Gods.

I often find myself reminding my men that they are Gods.  Sometimes I feel the recoil and other times they laugh at the absurdity of that statement.  Nevertheless.  It is true.

All men are Gods.  All women are Goddess.  We have just forgotten, that’s all.  Imagine living your entire life believing you are just this suffering little human being.  Fuck that.  You are a God.  Accept it and act accordingly.  It will change your life.  Trust me.

I am a Goddess.  I might not look like you imagine that to look.  I might not act like that the majority of the time either.  But I am.  A Fucking Goddess.  I have an abundance of light dancing with the dark.  I never forget I am a Goddess.

I don’t know why we have forgotten.  I do know it is up to you to remember.  Sometimes I go out into The Wild and find myself having to mix with The Others – those who just rush from work to home – resisting to merely exisiting.  I exist in My World.  It’s quite lovely.  I control the temperature, the music, the mayhem.

I need coffee!

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Guilt.

I have been thinking about guilt.  I mean, what’s that really about? Why can’t we have what we want when we want it? It is a question I ask myself more often these days.

Surely.  If we are getting everything we need from one person then that’s gotta be the best, right? Of course.  But what if they can’t? What if there is a medical reason for their disinterest in sex? Or what if, worse still, they don’t know what it is that really turns you on?

If you haven’t been able to reveal your secret self to the one who should hold all your secrets – well – this is where we have the problem of guilt.  Maybe it is not a bag you ought carry.  Maybe you can put it down once and for all.

I fuck men who tell me I am the only woman they fuck.  Should they feel guilty? Nope.  Why the fuck can’t we have what we want when we want it? Aren’t we here to free our souls from this earthly bullshit? We are.  I am your priestess.  Tell me your secrets.  I won’t judge you.  Be you.  Whatever the goddamn cost.  Be you.

And for those men whose wives don’t want to fuck anymore because they have hit menopause – for the love of fucking please encourage her to have HRT! It will change her life.  Research.  Your relationship will thank you.

So.  Fuck guilt.

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Whore!

Whore!

I love that word. It is the perfect description for what I am. I am a whore. Now, many a man refuses to use that word with me thinking it derogatory. To me, it isn’t. It is a wonderful word – much like the word cunt. I own it.

A whore, to me, is a woman who fucks for money. I am not a ho. I would never fuck anyone for the sheer thrill of it. Sex is sacred. I know – what the fuck? Right? I get it. I love pleasure. It drives me. It feeds my sexual energy like nothing else.

I am not an escort. I am not a prostitute. I am not a working girl. I am a whore. As such, I will kiss you like you have never been kissed. I expect to feel passion. I expect pleasure from our interaction. Words excite me.

I don’t care what you look like. It matters not if you have a giant cock or a tiny pecker. But. I get excited by what words you use. I want to lose myself in your dirty mind. Come to the party. I am right here – waiting.

Your Whore!

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Oral Sex.

When it comes to giving great oral sex there are definite moves one can easily incorporate to ensure it is more enjoyable.

First.  Let’s stop with the whole 69 bullshit! I want to give or I want to receive – I can’t do both at the same time.

Second.  It is no secret that I do so adore the feeling of cock in my mouth.  It is sensual and a great umm measure of passion and desire.  I give my all when I give oral.  It feels so good sliding between my lips and down my throat.

When I get lost in giving oral sex I want him to relax and feel every movement.  I want him to enjoy the rush of feelings he experiences when my passion comes to the fore.  It was just yesterday that I told a client that when I suck cock it is the mouth equivalent of what my body will be giving him soon enough.  Do you know what I mean?

I learned long ago how to open my throat up for cock.  It is something that needs practice until perfect.

I have found that receiving oral doesn’t make me orgasm in the same way as kissing does.  I know, weird.  I think it is down to wanting to feel his breath on my mouth more than my pussy.  *shrug* I do enjoy oral and I can tell when he really wants to be there too.  🙂

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Sex Addiction.

In the past week I have had three men ask me if I think I might be addicted to sex.  It has given me reason to ponder this a little more deeply.  The short answer is no.  I am not a sex addict.  Not, at all.  If I were not being paid to fuck I would not be fucking.  Well, OK – if I met someone I thought might be worthy – maybe.  But mostly I would fuck myself.

I think what they are getting confused about is my level of arousal.  You have to remember I swim in a sea of lust a lot of the time.  I am surrounded by cock.  I am intimate with men in a way that arouses me.  When I say I don’t fake anything – I actually mean it.  I do get turned on all the time.  I get paid to orgasm.  I mean, who wouldn’t want that?

Once I am aroused I can orgasm at will.  I have lovers who fill me up with their lust and it can be so wild that it makes me blush for a long time afterward.  I have been known to say goodbye to a man and go back to the bed and just masturbate until my heart is content.  It isn’t that I am an addict, it is that I am a fucking woman.  I can orgasm all the live long day if I so desire.

When I suck cock I do so with wild abandon.  I like to think it is the mouth equivalent of what my body does when I am fucking him.  I want to feel it sliding down my throat.  I want my throat fucked.  Does that make me a sex addict?

I enjoy sex.  I like to think that becomes obvious when you enter my world.  I am not the victim of anything.  I am a sexual being having a human experience.

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Pornography.

It might seem rather odd at first that I am not keen on pornography.  My reasons may not be what you imagine.  For me, it is all about real sex – not performance acting so it galls me when clients come knocking imagining they will enter a porn set.  I am a real woman.  I do not act – at all.

I used to watch Rocco Siffredi back in the day.  I was enthralled by his animal magnetism.  There was something raw about him.  Interestingly, he recently appeared on some Netflix documentary.  He was a little more weathered and a lot more jaded than I remembered him.  Oh Rocco.  That road he ran down got a little rougher as he went.

I can tell a lot about a man by the level of porn he watches, not to mention what he gravitates toward.  It is worth having a discussion about.  We have to remember that those who are appearing in porn are performers, actors – that is not real life.  Real fucking is messy and breathless and all manner of things that porn isn’t.

Porn bores me.  I would rather get inside your head, pull up a chair and see what’s really trapped there.

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Our Secret Selves.

What are you thinking about at the moment of orgasm? This question was recently posed to me by an Auckland Dom who was trying to get inside my head.  And yes, it got me thinking.  What are my triggers? This, of course, started me down a road I want to explore more deeply.

I have often believed that we are drawn first by those early sexual experiences. Whatever triggered that will hold our attention for the rest of our lives.  For me, it was being spanked – I associated it with a tingling feeling on my bottom that was actually quite pleasurable.

Recently I have been enjoying the company of a lover who has a particular kink.  Seeing me has also meant he is living a secret life away from his partner.  I indulge his kink and even find my level of arousal matching his as I explore it myself.  I watch his face and feel his breath quicken which in turn arouses me so we feed on it and feed on it until the feast is devoured.

Anyway, we talked about secret lives which led to a discussion about our secret selves.  The side of us that we usually keep under lock and key – the side that we might not even dare to acknowledge for fear we will feel shame.  Shame.  It is a word that has no place in sex.

Even today I asked a client if it is different depending on whether he is masturbating or if he is fucking.  Is the orgasm from the feeling you have when my mouth or cunt is wrapped around your cock different from the orgasm you have when you play with your cock? The answer was yes.  Interesting.

Feelings versus thinklings.  I am going to ponder this more.  If I have anything more useful to add I will come back and let you know.

 

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What To Expect.

I try my best not to have any expectations when he arrives at my door.  I try to remember this sexual experience is not actually about me, it is about him.  Sometimes I blur the lines I’ll admit.

Arrive on time. 

This is always a positive sign that you respect my time.  Obviously, life happens sometimes and being late cannot be avoided but I do expect to be informed.  My time is just as valuable as yours and you need understand that.

Smell great. 

I love a man who knows that scent is important.  Take care to bathe before you arrive, make the effort and be rewarded.  I expect clean but happily provide bathroom amenities to those who haven’t had time to prepare.

The paperwork.

When you come into my ‘office’ you are presented with the opportunity to hand over the paperwork for our time together.  I may or may not ask for it immediately – I shouldn’t have to.  I prefer it to be placed on my bedside.  I’ll not count it.  I don’t need to.

Await instruction.

I have my ways.  I like my men to remove their clothes and lie on that side of the bed.  I want to look into your eyes and touch your belly before I take cock in hand or mouth.  Wait for me.

Talk to me.

Ask me anything.  I have no reason to lie so I don’t.  I am an open book just waiting to be read.  By the same token, tell me anything you want me to understand.  I am by nature empathetic.  Many’s the time I have laid with men who were brave enough to bare their souls.

Allow me.

I am a professional whore.  My understanding of all things sexual may be greater than most but I am still learning too.  When it comes to my own inner exploration I have come to realise a few things about myself that I will share in another blog update.

Let me guide you along the way.  This isn’t to say that you don’t have a voice.  You do, and I want you to use it.  Tell me what triggers you have.  Tell me your darkest deepest secrets.  I mean, if you can’t tell me you can’t tell anyone, right? And those are the ones that interest me.

Indulge me.

I have my own triggers.  Want to arouse me? Kiss me.  I can orgasm from kiss alone once I am aroused.  And once I am aroused I don’t want it to stop.  Many’s the time a client has left and I will lie there and continue to orgasm and gush and pant and fuck myself because I am not done yet.

Relax

After you have enjoyed your time with me you are welcome to take a shower and use any of the toiletries provided.  I like to think I have thought of everything.

 

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