The Blog

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What a View

I write from the old couch before a new window. Heat makes the gauze ripple gently at the corner of my eye. Cold warm light filters between the skyscrapers to make my carpet glow. I want to curl up on the puddle of light like a smooth cat, luxurious and purring.

As the clouds gently drift up, up over my head to disappear behind the wall, the bits of blue between them wink at me. I love the blue sky. It reminds me of warmth and wide open spaces and happy summer times. It’s so quiet up here. It’ll get noisy again as neighbors come home and the ssshhh of their shoes slips under the gap in my door.

I’m warm but not quite comfortable. The table is just too high and I can only sit in a position for so long before I have to adjust or the joints at my knees and hips and ankles and back start to stiffen.

Haha, stiffen. I’m a middle school boy at heart. I think boners and butts are funny and I can’t not make a “that’s what she said” or “your mom” joke when the opportunity presents. For all that I take myself far too seriously, I can’t take myself seriously. Doubt prickles my boundaries, constantly seeking reassurance. Funny that people literally putting their money where their mouth is only works for so long before you start doubting Their judgement, haha! Does that little doubting T ever go away?

My water is green. I’ve been concerned about the way I smell lately. Every time you kiss me there I have to wonder if you’re only doing it because you think you’re supposed to. I kiss you after and sometimes it’s strong enough that I can’t imagine. So I’m drinking chlorophyll on the advice of Matisse of the immaculate figure. It’s incredible how much time we spend thinking about each other. My day revolves around how to best please you. Is it the bold, confident side of me that quivers you the most or the quiet, meditative me? Perhaps the nearly childish, giggler in me or the sultry, smoky seductress. Sometimes the woman at the door simply carries you along with her, the music or the moonlight leading the way and she dragging you along behind. Others, she watches and waits for your vibe to show and follows your lead.

Three hours ago, when you were in a meeting or clearing the nocturnal accumulation of digital converse from your device(s), I was planning for you. Mentally mapping the day so I could be everything for you, including on time. Or at least no more than five minutes behind. Does this have garlic in it? Better not eat it until tonight. Do I have time for the micro abrasions in my mouth to heal before lavishing your cock with oral attention or will mouthwash and gum have to suffice? Better make sure the laundry is dry so I have a clean, fresh towel for you.

This is why I like my days to end early(ish). My morning is yours, even if I won’t see you until late.

I’ve finally got my books mostly organized. My system makes sense. I can’t wait to see if anyone can guess it. It’s fairly broad; categories more than individual titles. Then I found a stack of books that I shoved in a closet last week. Sigh. No more room in the book and breakfast. I may have to buy a bookcase.

But I don’t want to! What I want to buy is a nice bar, with a dark wooden top on it that opens to reveal funky infusions like bacon and sage vodka or a proprietary orange liqueur. I would make room for that. And use of it. I love flavors and booze is a great vehicle. Plus the pieces just look nice. Ah, someday.

I broke a nail moving furniture the other day. My nails are pathetically fragile but I insist on painting them still. After watching all four or five or however many seasons of Lost Girl, with their perfect makeup and perfect hair and perfect nails, I figured I could nail at least two out of three consistently. Haha, nail. They grow back, of course, but it’s no less of a pain because it’s temporary.

Life is pretty good. The rest of my month is reasonably relaxed, full of lovely people and pleasant experiences. The move is pretty much done, though there are still gaps to fill here and there, and I’m looking forward to a contemplative winter. I just feel…. Good. Stimulated and satisfied and accomplished and loved and just, good. Funny how creativity, for me, strikes at my moments of deepest contentment.

Happy Winter Holidays, everyone.

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Duo Rev: Sofina

For all the time we’ve spent together, I only finally got to do a duo with Sofina!

LOCATION: My place on First Hill
DATE: Late November 2017
NAME: Sofina
INCALL/OUTCALL: In this time but she does out calls on request
AGENCY OR INDY: Indy
ACCURATE PICTURE: All of them
AGE: Around my age
PERSONALITY: Chill, nerdy, playful, introverted but socially adept
RACE: Another of my garden variety white girls, haha
BODY TYPE: Hourglass in every way
WEIGHT: I have no idea but at least half of it is bum and bosom
HEIGHT: An inch or two taller than me
BUST: I’d have to guess 34 DD minimum. Beautiful and soft.
WAIST: Ridiculously smaller than her bust or hips
HIPS: Wide, round, and joyous to watch
HAIR: Dark, long, straight. The Ramona Quimby
EYES: Big dark eyes
FEET: Absolutely fine
SKIN TONE: ‘Seattle Tan’ (meaning pale, soft, firm)
TRIMMING: It’s all there in its glory
TATTOOS: None
SCARS: A few, here and there
PIERCINGS: Ears
MOLES/BIRTHMARKS: Nothing I noticed
CLOTHES: Loose, straight pants and t shirt, changed into a mini skirt upon request. Also Strap-on, haha!
GLASSES: SOOOO Cute with the glasssses. she had to take them off to fit, ahem, in tight spaces.
MOANER OR A SCREAMER: Moderate, encouraging dirty talk and playful banter
ENERGY LEVEL DURING THE SESSION: High and playful
MULTI SHOTS DURING THE HOUR: I have a hunch that she, like me, is willing, depending on where you are.
ACCEPTS FRENCH: Of course, but didn’t get around to it this time
SMOKES: Nope
DRINKS: Probably would, lightly, depending.
KISSES: Error: Not enough data. Please create opportunities for more kissing ;-P (firm and close, soft, rhythmic, just the way I like it)
FRENCH: Covered for boys. She gave me a taste, as it were. Very delicate and she pays attention!
GREEK: She would happily bring her strap-on and take you there, haha, but I don’t think you’ll get to take her
RUSSIAN: Oh dude, I think Mallory Sierra and Sarah Nicole are the only other two so well equipped for it.
DO’s or DON’T’s: DO be nice, DO communicate well, DON’T be a jerk
WEB-SITE: http://www.sitekreator.com/sofina206
SCREENING PROCESS: References, not sure of other options
PHONE: She will provide at her discretion
RATES: 300/430/560 for 60/90/120 minutes, FBSM and cuddles available, return client discount available.
RECOMMEND: Absolutely. She describes herself as the girl you wish lived next door and she’s right.
COMMENTS:
Sofina’s strengths are in her super great attitude and her wide ranging experience. She has a way of putting you at ease quickly and she’s up for things you might not normally find in your average girlfriend or escort experience. Her look is very low-key, not a lot of makeup, no crazy hair, plain, loose clothes; she’s your dog walker or your babysitter… Until she gets undressed. Sofina has the classic hourglass figure with wide, lush hips, a massive, soft bosom, and a tiny waist in between. She’s totally unselfconscious and you will be, too, when you’re with her. She’s the textbook definition of ‘good, giving, game’ and is a generous lover. She also has way more muscle than I expected, haha!

I mentioned I had a lovely friend with a few unusual requests and I needed someone to help me fulfil them. She stopped by during a long adventure to play strip twister and then help me ‘make a sandwich’. She didn’t lose a single game! And still had the stamina to make good use of our fun toys. I was impressed by her creativity and good nature. After we finished our lovely manwich and got ourselves tidied up, we chatted about the inner workings of the strip club while our victim listened and learned. She and I tend to forget there are other people in the room when we talk but she was good about including him in our group chat and he and I were both pleased by her addition to our adventure.

Sofina is one of those people who is even more beautiful because of who she is. She glows with a charming light that makes you forget the world and she is a safe, kind, thoughtful person. If you’re looking for a low-pressure provider, a sweet girl who just wants to see you happy, or are thinking of some unusual activities but aren’t quite looking for a domme, she’s a good fit.

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Happy Thanksgiving

I’m always grateful for my wonderful friends and beloved clients but every year for the last few I’ve written about it. I write about it often enough, anyway, but Thanksgiving just seems like such an appropriate time to do so thoroughly.

I hope you all had a lovely time with your families and friends, I hope you all have been enjoying the mild weather here, and thank you for helping me reach my goals. If next month is anything like the last eleven, I’ll have reached my monthly and yearly financial goals and then some. As a result of recent changes, I’ve been able to spread my time around. I’ve been working on a re-redesign of my website that should be done soon, I’ve been working on sites for a few close friends, looking into grant writing and policy shaping, and of course doing some volunteering at an animal shelter. I also moved to a new apartment in the same building which meant a whole round of moving things and setting new stuff up, all I need now is some nice art for the walls and to hang up my mirrors (still).

It feels so good to have a new, beautiful space to entertain and amuse. Finding a place for every item has been a pleasing problem to solve. As you know, I try to create a welcoming, clean, safe, and relaxing space to escape the world and the new one has that and an absolutely gorgeous view. I feel safe here and that means you’ll get my best, every time. I am thankful to my loyal and beloved friends who make it possible to reserve such a fantastic place for us.

My darling friends have been coming over to play more often, Sofina joined me the other day for a playful little lunch hour and oh darling did we enjoy ourselves, haha! Both a little shy and nervous, but good, giving, and game. I am so thankful that I get opportunities so often to share my space and my self with my loving, charming friends.

Rose has proven worth her weight in gold and I’d like to thank the darlings who have shown their appreciation in gifts, tips, and quick, concise scheduling requests. She has become a huge part of my success and I am terribly thankful for her diligent and thorough service.

I’m absolutely loving the mild winter. I’m not a fan of being cold and these last few months have only had little blips of freezing rains and biting winds. Even then, thanks to a few generous beloveds I am well insulated in my weatherproof shoes and warm, durable outerwear. I am thankful for the caring, generous attitude from my darling friends that prompts them to pamper and take care of me.

I’ve had the chance to try a few fun new things this last year and, while I’m still not sure where unusual new activities fit, if at all, I’m thankful for a clientele and an industry where I encounter some amusing behaviors and desires.

I’m thankful for the strong, beautiful community I’m in that shares warmth and courage and advice. I feel far beyond my years and I attribute it directly to the influence of the wisdom of my social groups.

And of course, I’m thankful for you, my reader, probably my client but maybe not, who has told me how much they appreciate me either in web traffic, comments, or appointments. Thank you, and I hope you had a happy Thanksgiving.

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Sorry, Again

I know I don’t have to apologize for taking care of myself but I will because it effects you. You, my reader, my darling beloved reader, usually a client, haha, watches this page for updates. Reading these snippets, sexy, sensuous, soliloquy, or simply appraising, brings us a little closer in between our physical meetings. I’m terrible with text, great at slicing phrases together to create the occasional missive but really awful at the day to day. I hired Rose to take care of the important stuff: making sure I actually get to meet you; because I couldn’t do that and this, much less this and a million other things.

My mind wanders, constantly. If I told you, every moment I wanted to, every thing I wanted to, you’d suffer. No discretion, no time off, no mystery, no safety from crazy silly words at crazy silly hours. I want to live new lives every day. I want to work an office job, be a masseuse, write poetry, travel the world, sit quietly, create, speak, teach, learn, live softly, grow loud!

But I can’t do all of it. No one can. You make it so I can do much, so much more than I would have without you. But everyone has limits and apparently one of mine is maintaining my blog. I’ve missed four weeks. I think. Maybe more. I got last week. I wrote it the same time I’m writing this. A surge of Twitterpated creativity hit me and I’m milking it for all it’s worth. I’m waiting for the chicken to come to temp.

So I’m sorry for breaking the flow. For taking the break I badly needed but not warning you first. For leaving you hanging, without even a naughty picture or anything. Thank you. Again. As usual. Even when I go wild, you think of me. You feel for me and you desire me and I thank you for it.

I’ve been having a great freaking time. Volunteering for causes I love (because as a SW I can afford it). Strengthening personal relationships critical to my long term life and health. Recharging my batteries. Moving to a new, better apartment (same building, no worries). Reading. Meditating. Reading. Socializing with my colleagues. Creating space for them to love and grow. Traveling. Getting ready to travel. I just… People dream of living the life I live. Someday it will be time for me to leave sex work but that time is a ways from now. Right now, I’m still in love. Don’t worry.

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How, Though?

I was out running errands the other day and, as one does in Seattle, passed a crazy person. Now, whether she was normal and I just judged her, she had a mental health issue, or was on something, doesn’t matter to the story; my feelings about health options is a whole other post.

What mattered was our brief but lasting interaction.

We were walking the same direction on the sidewalk, me in red modest heels, faded black skinny jeans, and a black peacoat. Not unusual in Seattle but I was feeling fierce in the sensible but striking shoes. I was searching for an unfamiliar branch of my credit union and had to double back so I passed her twice; One walking the same direction, faster once facing her. She seemed to be on the phone the first time around so I gave her the polite freeze and moved on. However, as we passed face-to-face she struck me.

Not physically, I mean, c’mon, it’s Seattle. But with her face. She looked me in the eye, half luaghed to herself, said “You’re a whore”, and kept walking.

Now I’ve been catcalled, and crazy-person-ed before. I used to work downtown at night. I get screaming and crying and panhandling and whatever and I know that the kind of woman who tells strangers their profession while passing on the street is probably not in the best control of their senses but my first reaction was “wait! How did you know!?!”

Because while I’ve been yelled, whispered, creeped, solicited, claimed, ired, and begged at, I have never in my life had anyone, stranger or otherwise, so calmly and surely called me out.

Of course she was either crazy or somehow supernaturally adept at sussing professions so I’m not actually worried or upset, I just couldn’t get it out of my head.

The way she said “You’re a whore” was the same expression and emphasis I show when I say “you’re an asshole” after some new acquaintance demonstrates their despicable nature. It’s a combination of resignation and realization and she fucking nailed it.

It made me giggle a bit, smiling to myself at my shared secret, but part of me wanted to chase her down and ask her. How did you know? Do you have a whordar? Do you cruise the boards and you recognized my shoes? Are you a crazy bitch and said it to hurt me? Or is there some kind of confident, sexually educated stride I take that signals to some that I’m a proud effing whore? I couldn’t help but laugh to myself, despite the mild discomfort.

No matter what I do or where I go, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to leave my scarlet letter behind, haha! I’m sorry boys, I’ll be a sexual champion until the end!

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Book Review(s): The Wayfarer Series by Becky Chambers

Book(s) Review: The Long Way to a Small Angry Planet and A Closed and Common Orbit

I got the first book as a hostess gift from some friends who stayed at my place over PAX DEV week. I’m always curious about fun new scifi and these are pretty recent. I was expecting dramatic flairs, super space battles, some self awareness and a dollop of insight. I wasn’t expecting to cry, to be touched, and to be envious.

Stories are often one single arc of setup, conflict, and resolution. This was a series of small, interpersonal conflicts and resolutions, resolutions so sweet and caring and sensitive that I fell in love with the lizard woman. I know, right?

It’s hard to describe the plot; the story doesn’t move the way you might expect. There are no huge plot twists, no massive battles, no critical intrigues, just good folks doing well by each other. I kept trying to predict plot movement but the simple humanity in it surprised me time after time. The reviews called it feel good scifi where bad things happen but the universe is, in general, a good place.

I deeply believe that we are all capable of compassion and understanding. After reading the Bonobo and the Atheist my feelings of goodwill toward individual humans have soared. Reading about alien species interacting with with each other compassionately and lovingly reminded me of the best in my own relationships. Walking through the thought processes as people confront their own biases and make informed, loving decisions in relationships made me feel so strongly glad I actually teared up a few times.

I’m on the outside of poly, swinger, and kink communities but I know people actively involved and the way they talk about consent, communication, and intimacy resonated with me, even without first hand experience. I recently had a brief conversation with a friend about expectations and how it’s reasonable to have them, but unreasonable to react with anger or dismissal when they are broken. These characters operated within limits, just like we do, and when they experienced events that didn’t fall within their past experience, they allowed for exceptions without judgement or anger.

I hope and wish for that with all our experiences. I hope and wish that when someone behaves in a way we don’t expect, people displaying behaviors that don’t fit with our ideas or experience, instead of getting angry at our own discomfort, we let it pass and address the current situation.

Some people like books with epic arcs or dark endings but if you want something that will make you smile and just might make you cry, pick up ‘The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet’ and thank me later.

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Rev: Ivy Quill

LOCATION: My place on First Hill
DATE: Yesterday
NAME: Ivy Quill, Née Emily L’Amour
INCALL/OUTCALL: In
AGENCY OR INDY: Indy
ACCURATE PICTURE: Absolutely, and recent
AGE: 13 months younger than me
PERSONALITY: Big, expansive, enthusiastic, authentic
RACE: Garden variety white girl, just like me
BODY TYPE: Petite, slender, short
WEIGHT: Not even gonna guess. Her proportions are the same as mine
HEIGHT: An inch or two shorterr than me. Perfect for some serious heels
BUST: 32D, firm, pierced, sensitive to flicks and nibbles
WAIST: Trim and feminine
HIPS: slightly flared from her slender waist, the perfect stripper booty and she knows how to work it
HAIR: Dark, long on top but shaved close on the sides, very alt/suicide girl
EYES: Bright eyes with hyuuuge lashes
FEET: Clean and petite, painted
SKIN TONE: Perhaps a shade darker than me in the winter, few shades lighter than tan me
TRIMMING: We’re basically bush twins. Carpet in the den, hardwood in the dining room
TATTOOS: several, tasteful, each with a story
SCARS: A few pretty ones on a hip and a forearm.
PIERCINGS: Ears, Nose, Lip, Nipples, and I think that’s it, haha
MOLES/BIRTHMARKS: Nothing I noticed
CLOTHES: A cute black tank, a loose gray skirt, a long cardigan, and the cutes little red panties
GLASSES: Nope
MOANER OR A SCREAMER: LOTS of dirty talk. Quiet pouty moans when she’s getting close.
ENERGY LEVEL DURING THE SESSION: medium for me. We kept each other busy while our boy recuperated and she didn’t flag even after receiving some attentive ministrations from me.
MULTI SHOTS DURING THE HOUR: I have a hunch that she, like me, is willing, depending on where you are.
ACCEPTS FRENCH: Heh hehe heh. Yum.
SMOKES: Yes
DRINKS: Sure
KISSES: Freaking hot. Tongue, lips, breath, all the good stuff
FRENCH: See above 😉
GREEK: Some restrictions apply
RUSSIAN: Probably. It wouldn’t be high on my list given all her other fantastic talents
DO’s or DON’T’s: DO be nice, DO communicate well, DON’T be a jerk
WEB-SITE: http://www.darlingdeviant.com
SCREENING PROCESS: References, not sure of other options
PHONE: She will provide at her discretion
RATES: 400/600/800 for 60/90/120 minutes
RECOMMEND: If you’ve ever been curious about a smaller, louder, alt-version of me, she is it
COMMENTS: I’ve known Ivy for a while off and on and we’ve always been curious to get together and bang each other but our social circles are such that we don’t bump into each other often. Twitter, the marvelous platform for flirting, finally cemented the deal. We only had an hour to work with and if you’re reading this you know how I feel about short appointments but we freaking filled it with fooling around.
It started with her treating us to a little strip tease. She, like me, started as a stripper and she’s still got the moves, even without the heels. As she twirled and twerked around my studio, I struggled with conflicting desires to get up and dance with her and get down with our lovely boy. We took turns showing off our skills with hands, mouths, and words. At least, I was showing off for her, haha!
After a bit, our dear friend needed a break to cool off so I took the chance to wash up a bit, don some gloves (no one likes fingernails where I was planning to go), and lay her back to lavish some attention on her. I always love learning a new body, even under such truncated circumstances. I wish I had had more time but the five or ten minutes we had to work with were enough to watch and feel her clench around my ersatz cock and hear her gasping. I’m never sure when working with a new friend what their orgasms look like but if that wasn’t one, I’d be surprised and regardless, she said she enjoyed it and I choose to take that at face value.
We must have put on a good show because it didn’t take much longer for the three of us to collapse in a sweaty, panting heap.
That was the most surprising thing: me and our friend sat back recovering and Ivy, energy unabated, answered the question “tell me about your tattoos” with a bright and fast overview of each bit of ink. It’s spread out enough that even if you’re not a big fan of tattoos, they don’t detract from her trim little curves or her silky porcelain skin.
After our friend headed home, we chatted a bit before she took off for lunch. She and I share similar values, specifically around our respect for, enjoyment of, and ethical behavior within our industry. We’r both good, giving, and game and we’re both learning to take better care of ourselves and our clients. We’re both excited to meet new people and do new things and while she’s embraced her big voice and boisterous personality, I’ve been trying to slow down, meditate and become quieter. My aversion to pain and permanent marks means I’ve shied from piercings and tattoos and she’s taken the chance to express herself and her love on her skin. Aside from the superficial, we look very, very similar. We have the same body type, she’s just on a slightly smaller scale, we have similar hair color and style, mine is a bit more strawberry blonde and more mainstream, we both prefer the natural, less made up looks for similar reasons and we both have that soft, creamy skin. We even take the same approach to personal grooming, haha!
Ivy is a sweetheart, totally game, a tiny bombshell of a porn star, and a smart fucking chick. I like her, though she’s one of those people I can only keep up with for a few hours at a time, haha. She’s humble but not timid, loud but not brash, pretty without being fake, and overall a really good time.

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The Roaming Ho

I made it!

 

I’m sitting at home at my desk surrounded for the first time in eleven days by familiar sights and smells. I had a pile of packages awaiting my return, new pants and a new watch that I wish I had had for the trip. Also bills but such is life.

I’m so pleased by the sunshine here! I spent much more time than expected in the one pair of jeans I took with me. Considering the bulk of the trip was in Southern California, I spent very little time feeling warm. The cool weather followed me down and back up again until finally, on the night before heading home, I got pounded by an icy deluge on the way to dinner. Sigh.

Highlights! Florence, OR is beautiful and I could have spent several days there. I will put it on my list for the next, shorter, road trip as a destination and I will absolutely venture a few miles south to revisit only the best deli I’ve ever been to! In Reedsport, just on the other side of the Dunes coastal park, is a place called Back to the Best and they smoke their own everything. I had a half a Reuben with home cured pastrami and fennel seeds in the soft, squishy rye and ran off with a half pound of chewy, sweet and salty jerky. Meat candy at its best.

After Florence was Redding, boring and blah, but during the hop from Redding to Sacramento, a tourist attraction sign reading “Olive City! Olive Oil Tastings” caught my eye and subsequently my wallet. I don’t usually get distracted by silly street signs but when you’re on a road trip through central California and you can’t do wine and drive, oil is the thing to try. Lucero Tasting room in Corning, CA has a huge selection of oils they harvest and press on site within hours of picking. They let you taste and assess different types and my olive oil education more than doubled. It has subtle and delicious flavors just like chocolate or wine. I walked away with a vinegar, three oils, a jar of olives, and some fantastic mustard. If only I had the pastrami from two days before!

After a quick turnaround in Sacramento and a medium drive to Pasadena, I registered for classes and had a fairly relaxed visit. I learned about pediatric massage and sat through an… interesting ethics class. Sex work always comes up in massage ethics classes because it’s often done under the guise of massage and so some clients expect licensed practitioners to provide sexual services. You get some truly odd interactions sometimes and I had to bite my tongue often during the four hour conversation. I learned a few new self care techniques and met a few lovely local therapist, and some from as far as the East Coast. Very cool.

The best two locations in Pasadena are Union, a tiny hole-in-the-wall that serves excellent food and personable conversation. The wait staff was not only beautiful but highly competent. Comparable to a few of my favorite places around here and by far the best high-end food I had the whole trip. The best bar to my taste is Der Wolfskop. The downstairs was dim, quiet, cheap (for California), and played old movies with the captions so I could watch while I sipped my brown liquor. Oh, and for lunch one day I decided on a ramen joint with a long line out front. I figured the line was a good sign and oh my god it was. Rich, salty broth, fatty pork, and a soft boiled egg with some hot green tea hit the spot perfectly after sitting in a chilly classroom all morning. I can’t wait for Seattle to catch up with the ramen craze. The last time I tried ramen in Seattle it had fermented bamboo shoots in it. No good.

The plan was to stay an extra night after my classes were over but I got done at noon and had had just about all I cared of Pasadena. I called my AirBnB hosts at the next place and asked them if they had room for us a day early. She made some adjustments and slid us in two nights instead of one. Morro Bay is an adorable little seaside town ten minutes north of San Luis Obispo with happy people and a tiki bar that serves 32 ounce cocktails for 12 bucks. It also has easy access to walking trails, beaches, and more. Even more fun, however, is just up the road at the Libertine Pub. 72 beers on tap and incredibly chill waitstaff made for a pleasant evening, capped with barbecue from a little joint around the corner.

Wandering around in tide pools that I’m pretty sure we weren’t supposed to be in, I noticed a wet shiny blob that looked suspiciously like a stranded sea creature. Sure enough, a closer look revealed a fly-covered octopus about the size of my hand. My heart moved at the poor creature’s plight so I nudged it onto a seaweed sling and moved it to a little pool close by where I watched. At first, there wasn’t much movement. I figured I was probably too late, the exposure had done him in and all I did was delay the inevitable. After a few minutes, though, I saw some movement. His color changed and his siphons started fluttering. Then he inked at me!! I figured that was a good sign and sure enough, a few minutes later, he struggled to push himself deeper into the collected seaweed and away from my line of sight. It felt a bit odd to celebrate a cephalopod’s survival like that but I felt it was good preparation for my future wildlife rescue efforts.

Later that day we toured Hearst Castle, the magnificent and unfinished home of media magnate William Randolph Hearst. I would have been happy with one of his four bedroom, two bathroom guest cottages or one half of one wing but when you have that kind of well funded imagination I suppose theres nothing to stop you from creating a magnificent castle in the California desert. Some people simply don’t know when to stop but then again, if he had, it wouldn’t be there for us to ogle some half a century later.

The next day ended at Monterey, standing a few miles north of the bridge made famous in Big Little Lies, watching a pod of whales and a flock of seabirds demolish a shoal while seals and sea otters frolicked in the foreground and the bright orange sun sank slowly behind. There are some moments that are simply magical and that was one. Cold, windy, scrubby cliffside gave way to a glittering marine tableau… Its exactly the kind of drama I like in my life, haha.

After Monterey I only had a couple more days, one in Arcata, tucked in among the Redwoods, and another halfway back, in Springfield, OR where I had the third best food on the entire trip. I may have been biased because it was my first salad in a while but it was at this little joint called Plank Town Brewing Co. Good beer, good food, and really good cocktails.

I could have planned better, but I really enjoyed the more relaxing pace of a flexible schedule. I’m definitely going to have to revisit the Redwoods. By the eighth hour of the longest driving day, I was not sorely tempted to get out and hike for another few hours so I feel as though I didn’t give that leg the time it deserved. Ah well. There’s always next year.

This is just a summary. It’s difficult to convey in text the exhaustion, boredom, awe, curiosity, and pleasure I felt by turns along the 3000 miles getting to know my Prius better. Once I get settled in and start reconnecting with my beloved clients and my darling colleagues, once I sit back and work on some tasks, and once I get back to normal eating habit again, I’ll have more time to reflect.

Thank you. One of the greatest things about doing what I do is the ability to take off for a couple of weeks, knowing that when I get back, my beloved clients will be eager to get together, my bills will be paid, and having the freedom to change my plans at the last minute and afford it without stress. I love that I wasn’t trapped in my schedule by a tight budget and I want to thank you for making that possible. I live a magical, beautiful life.

 

Now for a salad and a long walk.

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An Open Letter To His Wife

To My Client’s Wife,

I’m sorry. I’m sorry that the world set you up to think you could get everything you needed from one man. I’m sorry that you’ve been shamed for your sexuality and his interest in sex doesn’t fit your needs anymore. I’m sorry that somewhere, something broke down and you don’t know how to fix it. I’m sorry that he pestered you until you fought over it and that his hurt and confusion blinded him to yours. I’m sorry that I’ll never be able to hug you and tell you that it’s ok, that I’ll take care of that so you two can focus on the rest of your complex, full, committed life together. I’m sorry that you haven’t found an outlet like this so you, too, can take a break, relax, and return to your marriage more focused and refreshed.

I haven’t seen your husband at his worst. I haven’t laundered countless socks, sobbed quietly at the hurtful and angry things he said, celebrated his success at the cost of my own, sacrificed my youth to bring him pleasure, cooked for him, cleaned for him, or God forbid been on a long trip with him. I have no idea what series of events led you two to where you are now, I only see his sexual frustration now in front of me and it’s my job to take care of it and send him happily back home to you.

Because he loves you. You’ve raised his children and captured his heart. He needs you. He has watched you work miracles with his home and his family and himself. He has built a beautiful, strong, loving life with you. He has fought within himself between his desires and your needs and this is his solution. Leaving is not an option. You fill his life and fit him in so many ways; his choice is not between staying or leaving, it’s between resenting the lack of connection or recharging his physical and emotional batteries in order to be more completely with you.

I know, that sounds crazy! If he loves you, why would he be seeing someone like me? It’s precisely because he loves you that he’s seeing me once a month instead of shattering your life with constant anger or a foolish affair.

And believe me, if he thought he could tell you, he would. If I could tell you I would. If you could know that there’s no pressure, that cuddling doesn’t have to lead to sex, that if you aren’t in the mood you don’t have to feel guilty, that sex is an invitation, not an expectation, what kind of freedom might you feel? To have that source of constant fighting evaporate, or at least ebb long enough to come together… what might that do?

I don’t want to steal your husband, I want to heal him. I’m sexual first aid, applied as often as necessary to allow deeper healing between you two, if you’re willing. I’m a prop, a listening ear, a safe space for him to feel sexy and sensual and comforted and heard so he can meet you where you are without tension or resentment.

Thank you for your patience and understanding.

With hope,

Your Husband’s Favorite Escort

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You’re my first

I remember my first. We were young and good Christian kids so we trusted ourselves (or more accurately our shame) to keep us from going farther than just the tip. It was dark, under covers, and I’d been fighting myself for over an hour as our naked bodies did everything but. His stupid teenage cock was rubbing all over my lips and when he asked me if he should go all the way I didn’t hesitate. I couldn’t. I nodded and the next thirty seconds were pure heaven.

Even earlier than that I had learned the frustrated pleasure of a hand or cock rubbing my inseam and younger still I tried to fulfill my pussy’s yearning with my friends’ hands and labia and pillows. I was only 12 when I learned to masturbate so I’m amazed that it took four entire years after that to finally feel real penetration.

I remember my first older man.. I remember my first orgasm with a partner, I remember my first client, my first duo… I remember my first everything.

So will you. If you come to me for your first time, or even to be one of your first few, you will remember me your entire life.

What an honor. Thank you.

Because if I’m among your first, it means you chose me, you decided I was worth living in your memory for as long as your memory lasts. When our firsts just happen, we don’t always choose when and with whom. You did and I am humbled.

About me: I have a lot of experience, as you may have guessed, but you are different and interesting and unique in ways even you don’t know. I’ll want to get to know you and I’ll want to know that it’s all new for you. I’m excited to help you get comfortable and learn.

About you: You care, you’re curious, and you’re willing to take your time learning this whole girls and sex thing. Welcome.