“I touch naked people appropriately for money.
I touch naked people inappropriately for fun.”


It is all about touch. I am a junkie. The physical connection to other human beings is such a rush! The more skin, the better. My life revolves around it, so I think about it a lot.

At work, touch is my most important tool. It is the only way I have to communicate with many, and each touch is a connection to far more than any of them can tell me anyway.

“The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed.” – Carl Jung

“When two bodies touch, both are merged.” – Me

I can feel their fear, sadness, pain, and anger. My breathing quickens. My muscles tense. I don’t like it. I take a deep breath. I clear my mind. I focus on their skin. My breathing slows. Their breathing slows. I run my hands over their muscles. My muscles relax.

I chat with them throughout whether they can talk back, or even hear me, or not. The personality I become with each is different. Sometimes it is different each time with the same one. I never really know in advance what role I will be playing.

I often joke that I do improv for a living. You should hear my bedpan humor. I often make people giggle so hard they pee, and the same old jokes are usually new each time. Sometimes I play the sassy wench fending off one liners as well as hands or I am a young girl, perhaps 20, and a roommate at college. I am the one nagging lovingly, or a mother figure cradling the biggest man or tiniest woman, as frail as as newborns in so many ways, in my arms. I might spontaneously burst into some corny old song, with or without a dance. I might have to chase off a bear, or feed imaginary dogs some of the invisible Milkbones I carry with me. I might have to convince someone that it is really better not to break my arm or try to kill me. It’s always different. Or always the same.

I keep working. I keep touching their skin. I feel better. So do they. They also feel less pain. Funny, so do I. In addition to the smiles, hugs, kisses, and thank yous so many give me, I often get a physical rush of oxytocin. It is strongest with the ones that can’t communicate any other way. Sometimes, as I feel the love flowing through both bodies, I wonder which initiated it.

It doesn’t matter though. For that moment, my work is done. As safe, clean, comfortable, and happy as I can make each, I know it is temporary. I have another role to play elsewhere though, and I move on to the next holding on to that feeling of love. I will share it through my next touch.

The more you give, the more you get back.

Away from work when I don’t have to worry about being inappropriate, I can touch with more of my skin, my mouth and my tongue. They can touch all of me back. The connection and shared feelings are so much stronger. The roles I play with each come from deeper within. The chemical rushes are so much more intense and last longer. And both, or all, are transformed even if only for a little while.

There can never be enough.

I will always need more.

Touch me.

Sinful SundaySee who else is being sinful with me this week.

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