I am the most serious sex worker ever. 

Which is also why I spent a solid 20 minutes playing “Catch the Dildo!” on cam with myself the other day. 

You only need to look at the outtakes of mine and Zelda’s porn to confirm this mentality. Or hell, even the videos themselves - they'll be up soon. 

I used to want to be an actress as a kid. I loved the limelight, the fame, the idea of slipping into another persons shoes. But then I cracked up each time I said my lines and couldn’t understand why everyone was taking everything so goddam seriously. 

I was reflecting on my porn the other day and it seemed like a natural progression from that desire as a young child. I’ve been planning some intense scenes - not quite scripting them, I believe in letting everything flow naturally - but contemplating and picking outfits. Then, designing scenarios that I’m to be fucked in. I’ve got a wealth of costumes sitting here, begging to be used, and the sheer variety of sex toys I have lends themselves to a bunch of creative scenarios. 

My problem is that I can’t stop having so much fun all the goddamn fucking time. 

I have choked on water as someone pushed my head into a toilet bowl, my sides contracting with laughter. I have screamed out in pain and agony as someone hits my bare ass, but the screams quickly dim as a hysterical giggle breaks free from my mouth - thanks, endorphins. I have been mid sex and accidentally stabbed someone with a heel (sidenote: I’ve learned to remove shoes before we get down to business now) and cracked up laughing on top of them. I’ve quoted terrible memes and indulged in inside jokes between us - and while the thrusting doesn’t stop, both of our bodies are trembling from laughter, not from orgasms. 

But serious sex work. Yes. Sex is only about moans and gasps and erotic faces and I live in a fantasy where I only drip sultry words into your ear, and everything is sexy all the time. Even before I’ve had my morning coffee. I am arousal incarnate and nothing is ever funny. 

Please don’t book me if you don’t believe in laughing during sex. 

Recently my orgasms have changed. Still earth shattering, thank god - except for when my vibrator dies mid-cum (which, RUDE, by the way). You’ll notice I often curl up afterwards and I have the most ridiculous high pitched giggles for a good five seconds, which anything can easily set off again and leave me a mess on the floor. I have a giant smile on my face and I look ridiculous, quite frankly, but my skin glows and I’m clearly just very, very happy. 

But sex is serious. No laughter allowed. I’m doing it wrong. 

The point of this is - I will laugh when I’m with you. I’ll nerd out over shared interests (Black Books marathon, anyone?) and hell, I might even show off a dorky dance or two. I find humour in what you say and who we are together and our post-coital snuggles aren’t going to be silent with my eyes batting at you and my lips pursed together and my makeup and hair perfectly in place. They’re going to have jokes, they’re going to involve me giggling with you, and I’m going to look ridiculous - and that’s okay. 

Sex work doesn’t have to be serious. Sex itself, doesn’t need to be serious. As your muscles contract and finally let loose in orgasm, let your soul loosen too. Lighten up. Laugh a bit. Have some fun. 

And definitely catch me on cam for my next game of “Catch a Dildo”. It’s beautifully ridiculous and I love every part of it.