with you? that is about her- not you. I think you can satisfy a woman.” He told me he was planning to move out of his wife’s house. If that happens, I will be amazed. As much as he complains about her everytime I see him. He apologizes for making me listen to all his problems. Little does he know how much I love to hear all that stuff.
the next guy was new to me, overly polite even asking me what attire he should wear for his visit as to not offend my neighbors. He opted for pants instead of shorts to be safe. When I don’t know somebody I usually ask about their ejaculatory control. If they are very quick to ejaculate, I would rather get the first one over with and then massage them and enjoy round two. He said that was a good idea. During our interlude he told me he liked “dirty talk” about pussies and cocks. I was happy to oblige. Then I told him a theory I am not sure is true but it might be. I said I thought all men were curious about what it would be like to suck a cock, but that most of them were feeling homophobic so they wouldn’t admit it. This should generate a lively discussion. This galvanized him and he admitted to having sucked cock before and enjoyed it although it is not his main focus. He also loves to eat pussy. This gave me plenty to talk about.
Then Mr. Quickie visited who calls from a restricted number, is spur of the moment and stays and pays for only half an hour. He chews gum the whole time and tries to ply me for information of my two girls experiences. So today I made good money and was home before 5 to enjoy my yard, dog and the sun.

I like the anomolies

2008-08-03T19:01:00.000-07:00

He had written me 4 chapters about our upcoming encounter giving me plenty of clues of what I would say to humiliate him, names to call him (girl) and ways to prove I was stronger than him. When he arrived he was trembling,... seriously. I followed the script and greeted him in a robe with leopard underwear underneath and ankle boots. “Welcome to the Wrestling club.” Once in my room, I shed the robe and flexed my biceps. “Oh my God” he cried his eyes tearing, and dropped to his knees begging to worship me.
I recalled my lines and slipped on my queen bitch attitude. For two hours I alternately demonstrated my strength, laughed at his weakness, called him a wimpy little girl bitch while allowing him to worship my biceps, my abs, my legs front and back. I made him open his mouth and I spit into it and made him swallow. I slapped his face. I squeezed his head between my thighs until he tapped out. I giggled with a sinister undertone and made him repeat that I was superior and stronger and that he was a little girl bitch. I fucked him in the ass (why not?) he had a hemmoroid but that didn’t deter me. “I’m really a normal guy besides acting like this.” he assured me.He was completely into this scenario, feeling his emotions strongly and enjoying the paradox of dread and thrill simultaneously..

I had spoken on the phone to my second client who was from out of town. I was to join him at his hotel. He had informed me that he liked lingerie, long legs and high heels. I brought with me a whole bunch of outfits I expected to model for him. Over the phone he told me he, “liked to have fun.” Like that explains anything. When I arrived the first thing I noticed was his youth by at least 10 years and he seemed quite nervous. He asked, “How are you?” three times in a row. He was wearing the hotel robe. I tried to show him all my different outfits but I could feel vibrationally that he wasn’t interested. If I could mindread him here and know what he was thinking. was it “Oh she isn’t as hot as I imagined, I don’t want to look at her.” or “I feel guilty (I spied a wedding ring) why did I ask her here. i just want her to leave” or “I’m so uncomfortable with my own desire, I just can’t stand it.” or something I can’t even fathom. He placed himself on the bed for a massage. I barely got started but I could feel he wasn’t into that either. He was ticklish and just plain ansty. He voluntrily turned over and kept guarding his cock so I couldn’t touch it. Why? I wondered so I asked. The answer was he would come in one second. “When did you last come?” i asked and he replied a week ago. Maybe you should have done yourself last night, I suggested. I avoided his cock and played with his chest, groin and balls. In about 3 minutes he asked, “Want to watch me spank it?” I replied yes imagining some slapping or some version of spank. Then I remembered the phrase “spanking the monkey” which means jerking off which is what he meant so he did and came in big quantities shooting all over his stomach. His face registered disgust with the mess he made, so I offered to bring him a hot washcloth to clean up. I would have happily stayed and got him off again but he was all too eager to get riid of me. He immediately oicked up his phone and started fidgeting with it. I took the money feeling a tad guilty. That was the quickest job I ever did.

slow sweet sunday

2008-07-27T23:00:00.000-07:00

Parellel processing is a term therapists use to describe when we recognize the client’s struggle and our own to have similar components. We do not tell this to the client but we notice our own experience and attend to it so that we do not contaminate the unique experience of the client with our own projections. Therapy is a very ethical profession.
Today I saw my sex clients as struggling with wanting to feel confident and competent as lovers yes allowing me to lead them there. I want to feel confident and competent as a therapist yet until I do, I am transparent I think in showing my uncertainty to my therapy clients.

Today I saw a guy who is a self described geek. but I like geeks and feel like one myself. His new Tommy Hilfiger sandals squeak excessively as he walks in smiling a lot. He has red hair with a reddish skin tone and glasses. Not handsome but not in bad physical shape. He does not share with me using emotional language or let me know what is really going on with him besides “good.” Sex is the closest he can get to sharing himself in an intimate way.
I have known him like 8 years and he is not my regular but I have seen him over time. I haven’t seen him in 1.5 years. He looks the same and I tell him. “Do I look the same?” I ask him. “Yes,” he says. “Don’t I look better?” I tease him also trying to clue him in on what would be an even more snazzy opening line. I do look good if I say so myself. We go upstairs and he loves jazz. I turned him on to Miles Davis Tutu years ago which he always reminds me. He brought some CD to share and after giving my dog her required pets, he began to undress. He keeps trying to kiss me and it is just unpleasant to me. I feel claustrophobic with that minimal distance in front of my nose. I actually told him I felt this way a little later.
“I notice you like to kiss.”
“yes”
“why?”
“it feels teasing and sensual and connected.”
“Where is your next favorite area to feel connected?”
“Pussy.”
“what do you like about that?”
“Being able to participate in ladies enjoying themselves.”
of course
I let him eat me and try to give directions so it will feel good. I give up after three suggestions. It feels too bossy to keep correcting him. I don’t even want to come so what is my only option? to fake it which I hope I am good at. He feels all proud of himself after that. I don’t blame him. I try to teach him a new trick or two that have nothing to do with genitals but ore to do with expressing desire, strength and some movements which I feel hot when my boyfriend does them. I don’t feel hot when he does them, but I say that I do and I hope he will try these moves and expand on them with his current girlfriend.
After he comes we talk. He asks me how practicing therapy is going and I tell him an extended version of what I think and what is difficult (having judgments) He then shares with me his difficulties he has as a doctor when people don’t take their meds as prescribed and when he has to tell them a serious diagnosis that they will have for the rest of their life. I am finding him fascinating. He apologized at one point for being too much of a geek which I said was not the case. I said it sounded like his clients needed to see me and I should give him my cards. It was true but also a joke. He says he noticed that people with chronic pain often have traumatic childhoods and PTSD. I found that a fascinating correlation and wonder as to the sharing of research across professions.
I enjoyed this guy because although I was not authentic in some ways, I was in other ways.
The second guy was an outcall. He comes to this city once a year. I saw him last year at the same hotel. He emailed me in advance to make this date. He loves to eat pussy and thinks he is great at it. I couldn’t get into it and made some corrections like the usual lighter/ slower and still felt on a scale from one to ten and ten is orgasm, like I couldn’t get beyond 4. So after trying to focus, I gave up and faked it. He was proud of himself and then he came up to put his face next to mine and it was all wet with spit or pussy juice or both. That was very unappealing to me and I asked him to wash. Then I sucked his dick very slowly combined with balls and finger to asshole attention but not prostate. He is in the business of wine and he loves it. He had some interesting theories that humans need a source of discontent in their lives or they wouldn’t be able to feel joy, For him travel is the bane of his existence. I remembered about him that he got on my nerves and that when I was able to overcome it, I liked him. that played out again this year. He gets on my nerves meaning I want to respond sarcastically to him for the first half of the hour and then something I don’t know what clicks off in me and I see him as just a regular person with wants and needs like the rest of us.

the bitch is back

2008-07-27T01:14:00.001-07:00

I have noticed some clients really love to eat pussy. I had one yesterday, today and scheduled for tomorrow as well. I would not be one of those type of clients. I don’t really think it is that fun to lick an area the size of a quarter for endless amounts of time while my body is very uncomfortable and I can’t tell what is happening. Plus as my son used to say, “Its slimy.” Sucking a dick is fun for about 5 -10 minutes and then I have had enough. My body is tired of all these extended positions I have to assume to do my job. My hips hurt from being on top. I bet I’ll need a hip replacement some day. Back to my point. The pussy becomes almost a fetishistic object. I imagine it is the “Otherness” of the woman’s genitals that so attracts them. I often think it looks like a sea creature when it is first exposed. I do like to look at them and I like to stick my finger inside and feel how sweet, soft and warm it is. Then there are clients who are very focused on cock like the ones in my last entry or their own cock and how it looks. I remember a guy from years ago when I worked in a massage parlor. A balding, fat, aging, truck driver. He’d turn on the florescent lights and get naked standing in front of the mirror admiring his cock. When I’d come in the room, he’d be there with it oiled up, stroking it, proud as a parent and complimenting it’s size and strength asking me if I agreed. Of course I did!
Then there are men who like big or small boobs. I attract because of my body type those clients who like small boobs, tall women or muscular women. Some want to feel physically overpowered and consequently humiliated by a female. It happens often enough that I see it as a type. I have one of those scheduled for next week. He is writing me scripts to inform me of the flavor of the scene. I wrestle him and pin him and win. Then I tease and taunt him that he is weak and beat by a girl. He likes the mix of dread and excitement. In the story he has written, I am a selfish woman who fulfills her whims at his expense. I enjoy playing a character with these attributes. Doing whatever I please like slapping his face, like smothering him, like punching him in the stomach, kicking him in the balls, paddling his ass. This is a turn on for some guys and I am curious about its etymology. Assuming this role challenges me to become someone who only cares about her own wants and needs. I think the experiential enactment of this persona helps me balance those tendencies in myself. Usually I am performing to please the other. It is an interesting paradox to embody a personality of complete selfishness to play my role. even though this act of selfishness is to please them. I remember a very involved scenario I played years ago with a man who wanted me dressed in a catsuit and high heels clicking all over a wood floor. There was only one hotel in the city we could rent for this purpose (that had wood floors). I had to put lipstick on multiple times (like 100) over the course of the evening and in a childish way lord over him the fact that he loved watching me put it on and kissing him with it. I felt like a spoiled brat the whole time I was playing and I enjoyed being encouraged to flow with this attitude. Similar to when I played the spit drop game the other day with a client because he said he liked it. I used to torment my sister with that game. Nobody I ever met likes that game and since I am a mature adult, I hold in my desire to torture people and try not to cross their boundaries. Then to be asked and paid to be as bitchy and bratty as possible is the ultimate escape and freedom for my shadow side.

homoerotica

2008-07-25T00:47:00.000-07:00

The other day I went to a hotel early afternoon dressed in a lovely new frock and lace up heeled sandals. I looked good but not whorish. I never look like a whore (whatever that means) but to me it means a flashing neon light that announces I AM SEXY. Another client called me as I was walking to the hotel to tell me my dress was cute as he saw me as he drove by. I arrive to find a guy who is in good shape, in his low 40’s, with hair, a crisp white shirt and a smile. I judged him to be nervous because he repeated statements like “I’m so glad you could make it.” Once I started massaging him he reiterated how great my hands were like 10 times. When I asked him to turn over his cock was already hard. He admired it and I took that as a clue as to what my contribution to the conversation should be. “Yes it is sooooo hard.” I felt very erudite. “Do you like my hard cock?” Leaves little room for creativity but, “Oh yes I want to _____it.” any verb can fit here fuck, suck, stroke, lick. He said he loved pleasure and soon was talking about getting fucked by a cock and also sucking my cock. Luckily I had brought my accessories. I put a glove on and lubed it up to check his anal relaxation capacity. It was a very tight squeeze but I went slow encouraging him to breathe into the muscle, into my finger. It did not change much and I decided he wasn’t going to get a cock in that orifice. He could practice cocksucking instead. I strapped up and applied a condom to my lavender silicon buddy. I slapped his thigh to display my power. As he lay on his back I straddled his shoulders and rubbed it over his mouth. “Lick it “ I commanded. He obeyed with relish. “Now take it in your mouth” which he did swallowing it more than halfway. I praised him for being such a good cock sucker and he continued bobbing slowly up and down the length. the story stops here because I can’t remember anything else.

His fantasy was to be dominated as a 13 year old boy. I was the older woman possibly “Mommy” and I would initiate him into the pleasures of his body. In our phone conversations I detected an accent so I was expecting an Asian guy, but he was a large eastern European man. He was “embarrassed” he said as he lowered his head and closed his eyes. It was endearing. I talked very sweetly to him as I would a young child assuring him that he had nothing to be embarrassed about and that God gave people bodies to be enjoyed. I helped him take off his clothes and his cock was making a tent of his boxers, which of course made him embarrassed. I told him that it was lovely and I was glad to see it so extended. I took off my dress and he gasped to see my breasts. (I don’t often get that reaction) I took his hands and put them to cup my breasts. He was grateful and went immediately to suck them. I told him he was a good boy and doing a very nice job. “Is it okay?” he asked in a timid whisper. “Yes it is just what I want you to do.” I encouraged. The session continued in this way. A question he asked clued me in to another aspect of his fantasy. “Are you going to share me with others?” “Yes darling, I am getting you ready so you will know how to please my friends when they come over later. We are going to enjoy you and be pleasured by you.” And men too?” he asked faking fear. “Men too, so you will have to learn to give your ass to men as well as suck their cocks very well.” He gasped in excited horror. And that is a snapshot because I didn’t write right away, Too much new information comes in and I forget easily.

maybe this is boring....

2008-07-21T16:51:00.000-07:00

The morning is full of running around the house trying to get things done. annoying phone calls, renewals of work insurance, house insurance, computer craparama etc. it all costs money. Worrying about money is like spinning my wheels. I respond to emails so I seem responsible and prepare for the day. Remember more things I have to do. When I read emails from colleagues and see that they are doing more in the community than I am, they are teaching sex topics and becoming known, experimenting with workshops, putting themselves out there. My reaction is to go to a familiar space of self hate, a pity party where I can seeth that nobody reaches out to me or thinks I’m great and so that must mean I’m not and I am mediocre. Even as I wallow part of me knows this is bullshit. What should I do? I ask myself. Other people feel more sure of themselves. My ideas are valid, but I don’t act on them. I am scared. I see friends of mine on biznik in both categories of work. I don’t aspire to be on biznik, but I see them taking themselves seriously as professionals and trying to network. I feel overwhelmed with it all cause chasing the dollar, chasing self growth, having a relationship, finding time to relax and then building a new entity from nothing has to go on my list. I feel scared. I will eat butter today and see what that brings.
Buttered up:
I worked as an sexistential detective today. I feel engaged, tired, exhilarated, pleased. excited. I like this venue better than my usual work of entertaining. My clients and I share the same issues to varying degrees.
The first guy, I have seen a couple of times usually he pays me just to talk. He is “numb” in his body. Conversation with him is very tangential and goes from the “I” to the collective we and thruout history. For example: I say something like “lets look into each others eyes and not talk for a minute and see how that feels.” He- “I think I avoid looking into people’s eyes and I’ve noticed that most people do that in fact in the 1800’s a woman’s wrist was considered very erotic because ti was rarely seen.” I know the concept of here and now. I try to keep us there but allow him space and freedom every so often. The there and then can hold important parts of us. I kept asking where he felt any stimulation. His mind created it and fed it to his body. I tried different modalities: dirty talk “ I’m going to have you lie down and stand over you and let a parabola of pee fall on you. aiming mostly in your mouth but much of it will splash over your face.” When I ask him how did it feel to hear that? My goal is inquiry into self in the here and now during intimate interaction with the other. Our goal is to noticing the process. This is part of mindfuness. Everytime he noticed something about himself he went to the collective “men” or “people” all feel like this when....” I caught this tendency and pointed it out. We laughed. He then continued, “well doesn’t everyone want to feel that they are normal?” “do YOU want to feel that YOU are normal?” “yes!!!!”
I played a little game of jeopardy with him. “OK now give me guilt for $100.” What is your biggest guilt over being here and enjoying yourself with me. “My wife” Very good now guilt for $50 what is your second biggest. “Getting caught and hurting her again.” Excellent now can we have guilt for $30. “That my sexual desires are unacceptable.” Very good you have passed human programming with flying colors.
“I am very destructive,” he warns me. “I always destroy what I really want (long term relationships/love) because I can’t control myself.” What an interesting story His character- a dark psycho doomed to a life of misery.
He can’t feel pleasure unless he feels in service of my pleasure /desire. For example he would enjoy licking my ass and smelling it but only if I want him to and don’t give a shit whether he likes it. I realized that I had never smelled an ass. What’s so great about it? I remember a lovely crotch smell of sweet sweat coming from balls. He likes to play the spit game children play where I hold him down and threaten him with spit dropping onto his face. I like that game. He dodged my spit when it dropped.

After two hours, I told him I felt closer to him this time than other times. He tried to match my sentiments, but I am not convinced he really felt the same way. I have to come back to working with him on that; the practice of being okay to stand in who you really are. Therapeutically, I call that “differentiation.”
Before he came in I imagined what I would ask him, how I would handle him. I wrote down these questions. 1. What causes you to feel sexual desire and arousal and what gets in your way?
2. Is your path to arousal and orgasm always the same (core themes) or is it different and could it be even richer (more ingredients, variations, levels, pathways and tangents)?
He came in and I noticed two things. 1.His nervousness was palpable. 2. He was extremely young and good looking. Young equals 15 years younger than me and good looking in this would probably be a belief shared by other people. He resembles a young boy I feel motherly toward whom I have known since he was 7. Mother, sister, baby, archetype, lover, I think we flit around the spectrum of relational tendencies in relationship and often in sex play, giving and receiving.
He asks me about my sexual desire and how I feel it. “Why do you want to know?” I respond. He assures me that his question was not meant to pry and asserts that I have the right not to answer, but he was interested. I want to know why he is interested. Does my desire affect his? Is mine necessary to fuel him? What shows desire and where is it? Is it localized in the genitals or does it share with the rest of the body mind and spirit? He says he thinks he can feel my desire. As I take assume physical stances, I ask him how each feels. I cradle him like a baby. I put his legs up over his shoulders and press my pelvis to his ass. I bend him over the table, grabbing his hips. He has no word for his cock. How did he refer to “it”? I asked him what word he called it. That was a difficult question and he settled on penis.
I felt like sucking it. I felt like fucking it but that was a momentary fleeting idea. The desire to caress it with my mouth would repeat and assert and I would notice it, announce it and refrain. I need to train myself not to automatically go there. I wanted to lick his balls. I wanted more ways to stroke his cock with my hands and skin. variations are putting it on my breast, my neck,
I kept him focused on himself and his physical body for a long time gradually pulling him closer and closer to an explosive finish. My hands deliberately went slow as they could barely touching his cock that was straining to release. I enjoy my power, announce that I am enjoying it. Will you enjoy watching me come he asked. Yes but not necessarily more than I enjoy watching you get aroused.
After he came... he talked about his recent addition of a baby to his family and how that is affecting the relational equation in strange ways. It is making him and his needs less important and all the giving and helping he is doing is making his needs more acute and sharp and denied. “I guess that is why I am here.” he said and went on to give me a defensive explanation of selfishness. Selfishness to hear people describe it is like the biggest, baddest quality anybody could own. He needed to pay attention to himself and be seen for all that he is trying to do to contribute to his family. He is very self absorbed though, I notice this all as he talks.
When I am done the day, I have spent more energy than usual focusing on who the person is. Trying to fake orgasm is a kind of energy expenditure that is not inherently valuable to me but today seems like I was present in my heart and body and spirit with people. It seems like I combined all my years of experience and education to hold and engage with people who need me and what I offer. I was happy that I could go home to my boyfriend and not feel like he shared my mouth and pussy with other men. I felt better than I usually feel in therapy or sex work because I felt the combination of these disciplines experientially in action.