Sunday, August 31, 2014

Waking Moments

Pillow Soft

Like a lot of you guys, I often wake up feeling "in the mood."  It's part of the reason that I like to be around in the mornings on weekends.  Not a late sleeper, I find myself getting up early whether or not I have stuff to do and no matter what day it is, but when it comes to the weekends (like today - a sleepy Sunday) it's not unlikely that I will drink coffee and get back into bed for a little bit.

I don't know what it's like to be a guy (duh), but I can tell you as a girl who wakes up feeling the urge often, your bed never feels more comfortable than it does when you're just about to rise from it.  And weekends (or rainy days) are the perfect excuse to stay in bed just a little bit longer than usual.

The pillow gets fluffed up and your head just sinks back into it.  Your hand naturally gravitates to your pillow-soft breasts - they just love being touched and lightly squeezed in the morning.  Preferably you're waking up being spooned and fondled by a huge pair of man-hands, but in the absence of such a luxury, getting in touch with yourself is a not-so-bad alternative.  Tee hee.

What a Girl Wants

Well, as luck would have it, as I was writing this post, I had my dreams fulfilled.  It kind of makes me wonder about the power that this blog might hold in making my dreams come true - hmmmmm.

A very good (and sexy) friend who appeared just as I was writing this just happened to mention how he'd love to stay in bed a little longer this morning.  And another thing he expressed which I was just about to expound upon in this post, was his desire to spoon my body and fondle my breasts.  O-M-Goodness!

This girl got exactly what she wanted (sans the catnap - although that's still a possibility).  Not only did I get exactly what I wanted, with a person who is always in-sync with me, but I think he got what he was looking for as well.  I believe so; he said so.  Quite honestly, every time we're together it's just sweet serendipity.  (Yeah, you know who you are - chuckles.)

Well, time is moving on so I'll save the nap for after - like when I actually get something beside blog posting accomplished.  More packing - then a 2pm date with the guy that owns the local convenience store.  He promised me a hook up with some free newspapers for packing.  (Yeah, nothing is "free;" we all know that, and I have a good idea that newspapers aren't all he's packing.)  Tee hee.

Maybe after some packing and napping I'll feel the need to sign back on.  Drop me a note on NF if  you'd like to join me later.


Saturday, August 30, 2014

Party at the Retirement Community

Labor Day Festivities

While most of you will be spending this weekend away or having parties with friends and neighbors in the pool celebrating the last unofficial day of summer, I'll be at my family's annual Labor Day barbeque at my Aunt's house.

If you think I'm attending a party where all will be meek and mild, think again.  Those retirees are wild and out of control.

Aside from the NY and NJ chapters of the Ashley Kink family, my aunt and uncle also invite their local cronies.  My uncle's poker pals, the local single gals from "The Club" and various and sundry neighbors all of whom drink, eat and gossip with abandon - every day, all day.

If you ever wondered why the people living in those retirement communities seem to end their Saturday evenings a few hours after the early bird special, it's because they've been partying since the wee hours of the morning while the rest of us are getting ready for work.  And I don't think they stop 'til they drop, literally.

No one in my family drinks much, yet each of us has a bottle to bring to the party as instructed by my aunt and uncle.  Why?  Because those retirees, who are probably on a fistful of meds already, love to drink and let loose.  They get loud and silly and flirt with each other and it's a crazy scene to watch and an even crazier scene to be a part of.

The last time I partied with the geriatric set, I went home holding my stomach.  It hurt so much from continually laughing so hard.  The 70-and-older set were lined up and leaning on my cousin's kitchen island and we drank 3/4 of a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue - in successive shots.  Yes shots.  These people don't play around - they are serious about their partying.

You thought your party days were over after college or high school?  Personally, if I've got to get old, I want to get old enough to be so carefree as to show up at anyone's house armed with "party favors" and having my only worry be whether or not I should have brought the second bottle.  Of course I'll have to acquire a taste for daily partying, something I've never been able to handle, but think about it - you can hop in your golf cart and roll over to your neighbor's house and act a complete fool and the worse that will happen is people will say, "Aw ... she's cool; she knows how to party."  LOL

Well I guess I'm off to have some fun.  I'll be sure to fill you in on any dirty old men that happen to brush their hands across my ass or wiggle past me while I'm forced to lean my back against the counter with their faces in my tits - I speak only from experience; I kid you not. 

Friday, August 29, 2014

The Bon Vivant and the Bon-Bons

What a Gloriously Sweet Life it is

I just had a call that reminded me of a subject I wanted to cover a while back.  For whatever reason, it got put on the back-burner, but thankfully this particular call jolted it back into my brain (via my throat).

I'm sure that many guys, and girls for that matter, think that the life of a PSO is a marathon of lazy, luxurious fun, laying around all day engaging various orifices in various forms of play, touch, tickle and tease.  And for the record - they would be wrong.  Yes, I'm playing when I'm playing, but I'm not lying around in a teddy waiting for the next fuck to come along.  I actually do things in my off-call times (like this blog post).

Although I enjoy bringing pleasure to people's lives through adult conversation (I've met some really smart people and some accomplished writers on here to mention a few) (because we all know that the brain is my favorite body part), I also enjoy acting.  Playing parts through role play is always fun, especially if it's a subject I'm interested in as well, and being the seductive siren is always fun (see my post from yesterday), but one thing I'm definitely not doing is lying around eating Bon-Bons in between calls.

I really hate being judged - especially when I never judge anyone else no matter what their particular fetish or proclivity.  If I don't like it; I don't do it, but I don't judge anyone.  If anything I'll just sweetly tell callers like that that I don't want to waste their money or time and let them go off to find what they're looking for.

There's a Method to This Madness

Today someone called.  Meek and mild at first, he was just stroking his cock and I offered to take over and let him relax and enjoy.  As we advanced to the next level ... I could hear what I intuitively hear almost every time I'm on a call - the real desire.  I'm really good at tapping into people's fantasies and voice intonations and I do my best to make those desires come to life, but then this call took a dirty turn - it got personal.

Apparently, I'm a "dirty phone sex whore who does nothing all day but lay around and take money from men."  And apparently, that's also ALL I'm good at.  Really?  You've known me for five minutes and you managed to come up with that in-depth, yet severely misinformed calculation?  You must be a genius!

It continued for a minute or so more while I waited for him to become equally as in-tune and pick up on the fact that I wasn't really feeling the personal attack.  Finally it wound up in a thumb wrestle between me and my phone's "end" button - I won.  Yes, I hung up on him.  Gasp!

I'm not here to hang up on people, in fact, that is the very opposite reason for my being here.

I really hate hanging up on people.  I even told him by email the reason I hung up and offered to start over again, since in the beginning everything was going so well (until it took a sharp left, crash and burn drop-off turn into hell).  And I really hate that I let it get to me, but I think I was an adult about it.  I gave him an out and I even gave him a way back in.

While I'm writing this post, he's probably penning some scathing feedback.  Which would also mean that his hard-on is now deflated because he's too busy giving this "dirty phone sex whore" a bad name.  Does a name get any worse than "dirty phone sex whore?"  I think not.

What he failed to tell me was that he probably packs dog food in cans by hand for a living or shovels horseshit into 40-foot trailers all day - but it's probably best, because then I'd have something to judge him about.  He had the unfair advantage - he assumed he knew what I did for a "living."  My NF friends know that this is not my only endeavor.  Too bad Mr. Dirty didn't stop to think about that.  Too bad all he wanted to do was make me feel bad.  He did neither - he just pissed me off.

I just wanted to clear the record, in case he happened to find my 4x4 "Read My Blog" banner.  And I wanted to clear my name.  I may be a fun-loving, no-strings kind of girl, but I'm no "dirty phone sex whore."  Oh, did I mention that I called him a "dirty phone sex caller" in return - yes I did.  Another move not great for business, but I doubt that he'll be reporting me to the BBB.

Friday nights have never been good for me on NF, but since I'm funding a move, I've tried to add more time into my schedule.  I should have listened to my numerology report that told me that anything done in the pursuit of making money this year was going to be a crap shoot, which, ironically, is also where my lovely caller put his cock right before he put it in my mouth (eewww) - I don't do that.  Just goes to show you that when you compromise your standards, all bets are off.

It's a shame.  And it's a shame that men and women aren't held to the same "Slut Standard."  There are though, thank goodness, some men out there though who understand that girls just wanna have fun like they do.  It can be sweet and romantic, or witty and engaging, it can even be downright dirty, but it should always be fun and it should never become a character assassination.

I know that there are girls on here that get into that and plenty of guys that can provide it - no judgment, it's just not me.  Nowhere on my listings does it say, "I want you to make me feel like crap please."  (I actually saw that on a listing once.)

Cest la vie.  The phone is quiet, as I suspected on this holiday weekend.  Guess I'll hit the freezer and crack open a new container of Bon-Bons and call it a night.  Yeah right.

Actually, it is slow, so I'm signing off.  But I'll be around later maybe.  If you want me, you can always email me - I'm pretty sure I'll be checking it later.

And this is probably a really good time to let all of my regulars and all of the special people I get to meet each day are people I consider friends.  No matter how kinky we get, we're all just here for a good time.

Thursday, August 28, 2014

Say My Name, Say My Name

Communication with Words Can be Hot - Even for a PSO

On NF, occasionally I get an opportunity to "take the wheel and drive," as they say.  Not in a dominant sense, but in a sound-restricted sense - as in, "My girl is in the next room.  I can't really say anything, is that okay?" 

Don't gasp in horror thinking I'm outing anyone here, more than a few of you guys tell me the same thing.  Of course, I can't help myself, I usually reply with, "What?" even when I've heard your whispered query loud and clear.  It makes me giggle when I hear your breath stutter as if you really don't want to have to repeat yourself - and since I'm not in a sound-restricted area, I often do giggle.  I'm not a total brat, I usually interject before you have to repeat it.  I'm just getting in the mode of being the pilot - it's my first step in taking control (something I don't usually do).

It's perfectly fine with me, I get to seduce and suggest - I'm cool with being seductive.  I actually kind of like having that kind of power sometimes.  And it's a challenge to keep you entertained on a consistent basis - one I think I handle wonderfully if I do say so myself.  Anyway, it's hot.  Especially when the only sound I can make out is your breathing - deep, slow, guttural, faster, shorter, and then, my validation, the "Big Sigh."  It makes me smile.  I must admit, I've always been good at voices, but lately being able to intuitively feel what's going on on your end of the phone just by the sound of your breath is becoming a real gift.  It's a good gift to have; I'm grateful.

Having to be Quiet - The Sounds of Silence
The whole idea of being quiet during sex is a challenge, that is if it's the kind that's good enough to make you scream.  I remember when I was in high school and I snuck my first boyfriend into my room late one night.  My parents were in the room next to us and when I think of their ability to hear a pin drop, I often wonder how I ever got away with it.  But the exciting part was the chance that we might be caught.  It was a turn on then for me - but now, some 14 years later ... not so much (eeewww I can't even think about doing that again.  But it was certainly hot then.  We were both 18, he was my first real full-time, 3-year boyfriend and we couldn't keep our hot little hands off of each other.

And then of course you're trying even harder than usual to make your partner moan.  You do things to them that you know drive them completely bonkers and you amp it up even more.  Then that makes you (me) giggle, which is even harder to suppress than a moan - well sometimes anyway.

When you're 18, you have to be silent so you don't wake up the family or the family dog; when you're a little older, you're usually worried about being caught by your kid or your roommate - or both (I have neither); and as I've learned through NF, when you're older, you're usually trying to keep quiet so your GF or SO (significant other) doesn't hear you.  Whatever the reason, whatever the age, it's a hot scenario when you think you might get caught.  It's exciting and it makes the blood rush to your head (and other places as well).

The intensity is electric, the climax is hotter - it's just damn good silent sex all the way around.

Got a situation?  Can't talk?  I'm your girl.  As long as you can email or whisper, your next tsunami is just a phone call away.  Call me. :)

Thursday, August 21, 2014

Stress-Induced Sleep

The Best Night's Sleep You'll Ever Have

Upon waking up this morning I received an "Ugggg" email - that's what he said, not what I said.  The "Ugggg" was an expression of frustration at me not being on this morning at 8 o'clock as my schedule promised.   I had to apologize, but told him it was sheer exhaustion that kept me in bed.

As a matter of fact it was that same exhaustion that made me sign on and quickly sign off last night.  And really my day started out so well - in fact, the week itself was going so well.

I checked my email several times last night, and since no one seemed to be missing me, I thought I'd go to bed and catch up on some sleep.  What I didn't count on was being so wired that I couldn't sleep.  I tossed and turned for hours until I wanted to pull my hair out.  And yes, I think having my hair pulled (not too roughly) is hot, but tugging on your own hair ... kinda' different sensation.

I finally relented (albeit a little late) to take a "PM" pill and it worked it's magic quickly.  But since it was so late, all I could do this morning was open my eyes at the time I'd usually wake up just to close them again for "five minutes" and finding out that five minutes was actually and hour and a half later.  Wow - how did that happen?

Well, what is it that they say, "You can never go back"?  So I guess I can't go back and re-do Wednesday night or wake up earlier this morning ... but I can move forward.  (Truthfully, we all know I move forward, backwards and sometimes side-to-side, tee-hee.)

So stop by and visit me tonight.  I will be here.  :) Thanks.

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

It's Hard ...

to Keep a Schedule When Life Keeps Getting in the Way ...

Oh ... you thought I was gonna say something else, didn't you? 

Well the reason I mention it being so hard ... is that really I just had to adjust my schedule.

Life is about choices ... I may choose to be a NF girl, but I really don't choose to tell many people my business, so when "stuff" comes up, it's really HARD for me to make plausible excuses.

But you know what ... even though it's been a stressful couple of weeks with work and non-work stuff, I have to say the upside of that is that my orgasms are much stronger, deeper and much more appreciated (by me ... and hopefully you).

I just updated my schedule for the week (back to that life thingy), so be sure to click on my Schedule button and find out when you can find me here.  I love a good game of hide and seek - it's still thrills me to get caught!

Friday, August 1, 2014

Dating Naked?

What's Next?  NF TV?

So, I've heard from a few of you lately (thanks for the emails).  Unfortunately, a lot of them were complaints.  What!?

No, I didn't get complaints about my phone sex or even my hours this time - this time it was complaints about my non-blogging of late.  It's true, I admit it.  (Well, no need to admit shit, since the blog would tell you anyway ... anyway.)

I've been in a writing frenzy actually, seems work has picked up in the freelance realm (fingers, toes and legs crossed). 

Today was certainly busy with various articles, some monthly billing and a conversation with an editor who actually gave me a compliment on my work.  By the time I stopped working (just a few minutes ago) I realized I was late signing on to NF (no shocker there).  It hardly matters though.  I'm not even sure why I booked myself to be on - Friday nights are always slow.  But I'll be signed off in time to go play with my friends.  All this working from home has me desperate for a drink and some face-to-face conversation.  Who knows, I might even get tempted to reach out and touch someone.

[I just realized that my desk chair has somehow lowered itself to its lowest point - maybe someone was playing with it.  I've been sitting at my desk all day wondering why I was so uncomfortable and why my neck was starting to hurt - duh.  There that's better.]

Anyway after I quite work (and then signed on to NF), I turned on the TV so I could veg on the couch for a few minutes and catch my breath.  (Here's the part about dating naked ....)

So VH1 has this show, "Naked Dating" or maybe it was "Dating Naked" - I'm more interested in the concept of the show than the name. 

When I first caught a glimpse of another reality show, "Naked and Afraid," where people venture out into the Amazon jungle naked - well, I really thought that reality TV had finally become desperate for ideas.  I mean - ewww - who would go into a jungle naked?!  Bugs and snakes and reptiles around my nakedness, no thank you.   Red ants?!  Could you just imagine.

"Dating Naked," (or whatever it's called) though was more of a realistic concept - as far as being naked on television goes.  I mean people who date usually get naked at some point, if its going well.  At least I find that a far more viable storyline than being naked in the Amazon.  And yes, people get naked when they're dating, they just don't usually do it before the date - that's where this show had me. 

Can you imagine naked zip lining - in tandem?  Well it happened on this show.  Not only that, but the couple on the date were from my area - the guy was from NJ (bulky good looking guy who left his brains and manners at the gym in Jersey) and a girl from Queens, NY (a place I also know a lot about) who was a total trash-mouth who also had a BA as I call it - a bad attitude.  Needless to say, they didn't hit it off.  But ... the girl was in the front of the zip line and as they came up on the platform, no one bothered to apply the brakes and the girl's face got smashed on a pole.  She had a huge, huge, huge black eye - which (I probably don't have to tell you) made her attitude much, much, much worse.

I think the funniest part though was at the end of the show when they all see if they want to pair off and try to actually date in real life and out of Mr. Hotty from NJ, another Mr. Hotty from Illinois (you know me and Midwest boys), the cute blonde that everyone wanted picked the scrawny geek guy from Los Angeles.  She picked brains over body - on a naked show!  Granted, if there was a body part that won her over, they had it blurred out, so I may be wrong, but I think I'm right.  She even said that it was his taking her aside and telling her that the other two would break her heart, but he never would - aaawwwwww.  

It just goes to show you that my theory holds true:  The brain is the sexiest part of the body.  If you have imagination, smarts, a sense of humor and wit - whatever ... you have a better chance of getting the girl (this girl and the blonde girl on VH1) than some bulked up muscle head with tattoos.  Just thought you'd like to know that.

Well NF was, as I suspected, slow.  So that means more time for me to figure out what I'm wearing.  Probably a shimmery shirt in case I get too happy and spill a martini on myself.  Can't wait to have one (a martini I mean, not a spill).  I don't drink a lot or often, but I have been known to cry over spilled vodka. 

Check out my schedule page to see when you can come and play with me.  :)  Ciao for now.

xxo Ashley