When fantasy is all that gets you through

There are nights that are just... tough.
It's still hard sometimes to find something that attracts me enough to a client to let me get into it. That's when my mind is my best, best friend. Certain things just squick me too much.
I close my eyes and picture someone attractive. The who, and the gender aren't important. When I rub my nipples, it's them. I picture multiple partners licking my neck, the back of my knees, my clit. I arch my back and pretend that I can feel the penetration deep, even if the current endowment leaves something lacking. I reach down and while I rub their balls I brush my ass.
I bite my tongue and moan. Never names. That's too easy to mess up. Unless someone really wants to hear something I stick to general words. I pant and build myself up- I've found the more I pretend the more worked up I can get.
I call myself a slut. I think that for me it's one of the hottest things to hear, even mentally, during sex.
And when I cum I smile, because I know it wasn't for him. It was for me.

Well

I've gotten more comments since I've been gone then when I was here regularly. I'm flattered, guys.
I'm going to answer some of them... because I can. And you took the effort to write.
"Wow, somebody that is proud of being a sex worker, yet at the same time, ashamed of it. What a clash of the titans. It becomes even more obvious, when you blog about it, as a venting platform, and give out many details about the actual lifestyle, yet you hide behind the anonymity so as to further expose your shame of yourself. It's obvious that you are not in control of the "work" you do, rathet that it is in control of you. Meaning, when you say you are not dependant on a man, in reality, instead of being dependant on one entity, you have become not only dependant, but at the same time addicted to this "industry", in the fact that you don't possibly see yourself "retiring" anytime soon. That sounds pretty dependant to me.May Allah guide you. "
I don't really think that I'm ashamed of what I do. My family may not know all the details, but they do realize that I earn my living in the adult industry. Many of my friends know. I can look myself in the mirror still... and to me that's the biggest thing. I can look at my child and not be ashamed. It's not something I'd shout from the rooftops, and I do lie about it. It's more the reaction from others then the way that I feel, though.
In some ways, I guess that I'm not fully in control of this. Could I support myself this well in another job with my education and the hours I'm willing to put in? No. I know that I can't. It's a large reason why I'm where I am. Many days I like what I do. I enjoy the pace and the drama, even. I keep it out of my personal life so having it in my professional life is fine.

"how very thoughtful and well spoken. sorry about your parents.no matter what people think, though, real shame comes from not making ends meet."
I wish that they could accept what I do. And be happy that I make the money that I do. I don't think it'll ever happen, though. And I do agree- I think that is one thing that'd make me ashamed- not being able to support myself.

"do you ever dream about having a little warm home with some guy you love? I don't really thkink how you can after reading this entry.. please rethink your way of life... "
At this point in my life I don't dream about that, really. I'm still young enough that there is plenty of time for that down the road if I ever feel drawn to it. I do rethink my way of life. Constantly. Every time so far I've come to the conclusion that this where I belong.

That's enough questions for now. Although I will say that Stephanie (ex-millennial girl) has been good about asking how I am- so here- I'm good. Life is up, life is down, and frequently just a swirl.

A Taste of Halima

What the hell happened over at Strip City?
I miss Mic's blog. I liked reading about his side of the industry- I love (usually) the DJs and it sounds like he was a good on.
Now the site is a bunch of softcore stuff & it sounds like a different person is writing.
Anyone care to clear this up for me?

Oh, I'm glad alright

Being in sex work isn't the be all end all to most people's problems. If you treat the life right, though, it can really be good. I live a lifestyle that otherwise I would have no way to support. I can give myself and my daughter the best of what we want & need. The women I still talk to from high school who are single don't match that. Hell, most of the married ones don't.
I'm saving (and will continue to do so) enough that I should retire in the next 10 years or so. I can then go on and go to college and do something else... or not. It's wonderful that I will be in that position.
I don't know that at this point I'd even be suited to some 9-5 desk job. In reality I work maybe 20 hours a week and make more in that week then that desk job could provide.
Not to say that it's always easy- I don't know if I could really escort more then that a week. I think that too many women go into this not knowing what it entails and not having enough personal strength to not be ripped emotionally to shreds. It's not an easy thing to do. Our society has placed such a stigma on strippers, escorts, and porn people. We usually lie about what we do. My parents know, although we don't talk about it. They are so disappointed and I think they like to imagine that I'm a waitress like I told my grandma. I send them money, periodically, and they never take it. I guess knowing that I earn the way I do ruins it for them.
I like that I'm not dependant on a man. I know that I still depend on men for income, but I don't have all my hopes in one place. I've thought about seeing just one man before- more of the sugar daddy kind of thing then the whore thing. It doesn't appeal to me. I like the freedom of cutting ties with a guy with no repercussions. I like that there is always another out there.
When I got into this I had no idea. I was naive. I was a teenager. Barely legal, baby dancer- I promoted it and used it. It also struck me really hard after a few months- that I really was doing this- that I really lived this way. I became a mother before I had a car and I started stripping right after my 18th birthday. I thought I knew everything. Don't most people at 18? I made the further jump to escorting not too long after that.
Now that I have some years of experience I've changed the way that I think about all of this. I am careful to keep it sperate from my 'real' life with my child and my friends. I don't want the two to touch.
That's also why I don't expect to have a website and do internet work. It feels more permanent. Once you are out there it's around for all time... even after retirement. I want to be able to make a break eventually.
In the mean time, I have some good sex, some great friends... and stories I'll never forget. I've either seen it or been asked for it- whatever it is.

Quality is in the details

I've been thinking about what divides good sex from bad sex. Or even just average sex. I think it's more in the small, sometimes really small, details. Someone can be attractive- my type even, have great length and girth, and still leave me unsatisfied. And I've had enough sex to be able to salvage nearly any experience.
There are certain things that keep me from coming, no matter how hard/ fast/ slow/ soft/ long/ short the sex is.
1)Bad breath. My god- this is a bad one. Especially if he's on top and breathes through his mouth. It's disgusting having hot, rancid air blown down on you. When this happens it's all I can think about. If he's not paying, I recomend a mint.
2) Having not recently showered. Stinky, sweaty balls. Gag me. I've (nearly) solved this by showering with most clients before or at least keeping baby wipes handy. Guys- if you are going to go see a woman- keep yourself CLEAN.
3) Bad rhythm. Also, nonexistant rhythm. Stop & start & stop.... I can't concentrate. I usually see if they are receptive towards me being on top since people who can't keep a steady motion are bad from behind, as well.
4) Sweatiness. I know, I know everyone sweats. If you drip on me though, I'm not feeling so hot. It's gross.
5) Lying about experience level. I don't like being told that you know everything about everything because you've watched porn. Good for you- I'm not porn star. Some of those things are just not gonna happen.
Sorry.
Not.

Why is it that complaining is more fun then the alternative?
Maybe next time I'll go over favorite things. Sex is kind of an infinite topic.

Is it March, already?

Where does time go? For a while I was so good about updating- and it was fun. And it was stress relief. Then I stopped and I miss it.
So.
What's new, what's different?
Nothing, really. Faces change but the stories are the same. I feel like just looking at someone I could tell where they've been and who they've been. When it comes down to it it's mainly semantics.
We all live so similarly.
Sure, I pay my bills by shaking my ass and whatnot and you may work in an office- but we both have bills. And responsibilities.
It's all the same.
Regardless, I'm back.

A Taste of Halima

There are times that I'm just not feeling it. I think I'm sexiest (and therefore better) at work when I'm feeling hot and ready to screw myself.
When I'm not I notice things at work I usually don't. The way that many of the men that I've enjoyed dancing for really are kind of sad. That it isn't my conversation that holds them in. Mostly that even though the faces change the stories and motives don't. Work in the sex industry long enough and you will hear once in a life time stories at least weekly.
I'm hard to shock. I shouldn't be jaded already.