Going independent isn't all it's cracked up to be. I finally caught up on all the comments from the last 2 weeks. Some of you suggested I get my own office space, and I agree that wouldn't be a bad idea. The problem is money.
You see, since leaving The Business I went from several appointments and walk-ins a week to just a handful. I do get more per session now, but back at The Business, I was seeing way more customers. My sessions now aren't as ala carte as they used to be. My Regulars just kinda offer me a fixed amount with a vague agreement of what I will or won't do. So basically I'm pretty broke, and being broke does not help in establishing clear and strict boundaries. I'm not proud of this.
For example, I had a session last week that I think bumped me up to your freshman year girlfriend. It was one of my more loyal Regulars, so I'm more relaxed and trusting around this customer than most. Well, he wanted a thigh release. For you newbies out there, a thigh release is where I clamp my legs together and the guy slides his cock between my thighs. It's pretty much as close to fucking as you can get.
Well, I haven't done that in a while, but I agreed. I obviously forgot why I stopped. You see, he wanted to do it missionary style which meant his naked body on top of mine. Now during a standard happy ending, I can detach myself from the handjob. Only my hand is in contact with the customer, and the motions are pretty mechanical to the point where I can mentally balance my checkbook at the same time I'm bringing a guy to orgasm. But a missionary style thigh release is pretty much all the nasty, dirty and sweaty bits of fucking without the actual penetration.
I felt his body on top of mine. I felt the thrusts and could see the look on his face. I could feel his heavy breaths on my face. And when he finally came, I was expecting him to simulate cumming inside me by just thrusting down and staying there so the semen goes between my legs and into the sheets. But instead, he pulled out and jerked himself off all over my stomach. Then he collapsed on top of me - just like a high-school boyfriend. So there we were in a sticky, sweaty heap on his bed. It was so bad I asked to use his shower which I never do.
And this led to the most guilt I've felt in a while. I mean I was pretty much just inches away from full service. And for me it was all the sensations and consequence of actual fucking. I felt guilty and dirty about what happened. I felt the closest I've ever felt to cheating on Derek - and that says a lot considering what I do for a living.
CJ