Diary of an Internet Whore, 2020-09-02 Doing porn is so muc..

Diary of an Internet Whore, 2020-09-02 Doing porn is so much more than what people picture in their mind. The fun part of it is great, I mean, the actual shooting of a movie, getting dicked down really hard on camera and being turned on to know that hundreds, thousands, maybe one day millions of people will get off watching me be used like a horny slut. That part, I absolutely LOVE! I decided to get into porn because I’m horny all the time, and it actually caused me problems with my other jobs. I think about sex all the time. I just can’t help it. I figured, if I find a way to make a living out of it, then I’ll be able to have sex all day, or at least every day! But it’s also more than that to me. See, I’m an exhibitionist at heart. I confess, I’m a huge attention-whore. I dig it. I get turned on by turned on people. I discovered that side of myself when I first started shyly going out to BDSM and swingers clubs and events some two or three years ago. I’ve never went to a club before, I wasn’t into bars, gatherings, or anything. I was too uncomfortable in my skin. Then I walked into my first fetish events. I was terrified of being laughed at, but it’s really not what happened. Instead, I found the most accepting community ever. The fetish world is full of kind and thoughtful people. I realized it’s a gathering where people take their most vulnerable side, their deepest secrets and kinks, and they hype them up to expose them to others. They turn their fears into a source of joy. They teach each other self-acceptance, respect, and how to have a good time. It didn’t take long for me to let my guard down a bit and feel more comfortable. I was wearing a very skanky short dress with my buttcheeks hanging out, fishnets, heels, the whole nine yards. And then it happened. I got my ass smacked by a stranger. He told me I am a fine piece of ass. Woah! What a rush! I was petrified. I didn’t know what to do! I felt guilty, because being kind of disrespected like that had aroused me and society tells us it’s supposed to be something offensive that we condemn. I felt objectified, and it was a thrilling moment. I am desirable. So much so that another person couldn’t resist slapping my ass even if it’s not okay. I figured it kind of was: after all, I was dressed like a whore, at a fetish event, I was teasing everyone half-drunk and literally asking for it. Therefore, why should I be offended? If it would have happening randomly on the street, then it’s a different story. This first incident made me realize two things, the first being that I’m having an effect on men! I’m not being fun of: I’m actually attractive? Damn! I would have never have thought I was. The second thing I discovered really fast is that it's also something I enjoy---arousing men, instilling fantasies in them, seeing the lust in their eyes as they admire my alluring body. I felt sexy, and vulnerable, yet strong in that vulnerability. I had made it—I had successfully turned myself into a fine piece of ass, highly-desirable fuckmeat, and I didn’t feel shameful about it, I was actually proud. Looking like a slut and being treated as such was something I loved even more than I would have thought, and ever since that moment, I’ve been wanting more. I love the attention, the teasing, the desire, the lust. I understood right there and then that I’m an exhibitionist and a tease, and there is nothing wrong with that. I love to be desired, and after my first time having sex with a man (which is a story for another time), I also realized I could never turn back to women. I’m into men. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but I’m straight, in the sense that I’m a woman who’s into men. Whenever I see a man who turns me on, I immediately get this churning, wondering what he’s packing, like smoldering embers in my tummy aching to feel him invade my body and take me right there and then, feel the girth and length of his shaft spread apart my asspussy lips and thrust inside, submitting me to his most animalistic desires. I fucking crave sex with men, just plainly need it. However, it’s even more than that. My inner vixen, the slut inside me also has a thirst for attention. I found out that I love having a public the first time I gave head to a man in front of a small gathering of people at a private party. I get a thrill out of knowing that I’m giving you a fleeting moment of escape into a dreamworld. But it doesn’t stop there: I’m horny, so horny I would quality my libido as greedy. Feeling a strong man take my body, manhandle it, twist it and submit it to his desires and defile me as he please is not enough. A small crowd looking at me getting fucked live at a party is not enough. I could become an es-cort and have sex anonymously. But I’m an attention-whore. I want millions of people to look at me getting banged hardcore. That’s what turns me on; knowing that I provide a dream, a fantasy, the wildest and darkest and deepest of all. Again, I’m getting sidetracked. I just get too horny thinking and writing about all of this. As I was saying, doing porn is so much more than what people picture in their mind. The sex is the fun part, but there is so much more to it. People don’t realize all the work there is into it with all the aspects it involves: keeping fit, beauty appointments for hair, nails, and other cosmetic procedures such as fillers and botox and all that stuff; to the preparation for shooting a movie that takes hours it itself, ensuring my insides are all clean for ass-to-mouth action, pampering my hair, doing my makeup; to scouting locations, preparing the scene, the lighting, the tripods, the cameras; to the actual shooting of the movie, keeping angles in mind, remembering to look at the camera; to the post-filming, video editing, and that’s just the beginning. The real work isn’t even the shooting day, or recovering from surgeries, or scouting locations. The real work is not creating content. The real work is mornings like today, where I haven’t even had time to have breakfast, and I skipped lunch too, and my hair is dirty and I need to pluck my eyebrows and I haven't had time to doll myself up in days with makeup and I feel I look like shit and I didn't even take the time to put some clothes on because I’m busy answering fans. The real work is networking, trying to find other models to create content with. The real work is advertizing, marketing, putting myself out there, gaining exposure so people can find me and appreciate my work and support me in doing more by buying some of it, the parts that they enjoy. All in all, I’ve been working at this 12-14 hours a day, 6 days a week, for 2 months. I’ve never worked so much for so little money, but I love doing it and I want to keep doing more and more. That’s where the real issue is: How do I make it to stardom? How do I get the necessary exposure to be able to create content every day? And thus I grind, sitting alone in front of my laptop, in my empty room next to my cheap mattress and suitcase of clothes and makeup. The money is just a tool to allow me to do that all day. If I had all my expenses taken care of, if I had a roof over my head, all my debts paid, the few surgeries I'm missing paid for, a nice reliable car to get around, and an allowance to get the things I need, I wouldn't mind not making money, and just doing porn all week. I'd love it actually. Money and numbers bore me. It's just a distraction, a means to an end. I love to make art. My art is my body, my movies, and my writing. I don't care about accumulating wealth. I want to make you escape reality for a time, fantasize, and get off of me.