When they're so good at touching you

But so annoying to listen to

Another kink event and another cancellation. I found myself on route to a tender little party on Saturday when my plus one messaged to say she couldn't make it anymore. As I wound my way along the roads to the venue I drove past an ex flames house. In that moment, with the prospect of 5 hours to play in a dungeon, I considered sending a message and passing the ticket along.

As my memory recalls this ex had a miraculous way of making me orgasm. Slow, oh so bloody slow and oh so very yummy. There was never any need for our clothes come off, I never even touched his genitals the few months we were together, instead what would unfold were blissful hours of edging and passionate kissing until finally my arousal would be so high even a whisper would would make my pussy ripple with glee.

If the chat becomes a one sided monologue where none of my responses are listened to and zero questions asked then you can be sure I'm tapping out.

The downside to this lover was the nonstop chat. Now don’t get my wrong, I love a good convo and I'm a remarkably good listener - years of journalism and interviewing people combined with playing therapist to friends and family makes me deeply confident in this skill - but if the chat becomes a one sided monologue where none of my responses are listened to and I’m asked zero questions then you can be sure I'm tapping out.

There's been multiple partners in my life who, when I’ve been horny and tempted to contact them, have me weighing up the pros of an orgasm versus the cons of having to put up with their chit chat and feel the diabolical draining effect of their company. If only I could put them on mute… It’s often made me think of all the wonderful sex workers I’ve interviewed and met throughout the years who will explain their job is 70% listening (therapy) and 30% sex. I experienced this first hand when I attracted a client last year who wanted me to peg him and then pee on him.

It was the only in-person paid sex work I’ve ever done and to be honest, I really enjoyed myself. I realised how good I was at curating a kinky play session tailored specifically to the multiple desires of a person. I enjoyed the open and articulate conversation about what he wanted and what I was able to offer. We shared our boundaries and limits and then stepped peacefully into a scene. I payed attention to the pet names and honorifics that appealed to him. I placed him in his desired positions of servitude, surrender and little baby coddling. I indeed pegged and peed on him. I nurtured him during aftercare and I helped him step into so many of his fantasies with joy, liberation and emotional support that I couldn’t have asked for a better session.

But the reality was that out of the four hours he paid me for, most of that time was spent with him chatting and me listening as he unravelled the complex history of his sexual fantasies and interactions. He opened up about his attraction to men and the risky escapades he’d been on when pursuing a quick blow job from strangers round the back of a deserted building. He talked about his previous experiences paying for BDSM and his desires to be photographed in his feminine energy (something which he also payed me to do which was also very special and sassy). He spent hours telling me about a screenplay he’d written of some kinked up romance between two couples who turned out to be blood relatives. He spent the entirety of dinner talking about the erotic writing he had shared online tailored specifically to his fantasies about skat-play*. He spent hours talking and I spent hours listening, and when I said goodbye I couldn’t wait to be in silence.

My energy was sucked dry that day by my clients nonstop verbal diarrhoea. And that’s exactly the way I felt with my ex whose miracle work on my body wasn’t enough to silence the sound of his voice. And so I’m left to sacrifice the pegging and the pussy pulsations because my peace of mind means more than the touch of a climax. I’m yet to find another client whose company I enjoy (though shout out to Gary who used to pay me for sassy selfies - he had very good chat) and I’m yet to find a lover whose train of thought is as tantalising as their touch. I’m on the hunt so watch out - sassy lesbian summer here I come!

Run through these questions and let me know what you think?

How do you manage being around people who drain you?

What ways do you protect yourself and your energy?

Are you a listener or a chitchatter?

Let me know in the comments honeys - I read every one and I LOVE hearing your opinions and perspectives.

Sent with sassy love

Bx

*a sexual fetish people have where they enjoy coming into contact with feces. Also known as Coprophilia.

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