Some days are just easier than others. Some days are glorious, in fact, and others rotten. Today definitely tilted toward the rotten side.

I’m in Chicago, visiting, arrived a few days before my conference, which starts tomorrow, so I could see a few clients, and pay for my trip. What a bust. I’ve had more cancellations and maybe’s than I ever care to deal with. But whatever. I still have a few days after the conference to catch up. We’ll see.

This morning, a retired judge arrives for a massage. Things go fine over coffee, getting acquainted – that’s what we say, getting acquainted, but it’s actually making sure the vibe is safe – and for that matter most of the massage goes fine, until he want to get more active.

Let me back up. I love giving sensual massages, I do. I love the feel of flesh in my hands, I love getting naked or nearly so and using my arms, shoulders, back, breasts, to touch his and play, I love the way my body responds and gently fuels the fire, I love the way I teach them to relax so they can actually enjoy it more, the way it opens them up, I love surprising them with lying down on their back and whispering in their ears what a beautiful man they are, how beautiful is their sexuality, how worthy they are to receive this pleasure, all the things that you sure as hell don’t hear when you are learning to be sexual. I love how I feel the energy as it shifts when they go up a notch in their arousal, especially when they get close to the top. It’s really quite distinct and very clear. And fun. Really fun. Sometimes it’s hot, sometimes it’s tender. Sometimes it’s a damn lot of work too.

So today, I enjoyed the chemistry, thought, oh, I’d enjoy fucking this person right now. That’s be nice! But not a choice I’m going to make today. That was not our agreement. In fact it was very specifically spoken that it was not an option.

So he gets up, rolls over, wants to hold me, play with me – he’d clearly go there! Well, that’s an assumption of mine. It appears that he would go there. I move his hands and my legs and say – as much as I would enjoy playing more with you, I am going to stick to our agreement. He’s ok with that, does not seem unduly disappointed, but also just barely slows down. Eventually he comes in my hand (as expected), quite beautifully actually – I love that part too.

So why am I grumpy about it? Often, in this work, I feel very respected and appreciated. In fact, I’m experienced enough that that is what I fully expect. But occasionally, I don’t feel it. I am way too old to be wanking people off for no reason. Yeah, I know, I said that any reason is good enough – what the hell kind of reason should a person need to wank, for chrissake? (you can tell I’m really grumpy when I go using dumb language like that.)

But what is missing? Heart. When a person brings his heart I am very generous. With the heart comes a simple connection with the person underneath the skin. Connection need not be forever, or even deep, or certainly not inclusive of our full lives. But it does need to be there. With it comes a recognition - his recognition - of my own full personhood. I am more than a pair of hands and tits. And with that recognition comes respect and appreciation.

At home, most of my clients and students are longer term, are there for some depth and we have that. If we didn’t, they would not last long with me. But out here in the world of hotels, it’s more of a pot-luck. Sometimes it’s there – the man I told you about whose wife had cancer and was going on the cruise, for example – and sometimes it’s not. Yuch. Maybe I’m about done with the traveling thing.

This entry was posted on Thursday, September 20th, 2007 at 6:33 pm and is filed under Sessions. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.