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Interesting Thought for the Day

September 9, 2008

From a conversation with a friend:

I got myself off in the bathroom a few minutes ago because I was *incredibly* horny and I couldn’t get the dirty thoughts out of my head. I’ve had a couple of the men here hit on me, and hover around me since. I’m wondering if they can subconsciously sense the sexual gratification oozing out of me. 

Alexa’s Update # 11

September 8, 2008

Well, I got back Tuesday morning from Fort Lauderdale, as most of you have probably read.  I am still having Nikki withdrawals.

Let’s see what’s going on in Alexa-town this week…

My father is considering getting a tummy tuck, according to my mother.  lmao  He’s always been fit (he has incredibly sexy, runner’s legs and butt, though I’ve never told him that), but I guess age is setting in and causing him to have more tummy than he wants.   Apparently, you can get them on an outpatient basis for about three or four thousand dollars these days.

My classes are very interesting, and there’s a lot of intelligent, well-read people in them.  This is going better than I’d anticipated, and I am enjoying the heavy reading and class discussions.  The students in graduate courses appear, at this point anyway, to be much more…mature than the undergrad ones. 

Is there any other woman who just loves to have their head pushed down into the bed, face down, and just railed from behind?  I mean, just, god damn.

*fans self*

Client Updates:

I’ve seen Rick twice this week.  I toyed with him a bit on Wednesday, based on a conversation I’d had with one of my friends.  She said she’d love fuck me right after I’d had sex with a man, and eat his cum out of my cunt (trust me, she’s a freak, too!).  I told her I was going to tell him that, that I bet he’d really get off on that.  In order to do that, though, I’d have to let him fuck me bareback, without a condom.  I’ve been seeing Rick for several weeks now, and I am comfortable enough with him to allow him to do that.

So when I went in Wednesday morning, I told him that I had a female client who had a special request, and outlined to him what I described above.  Needless to say, he found that to be very arousing.  We only have about 15-30 minutes each morning before his staff starts showing up, so I quickly got him hard with some oral attention, and then sat on his desk, and told him to fuck me, but skip the condom.  He couldn’t believe his ears.  He penetrated me and after only about 10 thrusts, came hard inside me.  I got a pad out of my purse, put it in my panties, put them back on, pulled my skirt back on and headed out the door.

Of course, I just went home and showered and did nothing with any woman after I left him, but he didn’t know that.  Thursday, when I went back to see him, he asked me how it went.  I made up some stuff about her lapping his cum out of my cunt as soon as I walked into her hotel room.  That got him all hot and bothered, and he wanted to know if we could “go somewhere” for some extended fun.  I had no commitments so I said, “sure.”  He took me to a hotel down the street, checked in, came and got me, and we spent four hours fucking.  Bareback, of course.

One of the points I made in my post on decriminalization of prostitution is that prostitutes should be allowed to decide for themselves if they want to require condoms, rather than making it a state law, and that’s how I feel.  If a prostitute gets to a point with a regular client where s/he feels comfortable not using protection, then I think they ought to be able to go that route.  I am at such a place with Rick.  I’d never do that with a new client, of course.  In Nevada, where prostitution is legal in many places, they require the use of condoms for all penetrative activities.  I understand the rationale, but I think the provider is in a better position to decide what level of protection is necessary.  Obviously, s/he’s not going to take any unnecessary chances.

I also had my blow-bang/bukkake party Saturday afternoon - the one I’d referred to about a month ago.  I got paid to blow 10 guys and allow them to cum anywhere they wanted.  It started out quite awkwardly, but got better as the afternoon wore on.  Surprisingly, my mouth and throat didn’t get sore.  lol  Anyway, I’ll be writing about what happened with this and should have it up in a couple of days, depending on how much time I have to put in for classes this week.

Other stuff:

Last Wednesday between classes, I perused some of the stores in the mall.  I came across one that was selling some unique clubwear and accessories.  I bought a wild new dress to go clubbing in.  It is a open-weave fishnet, off-the-shoulder mini tube dress, with a matching bra and thong.  There’s not much to it, but in the club I go to, I’ll actually be overdressed compared to some people. 

And, apparently, my blog is written at a post-graduate level. 

That’s all for this week, so far. Like I said, keep your eyes open for my account of the blow-bang. Have a great week.

Penetrate Me

September 2, 2008

Penetrate: [pen-i-treyt]: to pierce or pass into or through; to enter the interior of; to have a deep effect or impact on someone.

Penetrate, from L. penetratus, pp. of penetrare “to put or get into, enter into,” related to penitus “within, inmost,” penus “innermost part of a temple, store of food,” penates “household gods.” Penetration is first attested 1605, from L. penetrationem (nom. penetratio) “a penetrating or piercing,” from penetrare. The sexual sense is attested from 1613. Penetrating in the fig. sense of “touching the feelings intensely” is attested from 1632.  [Source]

Penetrate is one of my favorite words.  It not only sounds sensual coming out of someone’s mouth, but it carries such a vaguely erotic undertone when someone uses it even innocuously. Someone can be discussing a subject wholly unrelated to sex and the word will cause my ears to become erect, much like a rabbit’s when he hears something unfamiliar.  For example, weather experts will talk about tornadoes and the damage they can cause.  They’ll often mention that 2 x 4s can be hurled through the air at a high speed sufficient to allow them to penetrate brick walls.  My ears rise up at the very mention of the word and it immediately, if only momentarily, transfers me into a sexual frame of mind.

Used erotically, “penetrate me” carries a significant emotional thrust over and above the physical manifestation it immediately presents to one’s mind.  It means more than just “fuck me” - it literally means to come inside, deeply, extending past the physical into my spirit, my soul.

When I tell someone to penetrate me, I am telling them I want them inside me, physically, intellectually, emotionally, spiritually.  I can tell someone to fuck me and that’s what I’ll get; physically enjoyable, but it won’t extend into my soul.   And though I may enjoy being fucked, I enjoy being penetrated on a much higher plane.

You can penetrate me physically, of course, with your fingers, with your tongue, with your…cock.

You can penetrate me intellectually, engaging me in reasoned, thought-provoking conversation.

You can penetrate me emotionally, by making contact with those special spots in my psyche that resonate with the illogical components of my person.

You can penetrate me spiritually, touching me in just the right way, looking deep into my eyes, engaging my inner being.

Even used far into one’s sexual experience, it still has an aura of that initial entry.  When you lie back and spread your legs, and allow the head of that cock to push into your cunt, to penetrate your cunt, there’s an adrenaline rush as it enters, as it penetrates you.  When that rush infects your soul, your spirit, your being, you’ll understand the true nature of penetration.

Yes, I love being penetrated.

Decriminalization vs. Legalization

August 26, 2008

There’s been a lot of discussion in a variety of different venues over the past several years with respect to legalizing prostitution to one degree or another.  Just about everyone is familiar with the fact that prostitution is illegal in the U.S. with the exception of some places in Nevada.  You may not be aware that the exchange of sex for money is legal in Rhode Island as well, though that is largely the result of a loophole in the state law outlawing prostitution at large (it specifically outlaws solicitation on the street and the operation of brothels, but makes no mention of the exchange of sex for money in a private setting, and therefore private prostitution is technically legal).

I’ve been involved in several raucous classroom discussions about whether or not sex in exchange for something of value ought to be legal, and some of them have involved very heated exchanges between those who favor legalization and those who believe it ought to remain illegal.  In every one of those cases, believe it or not, the overwhelming majority of people in the class favored making it legal.  And, interestingly, more women (in my classes) have been in favor of legalization than men.

There are two approaches to the legalization of prostitution that many people tend to conflate with one another, though the differences between the terminology of the two is mostly one of semantics.  But many sex work advocacy organizations do differentiate between the two, and I am inclined to do as well to make the differences easier to discuss.

The first of these two approaches is legalization.  Legalization, as it is used by most advocates involves making prostitution patently legal and developing a regulatory scheme to control and tax it.  This is the way it is done in Nevada.  Any county with a population of less than 400K (which is every county except for those where Las Vegas and Reno are located) is free to allow brothels to operate, and to set up rules and regulations to control how the brothels and those who work in them operate.  And there are tons of rules governing everything from the licensing of the prostitutes to specific sex acts that are prohibited.

The other approach is known as decriminalization.  This involves simply doing away with the statutes outlawing prostitution.  This is the approach favored by most advocates because it removes the necessity of having the state act as a “pimp” and controlling or extorting money from individual sex workers (usually through requiring the purchase of expensive “licenses”).  Technically speaking, the situation in Rhode Island is akin to decriminalization, albeit unintentionally.  (To Rhode Island’s credit, though, the state legislature has resisted several attempts to close the loophole).

The major difference between the two is that with the latter there are no prostitution-specific regulations imposed by the state. Rather, regulation of the industry is accomplished primarily through existing statutes and regulations covering employment and public health (for example).

There are pros and cons to both approaches, and where you fall typically has something to do with the role you believe the government ought to play in prostitution. Many people believe government having any role at all infringes upon the rights of the workers to earn a living in a manner of their choosing, while there are others who see it as a legitimate role of government to ensure the integrity and safety of the work itself, those who perform it, and those who use its services.

I tend to believe that at least some modicum of regulation is necessary to ensure that the industry operates with minimal basic standards, to ensure the safety of the workers and their clients, and to allow the community to integrate sex work into the local economic infrastructure.  I therefore favor some government regulatory role in prostitution. As much as those who think it should be totally unregulated would like to believe, any industry left unchecked will tend toward taking advantage of the workers and the clients by its nature, so I believe there is a need for at least a minimal involvement of the government in order to help keep things on the up and up.

So, given all of this, I was sitting around last night thinking about how I’d structure the regulation of the industry if I could design my own set of rules and regulations, and the following is what I came up with.

Alexa’s Model Prostitution Law

If I had to design my own laws regarding the legalization of prostitution, this is what I’d do.  I know much of this disagrees with what many activists think ought to be done, but the purpose of my rules would be to make it safe and legal for them to work and ensure the safety and confidentiality of their clients.

Unlike many of the advocacy groups, I would not try to dispense with eons of stigmatization associated with sex work.  While I believe that is a laudable goal, I don’t believe it is reasonable to expect to be able to do that in today’s society.  Not at this point, at any rate.  We certainly should strive for that, of course, but in the interim we need to approach this from a more practical perspective.

The first thing I’d do is remove all existing laws against prostitution from the books and start from scratch, with the exception of those involving the trafficking of humans (and make those applicable to all forms of human trafficking, not just sex workers).  It would remain illegal to force or coerce anyone into working in prostitution, or to employ anyone under the age of 18 as a prostitute, or to work as a prostitute if you’re under the age of 18.  Some might advocate for an age of 21, but I know many women who’ve worked as prostitutes to put themselves through college and it simply isn’t necessary to force them to wait until they’re 21 to do that.  They can get any other job at 18, so prostitution should be just as much a solution for them as anything else.

Now for the specifics:

Streetwalking and solicitation would remain illegal.  There are two significant reasons why I believe this should continue to be illegal.  There are are a variety of safety issues involved, especially with respect to the sex workers themselves.  Streetwalkers are many times more likely to be raped or killed than any other category of sex worker.  Working from the street is about as unsafe as you can get in this industry, in fact.  Many of the advocate groups claim this is the result of the fact that prostitution is illegal to begin with, but any time you get into random vehicles with strangers, you run the risk of being abducted, beaten, raped, and possibly killed, whether what you’re doing is legal or not.

The second reason involves quality of life issues in neighborhoods.  While I think you should be free to engage in your chosen line of work wherever you wish, I don’t think it is unreasonable for neighborhoods to not want prostitutes on their streets.  Removing the criminalization of streetwalking would allow prostitutes to set up shop in any neighborhood they wish.

I just can’t see any rational basis for legalizing street-based solicitation, in all actuality.  If anyone can offer a coherent reason to do so, I’d sure be interested to hear it.  I have seen advocacy groups openly suggest making street walking legal, but I don’t think you stand even the remotest of chance of getting something like that passed.  Ever.  The exchange of sex for money should take place indoors, in private, between consenting adults.

What would I do with those arrested on the street?  Well, that’s a good question.  I don’t know for sure, but I wouldn’t treat them like the criminal justice system does now.  See my point below about creating programs to get prostitutes out of the business - maybe that would be a solution.

Jurisdictions would be prohibited from requiring “registration” or “licensing” of prostitutes. There’s no legitimate reason for this.  Requiring sex workers to register puts their name in public records as being involved in sex work.  For many, it is a private matter and they ought not be required to put this kind of personal information out there for future employers, pervs, lawyers, and anyone else with an agenda to be able to get a hold of.  Being labeled a sex worker also carries restrictions with respect to subjects like international travel (some countries refuse to permit sex workers to enter), for example.  The only legitimate reason one could argue for doing this would be to ensure medical testing is accomplished, and I’ll address that in a minute.

There is an argument that it is a good idea to do background checks.  Why?  Why would it be a problem for someone with say, a shoplifting charge, or even a robbery charge on their record to be a prostitute?  Why would that be any more of a problem than any other personal service worker having a similar record (and for whom we don’t require background checks)?  I believe the Nevada law even prohibits someone who’s been convicted of prostitution from becoming a prostitute.  There’s some logic for you.  I do think it would be a good idea to prohibit anyone whose been convicted of any type of organized crime or public corruption from owning or operating brothels or working as agents for sex workers, though.

Regardless, if the legislature sees some need to prohibit someone with a particular crime in their background from engaging in prostitution, make it a crime to do so.  If they get caught prostituting with this in their background, then they can be charged with some violation of that law.  There’s no reason for local law enforcement to extort money from sex workers in the name of “licensing” them.  I’d have no problem with jurisdictions requiring prostitutes to have a standard business license if A) they require all other self-employed, personal-service individuals to have them, and B) they don’t set “special” (read: high) rates for prostitutes.

Prostitutes would be prohibited from seeing more than one, perhaps two, clients at a residence, either a house in a residential neighborhood, apartment, condo, etc. Neighborhoods have the right to ensure the value of the housing remains stable, and that a suitable climate to raise a family is maintained.  Having a lot of traffic would draw attention to the fact that someone was seeing a lot of people, result in traffic and congestion problems, etc.  Like it or not, having a de facto brothel in a neighborhood does bring down property values and negatively impacts the quality of life in those neighborhoods from a variety of standpoints.  Therefore, if a prostitute was going to see client in his/her own home (incalls), then s/he could see no more than one or two in any 24 hour period under my plan.  The option for outcalls is there, as would be renting/leasing space in brothels or other facilities in areas zoned to allow prostitution (see below).

Prostitutes would not be required to work in brothels.  Nevada requires all prostitutes to work in brothels, and while I’ve spoken with some prostitutes who are okay with that, Amanda’s experience clearly shows that it is not necessarily the best environment for every sex worker.  Certainly it should be an option, but many sex workers don’t want to work in this type of restrictive environment and shouldn’t have to give up that much of their freedom just to be able to earn a living.

Brothels cannot be zoned completely out of any city over a certain population.  They could be restricted to commercial or industrial areas if necessary, but allowing individual large cities to simply zone them out of existence would be disallowed. I don’t necessarily have a specific population in mind, but something on the order of the largest cities within the state would require brothels that otherwise operated within the law be allowed to operate unmolested by local law enforcement and other officials.  Law enforcement and public health agencies would have the right to inspect the facilities to ensure no one was working illegally and that all relevant health codes were being followed, of course.  Jurisdictions would have the right to set reasonable health codes/practices for brothels if they so desire, and perhaps reasonable restrictions on the size or number of employees of brothels in any given zoning class.  Local jurisdictions would have no zoning or land use regulatory authority over individual sex workers, however.

The state or local jurisdictions could not legislate or outlaw specific practices.  The specific activities that take place between two consenting individuals should be left to them, and the government has no business deciding what these two people should do in the privacy of their own sexual relationship, even if it is one revolving around a financial transaction, so long as both parties are amenable to it (see the point on contracts below).  This includes anal sex, BDSM activities, or any other activity that is legal between consenting adults who are in any other type of relationship.

There could be no children or minors in any place where prostitution was being practiced.  This applies largely to individual houses and other residences.  While it may be permissible to practice prostitution in one’s own residence, doing so with children or other minors in the place would be a crime.  I know this would present a hardship for the single mother who’s trying to make ends meet and take care of her children, but kids should not be exposed to this kind of activity at all.  Anyone found prostituting a child would face felony charges, as well the likely loss of custody of their children.

Written contracts would be required between the prostitute and the client.  This contract would be executed at the beginning of the transaction, and would specify exactly what services the prostitute is prepared to offer, for how much, and for what time period.  Further, it’d require the client to certify that s/he understands what the words “no” and “stop” mean, and the prostitute’s safe/stop words and that failure to honor those at any point during the transaction, might result in a charge of rape.  Law enforcement and the judicial system would be required to treat any such claim of rape as legitimate until it was determined to be otherwise.

Prostitutes would be required to be tested periodically, perhaps once or twice a month.  I know a lot of activists don’t like this at all, but I think the government has a compelling interest in preventing the transfer of STDs.  The reason no transmission of STDs has been documented between prostitutes and clients in Nevada is because the law requires the prostitutes be tested every week.  I would require public health departments to perform the testing and to do so anonymously, just like HIV testing has been done for years.  The prostitutes would be required to show their latest test results to any client who requested to see them (as well as local public health officials), and if the prostitute knowingly saw clients without full disclosure after a positive result before the disease was remediated, s/he’d be charged with some type of assault. If the state’s laws did not already address this type of assault specifically, they’d need to be modified to do so.  Note that I didn’t say that prostitutes wouldn’t be allowed to see clients if they were infected - there are plenty of things sex workers can do that don’t involve the exchange of bodily fluids or otherwise present a risk for infection.  The problem comes in when the infection isn’t disclosed - then it becomes an issue.

And yes, I realize that prostitutes only account for about 2-3% of all STD transmissions.  And I know that, in some cases, the latency time between infection and detectability makes tests a less than 100% reliable indicator.  I don’t believe that should preclude using as many reasonable safety mechanisms as possible, however.

What about testing of the clients, you say?  As soon a someone shows me a legitimate, logistically feasible way to test clients on such a massive scale, I’d be happy to entertain that requirement as well.  As of now, it just isn’t feasible to require STD testing of all clients.

Well, you say, we don’t require food workers to be tested for things like Hepatitis, which infects a great many people each year.  Perhaps we should.  The fact of the matter is that Hepatitis and other non-STD infections are not considered “private” or stigmatized diseases and there’s a lot of publicity associated with them when an outbreak occurs.  STDs are stigmatized diseases and not discussed openly as a general rule, so there isn’t the kind of public attention paid to them that we see with food-borne illnesses or other human-borne infectious diseases.  Therefore, the best way I see to mitigate the potential for infection transfer is to require workers to be tested.  I personally get tested once a month on my own anyway, and I don’t see that as intrusive at all.  In fact, I see it as a very responsible thing to do for myself and my clients.

Some have asserted that a clean test might lead to clients pressuring workers for bareback sex, and I agree, that is certainly a potential.  I think this is a point that must be negotiated between the worker and the client as a part of the contract process.  If the contract stated that protection must be used and the client attempts or performs sex without one, then he’s violated the contract and would be guilty of a sexual assault (or whatever crime the state elected to define it as).  And, for the record, I am not in favor of mandated condom use - I think that should be between the worker and the client, and if both can establish that they’re clean and want to have condom-free sex, then that should be their prerogative.

Prostitutes would be required to keep records of their clients.  These records would be confidential and be available to law enforcement only with a subpoena during criminal investigations, and public health officials when tracking down STD infections.  Tax officials might also have access to these to ensure workers were paying their fair share of taxes.

Services/Agencies would be prohibited from charging the prostitute more than 25% of the client’s fee for their services.  While I personally think pimping ought to be wholly illegal, I recognize that many prostitutes will not/could not work independently and would prefer to have a service arrange the scheduling and so forth.  With the work no longer being illegal, there wouldn’t be quite the number of risk factors the agency would need to mitigate (i.e., vetting for law enforcement, etc.).  The agency would largely be functioning only as a booking agent for the prostitute, so the days of the 40-50% fee share would be gone.  Agencies of a certain size would be required to provide some form of health insurance and other benefits to its workers, contract or otherwise.  Agencies would be required to disclose any unique problems or issues a particular client exhibited that might impact the sex worker so that situations like THIS could be avoided.  Failure to do so would subject the agency to liability for damages.

Offer economic incentives for groups of individuals to form co-operative brothels.  This is an idea I got from reading Amanda’s writing, and something that a group of sex workers are trying to implement in time for the Olympics in Vancouver, Canada.  The sex workers themselves would own and operate the brothel, they’d share in the costs required to operate it, and the profits would be split among them, not a pimp or an absentee owner.  I’d try to find a way to provide some form of tax break or other economic incentive to encourage this kind of cooperative effort.

Public services and appurtenances, including social services agencies, public health and welfare agencies, workers compensation laws, discrimination laws, legal services, safe workplace rules, etc., would apply to sex work just as they do any other service job.  All public sector agencies would be required to treat sex workers with the same respect and dignity afforded to any other class of worker, and extend all rights, benefits and privileges associated with their functions to sex workers just as they would any other class of worker, including the right to sue, the right to petition for redress, to file discrimination suits, etc.  Health and medical professionals would be prohibited from refusing to treat sex workers because of their work, all other things being equal.  Insurance companies would be prevented from charging sex workers significantly higher rates unless they can definitively show a higher degree of risk based on job description.

Create community-based programs to help sex workers leave the field when they’re ready.  I’d probably fund this through some sort of tax on the client, but the funds would go to community-based organizations that work to help sex workers leave the industry, regardless of how they got in, why they wish to get out, or which strata they occupy.

So that pretty much wraps up what I’d consider doing if it were up to me.  I do believe that this represents a fairly middle-of-the-road approach to it, and I’d be interested in any thoughts, ideas, comments, or suggestions you guys might have.

Role Reversal

August 21, 2008

Sometimes, it’s just more fun to lie there and be fucked.

In a conversation I was having with a close friend a couple of days ago, we were discussing sexual relationships and the role of the aggressor, or perhaps more accurately, the dominant - the one who controls the sexual tension in the relationship.  For the majority of my sexual life (which began in the latter part of my 14th year), I have almost invariably been the aggressor. I was the one who initiated sexual activity and controlled how far it went, how often we did it, and how hot it got for the most part.

I had four boyfriends during my time in high school, and in each of those cases the relationships were largely egalitarian - coequal in just about every way.  Going into it, each guy knew that I was headstrong and wasn’t going to be someone they could walk over, emotionally, intellectually or sexually.  Three of them found that exhilarating, believe it or not.  That tends to go against the archetypal relationship dynamic many people have in their minds about male-female relationships, especially those among high school aged couples.  Admittedly, though, I was an exception; I knew plenty of examples where the relationship was not only not coequal, but terribly biased toward one member of the pair (and it wasn’t just the males being the stronger of the pair exclusively, either).

After I’d had my first experience with another girl, I went on a tear, seducing as many girls as I could (when I wasn’t in a relationship with a boy).  My initial justification was providing them with the same experience I’d had on that fantastic New Year’s Eve.  In fact, the sex I had with first three girls I was with after that evening was largely an educational endeavor with my best friends.  I wanted my closest friends to experience the intensity I’d felt that evening, so I set out to teach them about lesbian sex (though I refused to even call it that at that point in my life).  We literally spent time researching sexual topics and then imparting that knowledge unto one another.  I’d had several all-girl threesomes and foursomes by the time I turned 16.  Looking back on that now, I am literally quite shocked that they all acquiesced as easily as they did without freaking out.

As time went on, I began to enjoy the thrill of taking a new girl into that experience; by the time I’d graduated from high school, I’d been with ten different girls, some multiple times, some just once.  To this day, I have no idea if many of them consider themselves straight, bisexual or what.  One of my BFFs has come out to herself and a few close friends as gay, and is in the United States Marine Corps.  She’s in the band and just returned from her second tour in Iraq.  Aside from Nikki, she’s the only high school friend whose sexuality I am knowledgeable about.

This carried over into the early part of my college career.  It literally became sport fucking for me - I wanted to see how many women I could get into bed.  I took advantage of the new found freedom that many people experience when they get away from home for the first time, unconstrained by the need to “behave,” and the willingness to experiment.   I literally spent weeks, even months, chasing individual women specifically to see if I could convince them to walk on the opposite side of the tracks.  By any reasonable measure, I was very successful.  In fact, I can count on one hand the number of times I failed.

The one constant throughout all of this, of course, is the fact that I was always the instigator, the pursuer, the aggressor, when it came to the sexual aspects in all of these relationships.

It is hardly any different with my clients.  I am still the one who initiates and/or controls what we do, how long we do it, how far we go, etc.  So, even though the client initiated the appointment, I still retain the ultimate control.  This is necessary to ensure my safety and to keep the dynamic balanced with respect to the transaction taking place.  This is a fundamental concept behind making sex work safe and consensual.  If the client exerts too much control over the situation, then I lose my agency and the transaction becomes akin to slavery or abuse.

And, while it’s a lot of fun to be the one who initiates and controls the sex, especially with someone who’s never been down that road before, the past couple of years have seen me become more and more interested in exploring the opposite end of the spectrum - being the submissive one; the one who is on the receiving end of sexual pursuit; the one who’s being done, rather than the one doing someone else.

As you know, if you’ve spent any time reading my original series of posts, I’ve spent some time exploring some avenues of submissiveness, mainly through indulging personal fantasies.  I started down the road for real when I went through the process of getting my first facial.  That is a rather benign expression of submissiveness, of course, but my own personal fantasies have included some extremes, including one of being gang raped*.

This is the root of why I find my experiences with Chase so intense.  She’s the one in the driver’s seat most of the time, and I find allowing myself to submit to her, to be penetrated by her, to have my sex controlled by her, highly erotic.  This just works to intensify the sexual chemistry that exists between us to begin with.  I find myself wondering if the girls and women I was with in my early years felt the same way I do when I am being fucked by her.  I’d sure like to hope so, but, as you know, we each experience sex on such an individual level that it’d be impossible to know for sure without asking them (and who asks that kind of question after sex?  lol)

She lets me take the opposite role, easily.  And, in fact, I do that during our sexual encounters - we reverse roles quite often in bed.  My sexual relationship with Nikki is, for all intents and purposes, very similar as well - we can both be the aggressor or the submissive in any given sex session.  Neither one of us maintains as sexually dominant across any specific length of time, and I absoultely adore that.  Some days she’ll ask me if I’d like to have sex; on others, she’ll just push me down and fuck me.

I think, to be a sexually balanced individual, you should be able to switch from one role to the other to a degree.  Not necessarily seamlessly, but in some kind of combination that allows you to experience a broad realm of experiences so as to make one whole sexually.  Not unlike having a balance between emotion and logic, if you will.  I think others would probably disagree with that, but it is just my personal opinion.

I have yet to experience it, but I know a lot of escorts have male clients that want to be controlled, that want to be penetrated, dominated, fucked.  As I said here, this is a common expression for someone who spends the majority of his/her life “in control” - they want to be done to, rather than the one responsible for doing.  What’s sad, to me anyway, is that these people don’t feel free to express that within the confines of the relationships they have with their wives, girlfriends, or partners.  I do, however, understand why it isn’t safe to do that, or, rather, why the perception that it isn’t safe exists.

I often reflect back on my high school time and wonder how things would’ve been different had I been the one who was pursued by another female.  In the absence of having had an experience with another girl, how would I have felt?  Would I have found it enticing?  Would I have been reluctant?  Would I have been scared?  Would I have had an orgasm? 

Had I had the same curiosity streak I possessed in high school, I believe I would have enjoyed it because I have always been driven to know as much as I could about anything that held my interest, including, especially, sexuality.  And I honestly believe that I would’ve craved the experience.  The difference would have been that I probably would’ve lacked the confidence to make it happen; I would’ve waited for someone to pursue me.

In the end, though, I can’t honestly say that I am disappointed with the way things have turned out. 

*This is a password-protected post, so you’ll need to contact me for the password.

Chase Me, Fuck Me.

August 16, 2008

I was horny Wednesday afternoon, and wanted someone to play with for my pleasure.

I keyed into my Blackberry, “You’re a hot little bitch.” and hit the SEND button.

“U wanna play 2nite?”

The text message exchange was short and succinct, but it got the point across.

“Yes.  Are you free?”

“4 U, yes.”

So I called Chase.  She could tell in my voice I was in a playful mood, and she reacted to that. “You wanna come over here and do me, don’t you?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Yes, but the feeling is mutual, so why don’t you show up around 11 or so? Will that work?”

“Yes, ma’am, it will. I’ll see you then.”

I spent the rest of the evening daydreaming about what might happen, and masturbated twice before I even left the apartment.

When I arrived at her house, I rang the doorbell.  “Come on in.”  As I walked through the door, I threw my purse down, pulled the sweatshirt over my head, and dropped my sweatpants before I even shut the door behind me, standing there as naked as the day I was born.

“Oh, dear god.” Chase came walking over to me, stripping out of her clothes as well. Our faces met and we spent several minutes tongue fucking each others’ mouths, sucking each others’ tongues, biting each others lips, pulling each others’ hair, and exploring each others’ bodies with our hands and fingers. Chase ran her fingers down my tummy.  When they got between my legs, she stuck her middle finger in my cunt and pulled it out. She looked at it, admiring the sheen in which it was now encased.  “You slut.” She moved it up to my mouth with a look that told me what I was expected to do next.  I took it into my mouth, sucking it and teasing it with my tongue like I would had it been her cock. She grabbed my hand and we headed back to her bedroom, where we spent an untold amount of time just exploring each others’ erotic spaces, physically and spiritually.

At one point, as I ran my tongue from her neck down to the valley between her tits, I couldn’t help but notice that she tasted sweet. Literally.  I vaguely recalled this from our past encounters, but it struck me as unique that she had such a sweet taste about her, not the somewhat salty taste that everyone else I’ve put my tongue on has exuded. Maybe she’s addicted to sugar and that comes through her skin, I don’t know. She certainly doesn’t have a body that would suggest an addiction to sweets, though.

After we’d spent several minutes lavishing some oral attention on a variety of each others’ body parts, Chase got up and walked over to the chest of drawers where she kept her collection of sex toys. She pulled out her strap-on and began putting it on. My heart began to race as I realized I was about to be penetrated in one orifice or another.  She then walked into another room and came back with a bottle of what appeared to be Eros.

As I watched her pour the lube out into her hand and masturbate the cock to apply it, I could see in her eyes that she was looking forward to what she was about to do. She’d picked up the silicone lube rather than the Astroglide. I hoped that I knew what this meant. Silicone is the lube of choice for rough or prolonged anal penetration. It has much greater staying power than the water-based lubes, and her choice suggested to me that she was intent on providing me with a little bit of anal entertainment tonight. “I know how much you love being fucked in the ass, so I thought I’d have a little bit of fun with that, if you don’t mind. I’m not even going to touch your cunt.” All I could do was laugh. She wiped her hands off and slapped me on the side of my hip. “Turn over, bitch.”

I did as I was told, climbing up onto my hands and knees and presenting my ass to her. She slapped my ass hard with an open hand, and then bent down and slid her tongue slowly up the crack of my ass, stopping at the little starfish, teasing it with little probing thrusts. When she was finished, she moved up and positioned her cock at the entrance to my back passage and began pushing in. I relaxed and pushed out on my asshole to allow her to enter me a little easier.

The huge intruder made it through the first door just fine, but encountered some resistance at the second one. She moved back and forth, pushing a bit harder each time, and finally it burst through. I let out an audible “Oh, god” as the cock sank into my asshole.  That little twinge of pain when it pushes through that second ring always flips a switch in me that causes little chill bumps to rise up on my skin, even to this day.  I don’t know what it is about anal penetration that causes me to get such a rise, but I’ve never complained about it - it’s been that way since the first time I took a cock in my butt.

Chase began thrusting slowly, going a little deeper with each penetration, training my ass to take it’s length. After a couple of minutes of work, she could bury the entire eight inches into me. I slowly slid down to where I was resting on my stomach on a pillow I’d placed beneath me, with her on top of me - her hips not resting on mine but hovering above my ass, slowly, deliberately pushing the cock into me and withdrawing it in succession. She was going tremendously slow to heighten the intensity of that erotic pain that you feel when you have something that large penetrating you. She, too, enjoys anal sex and has that experience to know exactly what I am feeling when she does this, so I know she’s enjoying fucking me this way. I could hear myself grunting and moaning with each little push, each little thrust. I wish I had thought to record it - the audio of myself being fucked anally would be hot, I think.

She was straddling me, fucking my ass, as she bent down and started biting me on the neck and in that sensitive spot formed by the back ridge of my collarbone between my neck and the apex of my shoulder. I wanted to reach down and masturbate myself, but I was enjoying the little pre-orgasmic spasms I was having in my crotch at the moment, and didn’t want it to end. I’ve never had an unassisted orgasm from anal penetration, but it does occasionally come close, and this was one of those situations.

Having that long, thick cock pushing slowly, deeply into the cavern of my rectum, followed by the slow withdrawal, resulting in an empty, hollow feeling, only to be replaced again by the refilling of it - almost as if it were pushing the seismic precursors into my abdomen until they reached the point where they could be contained no longer.  There are no words to describe that feeling, really. I literally felt as if my my soul were being penetrated; the waves were pulsing all the way up into the base of my skull. When it was combined with the adrenaline shots I was receiving from the hard bites she was inflicting on my neck and shoulders, my entire body was being wracked with tension - a tension that was begging to be released.

She splayed herself out on top of me, reaching out and interlacing her fingers with mine, and used her hips as a fulcrum to fuck my ass without moving the rest of her body. I used her weight on my hips to my advantage, moving with her undulations, pushing my cunt into the pillow, using it to masturbate myself. It wasn’t like using my fingers, rapidly teasing my clit. That would rapidly get me off.  This was a slow, luxurious, languishing build up of orgasmic energy. It literally took several minutes to build up to the point of release, while Chase continued to slowly fuck me anally. As your PC muscles begin to contract in the midst of an orgasm, your asshole starts contract with them, and when it has something to grab a hold of - something that prevents it from closing against itself - the strain heightens the intensity of the parallel contractions.  This heightens the orgasm even more, and is one reason why I have some of my most intense orgasms during anal penetration.  Chase knows this, and is using it to her (my?) advantage.

The two sets of competing, yet contiguous sets of movements combined to give me one of the most intense orgasms I’ve ever had.  I don’t know how loud I was, but I was so very grateful that we were not doing this in my apartment.  Someone would’ve called 9-1-1 thinking I was dying, I am sure.  My entire body felt like it was one huge wave, crashing over and over and over again against a rock, releasing a tremendous amount of energy with each splash.

I laid there for several moments, enjoying the post-orgasmic waves coursing through my body, and then reached up to wipe the tears from my eyes.  There are times when I cum so hard that I tear up.  I don’t know why that is - the release of pent up energy produces a sympathetic response in my tear ducts, apparently.  It didn’t faze Chase, though.  She reached up and wiped the tear trail from my nose, and then kissed me softly on the lips.  As she did, she began moving her hips a bit more so that the cock buried in my ass would dislodge and she could pull out.  If there were ever a more vacant feeling than what you experience when something that large is removed from your rectum, I don’t know what it would be.  Your asshole continues to pulse in time with those little post-orgasmic contractions that are still going on in the floor of your pelvis as your orgasm winds down, and as you squeeze it shut, it magnifies those remaining hints of what has just transpired.

We spent the next three hours, wrapped in each other’s sex, rising and falling through several more waves of orgasmic ecstasy.  At some point, I don’t recall what time it was, we fell asleep next to each other.  I awoke shortly after 3AM and kissed Chase awake.  “I need to get going, sweet face.  Thank you for seeing me tonight.”

She looked up at me.  “You are so much fun to fuck.  You are just so in touch with your own inner sexual spirit.  I didn’t think there was anyone else like that out there.”  She squeezed my hand.  “Feel free to come by any time.”

I went and used the bathroom, washed my face and then walked out into her foyer, put my clothes back on and drove home, where I took a quick shower and headed off to bed, my body still reeling from the orgasms I’d had just a short time earlier.

Cutting to the Chase

August 1, 2008

A couple of Sunday nights ago I got a wild hair and decided to go clubbing again. And, of course, I went back to the one place I was fairly comfortable I could find a bit of entertainment.

I walked in and meandered about for a few minutes. A couple of women dancing together invited me to dance with them, so I did. Within a few minutes of my joining them on the floor, we all three started making out. Even after some hot and heavy dancing, though, I just didn’t feel any real chemistry with them, so I bowed out and told them I was going to get a drink.

As I headed up to the bar, I saw her out of the corner of my eye, dancing with another woman just ten feet from me. She hadn’t seen me yet, and I wasn’t sure what the etiquette was for this kind of situation. Do I just walk up and cut in? Do I pretend to ignore her and hope that she doesn’t see me? I didn’t like that option, since I would love to have her again. I decided just to order a drink and stand there and wait for her to see me. So I got my drink and watched her dance.

Her moves on the dance floor mimicked what she was capable of in the bed – very fluid, very…erotic. And though I wasn’t going to be disappointed if I went home without someone to play with tonight (I was here primarily to let off some energy), I couldn’t lie to myself, my mind was entertaining thoughts of what it’d be like to have her between my legs again. She reminded me of Marina from “The L Word,” though her frame was a bit smaller. She had the same facial structure, same color hair, and even a hint of the same accent when she spoke, though.  And she had the same drive to fuck.

Finally, she turned around to allow her partner to grind up against the back of her, and she noticed me. She didn’t miss a beat; she just fixed her eyes on me and continued grinding away with her mirror. I took another couple of sips of my diet Coke, and enjoyed the visual stimulation of watching her and her partner move against each other.  I could tell she was getting off with me watching her dance; that grin she has gave it away.

As I got done with my drink, I sat it down and started walking toward the bathroom. I watched her out of the corner of my eye (and she knew I was watching her), and sure enough, she said something to her dance partner and headed back to the bathroom, following me.

I walked in and waited, knowing she’d be coming through the door. When she did, she grabbed me, pushed me against the wall and began kissing me. I kissed back, as she grinded herself on my leg. The other women in the room seemed oblivious to what was going on. That was understandable, though; just about every time I’d come into the bathroom, there was at least one pair of women tongue fucking each others’ mouths, either against the wall, in one of the stalls or even on the counter. And this was only my third time here.

She grabbed my hair and pulled my head to one side, and began kissing her way down my neck. The kissing turned to biting, lightly at first, but then it got serious.  “You’re going to make me cum doing that.”

“Okay.”

“Do you want to go somewhere again? My place? Yours? The fucking parking lot?”

“If you want, sure.”

I grabbed her hand and pulled her with me as we headed out to the parking lot. As we headed to my car, she caught me off guard, “We need to talk for a minute.”

“About what?”

“I need you to know that I am not looking for a relationship, even a permanent fuck buddy kind of thing. I just got out of one, and I can’t do that right now. I don’t want you to misunderstand my intentions.”

“I’ll be honest with you, I am not looking for anything other than a recreational fuck either. Seriously. I came here just to let some steam off, and here you were. If you’d rather not…”

“No, no, don’t get me wrong. I’ll take you home and rock your world. I just want you to know what I’m about right now, that’s all.”

“Okay. I think we understand each other.” I kissed her. “My name is Alexa, by the way. I was thinking the other night, I have no idea what your name is.”

“My name is Chase. Nice to meet you, Alexa.” She extended her hand out as if to shake my hand. I took it and pulled it down to the the snap of my pants.

“I like the way you think.”  Let’s go in my car, to my house.  We don’t have to worry about disturbing the neighbors there.  I have a feeling we’re going to be…loud.

We drove to her house, located a good fifteen minutes from the club. It was an actual house, too, not a smallish apartment like I had. Not that we needed much room. We just needed some space on the bed, the couch, the floor, or whatever. During the drive over, I had my hand down my pants, masturbating.

She asked, “Can’t you wait?” as she reached over and put her hand over mine, helping me, with only my pants separating us.

“No.”

We didn’t say another word on the way to her house. Each time we stopped at a traffic signal, we just looked at each other, knowing what we’d be doing in just a few short minutes. The sexual tension was excruciatingly palpable.  If the car had been able to drive us home on autopilot, I know we’d have been in the back seat fucking the entire way.

We got to her house, walked in the door, and recreated our initial entry into her place much like we did last week at mine, pushing each other against the wall, pushing our tongues down each others’ throats, and allowing our hands to wander along and around the curves that are found only on another woman’s body. I undid her shirt and found her erect nipples with my teeth. She wasn’t wearing a bra tonight, not that her perfectly formed 34Bs remotely needed such a thing. She had taken advantage of my unbuttoned jeans and already had her fingers in my cunt, thrusting in and out like a small cock. The palm of her hand was pushing against my mound, and the pressure on my clit was enough to push me into orgasmic overload. I have trouble standing when I cum – my orgasms are almost always intense, and they just drain me of the ability to maintain anything resembling composure. I got weak and pulled back for a minute. “Let’s go find the bed.”

We headed back to her inner sanctum and found her perfectly made bed. As I finished removing my pants, Chase was biting me on the back of my neck and pinching my nipples tightly with her thumbs and forefingers. It occurred to me that she seems to be the type that can be as rough as I like to have it, so I shared my safeword with her and told her she could do whatever she wanted, as rough as she wanted until I uttered that word.

“Christ, that’s off the chain. I hadn’t thought of a safeword for regular sex before, but I like that idea.” She then gave me a safeword that she’d use as well.

We crawled into her bed, naked, wet with perspiration, and with our hands all over each others’ bodies. I ended up on the bottom, and Chase crawled on top of me, kissing me vigorously, then leaning down and biting my nipples. And in this case, I don’t mean nibbling on them – she bit them. That sent little shockwaves through my body. “Ooh, you like that, don’t you?”

“Fuck, yes. Bite them harder.”

She wasted no time complying, and I moved my hand to my crotch and began masturbating myself as she bit deeply into my nips. I’ve always been a little bit of a pain slut, and I enjoy the rush I get when someone inflicts pain on me while we’re fucking, either through biting, slapping, or spanking. As I rubbed my clit, she moved her focus to the soft meaty flesh of my tits themselves, biting into them hard enough to make me concerned that she’d leave marks. “Don’t leave any marks. That doesn’t fit well with work.”

“Oh, really?”

It occurred to me she’d probably think that I was a stripper, since that’d be about the only common job one would have where the appearance of your naked boobs was of any significant concern. If that bothered her, though, it didn’t show; she went back to chewing on me. Within the space of a couple of minutes, I came, and came hard. I have yet to have a bad orgasm with this woman at all, I thought to myself.

As I came down, we just laid there with her on top of me, her hand playing with my hair. It felt so good to have a warm, sensual body lying on top of me. She had a slightly lavender scent about her, one that I found slightly intoxicating. She began running her hands over my body and then moved up to kiss me. It started out softly, and gradually evolved into an intensely passionate tongue fucking of each others’ mouths again. We playfully bit at each others’ lips, tongues, even the skin of our cheeks. It’s amazing how your breathing sounds when that’s the only noise being made, and you’re engaged in an activity that requires you to modify your its rhythm as you interact with and counter someone kissing you.  You intersperse those sounds with the tiny grunts and groans you’re making, those little subtle communications you’re exchanging with your partner…it just becomes so intensely erotic.

After a few minutes of this I rolled her over, climbed on top of her and began kissing my way down the side of her face and her neck. She pulled her hair back to allow me better access. I know how much it turns me on to have someone kiss me behind my ears, so I spent some time focusing some attention there as well. She moaned lightly and I took that as a sign of enjoyment. I continued working my way down her chest, using my tongue to paint her skin with a thin trail of saliva, stopping on the way to lavish some attention on her tits.  I would grab her nipples in between my teeth and pull back until they were taut, and then let go.  That buildup of pain, followed by the sudden release sends pre-orgasmic sine waves through the body, and her quick little puffs of breath when I let go each time let me know that she was feeling each wave.

As I got closer to her cunt, I could smell the musky scent of her sex. The scent of someone’s pubic area has always turned me on - there’s just something so primal and animalistic about it. The closer I got the more she writhed in anticipation. She had her hands on my head trying to push and pull me into her, but I teased her by moving out from under them and focusing some attention on her thighs, lightly biting the soft tender flesh just a few inches away from her sacred spot, making her wait for me to get around to opening her little flood gate. When my tongue finally made contact with her clit, she let out a deep, guttural moan.

I spent several minutes lavishing a wealth of attention on her special button, her pussy, her thighs, and then made my way to her back entrance. I know she likes anal play as much as I do, so I wanted to use that to my advantage.  “Roll over and get on your knees, you little slut.” She complied and I crawled up behind her and began rimming her, and biting her ass. I stuck three fingers into her pussy and probed her tight little asshole with my tongue, fucking it rhythmically in synch with my finger penetrations of her cunt. She reached under herself and began masturbating, and pushing back to meet the force of my penetrations. I stopped for a second and slapped her ass as hard as I could with my open hand, eliciting a loud yelp from her, then went back to lavishing attention on her nether regions. Her orgasm was so intense that she literally hurt my fingers with her contractions.

We spent the next three hours alternating between tongue-fucking every orifice we could find on each others’ bodies in every position conceivable, and just enjoying the touch of another sexual human being. “I really enjoy being with someone who can match my intensity. That is rare in my experience. You really know your way around the erotic spots on a woman’s body.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you enjoy me. I’ll echo your thoughts because I’ve only been with one other woman who is as engaged as you are.”

“Who was that? Anyone I know?” she asked, with a quirky smile on her face.

“I doubt it! Haha! Unless you know my girlfriend.” Chase’s eyebrows rose a bit.

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend. I just assumed…”

“Don’t worry about it. She’s in Florida, and we have an open relationship. She doesn’t care if I play around.  God help us if the three of us get together.”

She laid her head down on my chest and we rested for a few more minutes. “Your heart is beating so fast.”

“A good fuck does that to me.”  I leaned down, tilted her head up with my finger and kissed her lightly on the lips.

“I need a shower. Would you like to join me?”

“Oh, hell, yeah.” She grabbed my hand and led me into her bathroom, where she turned on the water to warm up and then we hopped in. We spent another 45 minutes running our soapy hands across each others’ bodies, kissing, biting, and just playing around with one another. The freedom of the experience was overwhelming to me in many ways, and I found myself mentally making notes about my feelings here vs. what I experience with clients. It is truly different in a great many ways, and I can’t see myself conflating the two worlds any time in the near future.  That has been one of my biggest concerns about the work I do.

We finished up our shower, got out and dried our hair. We got dressed and she drove me back to the club to pick up my car. It was almost 4 AM, and even though I was physically exhausted I was on a mental high. I couldn’t quite place my hands on where it was coming from.

She pulled up next to my car and I opened the door to get out. I turned to thank her for a wonderful night, but she had already gotten out and was headed over to my side of the car. She extended a hand to me and helped me out, then pushed me against the car and began kissing me deeply again. She grabbed my hair and forced her tongue into my mouth with the same intensity she had when we were in mid-fuck in her bed.

After a good minute of intense, hands-all-over-each-other passionate kissing, she pulled away. “Thank you for a very hot night, you gorgeous bitch. Give me your cell phone.”

I reached into my purse and pulled out my Blackberry and handed it to her. She entered some numbers and hit the “send” button (after figuring out which key it was! lol). “There’s my number. If you ever need someone to spend some time with, call me. Any time.” She gave me another quick kiss and walked over to get into her car.

“The feeling is definitely mutual. Good night, Chase.”

I drove back to my apartment and crawled into bed and relived the experience in my head in various little vignettes until I passed out and drifted into lala land.

Prostitute Typology

July 30, 2008

I recently finished as book called Rent Boys, by French researcher and sociologist Michel Dorais. The book is a summary of his analysis of male sex workers and how they relate to their work. His findings are interesting to me because this was the first material of any depth I’ve read on the subject of male sex workers – almost all research on prostitution involves females, as you might expect. I was looking forward to reading the book primarily so I could relate the male experience to that of females in the trade. I’ve read a plethora of material on female prostitution, and conducted my own limited research on the subject, but with the possible exception of a brief discussion or two in a class, the subject of male prostitution was hardly referenced to any serious degree in my academic studies up to this point (other than to mention the dearth of research!  lol).

One of the first things that caught my attention was a taxonomy Dorais developed to classify the male prostitutes he studied. He defined four types, and described them thusly (note that the descriptions are my paraphrasing/summary of the author’s work, not his original words, generally speaking):

Outcasts is the term assigned to those who are turning tricks to support a drug habit or forced by poverty to prostitute to make ends meet. Almost without exception these individuals are substance abusers and in many cases are addicts. It is not uncommon for these people to have started prostituting at a very young age (they were the earliest entrants to the sex trade), and many come from abusive family lives. Self esteem among this group is exceedingly low, and their despair is palpable. The group had by far the highest number of individuals sexually abused as children.

Part-timers are those who opt for sporadic sex work primarily to supplement other income and pay off debts such as student loans and car notes. This group typically began sex work at the latest of the four groups. Drug and alcohol use is rare in this group and is more or less absent as a motivating factor. They are comparatively well educated. Sex work is generally discreet, undisclosed to family and friends. Despite initial apprehensions, they may come to derive a degree of self-affirmation from prostitution.

Insiders are individuals who have grown up in and around the sex trade to the point where they come to view it as their primary social circle. They may have been encouraged by their families of origin, a (biological or foster) mother who worked as a prostitute, for example. They do not regard sex work as a desperate resort but as something natural, an honorable living, so to speak. The group uses drugs and alcohol to various degrees. Some have tried “other things” as occupations, but returned to the sex trade because they missed it, it seems like “home.”

Liberationists are those for whom prostitution is a way of living out fantasies, exploring new experiences and partners, and profiting from their discoveries. The age of entry is highly variable, from 16 to 30. The majority did not experience severe problems during childhood; they maintain good if distant contact with their families. They have significantly higher education levels than their colleagues, and exhibit high self esteem and an overall positive outlook on their activities and clients. All of them stated that they chose sex trade for the many personal and relational advantages it offers. They see their work as an opportunity to affirm their sexual orientation or preference and to grow as an individual.

If you’ve paid much attention to my writings on this subject, you’ll recall that I have broken female prostitutes down into three categories: Streetwalkers, itinerant prostitutes (part-time escorts and Craigslist prostitutes), and those who use it as their primary means of income. Those roughly translate into Dorais’ outcast, part-timer, and liberationists taxa respectively. I’ve not personally encountered anyone who would fit into the insider category, though I have seen them on documentary shows about prostitution (specifically women who followed their mothers or other relatives into the trade).

Dorais’ description of the types mimics what I’ve found to be the situation with respect to the three mirror types that I use, on almost a point by point basis. When I did my interviews with the streetwalkers, for example, every single one of them was either drug addicted or forced into prostitution to keep from losing their children or their homes due to financial insolvency.  And to a person they’d all indicated they’d not be doing it if they had another way to make sufficient money to accommodate their needs. 

Similarly, my interviews with the women who occupied the higher rungs on the escort ladder found that they were highly educated, had high self esteem, and had a positive outlook on their lives, their work and their clients.  They enjoyed their work and used it to provide a robust financial base for themselves.  Each of them indicated that they had no plans to get out of the business in the near term (though half of them were using the work to pay for post-graduate education).

Quite honestly, I was amazed at A) the fact that Dorais’ classification scheme was basically a mirror image of the one I had personally adopted, and B) the similarities between the two genders’ experiences within each type. The only real disparity between what he found with the males and what we see with females is the much higher prevalence of pimps or controlling individuals with women. The only time you generally see pimps with male prostitutes is where underage boys is concerned, according to Dorais.

His results basically reaffirm what I’ve found, and what many researchers have found about prostitution in general.  Many who do it are forced into it through circumstances, but there are a great many people who go into it voluntarily, fully informed, fully cognizant of what the work entails, the opinions and “research” of the likes of Farley et. al, notwithstanding.

It is always irritating to me when someone who’s never worked in the sex industry opines about what it is like for those who do.  They feel that they are able to characterize whether or not we enjoy the work, whether we are doing it consensually, and so forth.  And they often go so far as to imply that the fact that we are paid for it removes the element of true consent.  By their logic, when you pay a mechanic to work on your car, you’re actually forcing or coercing her to do it, since you’d be removing her consent as well. 

Rage Against the Man-chine effluviates on her blog:

Still, I would tend to argue that, since they’re being paid to fulfill a desire that comes out of someone else’s psyche, sex workers are exercising very little of their own sexuality and almost no real power.

This is where you can see that she’s never been a sex worker - she has no concept of the fundamental power dynamic that exists between an escort and the client. We get to select which clients we see (exerting control), what rates to charge (exerting control), how long the session lasts (exerting control), what sex acts, if any, we engage in (exerting control), and so on ad infinitum.  But, then, these folks exist in a two-dimensional world, where anything that manifests itself outside of the X or Y axis doesn’t exist.  Their argument in opposition to this is that we’re just under the illusion that we’re exercising power.  I hope those deposits I’ve been making into the bank aren’t similarly illusory.  

You really can’t blame them, though.  I mean, what they know about prostitution they gleaned from the media, and when you see stories about prostitutes in the media, you invariably see the streetwalkers, the outcasts. For many people, this is the totality of their exposure to and understanding of the concept of prostitution. Quite honestly, my assessment of the trade was similarly aligned until I began to get into the serious exploration and research I’ve done over the past couple of years.

The reality is that those on the street represent only 10% of the total prostitute population.  The only time you hear anything about the other 90% is when someone like Eliot Spitzer or Deborah Jeane Palfrey gets busted, or when the local fuzz conducts a sting of prostitutes operating off Craigslist.  And then to “color” the news reports, you have the likes of Tracey Quan, Amanda Brooks, and other women who, you know, actually worked as escorts and enjoyed it, on television stating that they enjoyed it.  And yet, still, no one listens, or no one believes them, because it completely flies in the face of what you’re supposed to believe about hookers.

Sadly, even when the other types are addressed in the media, the stories are often colored to force them into the mold cast as the streetwalker. So, the entire industry takes on the visage of the poor, drug-addicted woman walking the streets at night offering blowjobs for $5 a pop or a half-and-half for $20. The reality, of course, it much different. I lost faith in the ability of the mainstream media to provide us with honest reporting a long time ago, though. Gone are the days when once respected journalists like Diane Sawyer could be relied upon to provide us with a legitimate look into the world of the “other” prostitutes.  In her 20/20 show on prostitution, she went to great lengths to find an actual courtesan escort, and when that woman had the audacity to tell the viewers that she thoroughly enjoyed her work, Sawyer called her a liar.  There’s nothing like forcing a story to fit through your own narrow, stereotyped prism. So much for journalism.  *sigh*

Plenty of research by real sociologists, plenty of books and treatises by current and former prostitutes, plenty of prostitutes out there blogging and writing about their satisfaction with their work, and yet we still have people who don’t have the mental depth to be able to comprehend that some people do legitimately enjoy the work.  You’d think we’d gotten past all of that at this stage in the development of our society, but I guess some people just can’t grasp anything beyond their narrow, two-dimensional existence.  That Z axis can be a bitch sometimes.

Anyway, this sort of diverged from where I had intended to take it.  The original intent was to point out the results of someone else’s research - research that focused on male sex workers (which, along with transgendered sex workers, are hugely under-represented in all research on sex work), and ended up with a typology that corresponded with those on the female side.  There’s always been this big issue over whether or not the male sex workers were different from female sex workers, and it would appear that they aren’t to any large degree. I found that terribly interesting and thought I’d share it with you.

Facials

July 29, 2008

The facial is perhaps one of the most hotly debated concepts in sexuality today. People either believe them to be inherently degrading, or incredibly hot. They either love them, or they hate them. Few people hold positions that deviate significantly from either end of that dichotomy.

The origin of the facial for most people is porn, of course, just as has been the case throughout history with almost every other deviation from the basic penis-in-vagina/ass sex (who did ass-to-mouth before porn?). Before the facial, the guy would pull out and cum on the actress’ pussy, ass, back, tits, stomach, feet. At some point, a director decided that it’d be a good idea to have the guy cum on the woman’s face. Or maybe it was one of those accidental things, and it just looked so hot that other producers elected to replicate it. Nowadays, of course, it is next to impossible to find a porn sequence involving a cock that doesn’t end with a facial.

So, like good users of any quasi-educational medium, many people began to get curious about facials and thought it might be cool to give it a shot, so to speak.  Girls wanted to know what it felt like, and guys wanted to see what it felt/looked like.  Though I am positive the vast majority of the first times were done at the behest of the guys, I do know some women who were the instigators.  And, just like with any other sex act, some enjoyed it, others…not so much.

But are they degrading? Are they disrespectful? Is the facial inherently an act of domination? Does the opinion of the one on the receiving end matter?  (That last question is purely rhetorical because, as we know, it is the only one other than the opposite partner that matters).

A few years ago, the overwhelming majority of people would have argued that the facial was one of the most intensely degrading acts possible – it represents a guy depositing his “waste” on her face, or “marking” her face, the most personal feature a person has. Today, though, with the facial’s ubiquity in porn and the resulting mainstreaming of both the term and the act, you often find that many people will now just as vehemently argue that it isn’t inherently degrading.

Quite honestly, I had no real opinion on the subject until recently, when I experienced my first facial. I’d been with Nikki for a couple of years, and although we had an open relationship, we’d not been playing with guys. So I had not been in a position to even ask for a facial to see what it was like. Like many others, though, I’d seen it in porn many times and wondered what it’d be like to get one (and, let’s be honest here, even those of you who think it is gross still wonder what it would be like).

As happenstance would have it, the subject came up during a lunch that Nikki and I shared with four other women we know one afternoon. After listening to the conversation among the group of women we hung out with, and how they enjoyed them (to a person), my latent curiosity piqued to the point where I was moved to find a random guy to give me one.  And then guys started offering to pay me to let them do it. So I let them. And I enjoyed it.  And profited from it!  Heh.  And that’s how I ended up here, of course.  But you know that already.

Now, from my own personal perspective, I find receiving a facial to be an intensely erotic experience. Not just from having cum splattered all over me, but from the totality of what takes place in those few moments leading up to it. If you’ve been on the receiving end of one, you know what it is like to be just inches away from that cock, with its huge presence looming before you, watching your guy jerk himself off (which I find highly erotic in and of itself), and knowing that he is getting himself off looking at you, your face, begging him, knowing that you’re allowing him to ejaculate onto that which is most personally your space. If that does it for him, then I’ve fulfilled my half of the sexual fantasy as I see it. And quite frankly I enjoy being the little slut who’ll allow a guy to cum on my face. It gets me wet, and I derive pleasure from it. I can’t pinpoint what it is about it that causes me to be that way…well, wait, maybe I can. Maybe I just find it a “dirty” act, and I get off on being a dirty girl.

And though I know it sounds weird, I *love* the feeling of cum hitting my face – the warm sensation, followed immediately by a quick cooling off of the semen. Sure, there’s a mess, but very little in any serious sexual encounter isn’t messy. And in my opinion, if you base your approved list of sexual activities on what does or does not cause a mess, I’d suggest you have an extremely limited sexual repertoire. Even penis-in-vagina sex produces a bit of a mess, especially if you’re not using a condom.  Using the fact that it is “messy” as an excuse is purely a cop out, in my opinion.

What does a guy get out of it, when he could just as easily cum in your mouth, perhaps, and end up with you swallowing it? Isn’t that one of those “ultimate fantasies” that guys have always asked for, and why would he do something other than that?  I do know there are people (of all genders) who believe that cumming on someone’s face is a waste of perfectly good semen.  If not spent into a vagina, it should be going down someone’s throat.  Once again, I find myself at a loss to identify any logic behind that mindset, but to each his own.

I think one thing that makes the facial so appealing to many guys is a combination of seeing my face, which is the embodiment of me in his mind, and seeing that “final result,” the cum, splattered all over that. When you add that to the “slut” aura that the facial has (only porn sluts do this, right?), the arousal factor is quite high. If I actually enjoy it, and convey that to him, then the arousal factor is increased that much more.

Now, clearly, there are some elements of dominance in the act. But dominance, in and of itself, is neither bad nor degrading. There’s nothing wrong with a dominant/submissive dichotomy during sex. In fact, generally speaking, the preferred end result in a sexual encounter is often the direct result of a dominant/submissive interplay (first in one direction, then in the other, typically).

A writer named Xorn Smith posted a polemic on Boinkology comparing facials and butt sex.

On the other hand, facials require…jerking off and a target. Even the physicality of the two actions speaks volumes: with facials the partners disjoin and physically separate for the climax while with anal you’re about as intimately conjoined as you can get.

Such a statement reflects a truly one-dimensional understanding of the nature of sex.  Intimacy assumes many shapes, not just one defined by physical proximity.  As I pointed out on Sex Hobbyist’s blog:

The problem I have with that statement is that it presumes a physical connection is required in order for the act to be “intimate” (which, presumably, the author substitutes for “valid”), when nothing could be further from the truth. The intimate spirituality between the partners is just as much a (valid) measure of intimacy as any physical connectivity, perhaps more so. So, I’d make the argument that a facial can be just as “intimate” as anal sex.

In my opinion, cumming on someone’s face is perhaps one of the most intimate things you can do. As I said before, the face is an intensely personal space. Cumming in someone’s mouth, pussy, ass, etc., moves the cum away from the face, and therefore there’s less of a direct emotional attachment to the end product of the sex. If he cums in her mouth, it is either spit out or swallowed (unless she’s one who likes to play with it for his/her entertainment, or perhaps snowball him), and therefore any attachment is fleeting, if even acknowledged. When you have cum on your face, it’s right there. It takes a huge amount of trust and confidence to allow a guy to ejaculate on your face as I see it.

So it is intimate, arousing, erotic, raunchy, slutty, AND messy. What more could you ask for in a sex act?

Is the facial degrading? Despite what I know many of the radfems would tell us, it can’t possibly be negatively degrading if both people involved are participating willingly. I say “negatively” because some people enjoy (positive) degradation/humiliation play and therefore get off on being “degraded” as a part of the sex play, and facials can play into that if you allow it to. You can decide it is degrading for you, absolutely. And if you feel that way, then obviously you shouldn’t do it (or allow it to be done to you).  Common sense, no?

But you don’t have permission to decide whether it is or isn’t anything for me or anyone else, let alone degrading. I would certainly argue that, at its worst, it is no more degrading than him cumming in my mouth and expecting me to swallow it (though I know many feminists would argue that that, too, is inherently degrading). If you construct an argument that when he cums in my pussy it isn’t degrading because we’ve both willingly participated in it (or is it because that is “normal” sex?), then you cannot rationally construct the opposite argument for any other sex act in which we’re both willing and consensual participants. Attempting to do so defies common sense (though that hardly deters plenty of people from trying).

To this day, I still can’t get my mind around the concept that someone believes that they can define something I willingly participate in as degrading to me.

I’ve had clients ask if they could give me a facial, and I’ve always said yes (assuming they’ve been good clients to that point). I know that a great many guys see this stuff in porn, and I likewise know that their partners either won’t allow themselves to be facialized, or the client is just too scared to ask her for it. Either way, part of my role as their professional slut is to help fulfill some of their fantasies, and if I can do that by allowing them to cum on my face, then that’s what I’ll do. The fact that I enjoy the act just adds icing to the cupcake.

Alexa’s Update # 6

July 28, 2008

Random thoughts and updates for the past week.

First, one thing I *really* miss about having Nikki with me is our sharing of the housecleaning responsibilities. We had this arrangement where she did about half the work, and I did about half. I cleaned the kitchen, dusted and did the glass, and washed the clothes. She’d do the bathrooms, vacuum and take care of the wood floors, and we’d fold up all of our clothes together (I’d do all the fold ups and hangups and she’d do all the towels, sheets, etc.).

Well, this past weekend I cleaned my apartment up for the first time since I got here - the first major clean up, anyway. And I had to do it all myself, including cleaning my shower and toilet! I don’t like that part.

Of course, Nikki’s having to clean a whole house by herself, so I guess I shouldn’t whine. 

I will be going home to see Nikki on the weekend of my birthday, which is August 17. I am *so* looking forward to that. That’s a week or so before school starts, so I don’t have to worry about it interfering with that.

Wednesday is the 30th anniversary of the Cheesecake Factory. They’re offering slices of cheesecake for $1.50 each, the price they were when they first opened (nowadays they’re between $5 and $9 a slice, depending on what you get).  Fortunately, there’s one just a few blocks from me here, so I plan to avail myself of their special.  Perhaps several of them. 

Kelsey has agreed to go out with me to go eat, my treat. 

In my story about Rick, I told you of his request that I be available several mornings each month, and explained that I needed some time to think about it.  Well, at this point, I see no reason why I shouldn’t avail myself of the money.  I mean, that kind of money for a few minutes worth of work for someone who truly enjoys it would be totally worthwhile.  I’ll explain to him that I reserve the right to opt out if I have a long night with another client.  I’m sure he’ll accept that condition.  More on this after he gets back in town and I’ve had a chance to talk with him about it.

I’m happy to report that Nina is back home and recovering from her appendectomy.  She left me a one line message last week stating that her husband was taking her to the emergency room at 5AM, without further explanation (And yes, I’ve spanked her hot little ass for not telling me any more than that!  Though, to be honest, I think spanking her is more positive reinforcement than anything else).  Her husband was kind enough to let me know what had happened two days later!  Anyway, Nina, I’m glad you’re home and recuperating.  I’ve missed my quasi-daily doses of Anais Nin channeling.  <3

The wildfires in California have largely left the Bay Area alone, but there’s one burning near Yosemite National Park right now that has burnt up several homes and has cut off power to the park.  I went to Yosemite for the first time ever when we came here back in January.  Gorgeous country.  I hope everyone out there stays safe.  I know another firefighter was killed here yesterday I believe.  He was from Washington state and was down here to help California fight the fires. 

I just got done reading a book called Rent Boys, written by a French sociologist. It’s an academic piece about male sex workers, and I bought it because I’d not really been exposed to any serious research on the guys before.  It was very interesting, for a variety of reasons, and was an easy read.  I am in the process of writing some about it.  There’s also a post on facials coming in the next day or two.

Anyway, I think that is it for the randomness for this week.  I have about a dozen new posts I am working on, all of them in different stages of development.  I have to be in the right frame of mind to write most of this stuff, though, so you’ll just have to be patient with me until I get them done. 

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