The Captain Returns: He Knew. He Was Just Role-Playing. (And Other Thoughts on Rimming)

A quick Point of Order in case you didn't got here by the previous entry: this piece is part 2 of a three part writing titled: Year Two: The Porn Star Era Diaries. You can read the first part here.

In my last entry, I mentioned the Captain—the foot worship client who I was sure didn't know I was trans.

Turns out I was wrong.

He knew. He was just… role-playing. Not correcting me. Letting the fantasy breathe. Letting me sit in the tension of the moment while he enjoyed the scene exactly as it was.

That's a relief, honestly. I really like the Captain. I'd love for him to become a regular.

The Question He's Been Asking

He's been circling something specific, though. Rimming. The black kiss, as some call it.

And I have mixed feelings.

I'm open-minded. I know how to practice rimming safely—hygiene, barriers, communication. The logistics aren't the issue. The issue is that a client who wants to rim me might have rimmed other sex workers. And while I trust me—I know I take care of myself, I don't take unnecessary risks—every provider has different limits.

Some won't say no to anything. Some cross their own boundaries because they need the money or want the money. That's not a judgment. It's a reality. And that reality sits in the back of my mind and doesn't let me fully relax into the experience.

Of course, I've been rimmed before. By exclusive partners, in the safety of mutual trust and known histories. It's delicious. Truly. But in a professional context, the math is different. The variables multiply. The trust has to be earned, not assumed.

An Open Letter to the Captain

So, dear Captain, these are my thoughts on the subject of your pleasure.

I'm not closed. I'm just careful. Cautious. Aware of what my body is worth and what I expose it to. You've been a gentleman so far—respectful, communicative, eager without being demanding. That counts for a lot. It's why I'm even considering this instead of giving a flat no.

If we continue to see each other, if the trust deepens, maybe the answer shifts. Maybe not. But I want you to know where I stand right now: curious, flattered, and holding the gate.

You'll probably understand that. You seem like the type who does.

This is Part Two of a three-entry series. Read Part One (the superhuman weekend) here:. Next up: the big one. Year Two of the porn star era demands a rebrand—new services, new pricing, a whole new approach. Read it here: [link to Entry 3].