Saturday, 28 November 2015

What gets women off (part one)

It's been widely concluded that it's harder for women to get aroused than men, and that it takes longer. That some women lose interest in sex. That some women have a lower libido overall than most men.

The thing is with (straight) men, a glimpse of bosom or derrière seems to be able to do it. It can fill them with instant desiring and lust.  Or horniness to be precise. I found the clock diagram below in an interesting blog post called Sexual Desire - Differences Between Men and Women by John Walter Hamilton.  Here the author claims that "there is one major disparity between the sexual motivations for men and women. Men are primarily influenced by visual stimuli whereas women tend to enjoy the emotional and romantic side of sex more."

Later he added, "this does not mean men are necessarily more “shallow” than women, or even have stronger or more “depraved” sexual needs. It is only a matter of emphasis. Women, of course, care about a man’s appearance and can be “turned on” by the sight of a handsome man, but it is a much less important factor to her than the emotional. These emotional factors include the man’s ability to provide for her and protect her; to give her security, comfort and peace of mind. Romance and seduction are much more powerful in the woman’s sexual experience than for the man."

Modern men are definitely keen on their partners being aroused, and many an advertisement has claimed a product can provide men with the know-how to drive their women wild with desire.  I recall a few years back seeing one of those online courses for sale for only three easy payments of $999.99 which was guaranteed to cause ones wife to lead one straight to the bedroom on returning home from work, with a simple series of text messages that no woman could resist.  These text messages were to be sent during the day strategically.  Glad-faced men gave testimonial after testimonial on video saying how their wives were suggesting sexual activities beyond their wildest dreams, as if a beautiful monster had finally been unleashed, or even leashed depending on her fantasy. 

So for a woman does there almost need to be some kind of story attached to an encounter to cause her to be aroused? Nothing complicated of course, just something that has piqued her emotions?

Funnily enough, women are getting back to erotica in record numbers and it's doing wonders for our sex lives. Back? Yes, back. First there was Mills and Boon, admittedly not quite the genre of erotica as romance was more socially acceptable for women to read at that time.  I remember visiting relatives who were big fans. Stacks of dogeared books with similar covers and scenarios were shared around. Even I was allowed to pick up a copy as a virgin teenager because there was absolutely no sex. That was left to our imaginations. Just a story and a hint. We filled in the rest. Of course we were helped along with cover images of women in states of about to be fucked by handsome dudes and with suggestive titles such as Fire and Sword, Glass Slippers and Unicorn and the rather naughty A Marriage Betrayed.

Even young teenage girls with their crushes on pop idols are entertaining romantic/erotic ideas as part of their developing sexuality which depends to a degree on their imaginations.  Old photos show emotion overload as beauties in front row seats at the Beatles and Elvis concerts screamed and cried almost uncontrollably in the presence of their adored ones.  It's not that Elvis or the Beatles or the pop star of the day had personally had anything to do with us, but those loving lyrics of their music was surely meant just for us, and these were sophisticated men who clearly understood us and knew what we wanted to hear, unlike the awkward and innocent we were subjected to at co-ed schools or church events, if we ever attended these. 

My first crush in my youth was the completely wholesome Donny Osmond (who was usurped by the Bay City Rollers but I'd given up on pop crushes by the time Duran Duran came along, much to the disgust of my best friend who was still besotted with Simon Le Bon).  My best friend and I spent many hours playing their songs, and when we were older we imagined together how wonderful it would be if these perfect lovers were serenading us in person.  We concocted ways that we would sneak them into our bedrooms while our protective fathers slept, so that these beautiful men could smother us in kisses of course, for our life experience at that point did not allow for raunchier fantasies.  For this reason, we always made sure we each had a different band member to fantasise about, since our fantasies often involved double dates and the pleasures of threesomes had not yet been considered.

Many of the young girls with vivid imaginations from back in the day are now ladies who have grown up and moved on to Fifty Shades of Gray - it was a best-seller so despite the mocking, someone must have been buying it.  I found that exciting to think that ladies of my generation are considering that our arousal is worth investing in.

This is one of the reasons I started with my erotica for Amazon.  It's not that I claim my writing is high end literature and erotica is not even a genre I think that I am especially good at.  Neither do I expect that the adventures of Amber O'Hara are especially arousing for the average woman, since Amber is a working girl.  (I'm just writing about what I know.)  I mention 50 year old office lady non-Amber a lot though. So maybe other ladies with secret fantasy lives can find the idea of another lady leading a double life intriguing.

So clearly for women, arousal is a mental thing.  A woman's largest erogenous zone has long been thought to be her mind.  I particularly find intelligent men who can make my brain dance very sexy.  Interestingly, I read that more emotionally intelligent women have better orgasms, actually they claim that more sex is good for women's brains: "Enhancing oestrogen levels through regular sexual activity increases overall brain activity." This is a fascinating theory, I recommend reading more.

I haven't exactly gone into the specifics of women getting off, but in most of us, it is a two step process, being aroused most definitely being the first step.  The mechanics of getting off once aroused is a separate blog post.  They go together like a horse and carriage, with arousal definitely the horse.

Thursday, 29 October 2015

Lady on lady sex work adventures

Golden Head by Golden Head, illustration by Dante Rossetti for Christina Rossetti's Goblin Market and Other Poems (1862)

Golden head by golden head,
Like two pigeons in one nest
Folded in each other's wings,
They lay down in their curtained bed

It's not just men who enjoy sexy times with sex workers.

Admittedly, the majority of sex workers' clients are men.  But we also see the occasional couple, in fact my latest Amazon kindle book is about a couple's booking.  Not a real life couple's booking: the characters I write about in my Amazon erotica are entirely fictional.

But back to ladies who visit sex workers - what do they actually expect?  The answers are many and varied, but from the woman's point of view, these can include a sexual awakening or development of a fantasy, a no-strings release, and/or a beautiful sensuous bodily experience that may or may not result in an orgasm, or all of the above.

If it is a couple's booking, the intention of the client couple is sometimes to enhance their relationship or experiment with other aspects of sexuality by involving a discreet, willing third partner, who will keep the experience strictly confidential and not expect or demand future inclusion.  Sometimes couples request the services of a sex worker to celebrate a special occasion or a milestone in their relationship.

Occasionally single women also see sex workers.  One lesbian lady described her experience beautifully in a letter to sex work blogger Maggie McNeill.

Also, here is my description from a review I wrote about my own recent experience visiting a sex worker friend of mine:

Lately I've been feeling like I wanted to do something really special for myself and I wanted it to be sensual. Obviously in this line of work I get plenty of sex and many pleasurable orgasms but I was in the mood for a lady's touch so I rang my friend Maria and asked if she could give me one of her specialty sessions ending in a yoni massage, (or erotic pussy massage).  I didn't want her to feel put on the spot, as I am her friend so it could have been awkward, but she said she is always honoured and privileged to have ladies on her table.

I really love her attitude and passion for her work and I know she does a lot of professional development, attending workshops etc and is very open-minded about sexuality.

So I'd been super aroused all week since the booking was made and as I drove to Maria's I felt a little flutter of nervousness but I was so excited, there was no way I was turning back.

It began in a very relaxed way with deciding how far things would go and basically we decided we would go with the flow. Next we both disrobed, I lay on the table and beautiful Maria was tipping warm oil all over me and massaging and caressing my body.

I was so relaxed and my senses were heightened. It was so erotic watching Maria touching me and I just let myself respond accordingly. The yoni massage was magical - Maria is so good at what she does. Instinctively she knew where to go next and the sexual energy was almost bouncing off the walls, (but in a very easy and sensual way).

More ladies could do this for themselves and I think if there are any dudes wanting to give their significant others something for special occasions this is a very reasonably priced treat with benefits on multiple levels, if you know what I mean. Thanks so much, Maria. Now I really feel spoilt. I hope I have done justice here to the amazing time we had.

Ladies who visit sex workers are not that different from male clients, in that they each have completely different desires and expectations.  For example, in the space of a few hours yesterday, I saw one man who requested a light, ticklish massage with cuddling and intimacy, and another young man who wished to be dominated, he became my "little slave boy."  Both were exciting, erotic experiences for completely different reasons.

If you are a lady who has ever considered seeing a sex worker, the two ladies' experiences (including mine) may not be what you have in mind.  But if it is something you have wanted to do to fulfil a fantasy, tick something off your bucket list, reawaken your interest in sex or just to outright get your rocks off in a different way from previously, I'd recommend phoning some escorts and trying to voice your requirements.  Sometimes it's safer to dip your toe into exploring other sexual desires of yours with a professional who will not expect further engagement like a non-sex worker may.  It may not necessarily be something you wish to continue with, but just something you have always thought of having a taste of.

Traditionally we escorts are an open-minded, non-judgmental bunch.  Essentially it's our job to help people enjoy themselves sexually.  I've mentioned before how important I believe it is for women to remain sexual and orgasmic.  Far be it for me to be telling people what to do with their sex lives, but there is no denying how good sex is for our health.  If interest has waned, sometimes a very gentle kickstart can help boost things along or some friendly discussion with a professional who can point one in the right direction, it needn't be a lesbian encounter necessarily but escorts are also great for running ideas by - not a lot shocks us and we know a bit about pleasing men and pleasing ourselves, whether there is an "issue" there or not.

Wednesday, 23 September 2015

Some men (who love their wives) visit escorts

Sometimes couples stay together because they really love each other and want to continue the personal investment they've made in their past and the family unit and home.

The monogamous ideas that have been passed down through the ages means that couple are obliged to only make love with each other until the end of their relationship. Yet the modern consensus agrees; why should a lady keep being intimate with her husband if she doesn't want to? (Playing devil's advocate here as I have my own opinions on the benefits of sex for women, specifically the benefits of orgasms).

Be honest - would you really enjoy having sex with your partner if she was not into it? Even though sometimes in marriage we do what we don't want to, a lot of men don't want to have sex with an unwilling partner so they don't force the issue.

But men still have needs, even an (incomprehensible to women) need for variety. That's why the sex industry exists. If a man has not left his wife, even though he sees escorts or his wife is no longer making love with him as often, it's because he still loves his wife or doesn't wish to disrupt the life they have built together. Good for him is what I say. 

Below is something that was sent to me by a man with the interesting distinction that he does not have sexual intercourse with sex workers.  This explains why and how he sees escorts.

I first visited a sex worker in 2003, soon after the decriminalisation of prostitution in New Zealand. This first encounter followed a protracted period of time during which my wife and I had very little sexual contact, even to the point where we had gone for up to a year at a time without sex. I had begun to wonder what it would be like to touch, and be touched by another woman. By this time I was a fairly regular user of internet pornography to first arouse and then quench my desires by masturbating. My thought process reasoned that if I visited a prostitute but didn’t actually have sex with her, and instead just enjoyed the physical sensation of touching her and being touched by her, wouldn’t that be like an advanced form of masturbation? If, instead of allowing myself to be aroused by a woman on screen with whom I had no connection, I allowed a real woman to arouse me but didn’t have sex with her, what harm would there be in gaining satisfaction from this woman with whom there was physical but no emotional connection? Whereas I craved physical and emotional closeness with my wife, could I not just satisfy my physical desires with someone else, in much the same way as I could on my own? Rightly or wrongly, this was the justification I used to satisfy the conflict within, that allowed me to do something I had previously considered to be out-of-bounds.

My Christian upbringing and long-held views on the sanctity of marriage and family values provided no answers to my craving for intimacy, which were dismissed by my wife as selfish impulses that took no account of her constant tiredness and worry. Though I understood in my mind the effect our household full of teenagers had on my wife’s state of mind and energy levels, I resented my wife for her lack of interest and I grew increasingly frustrated with our inability to connect intimately in spite of us sharing the same bed night after night.

In 2003 I was in a weekly commute, away from home Monday to Friday. I had no idea of how to get in contact with sex workers until one day I noticed the “Adult Entertainment” column in the local newspaper. A veritable smorgasbord of women offering sexual services was openly available to those seeking them. My first mobile phone, bought to keep in contact with the family whilst away from home, allowed me the freedom to make calls in private without the numbers appearing on the phone bill, so with trembling fingers and a racing heart I answered an advertisement placed by P*, listed as 28, attractive, with a nice personality and a 38DD bust. During our phone conversation she explained how the transaction would work, and when I said that I was not looking for sex, but more a bit of up-close-and-personal touching she was very understanding, and also told me that our age difference (at the time I was in my mid-forties) was absolutely nothing to worry about. She agreed to meet me at the roadside as her place was a sleep-out behind a residential address which wasn’t visible from the road and might prove tricky to locate. When I arrived she opened the car door, asked if she could get in, and upon my invitation sat in the passenger’s seat and we talked some more in the dark. After a few minutes during which I decided to take the next step, she led me to her little boudoir.

What she and I got up to that wintry night would hardly make the pages of an erotic novel, but as I drove away after my first experience with an escort I was smiling and feeling rather pleased with myself, confident and proud, similar to that feeling you get after a nice first date. Although I had never been with any other woman except my wife (we were both virgins when we were married, practically just out of our teens), I couldn’t believe how easy it was to get naked with P. Being aware of my nervousness, she had slowly removed our layers of winter clothing while she continued to explain what she could do followed by demonstrations of what she meant, all the while staying within my self-imposed behavioural guidelines for no sex. We caressed and cuddled. It was exciting and sensuous. When she first revealed her delightful breasts I felt honoured to be trusted with a beautiful woman who was willing to share her body with me. I could almost feel her just by admiring the view, and when I cupped her breasts and ran my hands over her skin I felt manly and wanted. I hadn't felt that way for a long time. She never expressed any surprise or disappointment at the limits I set upon her services. She mentioned that various customers had various needs and she wasn’t about to question motives or judge anyone.

I visited P four times during the next three months, before my weekly commute came to an end. On my final visit I said I would not be able to see her again. There was no guilt or disappointment from either of us. I realised my secret little fling was over and I would now give up on tasting forbidden fruits, and she knew there were other customers she could serve who would be just as willing and able to pay for services rendered.

Having realised how easy it was to secretly visit a sex worker, and how easily available the services of escorts were via mainstream media it wasn’t long before I called another, and another. In most cases it was just for a single visit, but every once in a while I would find a welcoming lady who treated me so nicely that I would visit again. It was to be five years though, before I relaxed my rules a little and allowed myself to be relieved at the hands of a sexy, willing woman who knew well how to please a man. One of the ladies I saw on an earlier occasion insisted that the time would eventually come when I would eagerly ask for a blow job. “They all do eventually”, she’d said, though I didn’t agree at the time. I guess she knew best. It’s not that I never wanted to; it’s that I was trying to maintain a distinction between the sex life I wanted with my wife and my other private sex life with prostitutes. I figured that if I succumbed to oral sex it would be hard to keep from fucking so I had denied myself that pleasure. I kept hoping that my wife would regain an interest in sex but it still hadn’t happened, and I came to the realisation that my wife and I were well established in what some call a sex-starved marriage.

Fast-forward to 2015, 12 years since my first encounter with P. I have visited dozens and dozens of escorts, but I have still never had sex with anyone other than my wife. Some might say, as some of the ladies have, that I am being naive, even stupid, as I have already betrayed my wife’s trust and that I am already cheating by getting intimate with another woman, and that I might as well enjoy myself fully. Perhaps they’re right, and I am cheating. It’s not so black and white in my mind though. No other woman has loved me as my wife has and does, and while my behaviour may not bear witness to what I'm about to say, I love my wife too. If one of the delightful ladies that I still see occasionally told me that she was retiring and I couldn’t see her again I would wish her well and tell her that I enjoyed my time with her.

On the other hand, if my wife were to tell me that she never wanted to see me again it would be like losing a big part of myself, because we have been as one for so long. We have shared a lifetime together. I refrain from having sex with another woman because I promised my wife that I would never forsake her; that I would never give her up. It’s still important to me that I only have sex with someone I know and trust and who wants to have sex with me as an expression of love. So far that’s only been my wife. I continually run the risk that one day she will discover my clandestine activity and in the back of my mind I hold to the thought, rightly or wrongly, that I can tell her I have neither had sex with any other woman, nor have I given my heart to another woman. I have held back by keeping something special just for her, and if she ever finds out what I have been up to, I will submit to her judgement and hers only. If I’m just fooling myself, and needlessly denying myself pleasure because I’ve already gone too far, that’s my problem and nobody else needs to worry about it.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t judge anybody for the choices they make and the sexual activities they enjoy, as long as it’s all legal and safe, and nobody is harmed. As P told me on my first visit, and others have since reinforced, we all have our differing wants and desires, freedoms and limits. The only ones with judging rights are those in relationships who feel wronged by the individuals who are engaging in sexual activities with others outside the relationship.

A couple of years ago I met a more mature and experienced lady, who told me that over the years, she had filled most of the various roles that would classify as sex work. As an older man I have always preferred seeing ladies closer to my age. It took me a while to get over the fact that some of the escorts I visited early on were younger than my daughter. While they insisted it didn’t matter to them, there is something more exciting about spending time with someone who can remember things that happened more than 20 years ago, who has life experience, especially that which comes from raising children, and who perhaps understands me better than a younger woman. There’s simply more of a connection.

This particular lady offers the most sensuous experience I have ever encountered, and each time we meet there is something different and special that we share. On our first meeting, I had arrived at her place just as she was arriving as she had been out shopping and got delayed. She invited me inside and straight after we shared a welcome hug, she unzipped her coat to reveal her complete nakedness underneath. What a turn-on, knowing she had been out shopping dressed like that! But what first attracted me to her, other than her enticing advert on the NZGirls website, was her voice over the phone. Well spoken, polite and at the same time mischievous it was clear that she was intelligent as well as sensuous. She connected with my body and my mind and she openly and honestly shared herself and her story. This was getting close to the intimacy that I craved, yet missed in my marriage and I had to keep reminding myself that our arrangement, no matter how pleasurable, was primarily of the business kind. I’ve always believed in mixing business with pleasure though, and we have also met a few times where we didn’t engage in sexual activity but instead shared time together as friends would. We see each other rarely, though I do think of her often. Is this an affair? Is she my mistress? In my mind she is a woman who shares herself with me, and with others, and may be regarded as a mistress to many. She provides men like me with an experience that makes us feel like we’re special and important. Each time we meet it’s like we’re still in the early days of a blossoming relationship, just like the first-date feeling after seeing a new lady for the first time, except we both know that we’re not pursuing a deeper level of commitment from each other. And this is perhaps the key to what keeps me engaged in the sex industry.

Visiting escorts provides the ultimate in no-strings-attached sexual enjoyment, even fulfilment. The arrangement is clear in that sexual favours, whatever they may be, are exchanged for money. Of course there are now other well known opportunities for getting no-strings-attached sex, but these come with risks that one or both participants may actually be looking for attachment, and more importantly, there is no guarantee of confidentiality. I have never visited any of the larger city style brothels as they are too public for my liking. Discretion and privacy are of the utmost importance in my secret life, and private escorts provide exactly that. Again, I have no criticism of those men who are free to be more public about what they do and where they do it. My experience has been in the suburbs, where I was initially surprised at the number of private addresses and motels from which working girls ply their trade.

It’s an absolute shame that our community, in general, takes such a dim view of prostitution. This highlights an even bigger double standard than the one I bear by claiming that I wish to remain true to my wife yet at the same time getting naked and personal with other women. It’s the escorts who are the honest ones in my mind. They do what comes naturally, and offer it to paying customers and if they choose they can be as open as they like about it, while I keep it hidden from my wife, family and friends. That’s my burden, and one I carry willingly so as to protect myself, and those I care about, from the embarrassment that would follow if I was found out, because of the general societal view of prostitution. Instead of stigmatising these ladies our society should honour them because they fill a deep seated need that otherwise would remain unsatisfied. I’m told that we would be quite surprised if we all knew who used the services of these lovely ladies, and that we would be just as surprised to learn of who is offering sexual services, for some of those ladies prefer to retain their anonymity. On both sides of the transaction it could be someone you’d least expect, so don’t judge anyone offering or accepting payment for sexual services. Try to understand why they do what they do, and think about the market forces that create and sustain the sex trade. It’s those who want sex that they otherwise can’t get; their need to feel close to someone even if it’s just at a physical level that determines the shape and size of the sex industry. Sex workers meet that need and in so doing enable their customers to feel good about themselves for a time. They create a fantasy world where adults can play and indulge themselves, then return to their real and ordinary lives knowing they can relive the fantasy again and again. It’s the stuff of dreams, yet it’s a significant part of my sensuous, secret real life.

* Ladies' names are deliberately omitted

Monday, 24 August 2015

Ways to do sex work - part three (being a domme)

What a mysterious world the provision of domination and fetish services is.  It may be an area you'd consider exploring if you have an interest in certain kinks.  Sometimes it's a service that occasionally sex workers branch out into when they are wanting to go beyond full service sex work for one reason or another.  However, being a dominatrix is much, much more than the odd spank with a paddle, encompassing psychological components and sometimes delving deeply into the past of a client and storming into their psyches, occasionally into a dark place.
Just about every full service sex worker I know has had the same old guys doing the rounds, calling or texting them offering to be their house slaves.  That would be fine, but they are usually very poor cleaners, and to add insult to injury, they expect to have their fantasies of being dominated and humiliated (that is, crawling around in the nude cleaning our loos) indulged for free or in exchange for "cleaning."

It sounds all very temptingly easy, but there are dangers involved with domming.  Occasionally things have got out of hand and seemingly gone beyond the control or skills of a Mistress.  A famous and tragic case in New Zealand from the late 80s resulted in a freaked out domme and her partner disposing of her almost lifeless client, finishing him off for good, after a domination session went horribly wrong.  But even much less extreme kinds of events could result in legal ramifications for the Mistress involved, for example around the issue of consent.  (Did that client really consent to being assaulted?)

So aside from offering a few domme services as a full service sex worker, which many do, how does one become a ProDomme, and how does one break into the scene?  Traditionally an older, more experienced domme would take a younger one under her wing and mentor her with her clients.  It might involve her being another sub of the older mistress for a bit.  However, with modern technology, this no longer seems to be the only way. Apparently there is quite a lot of training available online, for example on YouTube.

Why is training even important, surely anyone can restrain someone and brandish a cane successfully?  Sure, but there are certain areas that a cane must not go near, for example, on an area which could cause damage to the kidneys, and it was restraining her client incorrectly that caused the client I mentioned above to pass out, causing panic leading to the actions which resulted in his death.  Plus there is the psychological aspect of domming, the relationship dynamic between D/s, which is not something that can be learned overnight.

Popular ideas of BDSM in the media, such as the aspects of D/s in the well-known book/film, 50 Shades of Grey, have been widely discredited and mocked.  I asserted that the BDSM elements in the story were there merely to add drama and titillation to a fairly mild and predictable love story.

There also seems to be mistaken beliefs about faeces fetishes. Apparently scat is only about 2% of what dommes offer, and it is highly unlikely that a domme would ever eat anyone else's faeces, to put paid to a story a domme's former client attempted to convince me was fact.  Most dommes set clear limits to what they will and won't do.  When anal activities, penetration with dildos for example, are involved though, there will always be some kind of involvement with faeces but not direct contact, for example cleaning up after clients, as cleanliness is of the utmost importance and most certainly part of the essential training that a professional dominatrix needs.  There by no means will ALWAYS be faeces involved - dildos are popular but not always.  A dominatrix with many years experience clarified "Perhaps the perception is that it is often about that, but it is not.  BDSM is so varied and different with every client and there is a misconception about the amount of certain things that happen. It is as varied and different as we all are and is about the world of fantasy which is different and means different things to different people. BDSM embraces diversity in all its forms."

One thing I think is quite interesting about domme work is its theatrical aspects, right down to each set-piece in the dungeon, if they even have one.  And of course the work itself seems like extreme role play and also each client's experience is almost story-based.  The roles played are often the switch roles, that is, being forced to wear female lingerie, or being forced to clean for Mistress, mirroring what is expected of the female in the domestic role.  It can be about being tied up and trusting in another human to do such a thing and take all your power away.  Different sessions include crossdressing, bondage, role play often of the headmistress, the madam, the all-powerful woman, spanking and caning by the sharp hand of the beautiful domme, sensory sessions which are becoming more popular, naughty school boy, and forced behaviour in ways the Mistress sees fit, the wonderful world of fantasy and trust with another human being. Amazon sessions, smothering sessions, trampling sessions, and forced posture sessions - all are popular.

Is there a type of woman who is more suited to domming?  Does one need to be especially and naturally sadistic?  Word on the ground is that a domme need not be the sort who enjoys torturing kittens or pulling the wings off dying flies.

So you'd think the performance aspect of domming would appeal to me then.  While I once toyed with the idea for five minutes, I know I have no interest in caning, torture or punishment.  I don't believe it suits my personality (or persona, although I'm not as soft as some would think I am).  I mention this in case you were thinking of asking me to dominate you or allow you to be my slave. I don't even really like being addressed as Mistress either.  Being called "Mother Superior" on the other hand - that is something I could probably have a lot of fun with and I have also been known to be occasionally bossy.  I'm more than happy to take control and educate.  (But hardcore domming that is not.)

Thursday, 13 August 2015

Amber O'Hara's Private MILF Party

So what do I talk about over coffee with the mums next door? Sex of course and how we love lots of it. Last time I got together with my BFFs we came up with a plan.

As I'm going to be spending more time at home in Chch, we have decided to host our first ever private MILF party at my home in the heart of suburbia. It will be one Saturday evening when the kids are away.

Ever wanted to do a blonde, a brunette and a redhead? Well me and my friends want to do you too. All genuine naturally busty milfs, guaranteed over 40, for your pleasure. To keep things easy we will only allow three young or young-at-heart men at a time (MUST be over 18, ID may be required). That could be you and two mates or just come by yourself and see who else is here.

Freshly baked cookies will be available with milk in case you get a bit peckish. I will even be wearing my frilly apron with bosom overflowing when you arrive. No alcohol will be served, but feel free to bring a bottle of beer to calm your nerves if needed, since after all you will be faced with three gorgeous hot horny babes and any man will need guts to take on that challenge.

It will be $350 each to party with us for an hour, multiple shots with any of us ladies in any of the places available: your choice of two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a lounge, a kitchen table, the back seat of my car in the garage, on the stairs, in the closet, in the loo, in the shower - it's an open door policy so you can watch or join in with any of the ladies at any time, or just watch and wank. Or if you prefer to be private you can be briefly hidden away somewhere before we go back and join the party.

The ladies are me, Amber - a 50 year old busty natural redhead, office lady and mum. I'm a gentle loving mum with an insatiable sexual appetite and an appreciation for men and their sexual desires not to mention my own, so I'm happy to show you a few pointers on how to really please a lady.

For a busty brunette I have invited mature BBW SavourMe the proud owner of a pair of G cup jumbos, that's right. Her tits are enormous, I've had the pleasure of groping them myself and I can assure you those fun bags are 100% natural. You can bounce them, swing them or snuffle your face right in these heavy hangers and if you happen to be doing this while she has your cock in her mouth, a billion of your fantasies will come true all at once.

Last but not least is my bi lover, my busty blonde friend Eve, the farmer's wife country lady from rural North Canterbury. If there is a lull in proceedings because all the men are savouring SavourMe, Eve and I will be sure to be entertaining each other and welcoming everyone else to join us when they are good and ready.

By the end of the hour you will be utterly exhausted and hoping you get invited back to our next private MILF party. In the meantime you will have a lot to think about during your solitary moments.

Contact me to find out more and reserve your place on 022 074 8964.

Monday, 27 July 2015

Actresses on Mattresses

While sex workers can genuinely feel affection for some clients, there is usually an element of acting involved (as opposed to robotic and clinical sex work), whether it involves putting on a brave face when things are less than stellar in their private lives, or acting professionally pleasant when you just don't feel like it as is expected in many occupations, but also occasionally a bit of character acting. 

The phrase "actresses on mattresses" may be referring to sex workers' skills with PSE and GFE, but I like to think that one of the most fun aspects of sex work is participating in a random fantasy of someone else.

Back in the day I really enjoyed attending theatre sports, an off-the-cuff display of an actor's ability to adapt to any scenario thrown at them by the audience, in competition with other actors.  Hilarity was guaranteed to ensue as we watched the actors respond and move a key phrase or two along very cleverly.

Phone sex can be a bit like that if I'm given a fantasy to role-play and develop. I have my favourite kind of role-plays: the more outrageous the better and inappropriate is most definitely fun. I also have a couple of clients who have specific role plays they like me to participate in - one interesting role I play is as a middle-aged dowager, his mother in fact (but that's another blog post).

Sometimes clients can be so well known to a sex worker that they are as comfortable as an old shoe, which has definite advantages, but one still needs to keep sexual activity fresh and a little naughty. There is such an advantage to knowing a client well and being able to include in the role-play things that you know will push his buttons and delight him to the extreme.

In my latest short piece of erotica on Amazon kindle, Rock Star Report, a long time client is a lover of breast action so no matter how ridiculous, he is always given a chance to be titillated by my tits.
"Now you be the slutty schoolgirl trying to bribe her teacher with sexy stuff to get out of detention," he said when he came up for a breather.

I immediately dropped to my knees and grabbed his cock and rubbed the head of it in my cleavage.

"Please, Mr Jones. I didn't know I still had the gum in my mouth. I promise never to chew gum ever again in class."

"You should do up your buttons and ask your mother to buy you a blouse the next size up. And leave my cock alone, Amber. I don't want to have to tell you again. You're being a very naughty girl touching me like that. That is unacceptable. I'm going to have to spank you for that."  He sounded so cute putting on a posh accent.

"Really?" I said. "Can you please?" I jumped up and turned around, bending over and giving him my naked behind to spank, while reaching back to finger my pussy. He groaned and pulled me onto his knee. I squealed with surprise.

"After I've given you a good spanking, we can go for a ride in my car and I will buy you an ice cream - only if you're a good girl and do what you're told."  He leered at me lecherously.  I looked up at him innocently.

There is surely a special place for those prepared to take their acting a little bit further for the purpose of fulfilling a fantasy then.

In role plays for sex work, we have to think fast and on our feet, not everyone is able to master this skill.  But it's fun to bring out our inner actresses to such an extreme. Actors generally love meaty roles, and to play a woman who sticks her middle finger to society, especially sexually, whether as a professional sex worker or enthusiastic amateur is fantastic fun - to get to be the bad girl but not actually "be" it. I often think about my early days as a sex worker, right in at the deep end and wonder if that was part of the appeal, to express my bad girl-ness, to live it.  It really is a skill being bawdy and to improvise a little vaudevillian series of characters and situations.

It's a fun thing for couples to do. On Modern Family I love how Clive and Juliana get an occasional airing - so much suggestion of wacky bedroom activity to follow, I love it.  As they are acting a role within another role they are acting, their performance is expected to be a little clumsy - over-acting and camping it up is all part of the fun to empasise the expected amateur skills of the actors. 

Therefore, as a failed "actress" - who bizarrely got typecast in similar roles even with similar names when I acted as favours in friends' minor productions (ask me about it when you come and see me) - role play as a sex worker is perfect for me. I'll know I've truly made it as an actress beyond sex work when Shortland Street create a cameo for me as a sex worker whom a naughty married doctor visits for some occasional afternoon delight with my face strategically obscured or omitted like Tim Taylor's neighbour, Wilson, in Home Improvement  (or wouldn't Bro'town have been fun?)

In the meantime, I get plenty of practice being the best mate's mum who is dying for a fuck, the wife who can't get enough and wants her husband to watch her sucking another man's cock, and even a horny grandma.  Perhaps not quite the type of character New Zealand early evening television is ready to include after all.

Tuesday, 7 July 2015

What it's like to be the only one

Stephanie Hunter - Australian Escort (click on images to enlarge)

I've been in touch with a few escorts from Australia as well as one or two kiwi escorts now working over the ditch.  It seems that even though our laws are similar, that is, that penetrative oral sex must also be covered, in recent times, in Australia sex workers have begun to mostly offer unprotected oral sex (known as BBBJ*).  

My colleague Stephanie Hunter is one of the few independent Australian escorts who do not offer BBBJ and she has established herself as a high-end escort.  She is an international travel companion, escort, call girl.  But it wasn't always like this, so I asked her to provide a history of the industry in her view, to tell me her story.  I also asked her how she is so successful while not offering unprotected services, it seems she has turned her consideration of sexual health into a point of difference.

The title may be a little misleading. I am not the only one, but one of the very few, lets just say, who refuses to change. Why fix something that isn't broken?

In life, you need to learn to  crawl, before you can walk, and before you can run.  In the adult industry it is exactly the same.  In that exact same order.   I am more or less a veteran in my industry.  I began working in my early 20s initially for an escort agency.  I was so green.  I knew absolutely nothing about it.  That was my crawling stage.  I studied the ladies I worked with.  I was in awe of their abilities and worldly experience.  I soaked up their knowledge like a sponge.  I was fascinated.

I soon got tired of the escort agency and wanted to explore further.   I then explored the options of working in brothels.  That was interesting.  Back in those days, brothels like the Daily Planet were so much fun to work in.  The atmosphere is very different to today.  Back then, it was one giant party.  The women were glamorous, truly they looked like models and actually took the time to look elegant. The men were generous and fun.  It was a different era.

This was a time when ladies made a killing every night without too much effort.  There wasn't the competitive backhanded undercutting schemes employed by some of the ladies new to the industry today.  There really were unwritten rules, and somehow everyone followed them.

At that time, there were few ladies who worked privately.  Most either worked for agencies or brothels. The registration process in Victoria put a lot of ladies off from working privately. As a result, there was maybe only half a dozen that worked privately.  And we all knew each other and looked after each other.

After my stints in brothels I decided to work privately.  I did all the right things, register etc and decided private work was for me.  I wanted to be in control of what I did and when I did it.  It was naturally the next step!

I haven't looked back.

I registered my international website in 2000.  I was one of the first ladies to do that at the time.  Internet advertising was very new in Australia, but established in the US, before social media was around.

I still own it for sentimental reasons.  The domain name has been very good to me.

In that period, I managed to also take large periods of time off from the industry and actually have a life. The last big break was nearly 7 years.  When I did come back, I found the industry in shambles.

Now, there are thousands of  ladies that work privately.  They have moved away from agencies and brothels and discovered what I discovered in 2000.  There is also a big difference of how they have embraced that change.  Not all of it good, and it hasn't been refined yet in many ways.

Gone are the days where ladies actually looked out for each other.  Now we find (even illegal) services provided which were never provided in the past, in the hope of getting clients.  It smells and looks of desperation.  Although the economy has changed, there are still plenty of clients, more than enough for everyone.

In the past, a client would not even consider asking you to give him a blow job without a condom.  That was just not the done thing.  Today, it seems a great number of them consider it standard service.

There are several reasons why I would never provide a BBBJ service - the one most common service on offer in Australia at the moment, even though it's illegal.  Best reason and most important one for me is this one:  Despite wide misconceptions by many, it is taking a risk.  When a risk with your health is taken, at some point, you will bear the consequences regretfully.  Maybe not today or tomorrow, but eventually you will.  It's a percentage thing with russian roulette.

Most common STI contracted through BBBJ are: gonorrhea, genital herpes and syphilis.  Some of the less likely, yet still possible STIs to catch through unprotected blow jobs are: chlamydia, HIV, hepatitis A, B, C and genital warts.

It's really a no brainer when you look at these risks.  The more risks are taken, the greater the chance of contracting these nasty STIs.  Any of you can confirm these with a doctor.  I did.

There is also PSE (porn star experience), GFE (girlfriend experience), CIM (come in mouth), BBBJ and the list goes on and on.

I studied and analysed this enormous change when I first came back and made a firm unwavering decision.  A decision that has served me extremely well.  And I am so glad I did.

Some of the issues I considered were:
1. Was I prepared to put my health at risk for a quick $$? Answer: No
2. Was I prepared to be firm under pressure to do anything I was not comfortable with? Answer: Yes
3. Was I prepared for long periods of not making money as a result? Answer: Yes
4. Was I prepared for the backlash from the industry because of my views? Answer: Yes
5. Was I prepared to market myself in a different way with long term results? Answer: Yes

Initially, it was hard.  It was very, very hard.

Building your clientele base from almost scratch was harder, especially since I refused to provide an unsafe service which was/is the norm of today.  But in time, I have successfully managed to rebuild my clientele, and it is regular and comfortable.  I haven't sacrificed my belief system because of pressure from an evolving industry.

I looked at my strengths and weaknesses, and concentrated on my strengths.

I worked towards establishing long-term connections with clients.  Repeat business with like-minded individuals. I nurtured them, and concentrated on these.  When you establish a long term client relationship, the lines are blurred.  You become friends almost.  And working doesn't feel like working when seeing them.  It becomes a "date" and you can be yourself.  And they feel that too.

I have and continue to concentrate on quality clients, smaller number but quality clientele.

My age, being a more mature lady, has also played a great role in getting better clients.  As a result, majority of my appointments are dinners and lunches.  Because business men, mature gents, do not want to go out to lunch with a twenty-something lady.  Mainly because it looks odd and conversation doesn't flow as easily as someone more worldly and older. It's just a fact, not a judgement.

In summary, I don't mind being one of the few ladies in Australia that does not offer BBBJ*, Anal, PSE* or CIM*.  I actually love that.  I offer something that can't be replicated and easily acquired by the masses.  And my regular clientele know what that is and must be of value, otherwise, I wouldn't have a clientele base and still be in demand.

In case you were unable to keep track:
* BBBJ - bare back blowjob or oral sex without a condom
* PSE - porn star experience
* CIM - come in mouth

Tuesday, 23 June 2015


Everyday I write the book by Elvis Costello

I once met a music industry dude who I enjoyed discussing the art of playlists with.  I boldly asked him to compile a mix tape for me off the top of his head based on what he knew of me.  Second on his playlist was one of my favourites, Everyday I Write The Book by Elvis Costello and the Attractions.  Nice choice.

I have always loved words, the sound of them, the meaning.  I was talking about this with a young relative who said they hated the word moist.  It's so drippy.  I like that about it though, it feels warm and possibly a bit dirty.  We both agreed the word cherish is beautiful: the sound of it with the ch and the sh at the ends, and the meaning of encompassing care and affection.

Imagine a group of genteel Christian ladies enjoying their afternoon tea at the house of one of them, only to hear a little red haired girl chanting some newly acquired vocabulary as she jumped on a bed in a next door room.  "Shit!"  "Damn!"  "Shit!"  "Damn!"  "Shit!"  "Damn!"  Obviously the meanings were unknown to the child, but she definitely knew that the use of such words was forbidden and they certainly earned a hasty reaction.

I can't remember a time I haven't written or enjoyed words, or writing about sex.  It has got me in for trouble at times.  In primary school, we made our stories into booklets and they were hung around the class - being so prolific, mine dominated the walls.  My first attempt at the genre of erotica was intercepted by my Form 2 teacher, who confiscated it and made me retrieve it from the staffroom a few days later.  I hope they enjoyed it.  It wasn't bad, but was mainly limited to masturbation, voyeurism and breast play in its content, due to my limited life experience.  A few years later, I wrote to a boy who I exchanged letters with (which is what people were in the habit of doing as there was no such thing as email, facebook or texting).  In the letter I described an intimate encounter we had enjoyed in my distinctive schoolgirl handwriting.  This letter was found by his mother.  Oh dear.  Writing things down was not always a good thing.

I still love dirty words, words so filthy they could harbour bacteria.  I write this blog about sex work.  I sext with clients (I offer it as part of my phone sex service).  But I also inoffensively flirt with strangers.  A few words delivered in a certain way can say a lot.  If you doubt me, consider the delivery of the song, I'll Take Care of You, by two different artists.  Etta James' version is full of intimate promise, she's sensuous.  Gil Scott-Heron's version is about protection, he's bruised.

There is usually a tumble of words in my head, like everyone, they are called thoughts, our own personal commentary of life.  Because my life is so concerned right now with sex, because I have so much of it, at least more than the average woman my age, due to my occupation as a sex worker, I enjoy many delicious thoughts consisting of words about sex.  I like to stay present in my body during intimacy and describe each sensation to myself, sometimes recalling the phrases later, and tying each feeling in with each word.  I love to give words real meaning in this way.  Not just while cavorting naked, whereever I am, I am naturally observant, always defining what I see, giving it to myself.

There are another couple of things I enjoy writing about, including one which is related to a university qualification I have and another is erotica, poles apart from the first.  I write under noms de plume, for privacy, but also because each of the names I write with produce different work.  I do not claim that what I write is high-brow literature, it's open to ridicule.  Do I care?  Not about this.  I write with a half-smile at all times.  I am smiling because I enjoy it, because it's a little subversive and because I still delight in being so darn naughty.  I've never stopped being that troublesome girl.  Let the alarmable be alarmed.  Let the critical critique.  I'll keep writing.

Many sex workers and ex-sex workers write autobiographically about sex work nowadays.  It's good for us, it is good for readers, to demystify our work.  I was surprised when I was researching images about some of the places I wrote about in my ship girl post that there was no material about it online anywhere.  In my opinion, this is important historical information.

Then I read a piece on the Wellington sex industry of old in Fishhead, saying that ship girls did not receive money, they just went on to ships to party.  It is not true in all cases.  We ship girls who slept with Japanese seamen most definitely received money, in fact it was very well organised - right down to the set amount to be charged - considering we did not have middle men to tell us how to do things and look after us.  The story in the magazine was half-true though as the ladies who went on boats with Caucasians did not receive payment, those ship molls were not actually prostitutes.  I found this out for myself when I went on a Russian ship one day.  I did have a nice time, but not a cent was earned that night.  Sex workers writing down their experiences dispels myths.  And it's good for us to straighten out our thoughts about what we are doing and have done.

If you are familiar with Julia Cameron's book, The Artist's Way, which I recommend every sort of artist keep a copy of, she prescribes three pages of longhand writing every morning to keep ones creativity lubricated, first thing, on awakening.  I love to do this myself.  Morning is my favourite time to write.  I write a lot, especially in the very early morning before work when the city is quiet, until it begins to buzz awake.  Other writer friends of mine use voice recorders so that phrases they like do not escape, but I keep a little Moleskine with me at all times.  Even when I am out walking, I will stop and write something that comes to mind.

So how do I write?  I start with one thought then spill it all out in one go.  This technique is known as free writing.  It is useful even for university assignments - I was mostly a straight A student - but it is an especially fun way to write erotic stories.  I write with no judgment whatsoever, I just get it all down.  I then go back and edit and delete.  Sometimes I choose to use the same phrases throughout a story just because I like the sound of them.  For example, my favourite words for genitals are cock and pussy, if you haven't noticed.  I like them for their actual meanings, and that literally a cock: proud, angular, with a spiky beak, and pussy: soft cuddly, fluffy but with scratchy claws do not work in actuality together, but are a perfect colloquial fit in heterosexual sex, in my opinion.  I like that they are so 1970s corny porn-ish.  I just love a cock and a pussy.  Another phrase I love is soft and wet.  Soft, wet.  I use those words a lot, in that order.  Here are some more I find quite evocative:  Rock hard.  Throb.  Juicy.  Moist.  Twitch.

If you find what I write a bit much, feel free to skip it.  Otherwise, the future may hold something of interest for you.  Read on.

Monday, 15 June 2015

Is your heart safe?

Can sex work involve real affection or is one or both parties just being played?

I don't consider whatever feelings I've ever had or that have ever been declared to me during sex work 'true love', whatever the fuck that is, but I think the euphoria is a blissful experience to be enjoyed while it lasts, made from the chemistry of two people who initially hit it off in the boudoir, and it can grow over time into a friendship.  Clients are not really seen by sex workers nowadays as cardboard cutout clients as a whole, and I personally love getting to know them as the individuals they are with their quirks, kinks and sense of humour as we relax into each other's company.  I feel a great deal of fondness for most of the clients which I have a beautiful connection with and often the sentiment is returned.  I enjoy it, I think it's quite natural and I don't have a problem with it.  I'm pretty fickle though, if I get the slightest hint that I am being played, that sweet feeling can instantly dissolve.  I consider the suggestion of freebies, (after all I still need to make a living, bills to pay etc), the first sign of this, or asking for favours such as not using protection or whatever.

Some would consider that a sex worker actually feeling affection towards her clients is unprofessional, but sex workers have a right to enjoy their work and one way to do this is to find your clients likable, enjoy their company and naturally in sex work, their sexual desires.  In fact, unless you approach sex work completely robotically ("clinically") it is difficult not to.  If you look for the good in people, you will usually find it.  It's no more inappropriate to like ones clients, to a point, as a sex worker, than it is for a counsellor to like his or her clients, or a child care worker to genuinely care for the children in his or her care - in fact for anyone in business to care about and like their clients and want to serve them the best way they can.  Obviously these are parallel occupational comparisons, I am not saying that sex workers' clients necessarily need to have someone to talk to, or to be infantilised, unless that is a particular kink of theirs of course.

I have also heard a couple of clients tell me stories of sex workers they have become attached to over time - everything is rosy, fine and dandy, and then the sex worker will hit a crisis in her life, like a relative will get a health condition and a car will be needed or something like that.  I've never actually known anyone who has hit up a client for financial help, but when I've been told about clients who have helped ladies with "loans", or been asked to, unsurprisingly it has not worked out well.  I do feel that was a bad move, but I was regularly told as a child by a wise elderly lady: "never a lender or a borrower be" so I would be unlikely to do it.  It must be really disappointing for a client who thinks they have a nice friend in this understanding, loving sex worker, then she hints she needs some dosh, out of the kindness of his heart he offers to lend it to her, never to be repaid - just to think how I'd feel gives me a sinking feeling - it must hurt.  However generally speaking there is no real reason sex workers and clients can't form honest and affectionate ongoing "friendships," as defined by themselves, including ones which are mutually beneficial.

When I was a young bimbo, (and my god! What a bimbo I was) I was totally awestruck/lovestruck by a beautiful gay man, without knowing he was gay initially, who was part of an intimidating circle of talented young artists, writers and actors that I happened upon the edge of.  They were all brimming with good looks, style and amazingness (they still are) and I felt way out of my comfort zone, not to mention my league.  Having been a red-haired dork girl during my childhood, albeit a pretty one, I was unaccustomed to the ways of the cool kids.  He and his friends were all so sweet to me despite the fact that I clearly wasn't his sort and he could have been a total humiliating ass to me as my vulnerable heart dangled on a string before him, just for the laugh of it, but he was far too high-minded for that and we became great friends.  I always look back at how graciously he treated my unrequited love and have vowed that should the boot ever be on the other foot, that I would handle the situation with as much magnanimity.

In contrast to the lovely group of people as described above, I also used to know some crims back in the day who actually used to say "kindness is a weakness" and look for any opportunity to rip someone off.  I witnessed people being kind enough to welcome them into their houses, where the robbers would be looking around at valuable belongings and casing for weaknesses in the property's security, in case they decided to come back later and break into the place, that is actually how their thought processes worked and what their conversations would consist of, not that they trusted even each other as far as they could kick them to not rip each other off should they participate in any criminal arrangements together anyway.  I think people who misuse the affection other people feel for them are no better really.  I have no place for people like that in my life, sex workers who do it, or clients either.  My feelings for the moment are genuine, and I would be insulted if anyone was to suggest otherwise, likewise, inspired by my gay friend who I mentioned above, anyone professing such feelings would be treated with the same gentleness and kindness, which I would want to be treated with until the feeling ran its course, as it eventually does.  The feelings do not really have real or permanent intentions behind them in a transactional interaction, but they are there as an expression of enjoyment as much as anything.

I don't see the modern sex worker as just a purveyor of sexual services, but for some clients she is a multi-layered and reliable comfort, like a loving and caring sexual dance partner for now in this part of someone's life.  (That is, if they want it and if they connect.  It's not compulsory either.)

Tuesday, 2 June 2015

Me as Mrs Jones, a MILF

MILF, Ms O'Hara, has a thing going on with a number of young and young-at-heart men

My non-Amber, slightly frumpy, mother-next-door self lives a double life as an insatiable MILF and this little secret injects a huge amount of spice into my life.

As Amber, I am ready in my boudoir wearing tiny corsets, stockings and sometimes long leopard-patterned fuck me boots with dangerously high heels.  Sometimes I wear a faux fur coat, which I am happy to urgently remove, revealing my delicate smalls.  I love to look through my wardrobe and choose from my lingerie, stockings and little dresses.  I have my favourites: fishnet thigh-highs are pleasing to run my hands over, as well as symbolic of bad girls, and anything black and lacy is elegant yet racy, perfect for my mood.

I love my shoes to be blingy and slutty, and I adore boots, especially over-the-knee ones which, showing just a small slice of a slender thigh, can't be anything but tantalising while even slightly practical with winter approaching.  I was just saying to a friend, as we were driving past street-based sex workers, that they could wear leg-warmers under their long boots and be perfectly warm.  Who knows, maybe they do?  However, in my closet, my collection of garments are chosen to be shed after only the briefest of moments, and practical knitted items do not feature.

Once alone together, due the exigent tasks ahead, including but not limited to fucking, I am soon parting my pale thighs to welcome the man-of-the-hour into my private world, where anything could happen, but whatever it is, it will most certainly be pleasurable with my tender guidance.

The thing about horny men which I love is their pressing desire for a woman.  Yes, I do love to take my time, encouraging a man to indulge and be indulged, but sometime that needs to be put aside for round two due to the insistence by ones loins for an immediate result.

And at the end of that never-long-enough time, we bid goodbye with flushed faces and a modest kiss ... until next time or maybe never again, just a fond memory.

It's so much fun to have a dirty secret, or to be someone's dirty secret.  I could pass my clients in the street and I probably wouldn't be noticed, or maybe a whiff of my perfume or an unintentional glimpse of my pearlescent decolletage would trigger a flashback of our encounter.  For while in my other life, my gentle self is more ordinary and practical, the same goes for my bedroom heroes - the men whose day-to-day existence includes achieving goals and meeting obligations.

A little escapism (mostly) never does anyone any harm.