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Looking foolish does the spirit good. The need not to look foolish is one of youth's many burdens; as we get older we are exempted from more and more, and float upward in our heedlessness, singing Gratia Dei sum quod sum. - Johm Updike


Thanks be to God that I am what I am

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

The Swiss Financier Is Back in the U.S.

(I wrote this two weeks ago and I decided not to post it because I was ready to end my relationship with the first hosting company.  I did not want to be reminded of the few good callers I would be giving up if I did.  Since then, my working relationship with the hosting company has evened out.)

He's back, the Swiss Financier is in New York tonight and feeling horny.  I am embarrassed to say that I am actually glad to talk to him.  In my defense, this week has just been bad.  I got suckered into working on my days off and taken advantage of by the Downer.  I am really mad at myself for that one.  I love to give people second chances because I remember a time (or two) in my life when I acted like a jerk and really wanted a chance to prove that jerk-hood was not my natural state.  The Downer's natural state is to be as much of an asshole as s/he can get away with without getting slapped (or possibly shot, stabbed, or set on fire).  I looked up the hosting company on a consumer report website once, and trust me when I say that there a lot of former PSOs who hate the Downer with a blinding passion.  All but, one of the complaints were about this individual.  The one exception was a man with a credit card issue.  My guess; he needed to have a serious conversation with his teenage son and how that boy spends his afternoons.  It would probably be an eye opening experience for the man.

The Swiss Financier definitively made my evening a hell of a lot better.  First of all, talking to him raised my average out of the muck.  More importantly, he's fun to talk to and was glad to find me again.  It's nice to talk to a caller who is overjoyed to talk to me and doesn't want to plunge into his fantasy right away, unlike the Acolyte and Pantyman.  We talked about art, he had recently purchased a cityscape from a modern impressionist I actually know.  Not personally but, I have seen a show of the man's work and it is breathtaking.  The Swiss Financier tried to explain to me how art collecting is a little bit by gambling but, he was a little bit drunk and kept switching to German.  I teased him about it and he told me about the cocktail party he had been forced to attend with graphic descriptions of the other guests.  I laughed until I turned blue.

We talked about cuckoldry and his wife's latest boyfriend.  Young, handsome, dumb as a box of rocks, and thinks he's going to talk the wife into leaving her husband to support him and his band.  The wife is already getting bored with that one and thinking about a lengthy business trip to let him down easy.  The Swiss Financier thinks she should just tell pretty boy that it's not going to happen. I understand how disappearing for a bit is a hell of a lot easier and leaves the door open for an occasional hook up later.  He conceded my point while we switched to talking about alcohol.  American beer is disgusting, in his opinion.  I grew up in the Midwest where drinking cheap beer and 'shooting the gravels' is a weekend event so I knew that.  He tried to talk about wine with me and teased me, relentlessly, when I admitted that I have no palate for wine.  The Swiss Financier is convinced that if I tried enough good wine, I would develop a taste for it.  He's probably right and I told him about my experiences with cheese tasting.  I have hated cheese for years until I went to a cheese tasting sponsored  by the local Whole Foods Grocery.  I stumbled into it while shopping, actually, and got coaxed into trying several by enthusiastic cheese lovers who had taken over the event from the staff.

The Swiss Financier is convinced that I would make the perfect mistress for a wealthy man with cosmopolitan taste.  He advises me to sign up on one or more of those Meet The Sugar Daddy Of Your Dreams sites and stop wasting my time and talent.  He assures me that he will miss talking to me when I do but, tells me that I deserve better than the penny ante shit I am doing on the phone sex line.  I sigh as I listen to him imagine the wonderful life I could enjoy as a pampered mistress kept by a generous man.  We are drifting into his cuckoldry fantasy and I let him.  It is far easier than letting him pursue the idea of me being a kept woman and expecting feedback from.  I am honestly not sure that the Swiss Financier is thinking of himself as the Sugar Daddy in question though I suspect that he is.  This has happened to me before.  The caller starts giving me, as my character, advice and gets distracted as he warms to the idea.

The first time was with Mr. Gross and Boring, who really wanted me to switch to another phone sex service that allows video to be exchanged between members.  Since I won't advertise the hosting services I actually use, I am sure as hell not going to give the name of the one he suggested. Gross and Boring is obsessed with whether or not phone sex is real and I have taken a number of pot shots at his belief system over the months I have known him.  If he is not going to acknowledge that even the women he can see don't have any personal interest in his sorry ass fantasy, he's not going to listen to me.  This "do what I think you should because it would be good for me," crap is actually very common.  It used to bother me because it is a variation of a Contact Me fantasy but. the trainers have told me that it is very common and actually a sign of a talented PSO.  The more a caller falls for you and wants to meet, the more he has bought into your persona.

The Swiss Financier is an astute man and senses my emotional withdrawal from the conversation almost immediately  He asks me what is wrong.  I laugh and explain that I don't think I would be a very good mistress because I like running my own life too much.  Instead of arguing with me, as most callers would, he chuckles and agrees.  He calls me something in German Fraulein that I can't spell and explains that it means strong-willed.  He tells me to seek a career that puts me in contact with wealthy men who would appreciate my temperament.

"And what do you have in mind?" I purr and he proceeds to tell me.

Yeah, there is a reason I like this man.

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