The Impossible Happened!

I am sure in most cultures, men have been comparing sizes with each other, with the idea, whoever has the biggest penis wins. Porn, has not helped to change these ideals, in fact it seems to only have heightened the need to have a bigger penis. That being said, we must not forget the saying: its not what you have, its how you use it.

Some girls like big, some girls like small. Most like average though from what I have gathered while talking to them. One interesting thing about working girls, is they get all walks of life. This includes, the young, the old, the bored, but others, who just cannot get any fun at home. As it turns out, there are a few men whose girlfriends will not have sex with them, because their penis, is just too big. So they go to the professionals, and most of the time here too they are rejected. Too big hurts.

My ex used to love the idea of a big cock thrusting into me, not paying any attention to the fact that I am wincing in pain. I have had some incredibly big cocks, and I have always been proud of the fact that I have taken them like a champ. However, the other night at work, I found a penis that I couldn't take. He was too big.

I tried my best for a little while. I could feel tears in my eyes ready to down my cheeks. The funny part is, he wasn't the biggest I have ever had. The truth is, he didn't know what to do with it. He didn't know how to work a girl's body so that she could take it. I also realized, slow is not good for me. I need it fast...and somehow my body seems to forget size when things are moving fast down below.

For the first time in my career, I had to say, "no, I can't take you, I have to finish you by hand." I tried extra lube, I tried telling him which angles to point, I even tried to encourage him to go fast...but he wouldn't listen to the last part, and I had to stop the sex due to pain.

I feel as though a part of me has failed in some way. I have always been able to handle sex no matter how big or how much pain I was in. Alas, I have found my limit.

To Ask or Not to Ask

For the longest time, I believed that asking for what one wants, was rude, not courteous, and something which people did not want to hear. I then discovered that if you ask for something specific, you will usually get it. This being because universe has heard your plea or because the person finally knows what to do for you. But what happens if a client uses their asking as a way to make you feel guilty? This is how they get onto my bad list.

I had a client the other who was very kind, but wanted to do this, move here, do that, stand up, sit down, on and on. Though he was courteous and polite throughout the whole thing, which made me feel guilty for being annoyed, but I just couldn't help myself. That was until the end of our session, when he tried to make me feel guilty about not doing every thing he asked for.

When we finally got to the having sex part of the session, he asked me to put my legs down while in missionary. I told him that I could not do that. Understandably, during his frenzy (as with anyone), he was not listening past my use of the word no to my explanation. My reason for declining him his pleasure, is, when I do that position, the power of my cunt, sucks the condom right off the man -- not a good thing for a session!

After complaining to me saying "just put your legs down, it does not feel good for me otherwise", he literally came after 2 strokes...which to me is a signal that it must have felt somewhat good if you are able to cum not only so quickly after complaining but coming so quickly after being inside of me (no more than 30 seconds).

One could argue for his sake that after all of the "foreplay", he just could not hold it back any longer, and no matter what position he was in, he would have cum. I would have left it at that, but he could not. While getting dressed and making the bed (while he took his dripping molasses like time to get dressed) he tried to guilt me for not "doing what I asked." I tried to explain to him again my concern for my our mutual safety (a point he made very clear early on) he cut me off saying no other girl has that problem; as if I were trying to pull the wool over his eyes. (I should have mentioned most girls cannot cum while exercising like I can.)

After trying a little more to make me feel bad about not doing what he wanted I simply stated, "I guess I will never see you again, that is too bad, but probably for the best", he changed tunes very quickly and said that he would still consider seeing me because everything else was "wonderful".

As I have stated in past posts, you get more bees with honey than you do with vinegar. If you as a client ask for something and the girl says no, be a gentleman, do not try an make her feel bad for not doing it. There are many reasons for her choosing this position. If it is really important to you, woe her into trying to get it from her. Bribery sometimes works too. But for the love of Pete, do not try and guilt her into feeling bad. All that will happen is she will remember you as a bad client. If she remembers you as a bad client, she will automatically become hostile towards you, this is never a good thing!

Ode to my Penguin

Ode to my penguin

(My very first poem)

I don't even know if I can still use the words: my or penguin, but I don't care;

The confusion in my heart, mind and soul is one I cannot share.

I would give anything to hear the warm, comforting blanket of your voice

But I know that it would be an unwise choice.

To feel the protection spell of a pinky squeeze,

Is to make every worry in my life freeze.

With your low rumble murmur,

Would send through my fluttering heart a tremor.

But alas I know I cannot use the phone, text, or email,

For a true emergency is not what faces this female,

I know that my act would be a selfish one,

And in the end  it is an act I could give back none.

The tears that I hide in my heart

Are so full of love and hate I cannot tell them a part.

But for all of your flaws, and for all of my fears

The sweet memories of my penguin are like souvenirs.

The Real World - how boring

I should probably break this post up into many sections, but I feel, if I attempt that, I will never get my thoughts out. I woul then be forced to live with those voices in my head some more, which...who wants that?

Starting out in the real world at a stupid job is a very new challenge for me. Not because the work is difficult but because of the people I am interacting with (mainly co-workers), I feel so distant from. More and more I am realizing that my value system is different than most and this makes it hard to empathize with people around me and they with me.

I have spent my entire career with women who have charm...perhaps gaudy charm, or stupid charm, but they could captivate a person. They could make you feel as though they are bringing you into a different world when you sat down to talk to them.

But normal people. Ugh. They have no unique stories. They have no spark, no sizzle, none of the qualities that make you think, you, I must know you. They may not think I do either, but when a delivery man went on fire because I looked at him for a split second, or an older gentleman whom I opened the door for knew exactly what I am capable of due to a secret look we shared for a moment. Or at least they think they do. I couldn't imagine being in lust with someone and not getting said person, that would be awful.

What is worse is I have no one in my life who understands this sense of boring. All of my special friends stay with that work and all of my normal friends stick with normal. I have no one I can laugh and make fun with, someone who can jump from world to world. Someone who has the same spark as me. But, most of all, someone who has the same power as me, to make people feel good about themselves.

Oh to the real world: how we don't belong with one another like a lock and key. I feel like a quark who lives by the rules of quantum mechanics, though, they make up the macro world, just aren't used to the heavy laws of gravity and the likes of it. *sigh*

The Chicken or The Egg? Which Came First?

Sitting on the bus today, I could not believe how stupid I have been with men. No, I shouldn’t say that. I do not believe how I, feminist, advocate of women's pleasure, advocate of sex, has allowed myself to be stupid with  myself.

When I was just a little girl, I decided that I was going to play the game of sex better than any man out there. I don't think I have ever been entirely sure of what that meant, but I do know that it would mean that I was not going to cry everytime I slept with a man if he didn’t call. I would not care if he called or not because to me the reward would not have been him calling; the reward would have or should have happened during our moment together (that's hoping he knows what he is doing).

As it turned out, I could not get rid of the men I slept with, even when I was convinced by fucking them right away, it was a sure way way to getting rid of them. Somehow they did not teach me in highschool: it is highschool boys that will not call you back if you fuck them too soon. However, the the older the man gets, and the quicker you fuck him, the more likely of a chance he has of calling you back.

For some reason many people have been telling me since the age of 14 that I woud always be in non-monogamous relationships. Personally I do not know why they held such beliefs as I, myself did not believe their ideas. I kept wondering to myself, had I had more pride in myself, would I still have ended up where I did? Working seemed like such a natural progression for me. Sex has always been a part of my life, even when I had it become physical. It wasn’t the act that I was interested in, but everything around it. I was always curious about the intereactions of men and women. So, I do not think of me becoming a ‘working girl’ as something that only happened because bad things happened to me. By the time I had made my choice to be a working girl, nothing bad had ever happened to me, and the evolutionary process of what was becoming my counscious life, my choice seemed logical.

After wondering if there were other trauma's in my life that caused me to make the choices I had, it wasn't until I was speaking with a friend of mine, someone with whom I work with, I learned (I should have remembered) that there is always more than one way to de-clothe a girl. She had started out as a very prim and proper housewife. Later, with a new partner in her life, she discovered, she wanted to pursue a life where ‘swinging’ was a part of their lifestyle together as a couple. It wasn't her job that started her desire to swing, it was the swinging that allowed her to even consider her job.

This made me feel better. I realized that it wasn’t because I have always chosen men who would take advantage of me that I become a red light district girl, but it was the fact that I had learned to close myself off (by the tender age of 10) and had no one to teach me to open up which enabled me to put myself into situations where I was emotionally and physically abused by lovers. This could also make sense as to why I feel so much more liked by my clients, because rarely do my clients ever push my boundaries. Nor do they ever try and push for services after I have said no. I have also learned to say no, which is another very important difference between my working life and my personal life. 

I do not know why this makes me feel better. But it does. It makes me realize that it is not broken girls (or only somewhat) broken girls who are able to become prostitutes. You see, one must be able to close themselves up from their lovers in order for them to not have their souls ripped from them.

I have a feeling that this goes for both men and women. Many women I know say there is no way that they could become prostitutes. Why, because they cannot just give themselves up to so someone unknown to them. They have not learned how to put up walls and block off their heart, because when you do give  yourself to a stranger/client like you normally would in your real life, and they leave after you do feel as though a part of you, a part of your soul has been taken. As for men, many men feel they cannot see a professional because they like the women I know do not know how to block themselves off from giving too much to their provider and thus end up feeling used.

However, I digress. The point of this post was to prove to myself that I was able to make the choice to become a working girl not because I was broken, but because at one point I was whole. The real question is, why did I feel I could not say no, even when I wanted to. Or why did men take advantage of me? Why did I not see them as taking advantage of me?

What Is Love? What is Rape?

 Forgive the sloppiness of this post. I am writing this because I need to finally get it out of my system. There is so much anger and pain, I cannot keep it bundled up. The grammar and ideas have not been fixed yet. Over time I will fix it. Please forgive my poor writing skills.

Can a woman be raped by her husband? The answer I can attest to, is yes. Yes she can.

For quite some time I had been complaining to an old lover that he was doing nothing to turn me on, he was doing nothing to make me want him. Only twice in 5 years had I had sex when I wanted to, and one of those time he himself stopped it. All I got in return was, "do whatever you need to do to get into a place so I can do these things." This should have been my biggest clue that my needs in a sexual relationship were perhaps thought about, but nothing would ever be done about it. Worst of all, I should have realized that when he spoke of having sex with his wife, he would always ensure that she came first before they had sex. Never was this an option for me. One would think I would have learned early on.

Yet, it wasn't until I can officially claim that I had sex when every molecule in my body screamed no, and for the first bit my partner didn't even notice, that I began to realize just how uncared for I was as a person. In the middle of our sex, he asked if he should stop. With ice in my voice, I said what is the point of you stopping now? He not only continued, but he was able to orgasm even though he knew I was incredibly unhappy.

Never, had a I felt more violate, more used, abused, and disgusted with myself. I kept telling myself, I never did say no, but then a little voice in my head would say, but how was it that he was able to stay hard?

After he and I discussed how hurt I was, it wasn't until I went back to work that I truly started to understand the effects that he had left on me. It just so happens that many of the same moves that my ex would do, thes men would do as well, and everytime they would do it, it took every ounce of strength and courage to stop me from killing them on the spot. It took every inch of courage, (I am convinced I had to glean strength from my ancestors) just to get through a normal session. When the session was over, I would be quivering with fear.

At one point I was convinced I had finally made this monster understand the damage that he had done to me. Yet, all he kept trying to do was to force himself upon me. "I promise I will make things right. Give me another chance (ie. have sex with me). When that wasn't going to happen, he would push kisses on me. Trying to shove his tongue into my mouth. I would pull, I would protest, but he did not care. He pushed. As he would say, he is a bully. (And he had the audacity to call me a bully).

When I finally made it clear that he and I would never speak to each other again, he said, no one will every love you as much as I do. I could only laugh at that statement. What hollow words. These words to me meant:  that for the past 5 years, sex was only about him. Even his wife got better treatment. But most important to me was how he would pretend I didn't exist in his life.

What made things worse is anther man in my life, someone who I consider a close friend, as long as I do not have to see him in a private setting has done the same thing to me. We got into an argument. Nitt as we will call him, said something to the effect that he is a monster because he realizes the damage he caused me when he would have sex with me even though he knew I didn't wanted it. Yet he would continually tell me that he would have these elaborate sexual fantasies about me. One time when I came over, he knew I wanted nothing sexual to happen wit him, so instead of something sexual, I laid there like a stone statue. I do not think I even breathed (he was convinced I didn't breathe). But he kept touching my arms, my legs, my stomach. Eventually, just through these touches he was able to orgasm in his pants. I let it happen. I allowed him to use me to get the pleasure he needed. He apologized profusely for it. Why do it if you know you will regret it. Why would I let it happen? Lack of care for myself. I didn't think I was allowed to say no. Whenever I said no, no one would ever stop, they just continued harrassing me. It was easier just to let them do it. I have been too good at closing myself off from the world.

However, it wasn't until someone actually made me feel as though my opinion counted that I realized what I was missing in the world.

My monster kept demanding "get to a place so I can give you pleasure." He could never understand that it was his responsibility to be the one to get me to that place. However, my White Knight in shining armor, a young man, was the one who finally convinced me that I was a real person. He wanted to go down on me and asked, what can I do to make you comfortable with it? He came up with some ideas too. I was so shocked I just about cried from happiness. How does a young man with so little experience in the world, especially in the world of sex, know to ask how he can make it better for me. How he can be the one to try and ease me into what he would love to do. How he made it about us; exploring each other.

The next week, after my rape, I have to admit even being with a man I loved was difficult. But he could see that I was tense and he took things so slowly with me. He would spend so much time just looking at me, touching me. Holding me. Finally, one morning we were having sex, yet the night before he had really hurt me with his fringers (I have a feeling I am more sensitive than most people). I had to go to work later that morning, and I tried to have sex with him. Every other man in my life would have had sex with me before I went to work to ensure, they got theirs first.

During sex, my Knight realized that I was not enjoying myself and that I was actually in pain. He asked if he should stop, and I of course, as usual said no. He kept going for about thirty seconds, but then he just got off slowly. I asked what was wrong and he looked at me and said "you have to go to work later, I am not going to be the one that hurts you. You need your body, I cannot take that from you."

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. Never before has a man ever sacrificed himself like that for me. Never has my work come over his ego and his pleasure. I had been fighting a man who swore up and down that he loved me and when I accused him  of rape he still kept pushing. He said as long as I don't fuck anyone else (be it work or my Knight) then he will stop having sex with me and we can be friends, but if not, he will not wait around so that some Tom, Dick and Harry can have their way with me and he cannot. He pushed to kiss me, he pushed to 'prove' himself in bed. But my Knight just wanted what was best for me and that was to let my body heal.

Slowly as time passes with my Knight, I am beginning to realize the notion of how 'women must like their men before they have sex.' I wish I had learned how to feel that much earlier in my life. I wish I had learned how to say no. I wish I had learned how to love myself more. Do no get me wrong. My work has taught me more than I can explain. It has taught me just how important I am to myself. It has taught me how to protect myself both physically and mentally. It has taught me some interesting facts about the male gender as well. But I can finally understand the other side of the coin when women say, prostitution should not be a way of life.

It is true that a person must have a particular personality in order to give themselves up so freely, and so selflessly. For the first time in my life, I have a reason to now wish to do my work. I am losing my drive to work. That being said I would not have given up the experience. it is not something I would ever change. But for the first time in my life, I can finally see a world in which I do not want to be a prostitute.

Young Adult

After watching the movie Young Adult, I cannot help but feel guilt deep inside my heart and I feel that I must write about it in the hopes to get it out.

Charlize Theron plays a woman who goes back to her small town in the hopes of getting back her old flame who just happened to have a new baby girl. She believes that they were meant to be together and that she will help him out of his very unhappy life. At the same time she meets another student from highschool who she never noticed during their time in school; he wasn't good enough her to notice him.

Within the movie, she ends up literally going crazy, and while most of the people feel sorry for her, there is a part of her that is still that cool girl from highschool, the pretty girl that is Finally paying attention to the "losers in school."

I never spent much time in highschool, I was too busy skipping class or trying to spend time with older people. But I did surround myself with those who I knew (whether I am worthy or not) they believed I was "out of their league". I used this to my advantage to glean as much attention and praise that I could.

I do not think that I would ever go crazy over someone, I prefer them going crazy for me. But I do go after the married man, whether they are happy or not. I make sure they seek me out first, I would never make the first move on someone in a relationship. However, taking a person away from their relationship is merely not enough for me. I am not a person to say no to multiple people giving me attention. I do everything I can to make the others around me happy. I suppose it is not proper to say, but I am good at it, and it comes as naturally to me as breathing does. I believe in the language of the heart and soul as J'kar has said. It is the heart and soul that I feed off of. It is the heart and soul I need, I crave, I yearn for.

When Theron finally does sleep with her "lesser" friend someone in the room asked why she would do such a thing; how quickly I was able to respond, because that is what a girl in distress does. She finds the one person who will take her with all of her flaws and still worship her as the goddess she knows she is. As he said in the movie, "men like us were born worshiping women like you" or something to very close.

I can find the men who will worship me no matter the cost to them. I pray on them as a spider in web. She may not eat her fly right away but she will. Perhaps there is a reason why I hate spiders, I see too much of myself in them. Reflection is never fun.

What is worse after this confession I know I will not stop. Perhaps some of you will only see me as a woman who will use a man for money. To be completely honest, I am terrible at this. But to take a man's soul from him...that is something I am quite capable of doing, and I cannot see an end to it. I just hope for those whom I use, I am able to make even happier so they feel that it was worth being used.

Forgive me.