Sabrina in Stockings smartass switch sex worker

I had sex with you this morning, and you didn’t even know it.

I was recording it so you could hear… it was pretty hot, but Audioblogger ate it, and now I know exactly what robot sex must sound like. It’s too unintelligible to be funny or I’d post it for you anyway.

I was lying on my side. My hand reached around and behind to trace the line of my ass all the way down until I felt wet silk folds and I pressed my knuckles against my clit and came hard until my pink thong was soaked and there was a lot of good stuff in between (in between what, I’ll leave up to you) that you’ll get to hear soon, I promise.

I’ll try again tomorrow. My pussy’s on regularly scheduled feedings.

This blog isn’t as hot or interesting as it’s going to be in a few days by far and I finally figured out why. If you’re a girl, you’re told all your life to fear “leading people on” because it invites rape. Now I know full well that isn’t true and being chaste and virtuous (ha) is no protection, just as being a sexual powerhouse is no invitation. There is no invitation; you either have consent or you don’t (even consent for roleplayed nonconsent). If you’re not sure, you don’t have consent.

Easy, right?

The problem is that so many people actually believe that rape myth that even knowing it’s a load of crap, I’m having a hard time writing like I write in private.

This is kind of funny since riding the bus through the ghettos of Boston at 1 a.m. when I was 16 was much riskier, but I didn’t think twice about that. I knew those guys and they were a bunch of mellow, heavily armed Jamaicans who really liked to play dominos in the park. Also I was a better shot than about half of them…

So how am I going to get past this shyness and inhibition and write (and video, and phone) like I do when it’s not out there in public with my face?

I was thinking about it this morning and the answer’s actually pretty simple. I’m a phone sex operator. It’s the Diet Coke of sex work, but I already have no dignity in a lot of people’s eyes. I intend to go further (and want to - very badly). The stuff I write on the sidelines is much hotter than what’s been going in here and that’s embarrassing to me as a pervert. If I’m not turning you on, I’m not doing my job.

There. I said it.

Consider this past week foreplay, because it was just getting me warmed up. My goal is to make this blog an orgy of decadence and perversion, and I’m going to make that glaringly obvious by this weekend.