Sometimes a picture says it all. I enjoy writing these blog entries for you because I like offering you some insight into my life. Little sprinkles of who I am, what I like, how I think. The photos I post here help. They provide you the chance to see me in different poses and each of those poses represent a variance in my moods and thoughts. But sometimes there’s a picture that says more than I can say with just words, like this picture. It’s times like this that I think it’s a lot more fun to know what you’re thinking.

What do you see when you look at this photograph? I know enough about psychology to know that we see what we want to see. If you’re drawn to this picture, you’re drawn to it because you love the idea of having a sexy, powerful woman take control. You feel it all the way down to your cock. It makes you weak in the knees just thinking about me claiming your cock as mine!

It’s the idea of surrender that draws you in. And that’s what I want to know more about. The idea of your surrender, the idea of you being completely under my spell, makes me incredibly horny. So this week, I want to turn the tables. You know enough about me. Now it’s time I learned more about you…about what brought you here, what makes you hard, what makes you cum. So call me and talk to me. Share with me your secrets, the ones you never tell anyone. Tell me your fantasies and divulge your kinkiest thoughts. Give it all up to me. Tell me everything.

You see, once I learn all about you, you’ll be completely mine. Once you confess your innermost secrets to me, you’ll be powerless to escape my hold on your cock. You won’t be able to stop thinking about me. You’ll dream about me at night. Your cock will be under my command and I promise you, you’ll love every second of it

So let’s get to know each other better. It’s only fair; you’ve been reading all about me. Isn’t it time I learned more about you? After all, you have nothing to lose… except your cock.

The older I get, the more of my friends wind up getting married. I still get to see my girlfriends a lot, but it’s always when it’s girls-night-out. I don’t find myself getting invited to dinner parties or couples events. That’s the life of a single girl, and while for the most part the pros outweigh the cons, I do sometimes feel a bit lonely. At first I thought it was just a matter of my not fitting in at those types of social gatherings. I have since realized there is another reason yours truly does not get invited.  Apparently I’m perceived as a threat by married women.

A married man might be a happy man overall, but that does not mean that the excitement in his life is anywhere near what it was when he was younger. I represent that lost excitement that his wife once instilled in him when she was younger, her tits firmer, her voice more sensual sounding, her wandering hand more playful. She used to be hot for her man. He used to be hot for her. Love may be more important than lust, but lust is clearly more powerful. It is the lust that they no longer inspire that scares wives away from me.  

A few weeks ago one of the neighbors had a pool party.  It’s a couple in their 40’s. I’ve met them on the weekends when we’ve all been out jogging.  Our paths crossed when I was nearing the end of my run. The perspiration my run induced made it look like I took a shower in my clothes. We stopped momentarily to say hello. Even if I wanted to, I could not prevent my chest from heaving up and down.  The sight of my cleavage was too much for him to even try to look away.  It was the elephant in the room for a moment. We went our separate ways, but the impact those few seconds had is still being felt, in more ways than one.

I wanted to go to their pool party.  I know why she didn’t want me there.  She’s lying down at night, rubbing her man’s chest, kissing his neck, asking him if he still finds her beautiful and sexy.  Despite his assurances, she knows that she is no match for me in a bikini. She knows that if she invites me to the party, at some point I’m going to go in the water, and all eyes will be on me.  She knows that after I take a dip, my body will emerge from the water soaking wet.  She will have to relive that moment when we were jogging, with my wet tits making her husband want me more than her.

They’re having another pool party coming up in a couple of weeks. I’m friendly enough with many of the other people invited so if I were to crash, I doubt anyone would think I’m crashing. Jealous wifey will know, and that’s what I’m counting on. You see, now I’m a little hurt over being left out.  Now I want to exact a little revenge. I am going to go there. I am going to wear a bikini. I am going to enjoy her pool (that he paid for) and I am going to go under the water.  I have something much more powerful than a heaving chest planned for when I come up for air.

I was at the gym the other day.  Most of the time when I’m there I’m doing cardio. I like to run outside, but when I do it can sometimes get uncomfortable, as I garner a lot of attention in tight fitting outfits.  It’s not that I’m not used to wearing tight and/or revealing clothing (it’s kind of my norm), but when I’m out and about I’m dressed to impress. If a girl with a body like mine wears her tits in a big way, she has to be ready for the inevitable stares, smirks, and comments. It’s a way of life I’ve grown accustomed to since my mid-teen years. But when I’m working out, I don’t wear such clothing to put my body on display, I wear them for comfort and efficiency of movement.

The same way you might ask me to wear a sweet, little summer dress to make it easier for you to take me from behind; I won’t wear something that inhibits movement. If my tight body can be seen by others outside, it’s amazing how many guys are just by coincidence running at the same pace as me, just behind me or just beside me. They also seem to take breaks and start up again at the same time. I don’t need that. When I’m working out, I’m in a zone.

At the gym I don’t escape stares, but it’s limited to only the people there.  And the regular visitors are people I become familiar with after seeing them there regularly. There’s always those people who turn over a new leaf and get motivated to go 3 times before petering out, but I just ignore them for the most part. What I want to see from guys at the gym is dedication and effort. I’m not impressed with a muscle-bound jock who is more attracted to his chest than mine. I’m attracted to the guy who is there, pushing himself to do things he wasn’t able to do just 2-3 weeks before.  Seeing men work hard is what does it for me.  It shows me that when they want something, they know that they need to earn it and they’re not afraid to. They don’t expect it to be easy, and that’s okay.

I’ll answer the phone for any man (the first time). I am just a courteous person that way. But the size of his wallet or his cock is not going to impress me. What good is a man who drives a Ferrari but then asks me to meet him at the restaurant?  I don’t care if his cock looks like a baby’s arm if he’s not willing to do what it takes to make me want to touch it.

Pick me up in a Mazda hatchback; take me a moderately priced restaurant that you enjoy, gently direct my hand to your crotch as we’re making out. But don’t be that guy who runs behind me in the park or thinks I’m going to straddle him when he’s bench pressing just because he grunts loudly when he lifts. Be the guy who is aware that earning the chance to see me put my mouth on it, making love to your cock with my moist, eager lips, is a reward that goes to the man who is willing to work for it.

I’ve mentioned to you before (and you can see it referenced throughout my site) that with my being a very sexual person, I am capable of getting you off to a glorious climax with any number of topics or themes. Whether it be a mind-numbing blow job, doggie-style with you bending me over in front of a 4th story window so that people on the street below can see me screaming in ecstasy, or just plain missionary (not that there’s anything boring about that), there’s no fantasy of yours that I am not skilled in bringing to life. All this said, I am not a mind reader, nor do I expect you to be. With that being the case, I would like to compare and contrast two concepts that I very much enjoy exploring, but for the purpose of clarifying them, as sometimes the same verbiage is mistakenly applied to both: Domination versus Seduction.

Domination can be angry. It can include whips, chains, pain, blood, and forced eating to fatten you up, to name just a few manifestations. It can be extremely sensual instead, with a loving voice that gives you the female attention that perhaps you do not get enough of on a regular basis. Tender whispers from me reinforcing your addiction to me can be as strong as handcuffs. I need no leash to keep you or to fully engage you. Domination is less about the method used, and more about the relationship. Whether your subordination to me is hard or soft, my hold is strong. You submit because you know breaking free is just not realistic. It’s better to recognize what I can do to you and for you and just bask in letting me do it.

Seduction is a related concept to domination, but the differences are important. Seduction is when I’ve brought you to a point where you do things for me, not because you feel you have no choice but to submit, rather because you want to and it gets you off. You would be gravely disappointed if I didn’t ask you for something, wouldn’t you? I could go in for a job interview that I’m not even qualified for, and still get the job. If I fucked the boss and then threatened to tell his wife, that would be domination. If I sat on his lap, rubbing his erection (that I created therefore own) through his pants, I bet that I could get him so hot that he’d not only give me the job, he’d beg me to accept it!

Imagine I did this to you? You might not have a job to give me, but I bet I could get you turned on to the point of no return. Think on these two concepts. Which are you hoping we can play with?

I’ve been unapologetically single for quite some time. However, I’m not single and lonely. I’ve surrounded myself with flat out amazing men. Kind, sincere, intelligent, witty, loyal, hilarious, generous, sexy, great catches of men! It would have been easy for me to jump into another relationship, but something stopped me. I needed to take some time to recharge from my last debilitating (life-sucking) relationship which left me sexually empowered, but dangerously apprehensive of monogamy and settling.

My intuition told me to stop sleeping with people, but my craving for sexual bliss made me want to have some fun! Even if my raging libido wanted otherwise, I needed to choose real connections over hot sex. I learned a tough lesson about myself that I no longer ignore. When I sleep with someone before I’m ready to commit to them, they become emotionally hung up and begin to cling to me like a fabric softener dryer sheet!
This was a bit of an epiphany for me. It was the catalyst for my dipping my toe into the infamous phone sex pool. I get asked constantly how I got into this industry, so I decided to answer that question to the masses in this post. As you probably know, I’m a far too sexual creature to not have great sex! My job is the best job in the world. It allows me to live a life where I am magnetic with creativity and sensuality. It affords me incredible freedom to embrace my self-awareness. I am able to reconnect my physical, emotional, and sexual bodies by having fan-fucking-tastic orgasms each and every day!

If you find yourself wondering if you can find sexual satisfaction without getting into a serious relationship, the answer is yes! If you desire closeness and intimacy but do not want the mental hopscotch that comes with physical sex, then phone sex with yours truly is the perfect solution for you! I am no stranger to pleasing cock and I’ve become damn good at it over the last few years. Do you find yourself between a rock and a hard place (quite literally)? I know exactly what you need and I’m ready to give it to you with no strings attached!

Ashlee