i’m always amazed at how my little problems turn around once i actually verbalize something that has been eating at me…
my overall mood is much improved since i last posted… i’ve also had three sessions and i have 5 more scheduled through the end of the coming weekend. i can’t say that i’m dreading a single one of them.
looks like i might be, in the immortal words of Steven Tyler, back in the saddle again.
i never think about the rent until it comes due. sometimes i don’t even think about it then. more often than not, i lose track of the date until my landlord phones me with a “friendly reminder” that payment is expected and a “please tell me what time today i can hope to see you.” after that call, i start to think about the rent… i start thinking about the fact that i don’t have it… i start thinking that i need to think about turning another trick…
when i began working as a paid companion, Scott didn’t like the idea at all. our relationship was very new, though, and i wasn’t willing to depend on anyone else for my support, but i was at the end of my willingness to continue working as a dancer in so-called “gentlemen’s clubs.” there’s more to the story, but that’s for another time. the point–for this telling–is that we came to an understanding that i would earn my living as an “escort” and that i would always pay my own way.
in those early days, i felt as though i could physically and emotionally “handle” the demands of up to 15 or 20 visits a week. as it turns out, i never have carried a schedule of that volume… Scott wasn’t ready for that in the beginning and i eventually became complacent about my “work load.”
i used to spend much, if not most, of my “free time” scheming up marketing ideas and brilliantly subtle self-promotions… anything to drive men to my bed, mad with desire.
these days, i actually work very little; i think about my marketing strategy even less. in fact, the only time i really think about it at all is when my home phone rings–only my landlord uses that number.
that “friendly reminder” sends me first to my email, to tend the inbox that i’ve neglected for days in hopes that there will be a “when is your soonest availability” from someone (hopefully pleasant and “easy”) i’ve seen in the past. more often than not, i’ve got something working by the time i’ve processed the new mail, tossing out a few promising invitations in the meantime. whatever i do get working, i push for meeting as late in the day as possible–prolonging the unavoidable. usually, a bit of time with the email will cover the rent within 24 hours or so.
sometimes i phone the landlord: “i can’t make it to the bank today… will tomorrow be okay”? sometimes i make the landlord call me: “i was looking for you… what happened”?
dread pushes down on me until i feel as though my entire soul has been spread out upon the bare earth and baked in the sun as the time for the next session approaches. no matter how many hours i put before the agreed time, however, they fly past in jerking fits of motion until the time before is gone and the session is suddenly at hand.
unlike in the early days, Scott has now come to “comfortable” grips with how i earn my money. he doesn’t understand why i am so irritable leading up to a session. i can’t blame him for the confusion… once my tricks have been turned my mood is as light and bright as a ray from the sun through a cloudless sky…
after the rent is paid, i almost immediately spend whatever money i have left… a few dollars in the gas tank, a couple packs of smokes, a few groceries and sodas, a little chocolate, a trip to the bookstore… whatever i can afford. running out of any of these essentials has the same effect on me as that “friendly reminder” from my landlord and the process begins again.
i’m writing tonight because i was having trouble sleeping… i’m not worried about the rent–my landlord has been satisfied… but, my cupboard is bare, i’m a little hungry. when i wake up, the process will begin again. i guess that’s a good enough reason to not sleep.
i have, as Scott often reminds me, an unlimited potential to earn… i’m not reaching anything near my potential… i’m not really sure that i care anymore.
as you probably know, Scott and i have really turned our relationship around for the better lately and that i think that’s a great thing. so you’re probably wondering why i am publishing this particular outburst when life is so good for me. the answer is that the past 36 hours or so have been fucking lousy, and i can’t post about our current issues due to the fact that the last week of april i gave up my life-long habit of writing purely negative content by letting negative situations find resolution before i start writing. so far, i’ve not written a single personal rant, so i feel like i’m succeeding with my intention, but really feel like venting right about now.
i am posting this draft now because, although the situation at the time i wrote this entry is as different from the past 36 or so hours as it could be… the emotion, however, seems just about identical. i know what you’re thinking… i’m thinking it, too, lets just try and pretend that my justification makes sense, okay? please?
Scott won’t have sex with me. he says that i don’t do anything to show that i want to have sex. i’ve been asking him for it for days, but he just says that he doesn’t believe that i want it.
now i have a shitty attitude because i have a trick coming in about an hour. i DON’T want to fuck a fucking trick! i want to fuck my boyfriend.
today, i had about a thousand things (other than fuck Scott) that i wanted and/or needed to do… some of those things were left over from yesterday because Scott and i were fighting and i wasn’t able to do them. i didn’t get to any of those things today, because soon after we woke up, Scott sat down next to where i was working on the computer and typed asstr.org into the address bar of my browser then went to the search form and set up search parameters for me to follow. i was told to search “prostitute” and/or “hooker” and find a story that turned me on. so i dutifully searched for about an hour. i searched until i thought my eyes would bleed and my head would explode. i didn’t find squat that turned me on. every damn thing i tried to read just pissed me the fuck off because i just want to fuck Scott. eventually, i saved a few shitty stories to a flash drive to present to Scott. assignment completed.
not quite. he wanted to know what about each of the stories i found sexy. well, not a damn thing in any of them was marginally sexy. do you know why? because i wanted to fuck Scott; i didn’t want to read about some hooker fucking for money.
back to the drawing board.
i started the search again. after a few minutes, Scott turned the television to face me and began playing a video that he had downloaded. a mother fucking “brutal dildo” feature with some tiny girl shoving an enormous rubber cock into every available orafice. did it get me hot? not hardly, but what the hell… fake it until you make it, right? i stripped and grabbed a new vibrator that Scott bought for me, worked up some spit and went to work on myself, hoping that i could get worked up enough to get laid. when he realized what i was doing, he said i was selfish for keeping it all to myself, so i joined him on the sofa, thinking i would be getting laid soon.
when i didn’t get the result i was hoping for, i asked for it. i really thought i might get lucky when he told me to get on my knees and lean over the arm of the sofa.
he didn’t fuck me. he just took over where i left off with another sex toy! when i had had all i could stand, he let me rest. i was completely unsatisfied and asked for his cock yet again. i still haven’t satisfied his desire to see me turned on, so i still haven’t had any dick.
i am infuriated, enraged and damn pissed off!! i’ve been that way all day. i’ve done none of the other things i wanted and/or needed to do because i am afraid he will see me not looking at porn or erotica and continue to not fuck me.
now i’ve got a fucking trick on the way and i sure as hell don’t want to fuck him. i know Scott will be pissed if i fuck this trick tonight. i want to cancel. i want to quit being a fucking whore. i want to fuck my fucking boyfriend!!!
Scott says that we can have a lot of fun living an all-sex-and-sexy lifestyle, but how the fuck is that going to happen if he won’t touch me with his dick?!
(i know this is a crappy post, but i’m pissed and just want some sympathy. please apply generously.)