DTMFA?

Here’s my shameful truth: my boyfriend (so called fiance) has gone down on me approximately six times in our year long relationship. I can only count five times from memory (the night we met, our Halloween vacation, valentines, my birthday, and once since then, of course after I complained), but I will assume another instance happened as well, for his sake.

I only cum from oral sex, as far as contributions from a partner are concerned. I can get off with a vibrator by myself just fine. But that’s what being single is for (and “being single” to me means, “the three weeks at most between this dick and that”).

The last guy I had sex with before I met my fiancé was Charlie. I had known him and wanted him for a while (he’s a redhead, a great one at that, and that is my THING, for some reason). Finally, over a year after we met, we talked about our mutual attraction. That night, I thought, I was out of commission on account of my period. He told me “I was married for seven years. I’ve seen it all and I don’t care. I just want you squirming on my face, no matter what, where, when, or why.” He cheerfully agreed to follow me home and eat me out, despite me being on my period. This carried on with similar enthusiasm for a while. There were many times when I just wanted to suck him off, because yes, that gets me off, but I knew, if I needed it, it would be there.

There are no such certainties with my fiancé. I don’t know why he doesn’t do it, and he won’t explain why. I figure it’s the usual reason immature men have: women smell/taste gross down there. So, I shower, I shave, and if he attempts to go down after I went for a run and haven’t showered, I turn him down. I’ve explained to him that I don’t do this because I don’t want it, but because I know how much he obviously hates it, and I don’t want to make the experience any more difficult than it already is.

In our time together, I have never mentioned that he has an abnormally hairy penis. That’s right. He has hair growing halfway up his dick. It’s not a lot, but when I go down on him, sometimes I think I have a hair stuck in my mouth, but really, it’s a still-attached dick hair. It’s really only maybe like eight hairs total, but they are full sized, and still very uncommon for my dick sucking experience (which exceeds the 100 point for sure). What’s weird is he will shave his balls, but he completely ignores his dick hair.

But I shave everything constantly to keep him not-uninterested. I don’t know how to get him excited about it, so I just try to make myself as presentable as possible.

But charlie wouldn’t give a flying shit. Not one. If I went three weeks between shaves, he didn’t give a shit, my pussy was a wonderful source of enjoyment for me, therefore for him, then both of us together. I can’t even think of a fucking JOHN who didn’t eat my pussy first. They paid to eat it of all things!

My no-contact client told me the other night how much he loved eating pussy. He could do it for hours, he said. I’m almost tempted to call him and just ask him to eat me out. No money, just eat my pussy for an hour.

What the fuck am I supposed to do? I’ve never had a mate so reluctant to give me pleasure. I figure I’ll stay with him, because he’s great in every other way, but I’ll just get my pussy eaten on the side. So long as there’s no reciprocation on my end (giving oral or sex), can he really complain? Really?

I mean fucking really?
It’s not like he’s established a monopoly on it. He’s not outdoing the competitors. If I, as a business owner, hired a company that did legal and financial services, but found that while their legal services were fantastic, their financial services sucked, could they really get mad if I used them only for their legal skills, but turned to someone different for financial advice? There’s no contract yet. Even if there were, failure to provide on any one aspect would warrant the agreement null.

I don’t want to cheat, and I don’t want to break up, but I am comfortable cheating. More so than breaking up with him. I told him, before, that a recent study said men performed cunnilingus to keep women from leaving them. In fact, the study said men performed cunnilingus to keep women from cheating on them. but I didn’t want to scare him.

But that’s the truth we’re facing. Any advice is welcome.

Update: Oh, and to let you know, I suck his dick probably 97% of the time that we have sex. He does not eat my pussy to make it wet, nor does he like it when I spit on my fingers and then rub them on myself to make up for the lack of actual sexual lubricant. He complained about that, so I stopped. So, unless I suck him first, it’s dry cock going into dry pussy and it is painful and unnecessary. Just eat it god damnit.

Yes, yes, and double yes

Could it be that this is what I was meant to do?

I was feeling a little bit excited; it’s been my first time in maybe three years that I’ve ever charged for my presence.  As I mentioned earlier this evening, this was for a show: me, naked, playing with myself, with no contact, he decides if he wants to touch himself or not. Easy peasy.  As I was taking a shower, shaving the appropriate bits, I started to hoot and holler with delight.  I. was. fucking. doing it.

I decided to stop at my bar to have a drink before the event.  As I waited for his confirmation, I ran into a couple of girls I know.  If you’ve read my previous posts, you may have noticed one where I talked about a girl I was sure was an escort.  Well, I was wrong.  She does phone sex.  And her friend does as well, who I had also met a while back.  The friend, we’ll call her Skyler, said something, in a joking way, about being in phone sex and asking if I wanted to join.  I told her no, because people were listening, but I was hoping maybe it was a cover for an agency.  At the end of the evening I gave her my number and told her I hoped she was lying, and if she was, to call me.  I hadn’t heard from her, but I’ve seen her between then (maybe a week ago) and now.

The girl I thought I had pegged, let’s call her Emma, was at the bar tonight when I showed up, waiting for Skyler.  I didn’t know her very well, but since we both had Skyler in common, I decided to sit next to her at the bar (the bartender also suggested it for some reason).  I asked her if it was true what Skyler had said, and Emma filled me in on the details.  I revealed that I had escorted in the past, and we grew a bond right there.  Immediately, I was in.  Eventually, late-ass Skyler showed up.

I got confirmation from my client.  I paid my tab and wrote my client’s name and address on a piece of paper and folded it the maximum six times for that size of paper, and handed it to Skyler.  I told her, “If I don’t call you by 9:30 I want you to read this paper.”  She looked at me for a second, then her eyes got wide and she knew.  Skyler and Emma both immediately agreed to keep track of me, Emma set a timer on her phone, and Skyler and I put one another’s numbers on our phones.  They hugged me and wished me good luck.

I found this motherfucker’s place, eventually.  But, it wasn’t his place.  It was his parents’ place.  His place was around the corner, but his neighbors are nosy, and a friend of his just pulled up.  There was a chance they might disturb us.  He didn’t want to stay at his parents’ place because the AC had not been on (they were out of town).  I preferred to stay at the place with the address I had already given to Skyler, and we drove up his private driveway.  As I followed his truck, I took a picture of the license plate and sent it to Skyler.  She sent me back an encouraging message.

He was so shy.  He was good looking, too.  The kind of guy I would normally go for, and I would have loved to have offered him full service.  He grabbed me a beer and we settled in.  He explained that he had never done this kind of thing before.  I assured him I was nice, that I wouldn’t bite, and I’d be gentle.  I let a minute of opening beers go by, and asked if his real name was Cody, because a photo on the wall that looked like him was dedicated to a Cody.  He said it was his brother.  How the hell did I know about Cody?  I told him I saw it on the picture and he calmed down.  I could tell he was new to this and apprehensive.  It was then that I got professional.  I explained that it was customary for him, at this point early on, to place his end of the bargain somewhere in view, then hopefully turn around (at least that’s how I like to do it).  He did so.

I agreed that the lack of AC was a pain, and took my clothes off.  We got started slowly.  I performed on the ottoman while he sat in his chair.  I asked him what he liked, but he was reticent.  I asked him if he was more of a boob or ass man, and he said he wasn’t sure.  After a while I turned around and showed him my ass, and then he finally admitted that was his favorite view.  I told him he could play with himself, but he acted like he didn’t want to.  Eventually, when I pulled out my dildo, he began to jerk it.  I caught a little bit out of the corner of my eye, but I don’t think he wanted me to watch him.  I asked him if he wanted me to cum or to wait.  He told me to cum.  So I did.  When I was finished, I sat up, and his dick was under his shirt (his pants never came off, but they were unzipped).  He asked me if it was real.  I told him I never fake it (I don’t).   I asked him if he came.  He said yes.  I said, “I don’t see any wet spots.” And he still insisted otherwise.  I didn’t know what to think.

We wrapped up, got dressed, and we walked to our cars.  I told him my name was Jamie, which isn’t true, and he questioned it.  I looked at him like, “duh!” and he asked for a real email.  I gave it to him, but he didn’t believe me.  I drove home and called Skyler on the way.  She was happy for me and she told me any time I needed help like that again, just to let her know.  I told her I may have an appointment Sunday.  She was so supportive.

As a professional in this field, I don’t think my resume is that great.  But I do think I’m a natural.  It just comes so easy to me to be free with my body, enjoy it, and enjoy the sexual side of others.  I wanted him to ask me to do something that scared him.  He didn’t, but maybe next time.  I want people to push their own boundaries with me.  That’s what I’m here for, that’s what I’m good at: this is what I contribute to the world.  This is the only way I know how to reach people, to help them, to care.  My body is here for you to use in the way that makes you most sexually fulfilled.  Whether you want to fuck me with a bottle, or have me fuck you in the ass with a strap on and then pee on you, I can do it.  I can bear that brunt.  I don’t feel what the other girls feel, and I can set you loose.  When it comes to sex, I don’t judge.  I really don’t.  If you want me to dress in children’s clothing and pretend to be your five year old daughter, I will do it without blinking.  Acting out a fantasy with me is your time to be you.  I know how it feels to pretend to be something you are not.  That is something with which I can empathize.

I feel no remorse about my fiance, though.  Maybe I am a sociopath for real after all.

Who am I kidding?

I probably ran out of money on purpose so that I would be forced to put my little pussy out.  I’m easing back into it of course.

The other day I had a long think about whether or not I was prepared to do this again.  The situation is not like before, I’m not single.  But I am broke.  If he found out, it would hurt him.  I don’t know if it’s any consolation that what I’m currently offering is a no-contact experience (but yes, I still get naked).  It’s not really cheating that way.  Sure, someone else gets to enjoy looking at me doing dirty things, but he doesn’t touch me, I don’t touch him, we both benefit, we walk away and it’s done.  It’s not like picking up a guy at the bar and fucking him because I’m bored or horny.  No, I have a purpose.  Fucking money.  Money is unfortunately necessary and I don’t have time to wait 2-4 weeks for a paycheck from a straight gig.  I just don’t.  I’m making better money this way anyway.  It might be dangerous, but it’s still practical.  And as much as I’ve been around evil people, I will still say that most people, including most men who pay to play, are normal and have no desire to hurt you.  There really is such a thing as the guy who “just wants to talk/cuddle/watch TV/otherGRatedActivities.”  He’s rare, for sure, but he’s out there.  Even when psychopaths do pick on prostitutes, they usually choose the streetwalkers.  The ones who post coded messages online with big words and double entendre (the sly kind, not the “roses” kind) are typically not the ones they pick, because those girls usually have loved ones, or at least a friend who is expecting a phone call to say she’s alright in 15 minutes. But I digress.

I’m looking forward to it.  I don’t want my man to know, but I miss this.  It’s what I love most, other than him.  I’ve checked the penal code (*snort*).  I’m not doing anything illegal.  There could be a case for obscenity, but then you’re getting into first-amendment land, and who wants to go there? 

I kinda wish this wasn’t my version of Disneyland.  It’s frowned upon.  I don’t care what you think of me, really, but a lot of people get really mean about it when they learn you choose to turn tricks, rather than being trafficked into it.  They don’t understand the nuance, but that doesn’t stop them from being plain loud about it.  When people get so emotionally charged, you just cannot reason with them, and emotional people are just the worst, I swear. 

So, if you never see another post from me, it’s because I got murdered in someone’s apartment and now I’m in a landfill or ditch or something.  But if you do, it’s because I could afford to pay my cable bill.  Premium channels and phone line bundles are a bitch, but I need home entertainment.

And food.  Paleo ain’t cheap.

Mostly food.