Does it Spark Joy?

I joined the ranks of the Marie-Kondo-ites. Early in January I binge watched all the episodes and was inspired. I see why she begins with clothes; it’s pretty much all I’ve actually gotten done.

If you’re not familiar with Marie Kondo, she is a tiny, very sweet Japanese lady who tidies. Her show is kind of a reality show where she goes to people’s homes and helps teach them how to tidy up and declutter. It’s a valuable lesson in today’s consumerist world but the lessons I took deepest to heart have to do with respect.

When she teaches you to sort out your clothes, she has you put them all in one giant pile and pick them up, one by one, and see how they make you feel. Does it spark joy? Does it make you smile? Do you use it a lot? Do you feel pretty or sexy or handsome in it? Does it remind you of a precious time? Any of these might be ways the object spark joy for you.

If it does not spark joy, you thank the item for what it has given you, and you get rid of it. That moment after you’ve decided it’s not for you, but before you’ve given it up, that moment of thankfulness for something that doesn’t spark joy really gave me pause. It did two things. It helped me get rid of clothes I felt guilty bout giving away but it also made me think about the way we think about our bodies.

The second lesson I took to heart was that one of the first things she does after touring the home and assessing the damage, she takes a moment to kneel quietly and greet the home. You can see that some of the families are kinda like ‘okay weird lady, you do you’ but a few of them had an obvious shift in the way they thought about their homes. Suddenly, it wasn’t just this messy building, it was safety, respected, welcoming and welcomed. How often do we do that for our bodies?

When people come to see me, they are often ashamed. They can’t or won’t be in a sexually fulfilling relationship or encounter with others, or they think they’re too fat or too thin or too old or too hairy and they worry that I will like them. For years now, I’ve understood without having words for it that I appreciate and thank their bodies. Sometimes I’ll give someone’s cock a chaste kiss and a verbal thank you after their orgasm. But I’ve never asked anyone to do it themselves. The thanking, not the kissing, of course.

It’s been a beautiful revelation to try to remind my clients to thank their bodies. Thank your hands for the work they do for you, writing and driving and touching pleasurable things. Thank your eyes for the joy and pleasure of a beautiful sunset. Thank your feet for carrying you for years and years through new experiences. Thank your skin for the pleasure of a warm room after cold wind outside. Sure, your skin might be dry or hairy, but if you can appreciate it for what it can do, that’s one step towards loving your self a little more. And I want for everyone to love themselves just a little bit more.

“For Us, The Living” By Robert Heinlein

Robert Heinlein and I often agree. I felt he took it a little far in the case of Lazarus Long and the dissertation on why incest is totally fine and not weird at all. That said, his entire argument is to prove that an ethical code dictated by feelings is unjust and ineffective.

In “For Us, The Living” he outlines his very first set of thoughts and ideas. I remember asking my father once why the economy had to grow? Why, exactly, was it necessary to grow instead of reaching equilibrium? His answer was unsatisfactory but I was only around ten at the time so I didn’t think much of it. Now, I have a better sense for at least some economic ideas.

Heinlein’s ideas around sex have always jived with mine. He is a live and let live type, a proponent of the kind of free love I’d like to see in the world. He feels that uncontrolled jealousy is a symptom of an imbalanced and insecure individual, that relationships come and go as people desire them, that only when sexual relationships are truly free will women truly achieve equality, and many other currently peculiar ideas around sex. I say currently peculiar because they are only really well accepted in communes, large cities, and the occasional enlightened couple here and there. The free love and 100% consent movement is popular both in Seattle and in my political circles so it’s not particularly unusual to me, but it is to a lot of other people.

For Us, The Living, is a novel only in the loosest sense. It’s done far better than Atlas Shrugged but runs along the same lines: plot and characters are there to provide a platform from which the author espouses their ideas. Things happen once or twice but mostly people sit and talk. They are also, of course, impossibly successful and happy, despite what we know of human nature.

I am a proponent of a universal basic income and universal health care because wouldn’t it be incredible if those content to putter in their gardens didn’t fear for their lives and those who wished to take huge risks to benefit their communities weren’t risking life and home? Wouldn’t it be a better world if people didn’t go hungry and have to live on the streets? Sure, some people would choose to do so, but wouldn’t it be wonderful if it was a choice and not circumstance?

These things become more personal to me in the context of my work. It is important to most of my clients and I’d say a minimum of half of all clients that their provider enjoy their work. One argument against sex work in general is that it’s not truly chosen work, it’s forced by circumstance. I have many thoughts on that idea but the relevant one is this: wouldn’t it be nice if we knew that our provider didn’t have to be there? She wasn’t going to lose her home or her kids or her freedom if she chose not to see you as a client or chose another line of work because her universal basic income was enough to pay for food, clothing, and shelter. Therefor, you can be very sure that she wants to be there, with you, and could walk away at any time. That’s one of the reasons people come to me, I think. Because it’s clear that I am happy and healthy and that I have other options and that if I was unhappy in the moment with you, I could safely leave.

Of course sex isn’t the only thing Heinlein covers in his first novel. I mentioned economics earlier. I’m not a student of economics other than one class my Senior year so I didn’t always follow his arguments. They all sound reasonable on the surface and I would love to have someone who was an expert in current economics give me some thoughts because I just feel that I’m missing something. There must be a reason why we don’t do more prosocial economic engineering other than ‘rich powerful people keep us from doing it.’ That’s too easy. But Heinlein’s arguments, made through the mouths of his characters, make enough sense that I need someone to come walk me through them.

Economics, sex, and social responsibility. In the 2089 of Heinlein’s United States, no one hits anyone else, no one goes to jail, no one is so angry or jealous that they harm another and it all seems to work out ok. They treat violence as a mental health condition and sit you down to discuss and educate your way out of it. Not in a Clockwork Orange type of reeducation but in a sit down with smart people and chat with them kind of way, which I love.

One of his characters, near the end, says “It’s the United States in 2089, not a utopia” but any reader knows that a system that works that well for EVERY member of its society is, regardless of flaws, a utopia. That said, it’s one I’d love to try.

The Wheel of Consent


X Axis:

Who is it for? Is this kiss a kiss to turn me on or to turn you on? Is this position to get me off or to get you off? Ideally, we both take turns doing and being done in ways that turn our partners on.

Y Axis:

Doing and being done to are simple words that describe what action is taking place and where each partner is in the moment. Ideally, we take turns here, also, between doing and being done to.

Radial Axis:

At the center of the circle are the things I want to do for me that happen to be things you want me to do for you, and vice versa. Because we are not clones, there is space around the perimeter for things we are willing to do, things that our partner wants to do or have done that we are willing to have done or do, but may not be things we would ask for. Outside the thin blue circle, we find non-consensual encounters, violence, resentment, anger, fear, etc. Inside the circle, we find mutuality, pleasure, and fulfillment.

Things that fall in Quadrant I, Actions I perform, on you, for you:

  • Massage
  • Body Glide
  • Reverse Cowgirl
  • Administering warm towels
  • Spanking
  • Butt stuff

Things that fall in Quadrant II, Actions I perform, on you, for me:

  • The first 90% of a blowjob
  • Cowgirl
  • 69 (most of the time)
  • Kissing
  • Grinding through clothes

Things that fall in Quadrant III, Actions you perform, on me, for me:

  • Missionary
  • Massage
  • Gently flicking my nipples with your tongue tip
  • Gentle, slow oral exploration
  • Doggie sex

Things that fall in Quadrant IV, Actions you perform, on me, for you:

  • Oral, most of the time
  • Fast and/or rough sex
  • Hard-ish or rough-ish kissing or groping
  • Standing up sex

Things that fall outside the circle of consent:

  • Receiving anal
  • Really rough sex
  • Pinching or slapping
  • Tongue spelunking


I love doing things for you. It feeds me, it turns me on, it inflates my pride and it gives me warm feelings for myself and the person I’m giving to. It is easy for me, emotionally, to give to a receptive and appreciative partner. Far easier than receiving.

Being done to, even if it’s for me, is emotionally taxing in a way that giving will never be. It is often pleasurable but the emotional space I hold to both keep everyone involved and happy while also allowing myself to live in the moment means FBSM leaves me feeling whole and relaxed while an intimate encounter leaves me happy and satisfied but drained.

Because I am willful and selfish sometimes and because my beloved clients often want me to enjoy myself, I can take action, on you, for me quite well. The danger here is taking action that someone isn’t ready for, just because it’s something I like. I like to think I’ve done well so far.

The potential for infinite data points along the three axes make this a useful tool for communicating. If, for example, someone thinks they’re going down on me for my pleasure and I think they’re going down on me for their pleasure, neither of us are getting what we want. As a professional, I want to spend most of our time in the ‘for you’ half which gets wibbly wobbly timey wimey on us when ‘for you’ involves my orgasm, haha!

Whether we are doing or being done to, for me or for you, I will always vocalize where my circle is; you will never need to guess whether or not I agree to an activity. I will also vocalize any discomfort and suggest changes so I can focus on the pleasure of your pleasure. That is my commitment to you. All I ask in return is that you take and appreciate the gift of access I offer.

The gift of access is beautiful. It’s something I’ve intuited and appreciated since day one of my sexual journey, and haven’t always protected. The gift of access is something you give your partner, freely, that allows them to unselfconsciously explore you and take pleasure in you. It’s something not all can easily give but for those of us who can, we make excellent and versatile providers.

The gift of access is something you have to actively take. It is a gift that is offered, but requires some action on your part to access it. When less experienced people come to see me, one of the things I want them to practice is taking pleasure in their partner. I want you to look and feel my breasts and my pussy and my lips and hair and everything else. I want you to listen to my heart beat in my inner thigh and to my breath quicken. I want you to explore, slowly and gently, every crease and expanse and curve and fold. And I want you to be able to do it secure in the knowledge that I know, now, how to protect the gift of access and I will help you learn to as well.

The wheel of consent is a big concept. This post has been about four months in the making because there is infinite nuance and trying to distill it into something simple… well, lets just say I’m still not happy with it. Betty Martin is the inspiration for this concept and this post and if you’re at all interested in communication and better sex, I encourage you to browse the videos on her website at They move a bit slowly, but I found it worth the time at least once.

Thank you to everyone who either already intuited this or took the time to explore it and to those who are still working it out. It’s good stuff, I tell ya.

Reference Point

Hello Ladies and Gentlemen.

I love giving references. I love knowing that we all have a shared secret, that we are all dealing with many of the same issues, that I can do my part to help others pay bills and make bank, and I love knowing that my beloved clients are exploring.

I do not love, however, getting reference requests from folks I haven’t seen in ages or via text message. Ladies, there’s not much you can do about it other than sigh long sufferingly and ask for better information. Dear gents, getting a good reference from me is probably the easiest interaction for you that we will ever have. I don’t need to to give me a heads up (usually, thought it helps), I don’t need you to dance a jig or come back and see me first. All you need to do is be average or better and give your new lady my email address.

I’ll repeat this, but in list form.

1: complete one appointment with me (means pass screening, etc)

2: Don’t be a jerk. Easy as pie for 98% of those who complete #1

3: Email your new friend with your name, email address, and somewhere in the body of the email

4: Enjoy time with your new friend!

Addendum: If it’s been a while and we only met once or twice, it’s a good idea to rekindle our acquaintance before asking for to many references. If that’s not possible, I do recommend sending an email ahead of time letting me know so my response is as timely as possible.

Additional Addendum: Being a safe asshole does not immediately disqualify you from getting a reference. However, I will not lie or hold back on your account. References aren’t about you, they’re about the person you’re trying to see.

Respected colleagues, hi. Thanks for stopping by 🙂 Here is some info for you that I like to know when the tables are turned. If I gave a p411 OK, that means I saw the client and he wasn’t weird. If he is weird, if something went odd, I want them to give me as a reference so I can give you a heads up. If I replied to a review on TNA, that’s a guy I’m ok vouching for. I only replied to confirmed visits for folks I would see again. I prefer giving references over email; please don’t text me, even if all the client gives you is a phone number.

My reference never expires. It could have been years since I saw the client and I will still tell you what I remember. That may be nothing, that may be extremely detailed, either way I will let you know and allow you to take that information forward. I’ve started making (discreet) notes to jog my terrible memory but if all I can tell you is that I saw the client once and he isn’t on my permanent shit list, that’s all I’ll say and I’ll caution you to take care. It’s up to you to decide whether to give that a chance or to seek more information from other sources. In a very few cases I’ve actually written blog posts inspired by client encounters. If that’s the case, I will happily share the post title and link.

Providers: Please, please: if I’ve given you a positive reference for someone who behaves badly, tell me. I have been known to instill mild bad habits in nice boys and to have a higher tolerance for weird than others. If my client is nice to me but is not nice to you, I do want to know that. In some cases I feel comfortable doing something about it, in others, it’s just good info to have. I will always protect your name.

References, for me, aren’t about making it easier for the client to find new providers. There are hundreds of ladies and gents who don’t ask for screening; my good recommendation ultimately means very little in a client’s search for a provider. References are about helping keep my community safe or at least making life a little easier for my colleagues. I do appreciate and thank clients who give me a heads up when they’re giving me as a reference and it can streamline the process by jump starting my memories, but ultimately it’s not about you, dears.

Fun aside re: references: About a year or so into my career I began getting references from mature women such as Sarah Nicole and Sola. As a 24 year old provider, I was extremely flattered that clients who usually saw women with a wiser head on their shoulders were interested in seeing me. I take great pleasure in seeing mature clients but interesting gentlemen in the fifty and more category can be turned off by too young and inexperienced (read: air headed) companions. That I was as interesting to them as they were to me was my second milestone as an escort. Milestone number one being actually meeting someone for the first time.

References have also been a beautiful way to expand my social network. I scope out ladies who ask for references and on occasion I stumble across one I connect with. Keep them coming, loves.

Duo Review: Jules Curie

LOCATION: First my place, then a local hot spot, on the down low.

DATE: June 2018

NAME: Jules Curie

INCALL/OUTCALL: A bit of both

AGENCY OR INDY: Indy, though the back end admin work is driving her mad.

ACCURATE PICTURE: All of them, absolutely.

AGE: Mid thirties

PERSONALITY: Accommodating, a smidge too much sometimes, eager, insatiable.

RACE: Eastern European/Mediterranean

BODY TYPE: Generous, full figured

WEIGHT: I have no idea but what is there, she carries well.

HEIGHT: 5’6”

BUST: Again with the generosity. Every time I see them all I can do is stick my face in them. And they love attention.

WAIST: Well defined between her generous bosom and thick hips.

HIPS: Thick, broad, welcoming.

HAIR: Dark, almost black, a rich chestnut in the sun, with gentle curls.

EYES: Dark chocolate, tempered with a green ring around the iris.

FEET: Clean and painted, sensible but stylish.

SKIN TONE: A bit richer than just a white girl with a tan. Dark gold and glowing.

TRIMMING: As I answer this I realize that I didn’t even notice with my face right there. Haha! Must have been distracted. I think trimmed?


SCARS: None that I noticed


MOLES: I didn’t notice any

BIRTHMARKS: Nothing distracting

CLOTHES: Silk blouses, figure flattering dresses, and an enormous purse.


MOANER OR A SCREAMER: Moans and words of encouragement. As Lady Vi said: “I’ve never had anyone yell ‘green’ at me before, ha!”


MULTI SHOTS DURING THE HOUR: For her, absolutely, probably many multi. For you, well that depends on whether you can keep up or not.

ACCEPTS FRENCH: Yes, it is highly encouraged. Put down towels first.


DRINKS: A bit. Riesling, Port, and other sweet drinks are her favorites.

KISSES: Anywhere that smells impeccably clean, yes.

FRENCH: I will say this is my area of expertise, not hers. She can receive all day long but giving doesn’t carry the same enthusiasm.


RUSSIAN: Warning: cocks enveloped in this bosom may be larger than they appear. And yeah, she’s wonderfully accommodating so if that’s on your list of things to do, you can.

DO’s or DON’T’s: DO be polite and keep in mind she’s still figuring out the administrative end of things. Don’t skip the shower when you arrive.


SCREENING PROCESS: References only.

PHONE: She will provide at her discretion.

RECOMMEND: If you want to take a woman to bed who truly cannot be exhausted, she is perfect for you. A pure feast for the sexual senses, a never-ending smorgasbord of vanilla ice cream, a bottomless cup of tea.

COMMENTS: I first met Jules during a long distance hangout with a group of college friends. We knew people who knew people and ended up late one night, overindulging, while I told stories. I’m out to this particular group, some of them even read this, so I was answering questions and just talking shop. Towards the end of our group chat, she send me a private message asking to talk. Like many young ladies who dabble with the idea of indulging, she assumed it wasn’t something that could be done safely and independently. When she realized she could have no strings attached sex with a variety of folks AND chip away at student debt a little faster, she knew it was time.


[In the interest of discretion and because I got awfully carried away describing our day, the rest of this review is password protected. Verified newsletter subscribers have it in their inbox. Hint: look low.]

But don’t take my word for it. Look her up and see if you can survive a thousand leagues under the sea. (Did I mention she’s a squirter?)


I travel! Sometimes.

I tend to mosey around a bit, especially when invited by earnest and generous gents. I realized, however, that it’s not always clear to everyone just exactly how much, or how little, I travel. I thought it might be nice to kind of collect it all in one place where I can update things as I go, partly to enjoy the reverie, partly to let anyone reading know what’s usual and what’s extraordinary.


I travel to the Spokane area often, about once a month through the summer. In 2018 I went at least five times during the summer, probably more that I didn’t write down. That said, I rarely ever see anyone professionally when I’m in or near Spokane, party because it’s primarily a personal trip, partly because I don’t have a location to host from, but mostly because Spokane residents are resistant to Seattle prices and, more importantly, screening. I’m open to finding a few good men to visit regularly throughout the summer, but my time of actively seeking them out is over.

—2019 Travels to Spokane area:



I went to Portland at least five times in 2018 and I’ll be returning about every six weeks in the coming year. I now have friends and family both in the area and on the way to and from. Seeing a lovely client or three while in town is a great way to make the trip easier to do more often. It makes me feel like I’m not necessarily missing out so I don’t feel like I have to stress out.

—2019 Travels to Portland:



I went to Chicago once in 2018 and it went incredibly smoothly. My gentleman was exactly that, transit was a breeze, and I just found out an old college friend lives there, so I have even more incentive to return.


San Francisco

I went to San Fran once in 2018 and immediately fell in love with the city. I have a different old college friend living there who gave me a small downtown tour and I had one of the more intense and mind opening experiences in my career.

Walla Walla

I travel back once or twice a year to reconnect with old friends and enjoy the pleasure of wine country. I spent a great deal of time there in my late teens and early twenties and I though many of my friends from that time have scattered to the four winds, we reconvene to refresh our friendship.

—2019 Travels to Walla Walla


New Orleans

I have not yet been to NOLA but I am making plans to visit mid May. I’m looking forward to writing about it upon my return.

Las Vegas

Vegas is an enigma, a strange, alluring, yet repulsive place. I’ll make my virginal pilgrimage on a personal trip 3/24-3/26 and plan a return in mid June.

I will update this list as I go from place to place. When I decide to take a trip, the first thing I do is send out a newsletter blast to subscribers who have chosen a location near my travel plan. In order to make sure you’re on the list, check the relevant city when signing up for the newsletter and make sure you’ve opted in to marketing. My email service automatically filters out subscribers who have opted out. If you’re not getting location specific emails, you can scroll to the bottom of the most recent newsletter and click “Update Your Preferences” to make changes.

Hot For Teacher

I’ve finally reached a point where I can teach. I first had sex when I was 16 and it was awesome, but I was bad at it. I learned a little at a time, incidentally, as I found new boys to play with, and a few girls. I’m naturally curious, get bored easily so am always seeking something new, and also I’ve been doing sexy things at a professional level for a good six years now. I feel it’s important to be good at your job so I keep accumulating information, strategies, techniques, thoughts, concepts, communication tools, confidence, formal education, until something clicks and I make a breakthrough. Well, I think my next breakthrough is hands on teaching.

Most sex educators talk you through things, show you models, make you do cute exercises. To teach you concepts, but how many of them will talk you through eating pussy, using your cock as their model? Of course sucking cock and eating pussy are very different, but there are common core concepts and I feel very strongly that it is important to know what it feels like to receive whatever it is you are learning to do.

My sexual history is deep and wide. I’ve done long term relationships and one night stands, long form blowjobs and quickies on your lunch break, I’ve had sex standing up and bending over, lying on top, underneath, and backwards, I’ve given several hundred orgasms to cocks and a dozen or so to pussies, I’ve had hundreds of my own from mouths and hands and cocks and toys, I’ve teased and gone straight for the gold, I’ve had good sex and unwanted sex and mediocre sex and mid blowing sex and I only finally got good at sex about a year ago. I’ve read books, written blog posts, watched videos, sexted, chatted online, flashed people in public, stayed under covers, I’ve talked to folks about nontraditional sexual outlets, watched people get picked up, pushed over, forced to come, fucked by machines, whipped, tickled, trusted and tried, and I’m still only getting started in some places.

The least I can do is share a little of what I’ve learned.

The benefit of coming to learn from me instead of from videos and books and things is time and specificity. It’s like walking into a huge store and asking someone where to find the product you’re looking for. If you need a new set of kitchenware, you don’t need to hunt the aisles in the garden section. If you need strategies on how to make your specific sex life better, I can, probably, help you in just a couple of hours. It’s also useful to have immediate and concrete feedback and tips from someone you don’t need to impress.

I don’t want to make promises. Sometimes it’s not the sex life that’s the problem, it’s the relationship, and learning how to give good relationship advice will take another ten years or so. A little bit of relationship advice kind of comes with the whole sex life territory, but I can only help you with your willing partner, I can’t make your partner willing for you.

That said, it’s been a pleasant surprise for me to realize just how much I know about sex that other people don’t. Toys and lubes and condoms are just the first step. How to seduce a woman with confidence, how to give the most mind blowing hand job of all time, how to help keep yourself in the moment and how to forgive yourself when it doesn’t work, how to read a body’s arousal signals and home in on what works…

I suppose this is just me saying: if you’ve ever wanted to learn more about the sexy basics, I can help. I find a series of 90 minute to two hour appointments is an excellent format for getting comfortable, getting naked, and getting schooled. This isn’t exactly an ad, per se, since these kinds of things often happen organically; I’m writing this partly because I just had a rewarding morning with someone that went very much in the teaching way, partly because it’s really the perfect content for this blog, and partly because I want people to know that not only am I fun to have sex with, I’m also willing to pass on some of my knowledge. You only have to ask.

Book Review: Into the Wild by John Krakauer

Arrogance is a huge turn off for me. Its why I cringed a bit when writing Je Ne Said Quoi and tried to talk more about others than myself. I have no (well, few) issues talking about my weaknesses and things I still need to learn, because I am constantly battling my own arrogance. This is why Into The Wild by John Krakauer made me so, not angry exactly, but I sighed and rolled my eyes A LOT while reading about Chris McCandless, moron adventurer extraordinaire.

Into The Wild tells the story of a young many who left home back in the eighties with no money, few skills, and only the kindness of strangers and his own colossal ego to live on. Fucking dumbass. I’ll admit that, given the personal accounts of those close to him, he was probably a really cool kid to know, fun, charismatic, good at everything he tried, and apparently he didn’t actually sound arrogant, he just was. He met all advice against his mad adventuring with an unmoving will that, given a more constructive outlet, would probably have led to some truly incredible achievements. And as Krakauer points out, Chris did live completely alone in the Alaskan wilds for several months before his arrogance finally ended his life so he didn’t fail immediately. Krakauer is also correct that, had Chris walked out of the wilderness alive, we would all admire him and his likely subsequent life. But he didn’t. So we don’t.

Chris spent his life after college barely surviving multiple potentially deadly experiences, partly because he was intelligent, fit, stubborn, and charismatic but often because there were people there to help before, during, or after. Someone weighted the dice when rolling this character up and his innate ability to weasel, talk, or just straight up will himself out of dangerous situations gave his arrogance a legitimate platform off of which it eventually threw him. He hopped trains, walked out of the desert, hitchhiked across the country several times, charmed hippy communities across the west, paddled a canoe into Mexico and then to the pacific ocean, all the while congratulating himself on how independent and competent he was. This, of course, ignores the companies running and building the railroads, the kind strangers who fed him when he emerged from the desert, the folks who helped him portage his canoe dozens of miles, and the dozens of other people who helped him get from one place to the next. In this world, we are never truly alone and much of what he ‘accomplished’ would not have been possible without being a charming and handsome (and white) young man.

All this led him eventually to the Alaskan wilderness where he would live off the land, finally actually achieving something without the aid of other people. Unfortunately, without other people to rescue him from the shit pit his arrogance led him to, he fucking died.

Krakauer did a lot of research after Chris’s body was found into why, exactly, he died. Starvation, sure, but his journals let us know that he was eating enough, probably, to have survived just the few more weeks he needed before he got rescued. He really did manage to forage and hunt enough food to barely keep himself alive. He was already slender when he went into the wild so he didn’t have much to live on when food was short but he cobbled it together with some canned goods and supplies (left by other people for emergencies, not for manic flights of adolescent ego) and survived nearly four months alone before his death. Krakauer believes that it was not, in fact, arrogance that killed Chris. Apparently one of his primary foods was poisonous, but no one knew*. It hadn’t been confirmed to contain toxic compounds until several years after Chris’s death, a discovery specifically related to Krakauer’s continued investigation. One of the reasons it wasn’t known to be toxic is because in order for it to kill you, you ave to be a young man, eating a lot of it, and be ALREADY UNDERNOURISHED. It’s like this plant was tailor made to kill this one overconfident kid. If Chris had taken more supplies with him, if he had learned to preserve meat properly, hell, if he had even been just a little curious about the river that trapped him there longer than he wanted to be, he would have made it out alive, by himself.

The river, right, that was important. Two months in, he decided he was good to go. He had achieved his goal of living alone in the wilderness and was ready to rejoin humanity. However, the small stream he crossed getting INTO the woods had grown with snowmelt and become impassable. Upstream and downstream were two separate ways to cross said river, but instead of looking even a few miles in either direction, he just shrugged, assumed he’d be fine eventually, went back into the woods, and died.

The book itself is well written, thoroughly investigated, and a pleasure to read, aside from the content. Krakauer is a really great writer, as well he should be with his education and pedigree, and I am already looking forward to reading other stories. I’m just mad that this dumb kid took all his potential and sacrificed it on the alter of his hubris. Young men with a passion for social justice, bright minds, and iron wills are incredibly useful for making our word a better place and he junked it on a lark.

I will admit respect for his capacity to achieve quite a bit with few resources, his ability to live fearlessly at the margins of survivability. He did many things that I could not have and I probably would have liked him. If I had known him before his death, I am sure my anger would be tempered by disappointment and sadness. His family clearly feels his loss keenly and will never get over it. I have no sympathy for him whatsoever, but I actually think he would prefer it that way. Rest in peace you goddamn dumbass.

*Old theories say he misidentified a poisonous plant as one that was not poisonous but evidence suggest otherwise. It’s just that the plant everyone thought he thought he was eating wasn’t toxic. Except it is, under the right circumstances.

Hoo Boy!

I didn’t tell her until after. I didn’t want her to be any more nervous and also I wanted to see if she would guess that she was my first.

Women are very different from men, but past unprofessional conduct with women seems to have prepared me well. A few ladies in the area have let me practice performing FBSM on women, including some variations of sexual touch. I’ve also done a number of duos with ladies all over the city and have attended some unconventional group events that expanded my horizons and gave me some solid tools. Also, I have a pussy I’ve been practicing on for years so that helps.

Women are capable of incredible pleasure, both in quantity and in quality. We have a whole maze of sexual/sensual pathways and, as many of you know, I take great pleasure in traveling them slowly to really take in the scenery.

She was charming, with a broad smile and booty for days. It was such fun to watch her nervous excitement as she filled me in on a bit of her sexual journey and how it brought her to me. I subscribe to the reddit forum /r/deadbedrooms and it’s heartbreaking to hear stories of men and women losing touch with their partners and falling into traps of closed mindedness and anger. This was a different story, a story of an adventurous woman who had nothing left to lose when she and her lover went into a strip club together after a long stretch without sex. Several years later, she and her man have tried swinging and other exciting new sexual endeavors to great effect and this was the next step.

She had read my post about my sexuality as it concerns women women and appreciated my candor. She was curious to see if she had a similar feeling when given the chance to touch and be touched by another woman.

I’ve done this with men, too, who haven’t had a chance to just stare. I’ll turn on the lights and just let them drink in these forbidden images. Sure, porn is great for showing you genitals but really being able to get in there without the distraction of a sexual urge is a novel experience for many. And to then be able to touch!?! Without the pressure to do it ‘right’ right away!?!! So cool.

I also really love taking each other’s clothes off. It’s a little awkward, you giggle a bit, but I feel strongly that it removes a great deal of distance between two strangers. It’s the difference between feeling like an object to be dealt with on my table and feeling like an actual participant. I still don’t allow you to participate TOO much once you’re on the table, but those first few moments…

Se we undressed each other. I had begun to feel a bit of a snuffle that morning so we agreed, much to my disappointment, no kissing. Her lips looked so soft and I want all women to someday experience kissing a woman. Men are hard and pointy and with a charm of their own, but women are soft and smooth and smell nice. It’s truly wonderful. Instead of kissing on the lips, we turned our attention to necks and breasts. There’s always another way, haha!

It seems that nearly every woman in the world likes their nipples played with harder than I do. Take comfort, boys, that I even had to ask this lovely smooth soft woman to take it easy on mine. But that’s what exploring is all about: testing and learning and trying something else until you find what works.

Fortunately my massage training and years of experience made the initial massage part easy, satisfying, and relaxing for her. I like a full body kneading, just luscious cat’s-paw smushing from head to toe, in my massage so that’s what I work towards when giving. I rarely use draping in my work but I made an exception, partly to keep her warm, partly to keep her feeling safe and secure, partly so I could slowly expose more and more of her, seduction by revelation. Once I got her fully exposed, I got to test and see how she liked the full body contact part.

Boys are easy: when they’re excited, they get hard (usually). Girls are even easier: when they’re excited, they breath deeper, move their hips, make little moans, get warmer, sometimes tilt their chins back, curl their toes, close their eyes…. So many little signs and signals, sometimes more subtle than others, but always there. When my warm, coconut oil covered breasts made full contact with her back, I heard a sharp inhale and an immediate change in the tempo and depth her breath. It went from easy and even to shallow and loud. “Oh thank god” I thought to myself, “she likes it!”

I always worry about actually climbing up on top of women. Even though I’m small, it’s still a bit of a vulnerable position. I find it comforting under the right circumstances but the right circumstances don’t always involve strange women in private apartments. I suppose that could depend on how you define ‘strange’ but hey, she liked it so I stuck with it. I will admit there’s something delicious about warm, soft skin enveloping you; I can’t argue with that. And the subtle rhythmic pressure of hips on hips can’t hurt.

I was so pleased. Her enthusiastic and obviously genuine response inspired confidence, pleasure, and a reflexive arousal of my own. There’s something about seeing a woman turned on, flushed with heat, ready, curious.

When she turned over onto her back, I went slowly. I wanted her to want my touch before it arrived, to anticipate it and imagine it, so I kept my hands everywhere except between her thighs. I also needed time to assess her openness to more intimate touch. Rushing sexual touch is an easy way to sabotage a woman’s arousal so I deliberately slowed down. Fortunately, most ladies respond well to vibrating toys and even more fortunately I had one set out. Between that and a few other stocks in trade, we soon found a direct route to a sexual climax or two.

I have visual and aural memories flickering through my head as I write. Things didn’t stay linear, exactly, and I was kind of trying to do a few things at a time, between breasts and thighs and holding on tight as her body moved without control. Since I can’t feel the cocks we were using, I had to go slowly to make sure I didn’t do anything uncomfortable. By the time we were done, however…. well, lets just say that I don’t think anyone was uncomfortable.

In the same way I felt an abrupt change towards arousal earlier on, I now saw an abrupt relaxing, a few even deep breaths, and though I was happy to keep going as long as she wanted to, it seemed like the right time to take a break.

I’ve never been able to recover as quickly as she did and immediately start asking questions. We bonded over cock sucking techniques and I gave her a few tips and tricks that hopefully she can bring home to make good use of. The rest of our time we spent chatting while I rubbed her hands and feet and by the time she went to take a shower and get ready for the rest of her day, I was beaming! To be able to bring that kind of revelatory pleasure to someone… it’s happened a few times before when I’ve been able to edge someone a little and help them achieve an unusually powerful orgasm but to be able to do that for a fellow sexually empowered lady…

She said I had a way of putting her at ease that helped her relax and enjoy herself. She said she hadn’t had an orgasm like that in a long time. She said she thought her partner might like to see me sometime, too 😉 and maybe, once we all three get to know each other a bit, we might all three get together to have some fun.

I, for one, am SO pleased. To know that there are women out there taking control of their sexuality, embracing the power of yes as well as the safety of no, enjoying new experiences, and learning as much as they can. To have the time, space, and experience to help usher folks along, and to get paid for it!?! To have my chosen profession bring myself satisfaction and my clients pleasure and newness? So pleased. So. Fucking. Pleased.

Art. Lol.

I had the chance today to do something fun: share high English tea with a friend, talk for the first time with her about my unorthodox career, and visit the local art museum.

I don’t recommending outing your sex working friends to mutual friends without permission. However, it was nice to have the call of “tell or don’t tell” made by someone with a more intimate knowledge and better prediction potential. Friend E found out when she was talking about how she and her boyfriend handled a situation with what they thought might be an underage sex worker. In order to more heavily weight my advice and also because I’m always straining to tell all, I confessed my intimate connection to this young stranger they tried to help. So E has known for several years now. K, another book club member, is much closer friends with E than I am so when E drunkenly told my secret one night, they knew it would be met with curiosity, not condemnation. It turns out that K had, off and on, considered trying out my profession but, as with many folks looking into it, didn’t know where to start and had other fish to fry so never tried to find out. Now most of book club knows which brings interesting light to stories and characters involving the world’s oldest, and my, profession. I kinda dig it.

Anyway, E and K are interested, as am I, in expanding out cultural consumption so we like to go the the free and cheap museums around the city. Not as often as I would like, but more often than I would on my own.

The Frye art museum has an exhibit going now (and not for much longer) all about mental health, current and past treatment methods, an examination of the commercialization of self care, and some werid experimental silliness. Primal scream therapy felt fake. Which makes sense, because it was actors on a screen being actor-y. If you’ve ever know a middling actor who takes themselves very seriously, you’ll know what I mean. I felt the same way about the ecstatic dance exhibit and likely would have felt the same if the tarot reader had been there. I tend to prefer a certain amount of not-taking-yourself-too-seriously in my modern art so the whimsical and absurdist room full of short films was more to my liking. I liked the monsters and their periodic table, found the sound bath meditative and pleasant, had to send a link to the anxiety exhibit to a friend, and was disappointed that the guided meditation soundtrack was malfunctioning, but the most fun I had was the word-item association exhibit.

I’m deliberately being vague, because art is hard to share if you haven’t seen it and also because I’ve been feeling awfully capricious lately. I want you to wonder what the heck ecstatic dance is and how I saw it if it’s an art museum, not a performance platform. I want you to fill in your own ideas when I tell you which Items I associated with which words, and if any of you have a background in psychology and find this interesting, I encourage you to book an extra half hour because I would LOVE to hear what you think, ha!

The word prompts are on the left, my items are on the right.

The cradle Weird marble baby. Lol. Its junk is showing
Mother Mother theresa/mary/sant
Father Gumby
Grandfathers Pink stone pyramid
American Flag
Grandmothers I forget
German doll
Playspace (shrinkin) Toy whistle
The classroom (growing) Marble bust of weird old guy
Experience Shiny gold poop
heart break or heartbroken Headless silver skeleton
Finding my way Tape measure
Partner Explorer figure with dynamite
I am a “____” cat(s)
work/love dilemma Eviscerated innards model
Money maker Silver weird boob bust
Seven year itch Marvin the Martian
The legacy Busted arm statue of liberty
Family Acupressure map hand
A career Chattering teeth toy
Death Medicine bottle
Aging Dirty barbie
Descent Rubber Centipedes
The key Water cooler


I like having fun with culture. I like not taking things too seriously. I like chatting about my unconventional life with folks who have no idea what my world can look like. I like laughing at myself and I like surprising myself. I got a little of each this afternoon.


P.S. There is some jewelry for sale in the gift shop at the Frye. It’s frivolously priced, a vain purchase if made for oneself, but if someone wanted to help make me a very spoiled young woman…. Standing at the counter looking down, displayed on the right hand side, There are four pairs of earrings, simple gold strands with white or blue stone accents. My preference even conveniently goes from top to bottom: smaller blue, triangular white, longer blue… There’s a lovely necklace to match, but the earrings bring me more pleasure. Ha!