Harlot at Heart

turnmy-sw4g-0n: everyone do this

Thu, 02 May 2013 16:40:23 -0400

everyone do this

March 22, 2013

Fri, 22 Mar 2013 20:55:25 -0400

I’m neurotic. I’m so neurotic its sometimes ridiculous. I want to think I’m beautifully neurotic, but I don’t think that’s true. I’m simply neurotic, and one of these days the neurosis will turn me into a flat out crazy girl.

Sometimes I can see myself throwing things, breaking glass, and destroying everything beautiful around me. Eventually I know I’ll collapse and be that crazy girl rocking in the corner trying to escape the voices.

This all sounds very sad and depressing, but its really not. I mean, it is, but I know its part of my future and past, and I’m ok with it. Crazy people are among the most successful and creative.

December 7, 2011

Wed, 07 Dec 2011 18:32:12 -0500

I’ve been thinking a lot lately, and sadly have not come to many conclusions. But, its the journey is the best part right?

Laying on my living room floor the other night (I took a nap there because it was warmer than my room), I had the bizarre thought that I was content. Not completely happy, mind you, but content.

I’m enjoying this slower paced lifestyle filled with sex in swanky hotels and apartments. Its not a forever content, but the content where you know you’re doing the best you can in the given situation, and don’t regret it.

The past month I’ve been trying to get the Kid to understand that we are not poor anymore, that we can put food (sufficient and quality food) on the table consistently, and that we won’t have to share small kid’s drinks (gasp!). We don’t have to scour the kitchen for hippy-dippy-tastes-like-paper crackers, and we can spend the extra dollar to eat brand name cereal.

While I don’t tell him exactly what I make, I tell him not to worry about the necessities, and that the necessities are going to be of quality. I don’t want him to scratch his way up; he deserves much more than that.

I think he’s finally understanding what I tell him, and he said to me the other day, “Please don’t let us be poor again.”

No, no kid, we will not be poor again. Never. I swear to you, you will never have to worry about that again.

(Its like the scene in Gone With the Wind when Scarlett swears she will never go hungry again, right before intermission. I knew I was Scarlet in a past life!)

The rest of my thoughts have been more personal, and (surprise surprise) related to my personal life. A recent conversation with a new friend, henceforth known as the Director, made me question why personal sex is unfullfilling.

I don’t exactly have the answer, but I’m not worried. I know I can have romantic feels for boys, and it is possible to keep my interest for more than a week, its just rare. Whenever I’ve have those feelings for boys, they have broken my heart until I’m a miserable mess. It doesn’t help that my first boyfriend was mentally (and simewyst physically) abusive.

Yes I’m a cliche. And yes, I have daddy issues, in case you were wondering.

But that’s not it, that’s not the reason I protect myself and my personal sexuality so much. Some part of me is a romantic and wants to believe in true love. Some part of me wants personal sex to be with someone I’m truly in love with, and not someone I could possibly fall in love with. Some big part of me wants to wait for the right person.

Confused yet? I sure as hell am.

Now, dear Director, do you understand a bit more? A year ago I would have fantasized about you asking me out, and doing naughty things with you in naughty places. We do have some sort of a connection.

But the past year has taught me that…
A) if its meant to be it will happen
B) it needs to happen slowly and naturally because I am damaged beyond repair
C) its no fun waiting for something that may or may not come to be
D) sex is so much better when the indescribable chemistry hits you over the head

Today, and for the time being, I’m going to let things happen as they may, and wait (patiently) for that indescribable chemistry to hit me over the head, whether is happens over time or within seconds.

November 11, 2011

Fri, 11 Nov 2011 21:27:00 -0500

11.11.11 today. Shouldn’t I make a wish? What could I wish for? What do I want?
Nothing.

Well that’s a lie. I want Sunshine to not be easily upset. I want to find someone to keep my interest. I want the Kid to be ok. I want my father to understand. I want my mother to be successful. I want to know what I’m repressing.

But those are all things I can’t do anything about. And if if those things hadn’t have happened, or people were how they were, I wouldn’t be how I am.

And I love myself.

Despite the fact that I’m a ridiculously pathetic stereotype, I’m happy. I enjoy why I do, don’t have insolvable issues, and have the Kid to keep me straight.

It did occur to me, last night however, that civilian sex is just not quite for me. I have to have a very good reason to fuck, and “because I’m bored” just is not a good enough reason.

Sunshine and I had an adventure last night. It ended with him mad at me, but until then it was quite fun.

We found a bi guy to fool around with, and yes, he was actually bi. I just wanted am orgasm via oral (which I never got), and the guy attempted sex sans condom.

No no.

Anyways, after my horniness plateaued and I knew I wasn’t going to orgasm, it occurred to me that he didn’t care. The guy had no care in the world for us, none at all. It was almost like he was just going through the motions. Just like a washed up hooker.

We didn’t make eye contact, no kissing, no connection. Totally not worth it. His interest was almost as bad as my least favorite client.

It was odd. Maybe I expected romance and conversation? Maybe it was because it was a cheap hotel? Maybe because there was no white envelope?

No matter what the reason, I ended up making faces at Sunshine and wishing I was with a client.
At least then it would not have been just wasted time.

After we left, I went to the Firefighter’s, in hopes of salvaging my mood. Alas, I felt just as used as before.

Before last night, I felt fine, not used like a commodity at all. I felt like a whore with these normal guys, whereas I feel like a princess with clients.

Odd.

September 28

Wed, 28 Sep 2011 17:01:51 -0400

Some little fucker from Ohio is texting that I will regret laughing with the sinners when I could end up praying with the saints. Oh what a hard choice to make…Apparently he is known to text many working girls. What fun!

Despite how it seems lately, I do quite enjoy escorting. And its not because of the money, its the whole package. Its the different way everyone goes about things, the stories they tell, the sex, and of course the money. But one without the others…wouldn’t be as fun.

Anyways, I’ve redone the way I work, and it is much more efficient and better for me in the long run. Its been nice.

I also took a week off in order to have sex, sex just for me. It was very good sex. A few bruises were left, a few new adventures to tell, and a cheap sugardaddy blown off in the process.

Divisadero was especially helpful that week. He is a perfectly acceptable guy, nothing wrong with him, but I only want to see him for sex. Great sexual chemistry (he hits so well), and as soon as it is over I’m happy as a clam.

Interesting how that works.

I do believe I have officially been blown off by the Fireman. We tentatively agreed to hang out a few days, and each day I never received a text from him. Yes, I did text him.

So he is out.

Which is fine, really. He was a great guy and I would have loved to pursue things with him, but I had a sneaking suspicion the other girl he was seeing was actually his girlfriend. And, he turned out to be a little tame for me.

Oh well.

Deep down I do love the Disney princess. And these drawings are...

Fri, 02 Sep 2011 15:14:46 -0400

Deep down I do love the Disney princess. And these drawings are quite lovely. Which princess am I?

Yes, I think I fit this quite well.

Fri, 02 Sep 2011 15:05:47 -0400

Yes, I think I fit this quite well.

August 29. Part 2

Mon, 29 Aug 2011 17:01:32 -0400

As far as work goes appointments have been particularly trying this week, and only half of them “real” appointments. I will admit it was rough, and my patience for the male species (even the ones I genuinely like) is fairly low.

The Fireman came over this morning, and yes, it was very rough, animalistic and hot…Many things fell off my bed, and my bed itself is in a different place. Afterwards, I fell asleep in his arms, but he had to leave far too soon. I didn’t feel satisfied.

Several work dates this week, not much sex, which was a rather pleasant surprise.

The first was quite enjoyable, Japanese food, not much leftovers but pleasant conversation. Turns out he works where a) where my ex’s old roommate works, and b) with a boy I went out with. They seem to be in the same departments…Best avoid work meetings with this one….

Second was a work date as well, and was considerably less enjoyable…He was very much into PDA (which I am vehemently against, at least when work is concerned), kept asking what turns me on, and tried to feel me up in the restaurant.

Sex is fun, and the world knows I am a sex addict, but I do not like talking about what turns me on, especially in public. Besides, it depends entirely on chemistry.

Third was with a client I’ve seen before. He and his cock are nice enough, but it was period week so no sex. I told him that, and that I wanted to be home early as well. He said it was fine, so went to dinner. It was a very nice Japanese restaurant, and pleasant conversation.

When we left it was already later than I wanted to be out, but he insisted on a blow job. Just kinda put his cock in front of my face.

Fine, whatever. I’ll blow you.

I cried through the blow job, and he didn’t notice a thing. Afterward he said it was great, what a connection we had. Uh huh.

He dropped me off at home and didn’t pay for my time or services.

Fucker.

The hardest part was going home, holding back the tears and anger so The Kid wouldn’t see.

He makes it worth it though, The Kid. He fell asleep in my bed that night, and was so adorable. I love him more than anything and will do anything to give him everything (and more) that I never had.

August 29

Mon, 29 Aug 2011 16:07:42 -0400

I feel like a doll. Different outfits, different personalities, different positions, different names. Its all a game, which is fun, until it isn’t. It isn’t when the other person (typically the client) gets too far into it, and thinks it’s more than there actually is.

It never is, but they insist their fantasy is reality, even when the night is over. When our time is over I do not want the goodbye to be drawn out, and I sure as hell do not want you to “stare into my eyes just a minute more.”

No. I want to go home and jump in bed. I want to resume my own life, where I am no one’s or fantasy.

I do not appreciate excessive texts or emails in between appointments. I do not want to spend my free time (like I have any) texting back and forth. The occasional hope-everything-is-well text conversation is great, but I do not want to talk all day.

And I sure as hell do not want to chat on the phone.

Reblog if you're gay, lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, transgender or a supporter.

Fri, 26 Aug 2011 15:39:44 -0400

Photo

Fri, 26 Aug 2011 15:37:51 -0400

August 20

Sat, 20 Aug 2011 15:59:56 -0400

The Fireman came over yesterday morning…he is so comfortable to hug. I greeted him at the door in yoga pants and a half buttoned jacket. Over couture lingerie. He said I looked nice.

I smiled and lead him inside.

He said on my bed while I finished getting ready. We chatted about the tests he was going to take Monday, and about his weekend trip to the mountains.

Wearing a lovely lacy bra and cheetah print panties I went to stand in front of him, and kissed him deeply. We made out for some time, him running his hands up and down my body, me running my hands through his hair and caressing his face.

His hands migrated south, and he slipped his thumbs into the top of my panties, lightly caressing my skin.

“You remember what you did to me the other day before work?” He whispered.

I nodded a naughty smile.

“Well you’re the one going to work today,” he continued as a finger brushed my clit.

His fingers continued their journey and discovered a small pool in my panties.

“How long will it take you?” I moaned.

Looking me up and down, “With you, not long.”

I smiled and pulled out a condom.

He got on top and slid inside of me. Moaning I pulled him deeper, wrapping my legs around him. He went deep and hard, very hard. Within minutes I felt him spasm and collapse on top of me. I smiled and massaged his shoulders.

Good way to start the day.

More Thoughts

Fri, 19 Aug 2011 20:19:23 -0400

I’m bored. So very bored. Everything has become so mundane, even single motherhood. (Yes, I am a single mother….No it is not my kid. I am truly an independent condom girl at heart)

I get in trouble when bored. When I was bored in high school I started drinking and experimenting with drugs, and cutting. Sex was always in the equation, but so messed up at that point that it was in in a locked box tucked in the corner. So drugs and alcohol and self mutilation was left.

And of course normal rebellion.

After I moved to the West Coast, and found myself in a relationship I was bored again. So I started fucking. A few regrets (well, one), and a lot of secret affairs. Dated a couple, went to a sex club, was paid for the first time, and other sexcapades.

Then the relationship ended, and thus began my adventures into escorting. It was quite fun, still is. I always had an affinity towards whores, like Veronica Franco and Belle DuJour, as well as to mistresses. I found the whole life very appealing and fascinating.

So I began my life as a escort. It started simply enough, a friend of a friend here and there, a sugar daddy here, and eventually it was a real business. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy it greatly, but I’m bored.

Some of the clients drained my energy, and the secret itself drained more of my energy.

It always ebbed and flowed within me, and at one point I was working quite a lot, and it happened to be at the same time as my family debacle, and when the Boy ignored me.

I also had a few less than ideal experiences with clients. Nothing bad, mind you, just not idea.

So who knows if it is boredom, stress, the “ebb”, or depression. But it’s there.

Maybe I need to make more rules, and make it more business oriented, so people do not take up more than its worth. Maybe stop altogether (although I really do enjoy it).

Personally I think a true vacation is needed. Not a work or family vacation, but a real one.

Its hard now that school has started for The Kid. I can’t just leave him for my own mental stability….Can I?

Na…Then I’d be no better than my parents.

August 19

Fri, 19 Aug 2011 19:57:54 -0400

A few nights ago I had a dream where The Boy refused to go down on me, and that got my panties in such a bunch that I yelled and ran down the street. And then I woke with a text from him.

Fucker’s (obviously) on my mind.

When I told him about the dream a few hours later he said he would make it up to me. And he did…mmmmm such lovely oral talent…

But he never made me cum.

But he came. All over me. Least he didn’t get it in my hair.

Afterwards, we went for lunch and he dropped me off at work (retail). Later, I decided I didn’t want to see him again. The allure was gone.

Maybe I just like the chase?

I would not doubt that for a second.

August 17

Wed, 17 Aug 2011 18:43:52 -0400

Hi, my name is **** and I’m a sex addict.

August 11

Fri, 12 Aug 2011 01:36:34 -0400

So much fucking and so many flashbacks. The Boy needs to be out, but continues to be part of my life. There’s nothing I can do about that, short of changing my number or filing a restraining order. Neither of which I particularly want to do.

But, I did see someone else a few days ago….The Firefighter.

Yes, another fantasy many women (and gay men), have.

We’ve been out a few times, but did not do anything beyond that until a few days ago…And, I’m still sore :)

We got coffee and sat out in a park watching a rather tacky model and her entourage take even tackier photos. We typecast and guessed the color of her panties. And I complained about the color of the dress she was wearing.

The Firefighter lives in a nicer area of the City, and we went back to his place to hang out and eat. And we did genuinely hang out. It was very nice, and the closet thing I’ve had to a “real” date in a very long time.

Half the time I was thinking, “Should we fuck…Or should we not? Its not expected, but I want to…But should I? Should I not just to change it up? But I want to…”

Of course, we ended up fucking.

But the lead up was not forced. It was quite natural, and began with tickling, and then finding our heads near each other…And kiss.

The tickling is always a set up, as are drinks…But it was natural…Easy…

And such continued. Although, I did not give as much head as usual. A lot of attention was given to me and my pleasure…

Shortly after we started fooling around I was begging him to fuck me. I wanted him inside me so bad…

The Firefighter is rough, but not in the dom/sub sort of way, just rough in the way he touches, hard and fast. After we had fucked for long enough we spooned (yes, we spooned, and it was my idea).

Laying there he started fingering me and playing with my clit, and slid a finger into my ass. Normally this would never have happened (I’ve been notoriously anti-anal as of late), but I wanted a little back door stimulation.

Mmmm fuck. I screamed. He fingered me hard and fast and I was curled next to him clawing and screaming, “Don’t fucking stop.”

At one unfortunate point he merely heard the “stop” and stopped, but that only allowed him to bring me back up to orgasm.

And thinking back on it, its a good thing he stopped. Think of how many people do not stop when they hear that? Crazy.

Showers and a ride home ensued, and I realized as I got out of the car he hadn’t cum yet.

“Next time,” he smiled.

Oh yes, next time.

Sun, 07 Aug 2011 14:22:00 -0400

August 4

Thu, 04 Aug 2011 21:21:49 -0400

I gave The Boy an ultimatum the other day: We need to talk this weekend or I’m done. Much to my surprise he actually got back to me, and we are setting up a time to talk. And by talk I do mean in person, not via text or over the phone.

For the past few weeks he’s been very sporadic, and I’ve just wanted someone to tell me it will all be ok. And he didn’t. There were several “I miss you’s” and “I wish you were here’s,” but that’s not what I needed. And he knew that.

I don’t know if I’m extremely hard on people, or if I just like him a lot and actually want him to be a part of my life, but it most definitely fucked with my head. Maybe he had a lot going on for him?

If he did he never said anything.

Either way, its time to shit or get off the pot. (Ever since I saw the movie The Bachelor with Chris O’Donell I’ve loved that saying)

Anyways, hopefully something is resolved with him. And I would honestly love to be with him, although he is a Stupid Boy.

I really did not think he would get back to me. I thought it was a lost cause, and was merely writing him off. I’m still wary of seeing him again…He does something to me…I melt….

Fuck. Fuckin boys!

Part of me thinks my job affects him more than he lets on. He’s brought it up a few times, but then always asks about it, and wants to listen. He loves when I fuck others, as long as he is the only one that doesn’t pay (besides Awful Date, which I haven’t fucked since, but I have seen).

Fair enough. As long as he sees me more than others, and I’m the only one that stays over.

We all have our necessities.

Photo

Wed, 03 Aug 2011 18:05:41 -0400

August 3

Wed, 03 Aug 2011 17:55:43 -0400

I burned out my creativity. There is virtually none left, and what is left just wants to sleep. Or cry. Or fuck. But really just sleep.

I’ve been told this is part of being an artist, that creativity ebbs and flows, and I’m also told I feel this way due to stress. Both valid points. Both very accurate. But not the entire story.

From the beginning of time I’ve burned myself out of just about every hobby I’ve had. Designing, writing, photography, hair coloring, pornography (both reading and watching), shopping, writing, reading, painting. You name it, and I’ve burned it out of myself.

Some come back, like writing (although it took a good 5 years), but some simply fade away (painting). I’m afraid all my creativity will burn away and will never return. It would be awful if that happened.

School is not fun anymore. All the projects are becoming a burden. Ideas even for the simplest things are not coming, and subjects I know like the back of my hand are lost on me.

I thought about time off, but I’m afraid I’ll never go back. Maybe later I’ll take time off for an Indian spirit quest? Well, a Parisian spirit quest would be more like it. Or go to the Deep South and get in touch with Scarlett O’Hara.

I do love Scarlett. She is my idol, and I’ve been told I act like her. That’s probably not the best thing, at least as far as my love life is concerned, but she doesn’t let anything past her. And if I have to be alone to provide for my family (well, my brother), then so be it.

On another note, Sunshine is engaged. Yes, my soulmate is engaged to another woman. I’m happy for him, but heartbroken all the same. He deserves the best. He deserves what he’s always wanted.

Although, I still want him to spend the night with me.