Put Out or Pay Up

Something I’m always reading about, researching and exploring is Sex Work, and not just the idea of Sex Work (which is to say some sort of something in the sex industry, involving turning people on and getting them off), but the actual ‘doing’ of the Work.

I have a deeply held philosophy that is really very unpopular: I actually believe that everyone pays for sex in some form or fashion.  Most adults have gone through the motions of dating, and, in doing so, have purchased (at minimum) drinks, meals, entertainment, travel, personal items, etc. for the privilege of spending time with someone.  In most cases, one party is always paying for more than the other, perhaps due to cultural reasons, preferences, or general laziness, and it's usually men paying for the company of a woman. The only downside to this is that regardless of how much money a man spends on a woman in the dating arena, there is rarely the guarantee of sexual payoff.  However, when it comes to Sex Work, the exchange is always inevitable, and when something is inevitable and pre-negotiated, there are no unanswered questions or gray areas, which means less room for any confusion and disappointment all around (tragically, UNlike dating).  And, like porn, we expect to pay something for it, but when we can it find it for free, it's an extra bonus.

Now, I am a big proponent of conventional dating, I’m just not a proponent of fiscal inequality.  I love going on dates, but I just can’t stand the feeling like they are running a tab.  And maybe I am a total cynic, but I believe that guys get to a point where they either stop paying or start to resent paying if they aren’t getting their needs met in return. (Tragically, ladies, you may never know this happens because they stop calling you before they get to this place.)  Perhaps this is just my personal fear, but I believe there comes a dollar amount where I feel like I have to either put out or pay up, and I detest even the thought of this.  When it comes to my current dating life, I very rarely put out in the first three months (contrary to the dating habits of my 20’s), so I work very hard to contribute to a more reasonable financial balance until we really get to know one another.

There is, however, an exception to this rule, and that is Sex Work, or Sex(ual Satisfaction) for Cash Money. To me, the idea of being paid, not just for sex, but to fulfill and inhabit someone’s fantasies gets me crazy wet. I can’t help it.  Part of me simply craves new experiences, and the other parts of me relish turning people on and getting them off in incredibly satisfying ways.  When you are hired for Sex Work, you are hired to do a job, just like any other type of employment, and I take that wanton charge very seriously.  Although, I know I take it a bit far at times since I’d (generally) rather get hot and nasty with a partner talking dirty while stuffing hundreds in my stockings than the one that takes me to dinner and makes friendly conversation in hopes of a handjob, although, to be honest, may I have both, please?  In the same person?  That’d be ideal.

I have absolutely no problem with traditional gender roles, in fact, should I ever grow up and get married, I’m very happy to play the submissive wife role to a man or a more dominant wife role to a woman, depending on their needs, but when it comes to men, the only way I feel really comfortable being ‘kept’ is by being their absolute female fantasy.  I can’t imagine ever not working or financially contributing to my household, but I absolutely would consider it if I were with a strong alpha male that wanted a wife at home to keep the household and knew exactly what he wanted from her everyday: somedays a 1940’s vision, others a sultry vixen, or a dominatrix, or a complete linen ‘n’ lace submissive that shoves a giant dildo up his ass.  Any and all of it works for me.  Otherwise, I’m afraid, I’m just about the equal-pay-for-equal-work kind of relationship, which generally turns fewer people on, but is much more practical.

Until I find that, though, I have a lot of excellent outfits and accoutrements for these various roles, so hit me up if you know what you want and aren’t afraid to pay for it, preferably combined with detailed instructions, a plane ticket, and the promise of a proper spanking...but, then again, this is about your fantasy, isn't it?

"He asked me if I wanted to dance...I said I might take a chance...and then he kissed me..."

The last time I saw him, I shattered his heart.  We were on a secluded beach in the Caribbean when I finally confessed to him that I was in love with another woman.  It was emotional, not physical, infidelity, but it was infidelity nonetheless, and it was devastating.

A year or so later, I'm sitting in his driveway with nervous excitement.  He's invited me for dinner and to see if there are any remnants of "us" worth salvaging.  It's now or never.  I take a deep breath, grab the wine and head towards the front door.

I knock and wait.  He answers, and we are alone.  I'm anxious for him to kiss me like he used to upon meeting: wrap his arms around my waist and pull me snug against him, lean in and press his closed full mouth against mine, eyes shut, breathing me in.  Even when the kiss was over, he'd keep his eyes closed, smirking and savoring, waiting for me to kiss him again, soaking me in.  Sadly, I haven't yet earned that kind of relishment, but I still get a hug with that "do we kiss or not kiss?" moment of hesitation.  No kiss.

He's prepping the vegetables and meat for dinner, so I go ahead and crack the wine, smiling and making small talk; our tension palpable.  We briefly toast to possibility before easing back into our roles with one another, him cooking and me entertaining.  I walk around to refill his wine glass when he finally touches me; he slides his hand down my back, to my waist, pulling me to face him when he kisses me softly, then intensely.  We can't stop, we're starving for each other.  He urges me toward the sofa and pulls me on top of him, never loosening his grip.  We are gentle yet frantic with each other, mouths, hands, arms, heat, flesh, legs, devouring.  Like a drowning person desperate for air, we are for each other.

He flips me on my back, gets on his knees, yanks my jeans off and buries his face between my legs as I gasp in delight.  He pulls my panties to the side to take a good look and a few teasing licks before sliding them down my legs.  Wrapping his arms under my thighs, he presses his mouth into my pussy and lovingly devours me, repeating only how much he has missed my taste as I swell in his mouth.  He is phenomenal with his mouth (to his credit, he's done his homework with Nina Hartley), and he knows I'll cum all the harder when he slides two fingers deep inside to coax it out of me, slowly...steadily...then just barely faster.  He's a tease, coaxing me, lapping at me till I'm just at the brink, pleading, begging him not to stop when he'll retract his tongue, his warm mouth still enveloping me as I throb and scream for him not to stop!  He smiles at my frustration and urgency, suddenly thrusting his fingers deeper inside me and making his tongue wide against my swollen, throbbing clit, making circles around my whole pussy till I explode in his mouth.  As I am still shuddering, he stands over me, dipping his tightly swollen cock in my mouth 3, 4 times to get it good and wet then stuffs it inside my pussy, stroking slowly first, then rocking faster and faster as he gets harder and harder inside me, and I know he's gonna cum.  I beg for it all over my tits, so he swiftly pulls out and explodes all over me as I rub it around my nipples, then lick my fingers.  Out of breath, we both collapse with giant smiles on our faces. 

God, it was so good and so overdue.  There is really nothing so good as reuniting sex with someone you loved, but, then again, there is NOTHING like in-love sex.  Nothing.  Even the best sex with someone you care about is never as good as average sex with someone you love.  There are just not enough words.

I've been open-hearted enough to have been in love (and have the subsequent amazing in-love sex) at least 4 or 5 times in my life so far, and for that I am immensely grateful.  I know it's life-enhancing, possible and probable if you can open yourself up to the emotional risk.  Yes, pain and heartache are equally as possible, but how else can you fully experience being alive?  I'll take the possibility of pain for the probability of pleasure any day.  And, although my ex (from this story) and I did not stay together, I will always be grateful for our times together.  For me, it's not about forever, it's about not missing opportunities in the present.

Just a little temple worship for your Sunday...or as Chelsea Handler said this week, "Men would get a lot further if they'd slide into third base face first!"  My thoughts exactly.

JN

Go Fuck Yourself (and I Wanna Watch)!

Oh for fuck's sake. What is the deal, people???

From everything I know and have experienced, everyone I have ever asked enjoys watching (or the idea of watching) their partner pleasure themselves. Everyone! Yet, of all these people, many of them are admittedly not comfortable enough (or even willing to entertain the thought!) of rubbing one out in front of their partner! Where is the disconnect??? (and I assure you, only a handful of these participants were actually raised Catholic.)

What is with so many women a) not willing to masturbate in front of their partners or b) allegedly not having masturbated at all? In their whole life? And men, what's the hangup about not wanting to jack off in front of your partner? Someone is going to have to help me understand this unfortunate phenomenon.

I guess I'm mostly just bummed that this VERY pleasureable act is not being extended over a party of one. Help me understand. Most everybody does it, if you're a human male, you likely do it with porn and/or your "highlight reel". (spoiler alert: every man watches porn...even if he tells you he doesn't, yes, even yours, yes, even if he's very CSI about it). As a woman, I can only masturbate about partners I've actually had; I was never one who could get off thinking about Jonathan Taylor Thomas or DiCaprio or someone random when I was young, and I think, for the most part, most women are much more specific. Men can generally get turned on by a stranger and imagine fucking that stranger and that's sufficient, but I don't know many women that operate like that. It's much more personal for us. Which is why, especially for me, phone/text/cyber sex can be very fulfilling with a partner I actually know and desire. Maybe I'm oddly unique, but one of my biggest turn on's is watching a guy stroke his own cock till it cums, especially if I'm his stimulus. So. Fucking. Hot. And, yet, I have a very difficult time getting partners to do this for me! WHY??? I just do not understand.

Problem #2: how many people have run into the guys that can't have an orgasm during intercourse...? I'm hearing about this more and more (and tragically dealt with it myself). So, here's a link to an awesome article by the great Dan Savage about the "death grip" problem:
http://www.thestranger.com/seattle/SavageLove?oid=10817
Basically, he says that if you train your dick (or pussy, for that matter), to only get off in a certain position with certain pressure for years and years, you will have to work very specifically to recondition yourself. This is also why I tell women that can get themselves off with only their hands to NOT start using vibrators because they will desensitize you over time. I am jealous of women that can get themselves off without a vibrator, as I am not one of them, but I can urgently cum under the delicate coaxing of a warm mouth and soft tongue or a great cock and lots of dirty talk.

On a side note, many years ago, I went out with a guy that used to hump his pillows to masturbate. This was one of the most unique methods I had ever heard of at the time, since I thought all guys just used their hands. I remember going to his house once and accidentally tripping over this..."fuck buddy". Let's just say he was clearly not a proponent of safe sex with his pillows. It think it actually crunched when I tripped on it. Gross.

That's enough for today, but write to me more about your issues surrounding masturbation, and if you don't listen to Dan Savage's free podcasts on iTunes or read his column, I suggest you do, especially if you're as interested in and facinated by human sexuality as I am.

A smack and a kiss,
JN

Fetish, Fantasy or just Preference?

First things first. Everyone needs to listen to this link; it's just 3 minutes and explains the differences between Fantasy and Fetish. (and, no, I don't like Oprah, I just love Dr. Laura Berman)

www.oprah.com/oprahradio/Fantasy-vs-Fetish-Audio

What I'm going to dissect, though, is far more of the gray areas in between. I hate to even call it a Fantasy or a Fetish, I'd rather call them Preferences. Most of what I have encountered/experienced/studied, is more of a Preference: not something required to get aroused or reach orgasm, but something desired to make sex hotter some of the time/most of the time/occasionally/ideally.

Everyone talks about "Fetishes" but mostly incorrectly. Foot fetishes, hand fetishes, choking, biting, beating, spanking, flogging, golden showers, anal play/penitration, cock rings, piercings, stockings, heels, lingerie, white cotton socks and panties, cross-dressing, sex outdoors, sex in public, sex in uniform, and the other ten thousand turn-ons people have are mostly just Fantasies or Preferences. The real difference between a Fetish and a Fantasy is whether or not the person MUST have the object or scenario in order to actually reach orgasm. At that point, the point of necessary, it becomes a Fetish that can isolate and impersonate your partner. Sex becomes about the need, not about the interpersonal experience. And while there is ALWAYS going to be something in your partner's Preference/Fantasy category that makes you squirm (if they trust you enough to tell you), it can be an awesome opportunity for intimacy if you allow yourself.

Lately, I know of a few people that have taken Preference and feared it into Fetish, only to realize that they are afraid of what it could become, not what it actually is. For example, a reader described her partner's Preference for being dressed as a woman when they have sex. He's not gay or closeted; he's simply very aroused by the nurturing, welcoming, feminine penchants of womanhood. Now, he doesn't need to be dressed up in order for sex with her to be marvelous, he would just like to incorporate it every so often, and if she's uncomfortable with it, then he'll gladly take care of his own needs when she's not around. She would prefer that this Preference of his simply not exist, but even more so, she'd prefer that he feel serious shame about this desire, too. The biggest problem has been that she's gotten to where she's almost afraid to talk about it with him because she hopes that by ignoring it, maybe it will go away, fade into the past and not be part of their future together. Maybe he'll just forget that he was ever turned on by that in the first place! Bollocks. By not addressing it, openly, in the daylight and with acceptance (even while afraid and uncomfortable), she's slowly shutting the door on the trust they've built; she's showing her partner that it's not safe to talk to her about his deepest desires and fantasies. She's showing him that she doesn't trust his boundaries, his ability to make it safe, keep it personal, keep it honest. And that's why there's a shame spiral... If you cannot safely talk about absolutely anything with your partner AND trust their reaction and willingness to hear you, then that's probably a good place to begin the work.

As we've discussed before, opening up about your Fantasies is all about trust. Everyone can talk about the "socially acceptable" Preferences, it's when you get into the sticky and the dark that you stir up your own opportunities for growth in your discomfort, together with your partner and on your own. Not that everyone is going to pop open the wine and delve into the darkness right away, but when you do, or when your partner trusts you enough to open up, I encourage you to resist the urge to gasp or snort or make that disgusted, horrified expression and instead, just listen and ask honest questions. Don't shame your partner for their desires, embrace them for trusting you, and if their desires cause you fear or spark your insecurities, just be aware that that's coming from inside you, not inside them. And...most importantly, just because they are talking about what turns them on, that doesn't necessarily mean that they're going to jump off the deep end or open some giant Pandora's box of wild and crazy shit. If their desires start eating you up inside, seek third-party help if you want to maintain the relationship. The worst thing you can do is try to change your partner (or shove them back into the "perfect mate" mold you had previously bound and gagged them in). You can only change yourself and manage your reactions; please don't punish your partner for triggering your own insecurities.

Take a deep breath. Connection is why we're here; achingly trusting, open, possibility-for-judgement-and-likelihood-of-pain, real breathing-bleeding connection is what gives life meaning. It's our only real reason for existence, it IS the meaning of life, but it cannot occur without sincerity and trust and that takes extreme courage. I encourage you to grab your balls and open up to possibility...no one regrets taking the leap of faith, they just regret having waited so long to jump.

I'm curious to hear about your conversations and what bubbles up...

With a bite and a smack,

JN

(As always, send me your questions at: north.jillian@gmail.com with "JN Blog" in the title, and I'll reply personally and/or incorporate your questions into the anonymous discussions.)

"But...what if my Dark Chocolate is your Vanilla?" (Prelude)

First of all, Dear Readers, thank you so very much for all your feedback. I welcome it, relish it and take it to heart. If only you are entertained, I am happy, but it's all the more fulfilling when I can address things you are experiencing and actually care about.

The nice thing about being the sexually open and adventurous single friend is that all my friends--married, LTRs, live-ins, gay--come to me to talk about their sexual concerns and curiousities, so I can honestly say, you are not alone, no matter how outlandish or allegedly dull you think your sex issues are. Many others are dealing (or not dealing) with the same issues.

Recently, I have been hearing some, "Oh, but my sex life is pretty boring...being married and all" or "I've only had a couple partners, so I'm not that interesting..." I want to be extra clear, while the haphazard and sometimes random sex that I can detail for your entertainment is certainly entertaining, it's not the majority of what's going on out there. What's going on are your real lives: sleeping in the same bed and (hopefully) having sex with the same person night after night and wondering if other people are having any of the same kinds of conversations or issues you are. I am here to assure you, they absolutely are. Unfortunately, many of them are not talking about them, though, some are just hoping they go away if ignored... These connections with your partner, if you allow them, can be incredible opportunities for you both to stretch and grow yourselves, both individually and together. Sadly, though, when not properly addressed, they can be extremely isolating and just perpetuate the shame spirals, driving you further apart.

Recently, two issues have been coming up more and more: cheating and fetishes. For now, I'm going to address fetishes, but both are loaded and intense topics that I could write on over and over again. Cheating is a very gray topic that we'll save for (I'm sure) many posts down the road. Feel free to start sending me questions now...

As for fetishes, therein lies my title and alluding to your so-called "boring" sex lives. While I may have had the sporadic dark chocolate moments (which make for great storytelling), most of my sex life falls somewhere between vanilla and a whipped pistachio (for color). Some of you have partners that are pushing your comfort zones into the dark chocolate each and every time, and this is where so much of the fear comes from.

In my previous post, I touched on the revelation of true intimacy which stems from a man opening up about his sexual shame, and it's from this shame that fetishes and unique desires have bubbled up to become the various-sized monsters they are.

(onto Fetishes: Chapter One)

The Art of Closing the Deal

I'm in sales. Obviously. And regardless of what or where you sell, the reason we are in sales is because of how it feels to win the deal. The extreme giddy high we get as we leave the customer with our contracts signed and order ready is our EVERYTHING. The possibility that we could get a nibble of that high is what gets us out of bed. You can sell a great product or complete shit, but all that matters is that you believe in it enough to convince a stranger. It's the Pilgrim's Progress of negotiation: you begin with their perception, power through the reality, holding onto your patience, all while gaining their trust. Once we gain their trust, the rest of the deal falls into place. It is absolutely a delicate dance of teasing, foreplay and a steady hand. With that consistent and steady stimulation, we encourage them to let go, relinquish control and let us takeover from here. We then coax them into the close with a lusty urgency. A little push, a little pull and a rush towards the finish. We sales people are in it for the win. The magnificent, euphoric, engulfing, orgasmic rush of the win.

I feel the same way about blow jobs.

(I'm sure I could/will feel the same way about cunnilingus, but I'm not quite as skilled at that yet.)

Giving impeccable head is all about getting the win: the excruciatingly explosive, hard-reset, you-don't-give-a-fuck-if-the-world-combusts-this-instant-type of orgasm. Luring them, urging them, drawing out every drop of energy as they hurdle up the hill, towards the finish line, pummeling towards the point of no return. Going down on someone as only a kind of intermission, or worse, duty, reminds me of chores and subsequent procrastination. Don't even bother. Seriously. Don't. It's not sexy.

Due to the unfortunate anatomical circumstances of my last long-term partner, he did not particularly enjoy my face below his waist for prolonged periods of time. This is like telling a pastry chef she is suddenly violently allergic to sugar! Oh, he'd let me get in a few strokes, maybe a lick or two, but no long-term stroke-lick-suck rhythm. This is the tragic result of sexual shame, and I find so many men just get their's all over me.

It is terribly unfortunate and downright sad that men have been told by any female or partner that their desires are wrong or dirty, and as such, have shoved them in their proverbial locked box under the bed, only to pop out when their amiable loving partner least expects it. Poor girl is usually so terrified that both partners run away screaming. It only takes one frightened response for men to believe that what they want in bed will scare off the good girls (read: potential mates). So, they then consciously or unconsciously, learn to save that stuff for the fuckable rather than the dateable. More often than not, men believe they must sacrifice their most raunchy desires in order to keep the peace with their precious Madonna. I get more calls/emails/texts from women who are completely shocked by what their husband/partner is now "suddenly" into and what should they "do" about it? I assure you, ladies, this is not something new, but at the most base level, it is a very deep gesture of trust. When a man opens his sexual shame pantry, he is choosing to expose himself to your potential rejection. Please, "do" tread lightly. If they trust you with this, they trust you with their guts.

But I digress...back to the lost art, and appreciation of, fellatio.

So, in addition to the internal issues interfering with fulfilling men's desires, there are always external issues. You cannot properly suck a dick if there is not a proper dick to be sucked (see previous post). And today, I am just so happy that I finally got to make mad sloppy face love to a proper man dick. Thank GOD. I can go without intercourse, if I must, but I am formally opposing not properly using the big juicy mouth God gave me anymore. The next day, I practically bounced out of bed, savoring the events from the night before. I longingly licked and lovingly sucked every last thick drop of juice from that yummy cock. I lightly grazed my fingernails across his balls, up the insides of his thighs, up and down the shaft...lingering, sweet pauses to enjoy every throb of desire swelling in my mouth. There is no better satisfaction than making a man come so hard, so fervently by your own doing. Proper fellatio, for me, is infinitely more wholly satisfying than ordinary intercourse. I get to do the work, the negotiation: navigating their fears and perception, the slow buildup past reality, pushing through my patience, then eagerly rushing towards the finish for the win. An authentic win-win situation.

All in a day's work...

JN