Grow Up
Have you ever seen a mom in the supermarket, looking at whole grain oatmeal, with a six or seven year old child tugging at her sleeve? Mom! Mom!
She’s used to it so she usually ignores it but this time she says ‘what do you want sweetie?’ The toddler is begging for a family sized box of name brand sugary cereal.
“Mom can I have it?”
“No, kiddo, sorry.”
“Pleeeeeeease, mom?”
“No.”
“But moooom, I want it!”
“I know, sweetheart, but it’s too big, it’s too expensive, and there’s too much sugar in it.”
“What if I get a smaller box?”
“It’s still too expensive and there’s still too much sugar in it.”
“But I’d really like it. I promise I’ll be good if you get it for me.”
“I expect you to be good whether I get it for you or not.”
“I’ll be good.”
“Ok, if you can find a smaller box that isn’t a name brand so it’s not as expensive and make sure sugar is third or lower on the list of ingredients you can get a box of cereal.”
“But I wanted THIS ONE.”
“That’s enough! We are not buying any cereal at all and I’m putting back your pop tarts.”
“But mooooom! Why are you being so mean to me?”
Sooo, yeah. That was me today. Apparently some boys just never get past seven years of age.
It’s funny because I don’t mind a certain amount of persistence, maybe one or two follow ups making sure I’ve got things straight and there’s no confusion, but there is nothing quite as baffling as “are you sure” as a follow up to “I’m not available.” Like… what? Why wouldn’t I be sure? It’s *my* schedule and *my* life I’m working with. Particularly if it’s a day-of request. I don’t know what people are expecting when they ask me if I’m sure. As if I’ll suddenly be like “omg I’m totally *not* sure that I’m currently on vacation and have no access to an incall right now and am two hours away from you. I’m not sure at all! Let me check.” Or that I will check and realize that everything in my life is a lie and I *am* in fact currently sitting on my thumbs with my table set up, makeup done, coconut oil all melted, and hot towels at the ready instead of with my partner at home depot in a sweat stained tank top. I’m so glad you checked so I could realize that I was totally clueless as to my own daily experience!
These are the things I don’t understand. That incredibly well prepared, kind, and respectful clients stress over being good enough while the octopi bro-dudes who hear every variation of ‘no’ I can think of in an hour get *SO* surprised when I refuse to see them again. WTF is up with the world that conscientious folks have to ask if they’re allowed to come back while the worst of the worst are baffled at their 86?
I cannot believe that an adult human could be so ignorantly persistent, dodging requests for screening info, inviting me to ‘meet half way’ to Spokane (Like, at a rest stop? wtf?), using the dreaded phrase ‘are you sure?’ and then be confused and upset when I ask them to cease all contact. Sigh. Of course this is simply to vent. I’m sure he’s either a very nice young man or some 12 year old wasting my time. Either way, my frustrations are simply that: mine.
Post Script: I wrote this some time ago and have since let it sit and bubble to make sure when I published it, it was in good fun and not in anger. I wrote it because I was annoyed and didn’t want to give the subject of my irritation the satisfaction of knowing how annoyed I was without getting some mileage out of it and hopefully giving you, my dear sweet reader, a chance to laugh with me. I have to shake my head and laugh a bit ruefully and remind myself to leave it to Rose. Rose who takes no shit and gives none, either. Rose who spends her warmth on kind regular visitors and holds an iron core for the rest. Thank you Rose, thank you readers, thank you regulars, and thank you little Timmy, for providing such entertainment and inspiration, ha!
Uncomfortable with Rights
I don’t know if you all have heard of the ‘incel’ movement but it’s an interesting social cancer and I see a lot of chatter about it on reddit and twitter. As long as I have no need to interact with these incels I find them fascinating, though if I actually had to meet on win real life I would be terrified and angry by turns.
An incel is a self proclaimed ‘involuntary celibate’, a man, usually a white man, often with bad self care, and always with a chip on his shoulder over female rejection. He has been ‘forced’ to be celibate because no woman will consent to have sex with him and when he watches others having sex, reads up on sexual marketplace theories and its place in Maslow’s Hierarchy of needs, he gets angry that he’s not getting laid.
The normal reaction when you try something several times and it doesn’t work out is to examine your premises and perhaps make some changes. In this case, perhaps stop expecting sex from women who aren’t sexually attracted to you. Perhaps work on that hygiene issue or your entitled attitude. For an incel, their reaction is to blame women for their ‘involuntary celibacy’. If only women weren’t sluts who won’t have sex with them then they would get laid. Some even go so far as to suggest that women be forced by the government to have sex with them in order to meet their physical need for and right to sexual satisfaction and in order to redistribute resources in the sexual marketplace.
These thoughts drift through my mind sometimes because I do encounter clients with bad hygiene, who are overweight, older, less attractive, medical issues, all the excuses incels use to justify their right to be angry at a lack of sex, and I *do* believe that they have the same right to access erotic services as anyone else. However: they have to be nice to get it and that’s what the men in this social movement* are missing.
In Maslow’s Hierarchy of needs, we have, in order of importance: physiological needs such as sleep and food, safety, love and belonging, esteem, and self-actualization. We will sacrifice safety in order to get food or water but we *should* not sacrifice safety for love and belonging, though many of us do. Very few of us achieve self actualization, but love and belonging can be conflated with sex and safe sensual touch and in today’s world it is not uncommon. This is what people mean when they say that warm touch is a need and a human right.
So let’s talk about rights now. I listened to a podcast the other day about curb cuts and one of the things advocates said while fighting for them is that wheelchair bound or otherwise impaired individuals have the right to get around freely and safely so they need curb cuts. In the sex worker’s rights movement I hear people say that we have the right to work unimpeded and safely. Even our country’s founding documents cite inalienable, god given human rights. Unfortunately, no one has a right that he hasn’t been given by others. I have the right to make free use of my apartment because the owner *chooses to honor that right* not because he is forced by god. The owner of my building has rights to it’s use as long as others *choose to honor it*. It could be taken by imminent domain, by force, or by the big earthquake and the owner has no recourse unless others *choose to allow it*. You see where I’m going?
With food and sleep and safety, you can theoretically rely entirely on yourself if you live in a place with no other people around. As soon as you search for love and belonging, however, you must behave in a way that encourages other people to *choose to honor* your right to physiological needs being met, your safety being secure, and your belonging. In turn, you must choose to honor their rights to safety and health and here is where the ‘right to sex’ argument breaks down. Your corn nuts don’t give a shit whether you’re an asshole or not, but your lover absolutely will. If you want your needs to be met, you must in turn meet the needs of others. Sometimes what you offer is safety from a bad home life, sometimes it’s love and belonging in return, often it’s a cure for loneliness and still more often it is financial stability (yes, even in marriages). You can kill and eat a creature without its consent or grow and harvest a garden without asking permission from the plants, but if you want to live with someone and make love to someone, you either force them, which I think we can all agree doesn’t work out well, or you work with them to reach an agreement.
This ties in with the argument that payment negates consent; that it’s a type of forcing. That because I say ‘no’ to sex but then change my mind when offered compensation, I haven’t really changed my mind, I have been coerced into sex which falls under the umbrella of human trafficking.
There are two reasons this argument is awful, the first being that it tells potentially predatory folks that once they’ve paid me, my consent it irrelevant. It encourages people to say things like “I paid her so it wasn’t rape” or “I paid for you so you’re doing it even if you don’t want to.” This is an awful mindset and as irritating as it can be from a consumer perspective to know your service provider can revoke consent in spite of payment, it’s an important thing to reinforce.
The second reason this argument sucks is because it singles out sex as the only exploitative labor. There are a lot of things I have done that I wouldn’t have without being paid. Cleaning the girls bathrooms in college, standing at a desk seven hours a day checking in hotel guests, staring at a computer for hours trying to figure out these stupid charts… None of these tasks were ones I ‘freely consented’ to. If your reply to that is ‘but you’re inviting a stranger into your body, it’s different’ then you are both right and showing your hand. Sex is different than cleaning shower heads and I am happy doing either, depending on the circumstances. But you have just revealed that it isn’t labor or payment or even exploitation that you have a problem with, it’s sex, and unfortunately that’s something you should be taking up with your therapist, not US senators.
*I say social movement because sometimes as young men mature and educate themselves they outgrow these attitudes. I don’t think anyone should be condemned for feeing lonely and angry when they’re young and trying to find a community of support. That said, a recent terrorist attack in Canada [https://www.vox.com/world/2018/4/25/17277496/incel-toronto-attack-alek-minassian] tells us that this, like many other movements backed by anger, is not innocent.
Do You See Women?
The short answer is yes, of course, anyone who wishes to spend their valuable time and hard earned money with me (and who treats me well) is welcome.
The long answer is “Yes, and…”
My pussy is straight. Kissing men gets me wet, having vaginal sex helps me orgasm, and my favorite flavor is blowjob. Biologically I am programmed to enjoy sex with penises and penis shaped objects. I’m very good at it and it brings me joy, pleasure, satisfaction, and a robust income.
I, however, am pansexual, or perhaps sapiosexual. I am fascinated by, curious about, and excited to touch and pleasure non-cis-gendered-male-people in a way that makes them feel safe and sexy. I am not as experienced with non-penis-owners but I’m getting more all the time and each new body is an exciting adventure. I’ve learned how to read the more hidden body language of the clitoris and to carefully interpret subtler facial expressions. I’m also aware, as a non-penis-owner myself, that there is a great deal of trust involved in receiving intimate touch from a relative stranger.
I have had gentlemen ask me if I could seduce their wife and pretend it was a random encounter. I have been asked to seduce people’s friends, girlfriends, wives, and every time I tell them no. I will not trick someone into having sex with me. Paying a sex worker to pretend she is just a pretty girl at a bar is a recipe for disaster when, not if, the victim finds out. I refuse to participate in any nonconsensual sex. Tricking someone into fucking me is not obtaining consent.
If, however, you two had a fantasy involving picking up a pretty girl at a bar and wanted to arrange the details ahead of time…
I have had folks ask if I would see their wives or girlfriends with them. To those wonderers: yes, but first we will meet without you for a massage and a chat. I want to check in with her without you present; the last thing any of us needs is a reluctant third in the mix. I also want to lavish her with sexy but non-demanding attention and to establish that she should expect more of the same when we are all together. As your professional third, everything I do will be for her. You’ll get what she wants me to give you and you’ll thank me for it later.
If you are an individual and you do not fit or identify with the above and you’re wondering if you can come see me: please, please do. Sensuality knows no shape or category. My hands are strong and gentle, my presence is warm and welcoming, my body is small and soft, and my heart is open. Perhaps you are struggling with dysmorphia or with your feminine sexual self after a history of shame or trauma, perhaps you need gender affirming touch leading up to or following surgery, maybe you just want a sexy massage that ends with some fun play time, or maybe you’re annoyed at all the pesky draping of a traditional massage and don’t mind checking out a pretty, naked girl while you get it.
Whatever brings you to my little corner of Seattle, rest assured you will have my full attention, my intuition, and a hefty discount.
So yes, I see women.
June updates
Whew! It’s been a whirlwind of a month and it doesn’t look like it’s slowing down much. I’ve been in and out of town, hiking, working out, writing, planning, and trying to shoehorn in more reading time than usual.
I had my first useful trip to Portland. I planned better (not perfectly) and actually got some good time with friends and family.
I did get a hotel too far out of town. It made sense in regards to visiting a friend of mine who lives out past Beaverton but as for everything else… let’s just say that next time I’ll plan ahead better. I also stayed up too late and felt the effects of that plus driving as my whole body health got knocked around a bit.
The good news here is that I’m confident in my Portland trips. I have a strong anchor client which makes me feel more secure and makes the trips more pleasant.
What is an anchor client, you ask? An anchor client is the one who first brings me to a new city. Often we’ve met on a trip that brought them to Seattle (which I prefer whenever possible) and most importantly they have handled all my mistakes with grace. Running late, not knowing neighborhoods, asking them to accommodate my schedule, making them drive an hour out of their way because I’m bad with distances and maps and things… basically they’ve been the testing ground as I figure out a new place and so, now that I’m a bit more comfortable, they get special treatment.
Now that I have a trustworthy anchor in Portland, I get to go whenever I want, which may be about every 6-8 weeks, depending. So keep an eye out, make sure your newsletter profile includes ‘portland’ so you get travel notices directly to your inbox.
What else have I been up to? Well, doing some home repairs, as always, and there’s a naughty party going down this evening that I’m using to introduce my voluptuous friend Jules to the Seattle crowd. She’s so nervous for her very first orgy so I’m looking forward to walking her through it. Newsletter subscribers will be happy to know that, because of the volume of summer travel, my four handed special will be extended through July so there’s a bit of wiggle room.
There’s so much to do, so much to think about but I can’t write it all out here. I have to go on a wine purchasing errand, ha!
Oh, before I go: I’ve been working out and sunbathing so if you were terribly attached to my creamy skin and slight pudge you may want to brace yourself. Conversely: if I was a bit too pale or a smidge too round for your tastes the last time we met, you may be curious to come see the subtle changes.
Work It!
She’s in such good shape! You’re embarrassed, shy, you know that beer gut shouldn’t be there and she’s going to see you all red and sweaty and it’s going to take everything you have not to stare at her all stuffed into spandex.
But your kids have gifted you ten personal training sessions and you’ve known for a while that you weren’t in the shape you’d like so you grit your teeth, mentally prepare yourself, and for the next fifty minutes you huff and puff and try to keep up with her.
“You did great! You’re gonna be so strong once I’m done with you.” And she beams at you the widest, most sparkling smile you’ve ever seen. Suddenly the agony of that last hour melts away, just for a second, just long enough to stick in your memory.
Ten sessions later and you’ve already noticed a difference. Stairs aren’t so annoying anymore and your pants don’t quite pull so hard at their button. And your instructor… the same brilliant smile every week, the same spandex, the smell of her as she stands next to you, encouraging you and talking you through your form.
Ten more.
Ten more.
Ten more.
You must be imagining it. She’s getting closer. She stopped wearing a loose shirt over her sports bra. She even started running on the treadmill beside you and caught you stealing glances. She smiles. Not just the brilliant, glowing smiles at the end, encouraging you to come back but smaller ones, looking at your ‘form’ as you lunge and squat and lift and fly.
“You know, I think you’re ready to graduate to more intense training” she tells you one day.
Is this…. It can’t be. But that look…. You used to get that look, when you spent a summer teaching bored, wealthy women to play tennis. The look that says “And by intensive training I mean enthusiastic sex.” But you haven’t gotten that look in years! No one looks at you like that anymore. Except you’ve seen yourself in the mirrors in the gym. You’ve seen inches disappear and muscles emerge that you also haven’t been seen in years. Maybe you are getting that look again…
“Well, you’re the professional” you answer, and give a nervous chuckle. You don’t want to make the wrong assumption and end up making a scene. “If you think I’m ready then I must be! What, uh, what does ‘more intense training’ look like?”
That is *definitely* the look.
“How does your schedule look Tuesday evening? Is seven too late?”
Your automatic reply: “But the gym closes at six.”
“I have a key.”
The look again
“Oh. Ooooh. Yes, seven on Tuesday.”
What the hell are you doing? It’s Tuesday morning and you still haven’t called it off. What if you get caught? What if you misread the situation? What if…. What if all the images and scenarios playing through your mind, over and over, for two days, what if they become real? You’ve been hard very nearly every moment since. At this point if you don’t go, you’re worried your cock will beat you to death in your sleep.
So you go.
The parking lot is empty but for a few cars and there’s a light on inside. As you approach the building, all the worry and concerns fade away. You’re committed now, no use stressing over it. If you’re wrong, you’ll deal with it. The note on the door says “Lock the door behind you and go to the green room” so you flip the lock and head down the hall.
***
Whipping them into shape is my favorite. There’s something both humbling and powerful about watching some schlubby dude accidentally get in shape while staring at my ass three times a week. I know they don’t stick around for my workouts. I’m good at managing, pushing enough, not too much. And sometimes, when the flab and the years of insecurity layered on by wives and girlfriends and the rest of the world gets beaten back, that hot young piece of ass he used to be comes back. That’s my favorite. That’s when I really get to have fun with them.
This guy is one of those. He came in beaten and dejected, hopelessly resigned, his flat abs a memory, firm ass long gone. And yet… Every week I watched and noticed him moving more easily, lifting heavier, keeping up better and better. And every week I could feel myself responding to him more and more.
Exercise is my most powerful aphrodisiac. Very few of my clients know how much they turn me on, that I’m using them, the smell of them, the sweat and grunting, to build fantasies every night. Lying in bed at home alone I replay my favorite gym sessions over and over in my mind’s eye. I watch them notice me noticing. I can see them regain their pride as I whip them into shape. I love telling men what to do; giving them the backbone they couldn’t find themselves and making them do what’s best for them. I use a carefully curated mix of encouragement, sexual enticements, and the invaluable reward of my approval to get them just where I like them.
This guy is finally just where I want him and soon he’ll be in this room with me, under my complete control, ready to sweat and grunt and pleasure me exactly the way I like it.
***
I set the scene perfectly, I already know what we’ll do and how he’ll respond. I get a kick out of shocking them so I don’t leave any transition time for them to get comfortable in between. The biggest shock comes first: from the moment they walk in the door until the moment they leave, I’m naked. Nakedness is the simplest way to throw a man off balance. I know they’ve been imagining it and I know they’re expecting it eventually but totally unselfconscious nakedness right from the get-go makes them so nervous. I love it.
There’s two of everything so I can make them keep up with me and watch while they do it. I’m not so foolish as to embarrass them but I never let them quite keep up. I am always in control, always the desirable end game, always just barely out of their reach so that when I do take them, it’s the richest, sweetest reward.
I can hear him in the hallway. Or someone with a nervous gait, at least. There’s always the chance the wrong person will walk through the door. I kind of like that. I revel in the shock on his face the moment he walks through the door.
“Take off your clothes, put on your shoes, and join me. Make sure you can see to follow.” As if he needed encouragement or permission to watch me move through an easy warmup routine. Movement, stretching, walking the line between overtly sexual and perfectly professional. He’s done all this before but he’s off-balance, unfocused. I don’t let him see my wicked grin every time his balance slips or he takes too long to start a new movement. We finish with partner stretches. First contact.
I’ve set the ellipticals to watch each other. I want to see the first beads of sweat on his forehead and his struggle to coordinate arm to leg as he tries to watch every part of me at the same time. I want to watch his muscles slip past each other and begin to swell and pump. I want to follow the drops of sweat with my eyes as they trail down his chest, those gorgeous abs, leaving wet trails through his dark hair, and slip past the base of his cock where, soon, my own sweat and the sweet wet of my pussy will be.
I allow myself an evil chuckle, watching his half hard cock wobble with every step. I do love a grower.
Now for the fun part. Weights. Nothing too heavy. I’m not pushing his body today, I’m pushing his mind.
Standing bicep curl. I’m behind him, pressed against him with my hands sliding around his hips to cup his cock. My face pressed into his back is salty and wet, my nipples sting with it and send an electric shock to my clit. I’ve been wet since the elliptical, slow drips running down my thigh, filling the room with a hot, sweet scent.
Chest press. I’m sitting on him, rocking my clit back and forth on his cock to keep it wet. He’s rock hard, distracted as shit, but I gave him light weights and with this angle I can give him instructions while I work myself up to my first orgasm of the evening.
Curl ups. I’m standing straddling him so every time he curls I tell him to taste me.
If I can’t reach his cock with my pussy I get my face in it, soaking up the musky scent. If I can’t get my face near it, I use my hands. No matter what he’s doing or where he goes, his cock is my toy. We go through my list, designed to touch every muscle at least once so I can see it work, watch it move, perfect its form.
“One last round of cardio. You’ve got this!” And I bend at my hips to hold tight to the frame, inviting him to sink his cock, the cock that’s been begging all evening, deep into me. I’ve been ready for so long, it almost hurts. I can feel myself swollen and throbbing and dripping, as his hard cock presses my pussy apart. I can feel every vein, every ridge, every sleek and smooth inch as he fills me. I can feel his flat hips bump up against my firm cheeks, then again, again, feeling the exquisite sensation of his cock sliding back and forth past my hot, slick lips.
Temple of Woman
I have converted and will now preach the good news to the masses.
I’ve begun attending regular exercise classes. I’m going to be a bit circumspect on which ones exactly because it’s a small world around here and the classes I’m taking are pretty popular but without getting too detailed, this is what I can tell you:
I feel amazing and I’m looking better every day. My ideal body type in women is closer to Sofina than myself: wider hips, narrow waist, generous bosom; the fertile, supple body of a lush woman. Unfortunately my skeleton is the wrong shape to achieve that myself. Sigh. I don’t mind the uber skinny hard body look sported by Cloe May or Betty James but it’s neither within the grasp of my cheese-and-wine-loving self nor is it as high on my personal preference as the softball bod.
If you’ve ever seen softball players as a group you’ll know what I’m talking about. They’re muscular but not skinny so what you see is the soft swell of muscle bellies on the thigh, the back, the chest and arms, but none of them bulky or sharp-edged. They don’t *look* like they could beat you up, but they probably could. This look is within my dairy-on-carbs-fueled reach.
The classes I’m taking focus heavily on strength and mobility over bulk or weight loss. I’ve been in advanced classes with beer guts, pregnant women, and a whole line of little old ladies and chunky moms. There is no judgement, no shame, only progress and boy howdy have I made some.
I was skeptical at first. I bought a package of classes with an expiration date; externally enforced deadlines are great motivators for me. Within a month of going two or three times a week, my quads jumped out and surprised me. I was just goofing off one day and happened to look at my thigh while extending my leg and there was a muscle!!! Since then it’s gotten only more defined and made some friends. My obliques are sore now and again and I’ve gone from a handspan above the floor on my front bend to very nearly flat hands. You won’t believe how far apart I can get my knees until you see it. And I can hold them there a surprisingly long time.
With the convenience of the gym’s location and the extremely advantageous cost to return ratio, there’s no end in sight. I’m able to eat more while losing inches (though not pounds which is acool phenomenon), I can feel my skeleton shifting back into alignment, I feel stronger, and I’m starting to develop those two muscles on either side of my spine that make a woman look so sinuous and sensuous when viewed from behind and a little below.
I’m rocking my super light, short haircut and I’ve been gradually deepening my summer glow. By the end of June I’m going to practically sparkle in the sunshine, between my hair and skin reacting to the rays.
My one and only complaint is that my ribcage isn’t tapered towards the bottom so while my core is getting firmer, the soft feminine belly is getting more prominent. It’s not growing and it certainly fits my frame, it’s just not exactly the shape I want. Sigh. I suppose I’ll just have to build up my ass that much more to compensate. And don’t worry – with the amount of cheese and crackers I eat I won’t lose that perky bosom you seem so fond of.
If you’re curious to try out an effective and mentally stimulating exercise regimen and don’t mind exercising in groups, you’re welcome to ask logistical questions in person. It’s not that I don’t want to share the good news, but there’s a difference between you surprising me in class and smiling to yourself and a stranger standing out front of the classroom trying to figure out which one is me.
Who knows: maybe I’ll get so into it I’ll become an instructor and you can hire me to be your private teacher…
p.s. Yes, I know it’s late. I was in Bridge City Thursday and forgot to take my computer. I’ve backdated this post because I had it ready to go but If you were looking for it and missed it, I’m sorry.
The Big Scary STD Post
We’re all concerned with our health and safety, right? I certainly hope we are. Well, here are some things I’ve learned when considering my health and safety that I’d like to share with you.
From the CDC website:
“Sexually transmitted diseases (STDs) are passed from one person to another through intimate physical contact – such as heavy petting – and from sexual activity including vaginal, oral, and anal sex. STDs are very common. In fact, CDC estimates 20 million new infections occur every year in the United States. STDs can mostly be prevented by not having sex. If you do have sex, you can lower your risk by using condoms and being in a sexual relationship with a partner who does not have an STD. STDs do not always cause symptoms, so it is possible to have an infection and not know it. That is why it is important to get tested if you are having sex. If you are diagnosed with an STD, know that all can be treated with medicine and some can be cured entirely.“ [My emphasis added]
In this post, I will list the most common sexually transmitted diseases or infections, their prevalence, and my transmission reduction strategies. No sex is completely, perfectly safe but there are measures I take to significantly reduce the chances of myself contracting or unknowingly passing on STDs. My top two strategies are 100% condom usage for all genital-to-genital contact and a constant eye on cleanliness. I wash my body with soap before and after each encounter to remove as much sloughing skin as possible (carriers of HSV and HPV, among others), I use gloves for giving anal simulation, I rinse my mouth with alcohol based mouthwash after giving oral sex, I cover any cuts or scrapes with a waterproof barrier, and I keep linens and surfaces in my incall clean and regularly disinfected.
Where appropriate, I will mention other additional transmission reduction strategies.
HSV – Herpes
“Nationwide, 15.7 % of persons aged 14 to 49 years have HSV-2 infection2, however, the prevalence of genital herpes infection is higher than that because an increasing number of genital herpes infections are caused by HSV-1
Infections are transmitted through contact with HSV in herpes lesions, mucosal surfaces, genital secretions, or oral secretions. 5 HSV-1 and HSV-2 can be shed from normal-appearing oral or genital mucosa or skin. 7,8 Generally, a person can only get HSV-2 infection during genital contact with someone who has a genital HSV-2 infection. However, receiving oral sex from a person with an oral HSV-1 infection can result in getting a genital HSV-1 infection. 2 Transmission commonly occurs from contact with an infected partner who does not have visible lesions and who may not know that he or she is infected. 7In persons with asymptomatic HSV-2 infections, genital HSV shedding occurs on 10.2% of days, compared to 20.1% of days among those with symptomatic infections. 8”
In addition to my standard reduction strategies: Prior to oral or genital contact, if I see anything that appears blister-like on or near your mouth or genitals, I’ll avoid contact with the area so keep that in mind when scheduling. This may mean no kissing, no giving or receiving of oral sex, or no sex at all. I will not give you your money back if you show up with a sore and we don’t have sex. I also specifically ask my doctor to order HSV tests with my routine checks as HSV is not on the standard STD panel.
A further transmission reduction strategy I do not employ is taking a daily antiviral medication. This method is used by anyone positive for the infection and helps prevent passing it on to an uninfected partner. Were I ever to contract HSV I would add this to my transmission reduction strategies. Should you find yourself positive for HSV I would take it as a great kindness if you would talk to your doctor about adding this to your daily multivitamin regime.
HPV (warts)
“79 million Americans, most in their late teens and early 20s, are infected with HPV
You can get HPV by having vaginal, anal, or oral sex with someone who has the virus. It is most commonly spread during vaginal or anal sex. HPV can be passed even when an infected person has no signs or symptoms.”
Pay REALLY close attention to this one, guys. It is safe to assume that every single provider you meet has come into contact with HPV and may be positive for one or more strains. You can’t test for HPV the way you can test for other STDs; it shows up on a pap smear as an irregular pap, or as warts, or as cancer. There are so many different strains that it’s simply not practical to find out about and all research is going into vaccines for a few strains.
Gentlemen: if you have daughters and you’d like to protect them from everything from embarrassment to death, please please please get them the vaccine before they are at risk of contracting it. The CDC recommends vaccinating as young as 9 years old, depending on the individual. No one wants to think of their nine year old as at risk for the kind of contact that exposes her to HPV but don’t dwell on it, just do it. This will protect her for her entire life; don’t let your discomfort keep you from protecting her, and don’t wait until you think she’s probably sexually active because, while it’s never too late to get vaccinated against everything we can, vaccines work best when you get them before exposure to the virus. My first likely exposure was around age 15 and I didn’t get the vaccine until 10 years later. Don’t let that happen.
As for you: wash your penis and the surrounding area thoroughly with soap both before and after your appointments This not only makes it nicer for your provider but helps wash off dead skin cells which is where the virus rubs off onto your partner. You’re looking to spend good time with any skin that comes into contact with hers: the base of your penis, balls, the surrounding area, probably inner thighs and up your belly depending on how wet she gets, and obviously your face. Also: If you’re going to manscape, the safest and easiest is not to shave but to trim close with an electric trimmer. I prefer about a half inch of fuzz to act as a cushion. I am extremely sensitive to stubble and razor burn compromises the skin, increasing the potential for transmission so simply be aware. If you cut yourself shaving, wait until it heals over to see anyone.
Chlamydia
“Any sexually active person can be infected with chlamydia. It is a very common STD, especially among young people.3 It is estimated that 1 in 20 sexually active young women aged 14-24 years has chlamydia.5
Chlamydia is transmitted through sexual contact with the penis, vagina, mouth, or anus of an infected partner. Ejaculation does not have to occur for chlamydia to be transmitted or acquired.”Gonorhea
“In 2016, 468,514 cases of gonorrhea were reported to CDC.
Gonorrhea is transmitted through sexual contact with the penis, vagina, mouth, or anus of an infected partner.”Syphillis
“You can get syphilis by direct contact with a syphilis sore during vaginal, anal, or oral sex. You can find sores on or around the penis, vagina, or anus, or in the rectum, on the lips, or in the mouth.”
Chlamydia, Ghonnorhea, and Syphillis are all serious but treatable. Signs and symptoms may include rashes, pain with urination, bad smell, and more but the best and only way to know if you have one of the above is to get tested. Testing is simple, easy, and at Planned Parenthood it’s not expensive. You as a client should be getting tested yearly; please do not lean 100% on your provider to manage your sexual health. My transmission and harm reduction strategy, as with other STDs, is cleanliness and barriers. There are reports of an antibiotic resistant Ghonorrhea in the UK which, due to the globalization of our world, may not stay there. Until I start hearing reports of it closer to home I still choose not to use barriers with oral sex but I am happy to oblige anyone who requests them and can refer you to colleagues who do as part of their routine practices.
HIV
CDC does not cite prevalence statistics
“You can get HIV from anal or vaginal sex or blood to blood contact such as shared needles. The presence of other STDs can increase the risks of passing HIV to sex partners and can also suggest the presence of other risk factors.”Hepatitis C
“HCV infection is the most common chronic bloodborne infection in the United States, with an estimated 2.7 million persons living with chronic infection (222). HCV is not efficiently transmitted through sex (170, 223).”
HIV and Hep C are blood-borne pathogens. My additional transmission reduction strategy for both is to avoid things like tooth-brushing or eating scratchy foods right before an appointment and covering cracks or cuts on my hands with a liquid bandage. Also not being an IV drug user or a member of a health profession that comes into contact with blood helps me avoid possible direct contact with infected blood. If you want really detailed info on blood barriers and such, ask Mistress Matisse. She cuts people up all the time and does it safely so I’ll leave her with that. As for me, I simply try to avoid it as best as I can and use medical exam gloves any time I might be exposed to it.
For anyone positive for HepC or HIV, there are antiretrovirals that decrease the viral load to virtually zero, making the incidence of transmission low enough to be worth the risk for most. For anyone likely to encounter HIV, there is a series of pills (I’m pretty sure it’s pills but I could be wrong) that you can take before (pre-Exposure Prophylaxis or PrEP) or after (Post-Exposure Prophylaxis or PEP) your potential exposure to infected blood or sexual fluids. I know a few providers who are on it regularly, others who take it the weeks leading up to and following porn shoots, and have a few friends who take it because they are in love with an HIV+ person.
As an economically privileged woman who has sex with men, does not use IV drugs, and who uses condoms properly with each sex act, I am in a low risk category for HIV but it’s a high consequence risk so I take it seriously. I have chosen not to take PReP or PEP due to the side effects but you are welcome to ask your doctor.
Trich (this one is new to me – I’ve never even heard of it until this post)
“Trichomoniasis is the most common curable STD. In the United States, an estimated 3.7 million people have the infection. However, only about 30% develop any symptoms of trichomoniasis. Infection is more common in women than in men.
The parasite passes from an infected person to an uninfected person during sex. In women, the most commonly infected part of the body is the lower genital tract (vulva, vagina, cervix, or urethra). In men, the most commonly infected body part is the inside of the penis (urethra). During sex, the parasite usually spreads from a penis to a vagina, or from a vagina to a penis. It can also spread from a vagina to another vagina. It is not common for the parasite to infect other body parts, like the hands, mouth, or anus.”BV (Bacterial Vaginosis)
“Bacterial vaginosis is the most common vaginal infection in women ages 15-44.
Researchers do not know the cause of BV or how some women get it. We do know that the infection typically occurs in sexually active women.”Trich and BV aren’t something you’ll likely get as a penis-owner and fall into the yeast and Urinary Tract infections category: Annoying, uncomfortable, serious if not treated, but easily done away with for most. You can help me avoid suffering from these by keeping your hands and face either soft and clean or away from my pussy. Condoms provide a great deal of protection from what’s on and around your penis but it’s nice if that’s reasonably clean, too.
Other Information:
You may see claims that the prevalence of STDs is higher in sex work populations. Nearly every study in the US of sex workers does not include indoor sex workers in their sample group but instead focuses primarily or exclusively on street based sex workers. While I consider Street based sex workers my sisters, they are very often associated with high risk factors such as poverty, drug use, abusive relationships, undernutrition, and a high incidence of unprotected vaginal or anal sex. These are far more indicative risk factors than whether or not someone accepts items of value in exchange. Note that there is a fascinating subset of providers who choose to work as street based sex workers but avoid the attendant risk factors so, as with all things, never assume.
We know that every sex worker working in the legal brothels of Nevada is STD free because weekly testing is in their contract. We also know that in Australia where sex work is decriminalized in most states, “Currently, there is no evidence that sex workers in Australia have higher rates of STIs than the general population.” The same page from the Australian Sexual Health Alliance states, as I said earlier, “High priority groups include street based sex workers, sex workers who inject drugs, culturally and linguistically diverse sex workers, Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander sex workers and male and transgender sex workers.“ Though in the US you might replace “Aboriginal and Torres Straight Islander sex workers” with “sex workers of color or native descent” in the United States.
So what do we know? Well, we know that we are in a higher risk category to contract the more common sexually transmitted infections due to our higher incidence of sexual contact. We also know that as religious and informed users of carefully selected and properly stored condoms we are in a low-risk category. We know that we are in lower risk categories also due to our avoidance of IV drug use, our avoidance of drug and heavy alcohol use during sexual encounters, and our regular testing routines.
One of the reasons that young people and people in marginalized communities are at higher risks for STDs is that they are often under pressure to have unprotected sex or participate in other risky activities. If you’re drunk when you bang and the condom breaks, you’re a lot less likely to notice. If you’re young and inexperienced, you’re a lot more likely to give in to someone asking for unprotected sex. If you’re certain that you’ll notice if you get an STD so you avoid testing, you’re more likely to have an unnoticed infection.
So what do we do now? I get tested every three months; you should get tested every year simply because you’re having sex with me and I have sex with other people. You should absolutely get tested every year if you’re seeing providers as well as me and you should get tested at least twice yearly if you’re on tinder, Grindr, or other hookup sites and see new sexual partners in less informed demographics. You can have an STD and not know it. Your provider can have an STD and not know it. Knowledge is power; don’t give it away because you’re lazy.
This isn’t to scare you, it’s to remind you. I want us to have the safest sex we can reasonably have because I fucking love sex when I’m not anxious. If I’m concerned that you’re not committed to safer sex practices, I’ll be much less able to relax. One of the sexiest things you can possibly do is check the condom to make sure it’s in place and unbroken. (You don’t have to as I’m on top of it but it is reassuring.)
Side note: this isn’t a hint. I’m not slyly suggesting that I caught something and you should check for it, this is just something I think about a lot and felt like it would be useful to share.
All my STD statistics and about quotes are from the CDC STD info sheets at https://www.cdc.gov/std/default.htm. The quote about sex workers in Australia is from http://www.sti.guidelines.org.au/populations-and-situations/sex-workers#testing-advice.
Thank you and happy humping!!
Cane, By Jean Toomer
In my review of H is for Hawk, I wrote about loving the personal history. Knowing a bit about what the author was dealing with at the time of writing helps me understand the context and more deeply love the work. With the most recent edition of Cane, it’s easy. I read the afterword first, with it’s biography and analysis of his influence, both taken and given, and it made my reading of his work deeper and much more understandable.
Cane is an older book, written during the Harlem Renaissance by a black man who passed for white for much of his life. The afterword covers his life, his struggles with his race, and his anger at the way others treated his debut book. I can’t call it a novel because the longest story in it barely covers 50 pages, but it is… something.
I read recently in Ursula K LeGuin’s essay collection Words are my Matter that poetry should be read aloud. I felt foolish, rereading pages at home alone out loud to myself but I’ll be damned if she wasn’t right. Jean Toomer writes fucking gorgeous poetry about difficult topics.
It’s hard to explain the book without sitting down and showing you but I’ll do my best. Section one is set in the deep south and features almost exclusively women. Women who love the wrong man, women who don’t need love at all, but always women connected to the experience of black people in immediate post-slavery south, whether they be black themselves or only exist in a black community. They are deeply sexualized which makes me uncomfortable as a woman and extremely, stereotypically, earthy black which makes me uncomfortable as a white person. That discomfort, however, is nestled within beauty, tragedy, and a surprising amount of resonance. Reading aloud the lines as they fit together and lilt across my tongue felt both good and sad. I’ve never known poetry to speak to me that way.
Part two is a series of less beautiful but more focused poems and also short stories about growing up black in the north where there is freedom but still great prejudice. His characters are fetishized and punished and terribly normal and for me it’s a peek into an existence I’ll never know. A world where people look at you and assume you’re less interesting or less intelligent or less desirable just because of a color.
Part three is a short story, almost a novella, that is likely semi-autobiographical. It’s about a black man who grew up in the north, living and teaching in the south. Jean Toomer got his inspiration for Cane when traveling, as a black northerner, through the deep south. The story is depressing but I’m not sure if that isn’t exactly what it was like to be there then so I took it at face value. There are symbols I don’t understand and probably never will but I think it’s worth reading, for sure.
I can tell I’ll need more time with Cane in order to truly appreciate it. That he can make the violent death of a rat in a cane field feel poignant and beautiful in only a dozen lines is testament to his talent. It’s a simple read, if not easy or fast, but it’s worth reading, for sure.
Experiments
I’ve tried being available day-of and found it stressful. So I’ve ended that experiment and moved on to new heights!
Boys are visual, I know, and I have a lot of pictures up around, I know, but they’re all so sweet and modest. I know that even the most circumspect class acts among us sometimes look at explicit images. I tend not to post those because it doesn’t fit with my classed-up girl next door vibe. But I found a place that feels appropriate. Gonewild, on reddit, is a forum for people to post naked pictures! Like, super explicit pictures. In order to furnish my beloved clients with an ever widening stream of pictographic enticement, I have created an account and posted, so far, five explicit images. Selfie-types, but without my face as I prefer not to be recognized by new anti-trafficking facial recognition attempts.
For selfie-type stuff, I have a snapchat now. Snapchat disappears after a set time, notifies me if someone screencaps my snap so I can control my image a bit more carefully, and my snapchat username is not connected to anything, really, Amie-related or otherwise. I’m not terribly active but I did send out a cute selfie of the return of the undercut and if I see something interesting in my daily life (such as cats or available boobs) I’ll send it out. This one is safe for work and reserved for folks I’ve seen in person and intend to see again.
And of course there’s my twitter but I’m only active in waves.
So there’s a few ways to kinda clue in, besides the blog, the website, and the newsletter, haha! I’m not naturally a big communicator when I’m not in the same room as the person I’m communicating with, but I know sometimes you want a little hi, how are ya in between get togethers so… Next time you visit, hit me up for my snapchat username and in the meantime enjoy those gonewild posts ;-P