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Author: camerynmoore

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FUCKBUCKET FRIDAY: “Is there anything sex-related that remains a mystery to you?”

Good lord, yes. Here are but a few of the things that remain mysteries. I don’t need to “solve” them, per se; I feel fine with leaving them in the realm of “other people like them” or “not important why.” I am also fine with discussing them and trying to understand them better. But they are still very much open questions in my book:

  • Why do I like to age-play? It’s not something I always had, but once it clicked, it resonated hard.
  • What are humiliation and degradation about? Like, why do some people like receiving that?
  • Why do I currently experience no desire for anyone but my partner, when I used to just, you know, desire all over the place?
  • Why do some people not like kissing?
  • Really, though, what is squirt? (I say this as someone who first experienced squirting eight years ago, and intermittently since then, and it's great and all, but WHAT IS IT.)
  • What is “chemistry,” from a strictly biochemical point of view? It’s some parts pheremones and brain juice and… what is this even?
  • What is the difference between stingy impact and thuddy impact, and why do I and other people who are impact-play bottoms have preferences for one or the other, or perhaps both at different times?
  • Why do so many cis-het dudes think that sending dick pics is an appropriate first move?
  • Why do so many cis-het dudes think that stroking their dicks at women in a sex club is an appropriate first move?
  • Cis-het dudes generally leading with their dicks: why?
  • Why did my “switch” seemingly flip at the age of 32 and I just stopped being interested in women sexually? I’m open to the possibility that I may swing around again, but honestly, that switch was pretty abrupt and sometimes I still look back, 15 years later, and wonder WTF.
  • How can some kinksters be utterly satisfied with a non-sexual scene involving their kink? (E.g. spankos just getting spanked, but no other touch and no orgasm involved.)

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FROM THE FUCKBUCKET: “how has indulging other people’s fantasies changed your own tastes?”

I won’t say that I have absorbed anything dramatically new to my own pleasure/fantasy/sex/kink palate. (I assume you’re talking about my years in phone work; Sidewalk Smut is very much the same kind of work.) I’m a little more curious about men in feminine clothing, from talking to a couple of phone clients about what they really liked about cross-dressing, but that’s curiosity, not taste or desire.

I think I’ve probably gotten better at articulating what I want, just saying the damn thing, whatever it is. That has to happen in phone sex; whatever’s going on and however you’re feeling, you have to say it, or at least let out some very convincing groans, or else your partner isn’t going to know that you you're doing anything. But that is really about using my words, which is an excellent transferable skill and not a new deposit into my sexual imagination.

Truth is, indulging other people’s fantasies for a living has never added anything significant to my wank bank. I pick up what people want for long enough to create an experience, spoken or written, that they want, and then I set it aside when I’m done. I’ve got enough going on in my head, I don’t need to store everyone else’s shit.

The same has NOT been true when I indulge my partners’ fantasies. If I am playing with someone not for pay, but because I really like/love them and find being with them a fun time and trust them not to be dickheads, then yes, over time I have picked up a few new fantasies/role plays/activities for my repertoire.

Mostly they have been things on the rougher or more violent side of the spectrum—things like wrestling hard, or hand-on-throat play, or consensual non-consent--where if they came from someone with whom I have no foundation of trust, I would be all, “Gah, no, what?”

Makes sense: these sorts of things require time and exposure and repeated reassurance, in both word and deed, in order for me to feel safe. Someone blathering about them on the phone line just makes me roll my eyes. I have no way of knowing that they know what they’re talking about; mostly, they sounded like they didn’t. With people I trusted, I could explore the extremes and still feel safe.

More than anything else, though, the biggest shift in my sexual life that came about from working with people’s fantasies for pay was in my head, about myself. I learned to judge others less, and learned to judge myself less, too.

In both of these lines of work—phone sex and Sidewalk Smut—I had to keep my non-judgmental face on at all times, even if I was judging them hard. I had to act like it was all good, and that act had to be pretty air-tight, because people can tell when you’re judging them.

And the thing about faking it ‘til you make it? Eventually you do make it. I believe it; it happened. My body was keeping the non-judge-y muscles going, and eventually that sank into my consciousness and I increasingly found myself not judging. I never stopped judging people's level of douche-baggery, but as far as sex and kink went, I learned to say "right on, not my thing, but cool" and really believe it.

It was not inevitable that I turn that kind of radical acceptance around on my own life; most people are harder on themselves than they are on other people. I certainly don’t remember sitting down and consciously thinking about giving myself more room to explore and not judging myself for my fantasies. But that’s what happened.

I am a lot less weird about my own “weird,” which is a much more comfortable place to be.

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SMUT STAND REPORT: Perth, Australia (Feb 9, 2018)

WHEN: 4 hours (8:30pm-12:30am), Feb 9, 2018. WHERE: Pleasure Garden (Russell Square), Fringe World, Perth. OUTPUT: five full-length pieces, including an awkward first-date piece, a bit of (M-on-F) pussy-eating in a garden shed, and some gritty girl-on-girl action in a shower.

The first commission I got last night was for a guy who was clearly trying to get in the pants of this woman, a friend of a friend whom he had met no more than two hours prior. When the guy saw the stand he ran over like a puppy who just spotted a tennis ball. Except creepier. When he brought the woman over and I started talking with them, and they revealed that they had not yet slept together, I considered calling a halt to the process, because the woman was… less enthusiastic than he was. She liked him, she seemed into him, but wasn’t as excited about the concept of sex, sex, sex at that moment. I asked her a couple of times did she want this, and she shrugged and smiled and said sure, so I went ahead with the interview. The guy wanted it harder core, but I delivered at her level, with a couple layers of swimsuits and something gentle in the sunset. You shouldn't ask for literary butt sex on the first date, dude.

From here on out, I am going to refine and raise my standards for mutual consent, in the case of first dates: they both have to be gagging for it. Anything less than both parties trying to get in each other’s pants at the same time is a no-go.

The next four commissions were MUCH more to my taste, especially the gentleman who ordered a piece for his wife. They have been married 30 YEARS. And their wedding anniversary is on VALENTINE’S DAY. The fact that such a blatant romantic would choose Sidewalk Smut for a present on such an occasion feels like an honor.

Also of note were my final two pieces of the night, both for lesbian couples (not a double date, they were separated by about half an hour). For one couple, they were just so happy that I didn’t assume they weren’t a couple that they were already bouncing with excitement. Clearly I was the right sidewalk pornographer for them!

And both pairs did that thing that I love with couples when I’m explaining the process: they held onto each other’s hands and kinda kept swaying and bumping into each other like, we’re gonna do this, aren’t we, we totally have to do this, omg, but I kinda want to take you behind that storage container right now. Like, they were already clearly in love and in lust, and my presence and the whole process just set the whole chain of pheremones off all over again.

One of the women in one of those couples was a little tipsy, but also very in love. It’s hard to tell between tipsy and love when both are happening at the same time. “That’s us,” she said, over and over again, gazing at her partner after I read their piece out loud to them. “That’s us.”

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