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Its your basic story about a horny girl trying to satiate her sexual appetite, fit into society and function. She gets married and works as a sex worker along the way. A bit cheesy but I love the ending lines and her description of orgasms, “connecting with the cosmos, flying among the stars…”
Gala’s cherubim face, serpentine body and breathing are some of my favorite parts of this. I loved watching when she straddles my body, the tatts on her back almost look like little wings in the color contrast to her milky white skin. Part nymph and part venus in furs I think this is ultimate proof that having sex with faeries is totally real. See for yourself, visualize The Kiss at IFeelMyself.com
Check out my lucubration on IFeelMyself.com where I talk with the lovely Viva about hiking, sex work and dirt.
Back in South Florida for a wee bit to find my sun. Catch me while you can Please watch this video, like it on youtube and spread the word.
Freedom of religion is what our great nation was supposedly founded on, correct? For those of you that haven’t been following the case of the recent shut down of an Arizona Tantric temple check out this article No, a tantric temple where someone can donate for rituals that comprise of sexual encounters is not much different than a brothel even though its under a spiritual pretext, however I believe that religion been a business of some sort for a while and as long as mormons, scientologists, catholics and jews get to practice their beliefs openly and accept donations for their temples, so should we. Read the following letter and follow this link to support.
 Lake Eyre, South Australia I want to tell you about what I’ve been doing but I haven’t found the words yet. I took a break from work and caught a ride north, visited strange towns and big salt water lakes in the middle of the desert, volunteered at a kangaroo orphanage (they are the COOLEST ANIMALS! THEY HAVE AN EXTRA SET OF EARS IN THEIR FEET!),  kangaroo kisses saw some big orange sacred rocks and wicked cave paintings, experienced the ultimate trail fail by running out of water, getting lost and being chased by bushfires. I camped on a mountain when I got stuck and woke up in the middle of the night to a windstorm and the whole world was on fire, every direction giant raging wild fires. I will never forget that image, the big bright moon, what stars you could see through all the smoke and fires all around. No I didn’t take any photos. I was too worried about being burned to death or getting dehydrated and delirious. I promised myself that would be the last time I’d go bushwalking by myself (even Bear Grylls has a camera man!), but I know I lied, really I just want more training in orienteering and backpacking and maybe an epirb and a gps. How did I get out? I backtracked through the fires because I figured it would be better than getting more lost, my water was low and at least I’d be able to get out of there, if I just kept walking. Then I had my first acid trip two days after I got back into town which has been by far the best thing ever. I saw stars in the sky that were too far away to be seen, they came closer and winked at me. Seeing those stars felt strangely familiar. How does acid do that? Everything was like a story and I could feel the rhythm and knew the things and the people were connected, I felt so happy, the corners of my mouth just kept sneaking into a smile. The whole night was magickal, I begged my partner in crime for another dose, which he gave me, reluctantly, trying to explain that its going to last for another few hours but I didn’t care. If I could trip on acid everyday I probably would, but you can’t because you start to build up a tolerance to it, so its something special that you can only do once in a while which makes it even more cool. 
I realized, whilst tripping face, that I may have trail failed but really I need to do work on the inside instead of trying to physically go places I just need to settle down and go inward. Thank you LSD. You amazing colorless, odorless chemical of wonder. Now I’m back in the city, working and trying to stabilize myself. Since March I have been on a weird rollercoaster of emotions. Apologies to those that listened to me go on and on and on again about how I don’t know what I’m doing with my life, I still don’t. I hope that it comes soon. I’m pretty tired of acting like I have my shit together when clearly I don’t have a clue. I’m tired of saving face because I’m worried that writing publicly about engaging in sex work and other topics of activism might sway people’s opinions towards those issues. Well, fuck it. I’m sad and depressed and lonely and confused. I cry everyday because I don’t know where I’m going and time keeps passing and theres no one here except for myself to bounce thoughts off of. There’s nothing in particular wrong apart from a shitty economy which has driven me to work overseas in a system that while its a safe, legal alternative to what I used to do, is not really my thing. At home I would never sit down for ten hours at a time in a little room with a bunch of other chicks and reality tv blaring in the corner waiting for people, I’d be at the beach and wait for an email and then head back to the beach after the appointment. There were breaks and bicycle rides to blow off steam and cleanse my soul but here its just long hours and graveyard shifts and mcdonald’s sex. Shitty sex. Like some of the worst sex I have ever had in my entire life. Its not all bad and sometimes its ok and good and hot but mostly I am just frustrated that I can’t work in the way that I want or am accustomed to doing unless I want to go home and hope that things haven’t gotten worse since I left. Wah wah wah, boo fuckin hoo. I know.
I’m pretty sure I’m going to put all of my focus on a home. Its time. I have lots more traveling to do and maybe its a bit premature for me to be thinking about settling down somewhere but I’m tired and worried that if I don’t put forth the effort now to create a safe space for myself, I never will or never will have the opportunity to again. Sounds melodramatic or whatever but stable living spaces are maybe just unattainable dreams for some of us that have never had that. I’m worried about feeling trapped and about major commitments but I had a client the other day that said something insightful about living next to the ocean when I told him that I was homesick, “Yeah, there’s just something about living next to the beach that makes you want to get up in the morning and do something.” I think that is the major element that’s been missing. I think… Furry Girl is at it again! Not only did she create the amazing and informative SWAAY.ORG but she is also raising money to create America’s First Sex Worker Rights Billboard. Check it out and donate! I ponied up $100 and for anyone that can match my donation or more, email me for a special surprise… Sorry for the short post, but I’ve been on the road again for the past couple weeks, from roo sitting to new trails. I’ll be back with some stories in a few… He’s 37 and has never had a girlfriend. He says that Florida is one of his favorite places because thats where Disney World is. When I ask him what his attraction to DW is, he says thats where dreams come true. The way he states this and the look in his eye when he says it almost makes me cry. I write that single line in my journal…disney world is where dreams come true. His cock is tiny and he keeps harping on his embarassment about this. Whilst most might jump to the conclusion that this is the cause of why he doesn’t have a girlfriend, I’d have to disagree and say that its social expectations of gender performance and social anxiety and a very closeminded definition of what heterosexual sex is supposed to look and feel like that has lead to this. *** Honestly, I’m pro gun when it comes down to it. People are always finding ways of hurting eachother and in most countries where they babysit what types of weapons you’re allowed to have people leave guns and turn to knifing. I’d rather be shot than knifed, as I’m sure most would. I think the focus should be on why folks feel the need to take “justice in their own hands” so to speak, rather than focusing on what type of weapong they’re using to seek it. His talk of Maine and the states makes me homesick. Homesick for a home I don’t have and never had had really. I’ve never felt so in love with the U.S. than I have right now. Its strange and looking back my teenage self would have vomited at the fact that I actually prefer rednecks and hicks over pretentious liberal know it alls and anti-americans at this point. Its weird. Its strange. Maybe this is what growing up is all about. We have a good time. I kiss him on the cheek and tell him to have a great night or morning or whatever. *** *** He wears a small leather string around his waist. He says its for god. He says he’s Hindu. He books me for an hour and takes his time. He gives me a massage, which is nice and rare in this environment. *** He’s a big, muscly type covered in tattoos and says he’s been partying for three days straight. I ask him what he does and he says nothing, I call him a thug and he smirks. When it comes down to it, he’s just a teddy bear. *** He’s a young boy and came in with his friend. Two blonde kids, aryan poster children. For some strange reason when they’re my age or younger I feel odd about the booking. I have absolutely no justifications for that. He initially says he just wants a handjob, because he has a girlfriend. He’s super cute, skater boy haircut, acne and all. I go along with it and somewhere in the middle he decides he wants to fuck me. He asks for my number and I just giggle and tell him to go home to his girlfriend. *** He’s an accountant. A finanical planner. A delivery boy. A banker. A builder. A brick layer. A bullshitter. *** I ask them their birthdays, sometimes they look at me strangely. I tell them I’m an astrology nerd. Sometimes I get many clients of the same sun sign or under the same element and wonder what thats supposed to mean if anything. If you’re a sagitarrius, you’re sure to fall in love with me, a leo and you’ll project most of your shit onto me and expect a bravado performance, cancers want affection and are generally quiet, aquarians and I will have a mental connection, the geminis I’m too much alike, the aries want to father me which is sometimes a turn on, the virgos pay attention to detail and cleaniless…the capricorns are usually doing things they shouldn’t be (madonna/whore syndrome)…libras are easy and the pisceans are sweet. Scorpios are rare, actually I don’t even think I’ve had one. I wonder if I was able to get their chart beforehand if maybe we would have this down to a science by now. *** Its strange, in this context to provide the service that I do. Its all upfront and a routine by now. I introduce myself in the lounge and state my services, what I do what I don’t do, they either pick me or they don’t. Sometimes they ask me where I’m from, sometimes they don’t catch my accent at all. When they do pick me I lead them up to the room that the receptionist dictates, do a dick check and tell them to take a shower, make sure I point out where the soap and listerine is. I return a few moments later with condoms and lube. At the end of the booking I straighten up the room. They hop in the shower while I make the bed and lay out fresh towels. I take another shower, the 3rd or 4th or 5th of the night. I wipe down the stall, put my dress back on and pick up the used towels and sheets. Its safe, its regulated. But in some ways its devoid of all the creativity I used to love to put into my encounters. Maybe this is just the exchange you make for safety and consistency. Like any business I suppose. *** *** He says he’s not married, thats why he’s here. *** He says that his wife doesn’t like sex thats why he’s here. *** He says that he was out late with friends, he’s engaged, he’s not supposed to be doing this…but he was horny…thats why he’s here. *** I smile, I laugh, maybe too much. I’m charming and sometimes I cry, not because this is bad or it bothers me but because somewhere in this physical connection, their dick inside me spurs something, a memory, a spark of something else of somewhere else…of someone else entirely that I miss dearly. I tell them its my contacts or allergies. Sometimes they believe me and sometimes they don’t, a disturbed look will come into their eye like they never realized what they were about to do in the first place. *** Once I wanted to be the greatest, no wind or waterfall could stall me, but then came the rush of the flood, the stars at night turns deep to dust… -Cat Power. I’m somewhere in the middle of exploring a clients body when bam, a picture comes up in my mind. Its memories of forest, random and not related. What section of forest is this? Àlmost a mental game of sorts I play in betweem handjobs and blowjobs and sex. When talking to my aunt she says its called disasscociation, you’re there but you’re not. She says this happens to her during her massage practice at times. I remember a shelter that I walked into where Not Yet and some other folks are camped for the night. This certain shelter doesn’t have water, but someone was kind enough to leave a box of wine. I remember the way the trail curved around the forest there, somewhere in Virginia. I remember the way the light looked, the sun setting amongst the trees… I look at land prices online, I look at house prices in Lake Worth. Things are cheap but not cheap enough for what I have put away at this exact moment in time. I google land buying advice and everyone says not to be in a hurry. I’m trying really hard to do that. Once upon a time I wanted a community and I thought I found it but I didn’t fit in and I couldn’t relate to people that mostly tried to exist without money because they were funded with trust funds or had connections. Connection. I connect alright, four days a week. That word doesn’t even seem right. On a molecular level were all the same shit, we’re made of stars, right? Aren’t we all connected all the time anyways? Where is the separation? Is it just a social nicety? A client slipped the condom off without me noticing a few shifts ago, I freak out and hit him, hard. I’m not sorry. A few shifts later another one slips off, accidently, somehow in the midst of passion and changing positions. I break down because, while its a small gesture of separation it means a lot to be able to trash the experience at the end of it. Social niceties. Thank Goddess for social medical programs and free STI testing here. I meet up with a girl in a bar, we talk about roadtrips North to the desert. I try to do the math in my head of how much it might cost versus how much I might make in that time off. Maybe I can make up for it when I come back, add an extra shift to the week or something. Maybe it will be worth it because I’ll be refreshed even though I feel like I’m finally getting into the groove of this shit or something. People stress that it might not be worth it if I’m not happy, it might not be worth it if I can’t balance the lifestyle. Have I tried living without money? To this I want to ask if they’ve tried living without the support of their parents or family or friends. I don’t want to be angry, I don’t want to judge. I don’t want to be classist. But for once I would like to hear the story of a girl that was like me and made it out ok. The Glass Castle came close. But I didn’t graduate from highschool and I don’t fancy writing about celebs. Really, at the end of it all I’d like the title to be: This Is The Home That Sex Bought, a nice picture, me laughing, a dog somewhere in the background…and a nice boy (or girl) that could tolerate being with someone like me. |
 "Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I will meet you there..." -Rumi    The Dirty Girl Zine - first in a series about our cultural ideals regarding dirt/nature and sexuality.  Buy My Homemade Porn!   Support Independent Porn! "Pornography is supposed to arouse sexual desires. If pornography is a crime, when will they arrest makers of perfume? -Richard Fleischer"  Awesome, Artistic and Intelligent Erotica  A cute hairy girl that likes to masturbate and take nudie pics!   Natural, Hairy, Dreadlocked, Hemp Wearing, Barefoot, Earth-loving, Goddesses   Awesome Queer Strapon Porn for Everyone!  See me as "Sahara" on AbbyWinters.com  Solo, Girl Girl, Amateur  • See over a dozen teachers speak about sexuality, spirituality, and the role of the Sacred Prostitute in history and today • Learn about different cultural traditions of sacred sexuality in ancient and modern times • See teachers working with individuals, couples, and groups • Learn about the historic and mythological Mary Magdelene • Hear practical advice for those called to do this work Read my review of this documentary here.  Be a responsible pervert! Me too!
 I do too!   |
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