Phone Sex Slut Blog: These Are The Boobies In My Neighborhood

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January 06, 2005

These Are The Boobies In My Neighborhood

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It probably will come as no surprise to anyone that has read my blog for any length of time that I am a “breast girl.” I’ve known this for a long time. If I had been born to this earth in the male form, I’d be a “breast man.” It’s not that I don’t like legs or tight little bums or the curve of a hip, arch of a back, nape of a neck, or the sublimely pointed toe. I like all those things just fine. But I have an achingly tender attraction to female breasts. I like looking at them. I like thinking about sucking on them and committing other assorted perversions upon them. They’re just fucking yummy.

Previously I did an entry on the cock-worshipping whore part of myself. Many of my male readers found this to not be their favorite entry (more likely they didn’t appreciate the visuals) which I find amusing, but understandable. Although it is a social double standard that doesn’t make sense given the history of our species. Let’s face it, male homosexuality was far more standard than female homosexuality historically. So, why is it that I can look at breasts all day and find them alternately tuggable, suckable, and spankable with a sense of girlish glee? Why don’t I have the knee-jerk “ew, but that’s another GIRL” reaction society so trains us to have? I simply don’t remember ever having that feeling (barring the first time I ever saw a lesbian porn video, and that sense of aversion I’ve since maintained because most “lesbian” porn is so badly done, pathetically unrealistic, and entirely un-sexy).

THE BOOBIES IN MY HARD DRIVE NEIGHBORHOOD
(Click to enlarge)

Thus the breast entry. There are A LOT of breasts on my hard drive. A LOT of them. So many that I decided, upon doing this entry to put together a little collage of sorts. The above image is a mere scattering – a bare glimpse of the mad teacup party of breasts that are on my hard drive. But these give you an idea about my flavors. I was happy with myself to find a variety. While the breasts I like are overwhelmingly anglo, there are also a healthy representation of Latin and Asian breasts. Shockingly I don’t have many black woman represented on my hard drive and I’m not sure why this is. To be honest I think that it is just hard finding the type of “pretty porn” I like of black models. The porn industry tends to hone in on the “ghetto princess” angle of porn when they present African-American girls and that’s just not what appeals to me. I’m not pointing any fingers, I’m just saying I get excited looking at vintage-style playboy-esque shots, not booty-call stripperella nasty nitty gritty stuff and the proliferation of black models is on the opposite side of the platform than my train arrives upon. I know that does the job for a lot of guys and I’m not knocking it. I just don’t get it by and large. But then I’m much more the aural and not the visual expert.

I don’t think there is a single pair of implants among my pretties. And although they run the spectrum from puffy to flat, from tiny to rubenesque, the overall theme seems to be natural. Although I do like them when they hang pretty and have large dark bumpy areolas. I’m sure there’s some Freudian reason that eludes me, but looking at the ones I save for my personal pleasure, it’s hard to argue with the evidence. Speaking of evidence, I missed TWO on THIS QUIZ but that’s because I’m convinced the answers are incorrect. But, see how you do. Incidentally, if anyone can identify #12 it’s making me crazy. I know these:

Can You Name These Breasts?

It’s not easy to gather a collection like this anymore unless you are a serious porn surfer. These days if you do any kind of Googling to find breast sizes/shapes of any sort (other than coming up with a disturbingly highly ranked number of sites on gynecomastia) you’ll likely get a smothering of turn-key porn portals that don’t yield anything even remotely pleasurable to your kink. This is a great annoyance in the porn industry although I suspect there are those who feel I am as guilty as the next. Everyone has their level of what draws the line between fun and classless. The line between bawdy fun girl and outright whore, etc. It’s the lines between burlesque performer and showgirl and stripper. Most of us have a general sense of the line in the same place, but there are those who are far from the norm on both sides.

This is where the porn industry is its own worst enemy. Most porn industry pros are all about more money by any means necessary instead of focusing on being in touch with the market. And that’s when all the trouble starts. Most people think porn is fun, but greed and the tactics it employs will suck the fun out of anything. This current circle-jerk of fucking over legitimate search engine results to spew your sites all over the top spots is just…well, silly and self defeating. If I’m looking for puffy breasts and all I find in the top twenty pages of Google is the same turnkey piece of shit site, that isn’t serving the market. And, instead of tricking me into joining your site all you’re going to do is make damn sure I never join your site or anything related to your company name, ever. It’s the same error that spammers make. Misspelling CIALI$ might get you through my spam filter, but do you REALLY think that means I’d ever consider buying it? If I can’t sign into Google and find “puffy breasts” when I want to, there’s just something wrong with the system. And when there’s something wrong like that, money is almost always at the center of it.

Or maybe I’m just jaded.

It is this semi-exhaustion with the porn industry that has me scaling back from my customary phone slut schedule and slinking off to tinker with other projects and allow my attention to be drawn elsewhere. Which brings me to the pink elephant in the living room.

Those who keep track will note that my schedule is now “by appointment only” and they will react with, I’m sure, a mixture of smugness, interest, and/or indifference to the fact. It goes against all slut logic to do this. I’m first and foremost a beck-and-call-girl after all. How dare I make such an elitist gesture?

Well, the truth is, I need to. Sex workers have a shelf-life. I was told this when I came to the business and it became clearer and clearer as time passed. It became stunningly real to me when Sus turned in her boots (although the sneaky little minx has teased us by showing back up at her new PORN HAPPY PROJECT site. Do the world a favor and chunk out a donation to her cause. We fucking miss her and if she’s only going to come back to promote her books we want to make sure she keeps fucking doing it – umm kay?

There is a fact to face: I don’t want to be the all-out crazy phone whore anymore. It’s like growing up in driving distance of South Beach; there comes a time when your hardcore clubbing days are just behind you. It doesn’t mean you’ll never dress up in slutty clothes again and go party, it just means it will be the exception rather than the rule.

The irony, of course, is that I am not tired of phone sex. I’m still every bit the addict I always have been and, I’m convinced, always will be. I still fucking love phone sex. But I’m tired of doing phone sex that isn’t *ME*. There was a time I didn’t mind donning a vicious dominatrix persona and spinning tales about raping slaves with my spike-heeled boots and making them drink from bowls of water they’d just washed my feet in. There was a time that drawing the kink out of a reluctant john was just part of the gig. But my patience has been peeled to its limit. I don’t want to drag the fucking fantasy out of men who don’t know how to ask for what they crave. And I don’t want to continue to play the part of a dominant bitch when what really excites me is the perverse taboo of Daddy’s girl and non-consent and submissiveness.

It’s trickiest with the submissive callers, really. I don’t want to do hardcore dom, but I don’t mind sensual dom. But, like with spammers and porn greed, that line is drawn different for everyone.

Taking calls by appointment only means I can get a feel for what a client wants before they call. A man who is shy on the phone generally isn’t in email. It gives me a comfort zone. I don’t have to have those ungodly uncomfortable farces of “what do you like?” / “oh…uh…everything.” I would imagine it is the one aspect where prostitutes have it better than phone sluts. If a guy wants to fuck you a certain way all he has to do is SHOW YOU. There isn’t this square dance of hemming and hawing.

There are those of you out there reading this who have the biggest prick of a boss that are thinking “oh boo hoo – poor Doxy has to cajole men into talking about sex – how hard can that possibly be?”

I know. I know. I know I have the best job in the whole fucking world for me. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy. So I’m moving into a new phase of my profession. Sure, it makes me a little nervous, but I think I need to put together a little distance so that I can miss it. Maybe I’m a wimp with no right to complain because I get to do what I love and I should just shut up and lump it. But we all make choices to make our lives more pleasurable and sometimes those are hard calls and/or risks. Maybe this is one of those. Maybe it’ll piss off my clients to have to make an appointment and I’ll have to return to schedules and woo and whimper and take some spankings for being a bad girl.

Or maybe this ends up best of all worlds. It could happen. The truth is, I’ll always love being a phone slut. I’ll never “burn out” on that. But I’m done with wankers and bozos. I’ve put in my time with the dregs. There are too many quality, respectful clients out there to put up with the grind anymore. I’ve earned the reprieve. And while it makes the work-ethic in me flinch, that’s just part of tailoring your job to fit you when you’ve earned the right to do so.

I’ve garnered a client list of kind, respectful fellows who might want to rape my ass while I’m bound and gagged in a fantasy, but they’re my kind of perverts and they draw their lines similarly to the way I draw mine. And that works. For now.

Let’s see…what else goes on? The SpankBlog Rules are getting a lot of coverage on the “sex blog” circuit. It’s not really a bunch of rules, but good advice from anyone looking to add adult themed blogging to their lives. It amuses me to no end that when I started doing this there were no other phone sluts to speak of blogging and I got tons of hate mail about “giving away industry secrets.” Now every little slut that puts up a site links to a live journal or some other blog access. Unfortunately I break most of Spank Boss’ kind advice, but I’m just ornery that way. Frankly it bewilders me as to why I still have any readership to speak of considering how long I go between updates. Incidentally, his is a great spanking site. It gets a little too rough for my kink needs, but it’s yummy 9 times out of ten.

And just to end on a funny, here’s some perverse car pleasure:

The Pussy Bug

I think he should have a sign on front saying “please don’t lick the hood” because she does look good enough to eat doesn’t she?

Well, stick a fork in this entry. Suddenly I want to go have a nice little fantasy about being a bad girl with a spanking red bottom.

Love,