I often say that if you don’t invite or incite change, it’s going to be imposed on you. And then you stand to lose a lot of the choices, leverage, and freedom you would have had if you accepted the situation and pivoted.

Throughout spring, I had several big changes thrust upon me. And despite my usage of a word often found in romance/smut novels and amateur erotica, most of the thrusting wasn’t sexy. Boo.

A heavy heart still has to beat, however, and what’s keeping me moving forward instead of crumpling into an exhausted ball is the excitement for new energy. Change begets change, and I’m wide open to the future opportunities being created by the moves I make now.

I’m an extremist, and I find that when one thing changes, it’s my nature to add to that and make a big swing even bigger. So here we go.

June availability.

You want to be reaching out to me YESTERDAY for June dates. Between working, special projects, and the normal breakneck pace of summer and all its activities, much of my time is spoken for. It’s gonna be a ride this month, my loves. If I can have you, I will, but click that Book button right meow.

Do as she says and book

Incall availability.

The way I had to try so hard not to spill the beans on this, just in case the opportunity fell through…!

I’m a fantastic hostess, and not enough of you know it. But now you can! I’ll be hosting from the West side of Chicago. Exact incall availability date TBD, but I’m aiming for late July.

My varied talents can finally be fully expressed. I’ll have all my toys at our disposal, and should we want to play “Yes Chef,” now we can in a full kitchen. Full massage therapy equipment will also be set up, meaning I’ll be offering FBSM, which has been at the top of my list of to-dos for a long time.

A one-stop Feel Good shop for my lovers is on its way.

Rate change.

In step with my soon-to-be-updated offerings, I will be refining my rates for current offerings, including changing my incall/outcall fee setup since I’m offering an incall location to you.

Dates booked in June for June through the end of July will be honored at my current rates.

Summer travel.

After being away for nearly three months (whoops!) earlier in the year and being distracted by work and personal projects, I haven’t had much time to plan my summer vacation other than collecting beach reads for when I’m inevitably lounging somewhere.

Because we fight so hard for summer here in Chicago, I try to stick around the Midwest for most of the season to enjoy our hard-earned heat. I expect to be taking long weekends out of town, camping, going to festivals, and being the slinky water baby that I am.

You, a Midwesterner: “Ope, but whaddabout tours in da Midwest, Elena, will you be doin summa dose dis summer?”1

Me: “No yeah, you betcha.”

Tour schedule for late summer and fall on the way. Out of office travel schedule for after the Fourth of July is also forthcoming. (Fourth-coming? Ha.)

Both of these will be deeply swayed by inquiries I receive over the next two weeks, so wait to set your clock to Island Time until you send me a message.

Send me that message we discussed

For your own personal knowledge, here is a short list off the dome of things I don’t have / haven’t done and have been meaning to try:

• Crying Tiger in Chicago

• Louboutins

• Making a terrarium or aquascape

• Boating on Lake Michigan, setting sail from Chicago or any lakeside city

• Pickleball

• Museum of Post Punk and Industrial Music

• Sybaris Pool Suites

Tell me yours so I can steal them and add them to my own list.

So excited to spend summer closer to you than ever. It’s gonna be a hot one baby.

Ciao and meow from your Leonessa,

What is it about pretty women that makes me just ache?

This thought runs through my head as I stare in the mirror. No, I’m not referring to myself, although based on the looks I received as I walked into this store, I wouldn’t be wrong if I were.

I’m gazing past myself towards the sales associate. In my mind I’m being nondescript, sneaking glances without her noticing. But she’s wearing a small smile as she moves about; the knowing kind, the genuine kind. The kind they can’t pay you to plaster on for customers. Ugh. She is so pretty.

My two current favorite lingerie stores are overseen by much older, no-nonsense women who collectively must have seen millions of breasts. They are poised but unperturbed, not vying for your sexual desires to be transferred onto them when there’s work to be done. Armed with their fabric tape measures, they will help you find a remarkable fit amidst a sea of straps and cups. But otherwise, nothing about the experience will be noteworthy. Very cut and dry. That’s what I was prepared for as I pulled on the handle of this new store. Instead, I was greeted by an angel.

Her soft movements catch me off guard, highly contrasted with the street noise let in by my entrance. She welcomes me as the closing door slowly shuts out the world behind me. “Thank you,” I stammer, eyes wide. She’s one of two associates in a store with a dizzying selection made to look even greater by the multiple mirrors on every wall, but I can’t focus on anything but her.

The woman in front of me embraces all of my senses at once, without warning. In her heels she has a few inches on me, but to my eye we are very close in height, each able to look directly into the other’s face. All of her features are soft: smooth hair dusting her shoulders with a sigh. Lovely, lively coloring; it looks like the sun bends down from the sky every morning to delicately kiss her on the face. A classic button-down shirt and knee-length skirt lay on her frame perfectly, the outfit somehow both relaxed and crisp. Her gentle curves fill out her clothing in a way that would make any professional tailor sigh with pleasure. I knew immediately without even being within reach that she smells unbelievable.

It’s worth saying that I’m not a bashful person in social situations. But especially recently, I’ve been having run-ins with women who have stopped me in my tracks. There is no unifying theme to their qualities, save that they are desperately appealing to me. As is happening now, I end up feeling helpless. I’m sure it’s felt and seen in my squirmy mannerisms and clunky conversation. Say your goodbyes now because I’m a goner.

She steps towards me and cocks her head, asking if there is anything she can help me find. I was just planning to browse, so I make up a request. “Something, eh, vibrant and also…colorful. That makes my skin pop. And looks special,” I say haltingly, and she turns to the closest mannequin. “Maybe something less popular,” I push out. She pauses, my desired effect. Whatever will keep her with me for as long as possible.

“How fun. There are some sets that I’m always hoping more people would try, they’re far more flattering on than you’d think just by looking at them.” She smiles and leans in the tiniest bit, lowering her voice. “I wish I had more customers like you.”

Was that a purr? I’m arrested, frozen in place. My body’s only movements are pulsing beats in my chest and panties.

She breezes forward, seemingly unaware of my state. “Do you know your size?” I nod. Her eyes flick to my chest. “Perfect. Let’s look around together…” I start to follow her, but my mind is thinking about more than what she’s holding in front of me.

Of course it makes sense to employ someone absolutely delectable for a lingerie store. Your first instinct as she’s showing the selection of colorful bras by Chantelle or Panache is to imagine her helping you slip into one. When she points to the Bordelle sets, you imagine her deft fingers sliding the satin elastic straps into place, arranging them so they look just like they do on the model, binding you into place. And when she shows you whisper-thin Simone Perele pieces, your eyes dart to her shirt, wondering if that’s what’s creating that almost-imperceptible ridge in her otherwise smooth blouse.

My heart continues to skip as we go on. I’ve fully succumbed to my internal fantasy. Rather than being just a customer, I’m a scene partner in an enchanting role play. Subtext roils in the undercurrent of our banal dialogue. When she makes a suggestion, it’s not for what to buy. It’s for what would please her to see me wear.

The tension I feel is threatening to boil over into some corny remark. Do you come with the bra? I imagine myself asking with a cringe.1 I’m panting as we continue to select pieces for me, her lovely arms increasingly laden with silks and lace.

She finally directs me to a fitting room, hanging my haul and turning to go, saying she has one more set she just thought of to try. She doesn’t close the curtain behind her.

Momentarily alone, I slip off my blazer and reach for one of the bras, a smooth apple green garment with black lace trim. She chose this for me.

My eyes flit to my own face in the mirror. I am being so dramatic. Focus, Lena. There’s money on the line here. My money. On pricey lingerie. I can’t let this enchantress know she’s got her hooks—bra or otherwise—in me. She slides back in the room during my internal pep talk, surprising me.

“Oh, I love that set you’re holding. Turn and hold it up so I can see the color against you,” she says. I turn and do as I’m told. She takes a few steps towards me and pauses to consider.

She looks up from my body, right into my eyes, and holds my gaze.

“That color is perfect for you,” she breathes. I want to inhale her breath. “Your skin is glowing. You’re absolutely flushed.” She punctuates that last word.

Oh, she knows. I am so fucked.

Wait. Wait wait wait.

Did I say that out loud?

A moment passes. I’m sure I did, but she says nothing as our eyes stay locked. Is there air left to breathe in this fitting room?

“Hmm,” she says, considering. What would it be like to feel her make that noise while her lips are pressed against mine?

“Now that I look at you, I’m not sure that’s your size.”

She pulls the curtain closed and turns back to me.

“Let me help you with that.”

Part Two will be out next week…

Ciao and meow from your Leonessa,

I know I’m loved because earlier this month I received an influx of messages notifying me that, poof! My X account was gone. You’re the reason I was even aware of this as it happened at the very tail end of my quiet social media hiatus. Grazie mille, very good looking out, babe. ❤️

While I appealed the suspension, I’m not expecting any miracles. And if my OG account does come back, 100% guarantee it’ll be massively limited. So in the meantime, new X account @saucebyelena is up. Please give me a follow while I bring that up to speed.

That said, I really debated creating a new account. X is decidedly not friendly to providers and hasn’t been for a while. We all know this. You’ve seen your favorite providers and personalities quietly axed with no explanation. My account was newer and had ~2100 followers so it’s not as if I was putting up impressive numbers. But I’ve seen it happen to so many others, including public figures and peers with massive accounts. It’s icky and deflating. We’re just trying to flaunt for you!

Additionally and horrifyingly, xAI’s Grok is running amok with harmful actions against individuals via nonconsensual deepfake abuse. And about a month ago, iconic porn star and industry activist Siri Dahl had her personal information leaked by Grok. She brought her story to 404 Media. It’s unclear how and why this happened, but the lesson should be that if it can happen to her, it can happen to anyone. And there’s no playbook for how to protect ourselves from these unprecedented privacy breaches.

If you still love X, do you. I mean, I’m clearly still trying to have a presence there, still adore the memes and snark. I loved Twitter back in the day. My personal social media was just Twitter and Reddit for the longest time. And dear God did it hurt to lose the list of accounts I follow. So I’m nostalgic to a degree, too. But at our core, we’re all real human beings running small businesses, and as such X is failing us as a tool. It’s so tough to poke through the noise and grow, or even just to find friends. And the increased censorship is grating. You hit “post” with your teeth clenched and breath held as if it’s a pap smear rather than a social platform. Sheesh.

All that to say: Clients, if you’re not already on Bluesky, you should be. Even just three months ago, so many providers still had no presence on the platform. Cut to today, and the numbers are greatly inflated with the activity to match. It’s a nicer experience. And we can all be sluttier which is apparently too much to ask of X these days. Elon doesn’t like titties and companionship? Guess he’d rather be E-LONE. *chortle chortle guffaw*

Three quick things to get up and running after you create your Bluesky account:

1. Follow me, because you love me.

2. Read the client guide from beloved community member/thought leader and artist Mel. This includes adding the #OurSky feed to your profile. Unlike X, Bluesky doesn’t throw a tantrum with hashtags so you’ll see more of them here.

3. Check for Starter Packs/Lists. There’s a “Starter Packs” tab in each profile where some of our more action-oriented colleagues have made topical lists of providers, such as those on the East Coast, those open to touring or FMTY, etc. Here’s one from lovely Erica St. James where yours truly happens to be listed. You can easily find and follow many of your favorites.

   [Edited 2/20/26 to add a final important bullet point—]

4. Engage with us. Like and comment on our photos and posts, perhaps even go so far as to repost them. Growing an account feels like posting into the void, and the account analytics/metrics aren’t all there with Bluesky yet. So it can be hard to tell if our friends and clients are seeing what we’re putting out without that feedback. The more we know you’re seeing our posts, the more we’ll post. And the more providers are posting, the more exciting your feed will be. Our respective activity will feed one other. Sexy, no?

Providers are truly the pioneers of internet trends and adoption, so if we’re telling you to do it, you’re gonna wanna get on that.

Questions? I might have answers, but if I don’t I can find someone who does. Truly one of my specialties. 💋 Comments are open.

Thanks to all our open-minded, agile clients who do what it takes to support us. You’ll be rewarded for your efforts. And a huge thank you to the plugged-in providers in our community who pave the way for us less tech-y folk to succeed in new internet territory.

Ciao and meow from your Leonessa,

But still. There’s always engines turning and something happening and it’s just dawning on me how I’m uneasy when that’s not the case. It’s to the point where increased space between streetlights or dulled traffic automatically puts me a little on edge.

When did this happen? Time for a remedy.

I’ll be taking a much dreamed-of road trip to finish out winter. (Hopefully, that is. You can never really be sure that Chicago is through with the cold until June or even July.)

Ever the planner, I plotted a little circular route through the Midwest and Southeast to chase warmth, space, and affection from friends and lovers.

Major stops along my route down, and the loose dates I plan to be there:

• Louisville, KY: 2/13 - 2/15

• Nashville, TN: 2/15 - 2/16

• Orlando / Kissimmee, FL: 2/18

• West Palm Beach / Fort Lauderdale, FL: 2/21 to ?

I expect to linger around Southeast Florida just long enough to get some life back into my frosty toes. The rest of my body is so hot, and yet I feel like I can never keep my little digits warm. That’s your job, no?

While I’m a good girl and do my homework so I’m not walking in blind, I’m notorious for changing plans when an unexpected opportunity arises.

So I’m asking: Are you in these cities, or have you been? Any recommendations for this little kitty to sink her claws into?

More importantly, might you want to capture some of my time on this trip for your own?

Next Exit to Elena

My next task is the way back. Although I’m itching for this trip and bound to get caught up in the freedom of being out of Chicago’s grid, I know I’ll miss it sooner than I may think. Details to come in a future post, but I’m imagining stopping through these major cities:

• Savannah, GA

• Columbia, SC

• Charlotte, NC

• Asheville, NC

And then: Knoxville, TN? Chattanooga or Louisville, TN? Columbus or Cincinatti, OH? I haven’t quite figured out the end. But that’s true of most things in this life. I’m open to suggestions as I hungrily add more stops, friends, and attractions to my To-Go lists.

So looking forward to breathing new life and love into 2026, for myself and for you. I’ll catch you on the road, babe.

Want to send me a little gas money? My heart just beat a little harder at the thought. Let me know.

Ciao and meow from your Leonessa,

Oooh, it feels good to be back in front of my keyboard for fun. My blog is back after a hiatus to enjoy the forever too-short summer, and also some space to adjust to the coming gray months. (More on that below.)

As I write this, I’m in my favorite lush robe with a hot mug of mint tea, the calming sound of absolutely nothing making it possible to think clearly. Let’s catch up, shall we?

Miss you already: Recent trips to Washington DC + Philadelphia

I rarely get over to DC or the surrounding area and it’s such a shame. I’ve been several times and have never felt that I did it the “right” way. When I travel, I love to poke around and settle in, and sadly it was a short trip in DC. Looking forward to next time. I could certainly be convinced to head to Tysons, Richmond, or Baltimore if not DC proper. Email me, babe.

Meanwhile, Philly and its suave, smart inhabitants know I love being there, and I try to visit often. I almost feel like I’m building a little parallel life there…I’ve said many times that if I didn’t live in Chicago, I’d be in Philly. When I have visitors from out of the country, I always recommend Chicago and Philly over the cultural behemoths of NYC, LA, and Miami because the former locales each have unique heartbeats, and it feels like you can really get your hands around them and feel in place.

Highlights from my trip:

[DC]

National Postal Museum. Don’t laugh, but this was my absolute favorite little side quest. My free time was limited and I was dead set on getting to a museum as I understand many of them are closing with the continued shutdown. A while back I posted on Twitter that I’m a little fixated on stamps. It’s nerdy, but I love the bite-sized art and I absolutely took some souvenirs home.

Chai Lattes. With oat milk, of course. I had three in my 36ish hours in DC, don’t judge. Two were technically Ethiopian spiced tea lattes, because DC’s Ethiopian food scene is top notch. I slept poorly, but I regret nothing.

[Philly]

Tasting menu at Friday Saturday Sunday. I found out that Philly is only just now getting its own Michelin guide, launching in November. This place absolutely needs to be on the list! I am (if I may be so crass) a slut for a wine pairing and was a huge fan of the offerings on the list. Thank you to my date who surprised me with this treat.

Gun Range. Another surprise and a bucket list item checked off! I’m not a gun person, but I’m down for most anything and wanted to take a shot (har har). Frankly I can see how going to a range, indoors or out, becomes a hobby. I wouldn’t at all say it was a way for me to let off steam as one of the other folks at the range told me it was for him. But I am extremely self-competitive and was quickly laser focused on hitting bullseye. I did it, not once but twice. And then my date and I went to bed and did something else twice.

Spooky season favorites for those who don’t need more frightening

I’m a scaredy cat when it comes to the fearsome, okay? A skittish ghoul girl, if you will. But that means I love to cuddle for warmth and safety. Ready the blankets, baby.

Reading

Does anyone else find it easier to read horror than to watch it? Many tell me they feel exactly the opposite, though those people just may not like reading.

• Interview With the Vampire / The Vampire Lestat - Anne Rice: I’m starting the TV show, and am insistent that I read the book before the movie version. It’s why I haven’t seen Dune though I’ve been itching to since it was announced years ago!

• The Halloween Tree - Ray Bradbury: An absolute classic written by an absolute classic.

• Fledgling - Octavia Butler: More vampires from one of my favorite authors of all time.

• Wuthering Heights - Emily Brontë: With the upcoming newest film adaptation, I thought it was finally time to give this a go. Good job, Margot Robbie, ya got my nose in some Brontë.

Vampires are heavy on the mind this year. At one point as a child, my nickname was “Claudia” because I was fond of biting. Some of you know personally that I haven’t curbed that behavior…

Watching

You’ll rarely if ever find me taking in a horror flick. Perhaps if it’s super campy with bad or outdated special effects. But short of that, I’ll stick with holiday classics like

• It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown (1966)

• Witches Night Out (1978)

• Practical Magic (1998)

• Interview With the Vampire (2022 TV show. I just started Season One!)

Conquering the seasonal blues with intimacy

Every year, I am absolutely walloped by seasonal depression for the first bit of October. If Chicago is my adopted hometown, the black sheep of the family is absolutely how relentless winter’s gray weather is. I never get used to it and find myself struggling as it becomes clear that summer is indeed over.

Day to day, what helps me most is setting and sticking to a schedule. I’m not a morning person as it is and that’s ten times worse when we’re told to wake up in the dark. Cue the espresso.

What makes the months feel like something to be treasured rather than simply endured, however, is prioritizing intimacy and connectedness. When I’m down, it can be hard to pick out the specific culprits and reasons why, because it all blends together in heaviness. The increased need for care is glaring. Without fail, it’s mood-altering to choose to create moments where the sole goal is to experience time and love with another person you admire, respect, and desire. So simple but so difficult for many of us to acknowledge and invest our resources into.

If you’re currently feeling the unique heartbreak and heft of the seasonal change, my best to you, babe. Remember the colder months bring their own opportunities and beauty. Grateful for the kindness and empathy of those around me, and I wish the same for you.

Beat your blues with Elena

Hmm. Should I have mentioned at the top that I’m only wearing the robe and nothing under it? The softness of the plush fabric against my own soft skin is making me stir. My mind is fogging up and attention drifting elsewhere because I’m more aroused than I realized.

What can I say? It’s a blessing and a curse. I’ll end here, but keep thinking of me because I’ll certainly be thinking of what to do with you to address my needs, love.

Ciao and meow from your Leonessa,

Tipper Gore has been on my mind for weeks.

Certainly not in any sexual-fantasy sense, though if someone who objects to Purple Rain is to your taste, no judgement…I guess.

Somehow I was reminded of the 1985 Congressional hearings brought on by Gore’s Parents Music Resource Center (PMRC) insisting that the music of the day was absolutely filthy. The group lobbied for the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA) to develop a music rating system similar to movie ratings that could be used to label records for concerned parents. Musicians and artists noted that this was a form of censorship, in addition to being a herculean task. The RIAA did actually create those generic “Parental Advisory” labels before the hearings ended and started slapping them on “selected releases of their own discretion.”1

I recently watched the individual testimonies of all-star opposing witness lineup Dee Snider of Twisted Sister, John Denver, and freaking FRANK ZAPPA. Their responses to out-of-touch, judgmental lines of questioning are thoughtful and pointed, their testimonies very clearly reflecting their unique worldviews and styles. Some favorite lines from Zappa:

• “It is my understanding that, in law, First Amendment Issues are decided with a preference for the least restrictive alternative. In this context, the PMRC’s demands are the equivalent of treating dandruff by decapitation.”

• “Taken as a whole, the complete list of PMRC demands reads like an instruction manual for some sinister kind of ‘toilet training program’ to house-break all composers and performers because of the lyrics of a few. Ladies, how dare you?”

• “Bad facts make bad law, and people who write bad laws are, in my opinion, more dangerous than songwriters who celebrate sexuality.”

Why is any of this sexy? Well, it’s really not. It is super-badass of our heroic artists opposing this strange attack on creativity and expression. But what’s hot is what this deep dive gave me the urge to do: Grab my tiny outfits and my platform Pleaser heels, let my hair get big and curly, cue up Van Halen’s 1984, and call the only person fit for the job of capturing this would-be eighties babe, Joey Picasso.

Read more

Below I’ve collected updates that my delicious bum can’t sit on for any longer. Come take a look and give me a squeeze while you’re here:

At this rate…

Starting in August 2025, my rates are going up. I’m fortunate that my run so far has introduced me to people with incredible passion and generosity. I really need an extra day in the week because the feeling of not being able to get enough is deeply mutual.

Thank you to those who have booked and engaged with me to date. It's very sexy to know that my lovers want success for me as I always wish for them.

If you have already booked a date, and/or if you book a date taking place by July 31st, current rates will apply. Please note that I always prioritize longer dates (4+ hours) but that is especially true for the remainder of July as availability is limited.

Any dates booked for/on August 1st and after will fall under the new rate structure. My website and ads will be updated at that time.

Book Elena right meow

The Philadelphia Story2

My personal life has summoned me to Philly, a city I absolutely adore, with a fun opportunity. And even more exciting, I’ll be accepting dates on this trip.

To say I’m thrilled to bounce around Philly on the arm of a lover is not saying enough. I can’t wait to be your sultry sidekick and turn every eye while you look on with pride.

I’ll be in Philadelphia, PA, from Wednesday July 23rd to Saturday July 26th.

I feel confident in saying that nobody makes plans like I do. Even if you’re a native Philadelphian, I guarantee you I can find something that you’ve never thought to do. Time with me is sensual, surprising, and satisfying. Don’t play it by ear.

Please reach out to meetelenamarchetti@proton.me to screen and for touring rates/info. I’ll be posting on socials as well but you heard it here first.

Forever in My Heart

Warmest grazie to everyone who sent tips and gifts or their kind words after my sweet dog passed late last month. I was able to take a few days off which helped, but you know, it’s just not the same without him.

Many sent messages about their own experiences with loving and losing a pet, or with loss in general. It helped me lift out of the initial sinking devastation and I’m very grateful for those little lifelines.

My heart will be broken for a long time, but that’s the consequence of loving so much and being open to so much love. I remain as I always have: brimming with affection, nurturing care, empathy, and love and ready to receive the same.

Spending Time Where it Counts re: Social Media

I truly have such a love/hate with social media.

• Love: connecting with peers and lovers, exposure to new things and knowledge, feeling like a part of a bigger world, memes

• Hate: paying attention to engagement, worrying about ToS and targeted policies, wasting time scrolling, clickbait, AI slop

Admirers on Twitter will notice that the accounts of many providers and sex workers are being flagged, censored, and outright deleted. It’s affecting engagement and profile reach, and ultimately livelihoods. So as a result, you may be seeing a shift in content focus and posting styles.

If you’re not following me on Bluesky, I encourage you to swing by. It’s a less snarky but there’s also significantly less censorship. I am beginning to play with laying my soul a bit more bare over there, if you catch my drift, as opposed to an increasingly laced-up presence on Twitter. And I’m not sure how I did it, but my algorithm has funneled so much original art into my Bluesky feed. It’s excellent and feeds the soul.

I can’t speak for all providers, but I certainly appreciate the engagement on my socials. It helps me figure out what you want to see, so grazie to those admirers and followers who support and tip. A big wet kiss to you.

Bluesky

Writing for Pleasure, and Then Some

And finally: Galvanized as I have been by admirers who have already pleged support for my writing, I’m turning on paid features for Leonessa della Tastiera in the coming weeks.

You may have noticed my posts have been a little spare in May and June. I spent this time writing and planning my posts, doing photoshoots, and working to organize what was very quickly becoming a little pile of (well-structured) words.

The response to my writing so far has really been something. I’m glad it’s stimulating to you; it should be, that’s very much my goal. I have to tell you that so many times, I end up making myself hot while writing, so I’m not immune. (But perhaps I am a little vain, getting off to my own work?)

You can hit the “Subscribe” or “Pledge Your Support” button found all over my posts, including this one. I so appreciate that you’re loving my erotica, lists, ideas, and thoughts and am looking forward to sharing much more.

That’s a wrap this week—cin cin, love.

Ciao and meow from your Leonessa,

There is a lot that appeals, no doubting that. But what stands out to each individual tells me something about them as much as it endorses those qualities.

I hear that I read as intelligent and genuine. Sometimes I'm told my accommodating nature, loving heart, and general sweetness come through in my online activity and voice. More often, I hear that while I do seem sweet, it's clear that there is something naughty and passionate coexisting with the saccharine. Not even under the surface, just standing next to it in broad daylight.

Often it will just be that I ooze sexuality and an embrace of the openly sensual, and that because of this, I will not be judgmental or intolerant of left-of-center interests or idiosyncrasies.

I'll read in introductory emails that suitors know without knowing that I am stunning and carry myself as such. On dates, I'll be told that I'm easy to be with and so familiar, even though there is something very unknown present in my personality.

I have been told that my voice is erotic and deeply pleasing. I have been told that the words I say with that voice make my paramours feel loved and cared for beyond what they routinely receive, or what they previously believed they deserved.

Lovers have declared that I'm a princess to be treasured and pampered, and that I shouldn't have a care in the world, everything will be handled for me. Daddy's girl. Baby. Separately, I've also been called Mommy or Mistress and handed the reins, fully in control and holding someone's vulnerabilities in my soft hands so they can finally let go.

Others can—and perhaps should—attest to the truth of these statements better than I. What I hope is universally agreed upon is that while some of these qualities are more prevalent than others at times, they're all there.

The resplendent mistress crushing the world under her sharp heel is also the delicate, soft woman with a sensual warmth known exclusively by you. The stranger with a cool affect can love you with an enveloping heat, like you are one and the same. She steers the ship; she is the mermaid on the bow.

To be cliche, I contain multitudes1. And I see that you do, too.

One of my core truths in this life is that while I have deep trust in my instincts, it can be extremely hard for me to step outside of myself and dispassionately assess what is best for me. To really understand that while I may think I want one thing, it's this other thing that will really bring me peace and pleasure.

And yet, when I see you, when we talk and spend time together, I can feel in my heart what you truly need and want. I believe that you probably don't even know you might need something, don’t even know how to ask for it. But not only do I fully understand that yes, that's the key, but also that I'm the perfect person to use it to unlock something in you.

Why is that so, why does it work? Because—all together now—I contain multitudes.

It works because I when I am with you, I want to be. I am open.

Take. Receive.

Your good girl is your bad girl, and she’s here for you.

Ciao and Meow from your Leonessa,

The photographer: Jules of Jewel Tones Chicago

The literary reference: The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros, a coming-of-age novel set in Chicago and one of my most-read books.

The vibe: Beautiful Elena all zhushed (jooshed?) up in some of her favorite looks, floating around all the nooks and crannies of this space…and then posing in them.

Normally liquid and lithe, my gait today could best be described as a “totter.” I'm breathlessly trying to navigate deep sidewalk cracks in my tall, high-heeled black boots because I am late! I crash through the front doors of the industrial building, large suitcase struggling to keep up with me.

Jules is patiently waiting inside. She's been here before. We snake through the massive warehouse, proud of ourselves for figuring out the elevator so I don't have to lug my enormous suitcase up several flights of stairs. This is a lingerie shoot featuring tiny "outfits", so why the hell do I have such a massive piece of luggage? What’s in this thing?

By the time we open the door to the space, my warm body has a light sheen of sweat under the long sleeved dress I'm wearing. Hmm. Not ideal but perhaps it will reflect well in photos when my dress comes off.

The space is cavernous, truly massive. So many different sets for us to work with. We take a lap and take it in.

The thing about me is I'm someone who likes to prepare and do my homework ahead of time, because in the moment, I want to feel as free as possible. Depending on my current headspace, I posit that this tendency is either proof of my boundless ambition, or an anxiety response to try to control my environment. Both are true, just not at the same time.

In this case, I’ve mapped out the spaces I definitely want to play in, and the outfits I want to wear as I’m doing so. The best thing about collaborating with other people, however, is that you don’t know what they’re going to bring to the table. That’s the magic. As we check out my outfits and the space, we’re talking about the lighting, what’s showing up in the background, how to pose, what’s the mood. For me, bringing the vision to life with a collaborator is the most enthralling part of the experience.

With a loose plan of action, I step out of my street clothes and into Outfit #1: A clingy, low-backed dress in my favorite color, purple. Not even a wisp of an undergarment in sight.

I'm a little wooden to begin with. Lips pouting and pulling with nerves, fretful laughter, stiff movements, arms unsure where to go. When I lean on surfaces in my own home, would I stroke them like this, do I grip the edge? Have I ever sat on a chair before, because it sure doesn't feel like my body knows what to do. My basic motor skills seem MIA.

What helps me loosen up is imagining that you are behind the camera, or perhaps just off to the side. You’re watching your beautiful, radiant Elena stretch and move in front of a camera, knowing that afterwards you get a more tactile experience with your lover. With this in mind, I drift into a fantasy as Jules snaps away.

I’m your sensual, soft ingénue, floating about our home after my late-night performance. I received a standing ovation but the only hands I cared about were yours. I told Charlie behind the bar I’d be skipping my usual post-show glass of Woodford neat in favor of sipping on a Lagavulin at home with you…

Click - click - click

The camera brings me back and Jules suggests moving to the dining room. We find a glass with for me to use as a prop, and on an impulse I fill it with a dubious-looking dark liquid. Jules makes a face.

“I mean, it should have something in it, right?” I ask, grinning.

“Just…keep it at a distance,” she replies. I laugh and raise the foamy Frankenstein concoction in a toast.

We get back to shooting and my imagination resumes its story.

My lover is making me something to nibble on before we retire. You enter the dining room with our midnight snack—a few savory things, a few sweet things because you know I have a terrible sweet tooth—and another splash of scotch. I’m a vision poised dramatically at our table, but when my eyes lock on you they’re full of warmth and my body melts with ease.

I’m fully into this shoot now, dancing around to a window, a staircase, a bookshelf. Leg this way, hand up here, holding a rose, clutching a curtain…

Intermission. Time has flown by, even ignoring my tardiness, and it’s time to shed my gown and slip into Outfit #2. My favorite outfit is always going to be no outfit, but a close second for the day is my red lingerie set paired with a silky floral robe.

Red is a power color for this brunette, and I shine in most shades of the color. This one happens to be bright and inviting, contrasting heavily with my creamy pale skin. I am quite literally wrapped up like a present, a big bow opening like flower petals between my breasts.

I know exactly what I want to do in this outfit, but unfortunately you’re not here. So in the meantime, I prance over to the expansive all-white corner of the room and get set up. The spare space means that the focus is on me and me alone. Delicious.

“You’re on nipple duty,” I tell Jules. “They just keep wanting to peek out of this bra real bad.”

“Got it…” Jules says, amused, raising both her cameras to set up the shot.

We pull a white stool into the frame. Muscle memory kicks into gear and I immediately straddle it without a thought. Pavlovian response, much?

I’m in my element here. What does it say about me that less is really more in my book when it comes to clothing? We take maybe a dozen shots with the robe before it’s enthusiastically dropped. With my ass out, the world is mine for the taking.

I’m happy to lounge on a box, stretch out on the floor, lean against the wall, and fluff my hair and breasts in a mirror. Jules is a fair and just nipple referee, ensuring that at most we get a tasteful glimpse until it’s time for everything to come off. This is my space. I could do a million things here. I regret not bringing more props to play with, but Jules and I are in simpatico and fully in conversation as we dance around each other.

Jules: “Stretch your leg out here.”

Me: “Oh yeah that’ll look great.”

[stretches leg]

Jules: “Okay that’s a little too much, it’s giving unnatural.” I laugh and retract my long gams a bit.

Just like what happens on dates with clients, our session comes to a close entirely too fast. We spend our last 10 minutes racing to get shots on the bed, gorgeous light filtering through the gauzy canopy. I slip my bra off but then decide I want it on again. Ass up, facing away from the camera and then facing back. Assuming as many positions as I can in order to make love to the camera in a way that would in practice feel cumbersome during actual lovemaking with another person.

We check the clock. Time to put this shoot to bed.

I hop up, skating over to my luggage to strip and put my street clothes back on. We’re close to overstaying our welcome and I don’t want our host to give us a hard time, because I’d love to shoot here again. I carelessly throw my things into my suitcase—again, it’s unclear what exactly is taking up so much space but I’m having trouble getting the thing shut. The picture of calm, Jules has my backpack. What a queen.

We head out the door and see a large group of men heading towards the loft for their session. I’m convinced I left an errant thong laying about. Lucky them. That one was free of charge.

If you liked looking at me here, you’ll love it even more in real life. Don’t be a stranger; send me a note and I’ll give you your own private photo shoot.

Ciao and meow from your Leonessa,

Legendary Chicago journalist Mike Royko once said, "One of the hallmarks of Chicago is that we do so many things in an original manner."

He's right about that across the board, but especially when it comes to charitable work and community support.

I believe that wherever you are in the world or in life, it's possible to make a positive difference. These days, I’m relying on my communities more than ever and have been reminded that we receive out of this life what we give.

So as I'm impatiently waiting for the muddy spring weather to finish doing it's thing, I'm reflecting on how grateful I am to have so many generous and caring people in my life and work. (Looking at you, hot stuff.)

With eight months left of 2025, here are eight local organizations I love to support, either with my time or financially.

They say April showers bring May flowers. Please join me in showering these beautiful organizations with some financial love so they can help the recipients of their services bloom.

1. Pilsen Food Pantry

What doesn't the Pilsen Food Pantry do not just for the neighborhood, but across Chicago? PFP distributes fresh food, clothing, and housewares and provides community events.

2. My Block My Hood My City

One of my absolute favorite groups to work with, MBMHMC does everything: Day-to-day operations and support for the community, including organizing snow shoveling and lawn care for elderly neighbors unable to do so. Youth programs to get kids engaged in the broader city, and a popular youth-led walking tour through historic North Lawndale. And the founder is currently on a six-year project to live for a month in each of Chicago’s 77 officially recognized neighborhoods. I take so much inspiration from this organization.

3. Brave Space Alliance

BSA has a robust center on the South Side that provides services, programs, and safe space for LGBQ+ and trans people to be centered and served. Programs include health screenings, support groups and mental health services, a food pantry, and housing help.

4. The Night Ministry

This org provides human connection, housing support, and healthcare to community members who are unhoused or experiencing poverty. They provide early intervention programs for folks on the edge of becoming unhoused. They also provide special programs for young adults to transition to permanent housing, while still helping them to enjoy being young and have a positive adolescent experience. Their Health Outreach Bus provides survival supplies, food, hygiene kits, clothing, and more.

5. One Tail at a Time

This beloved no-kill rescue org has so many branches of support for animals in need, at risk of being euthanized, or in unsafe environments. OTAT provides adoption and fostering, community support to help keep pets in homes and out of shelters, low-cost medical services including spay/neuter.

6. Open Books

We know I'm a voracious reader, and Open Books has the goods. As of writing, OB has three physical locations with books and events for all ages. All proceeds support literacy.

7. Urban Rivers

Did you know that there's a ramp for kayaking just off the REI at Goose Island? This floating oasis came to be thanks to the efforts of Urban Rivers! In addition to ecological work, they partner with the City of Chicago and various planning groups to create and maintain space on the river—dubbed Wild Mile—for all of us to enjoy for years to come.

8. Chicago Reader

While not a charity organization in the same vein as the above, the Reader is Chicago's alternative nonprofit newspaper. I have never been without a copy of the Reader in my bag since moving to the city. It's been my North Star for local news and culture, and many members of my community have been featured in articles over the years.

Since 2018, the Reader has been at risk of closing due to financial pressures, which would puncture a massive hole in our talented city’s arts coverage. This slinky kitty is happy to help keep the doors open and a free press free.

Ciao and meow from your Leonessa,

"You're just now realizing this, my love?" She laughed warmly and leaned forward again, resting her soft cheek on his shin.

"Are you ready for me to take care of you?" she murmured, nuzzling against him.

Was there any other answer but the one? He barely paused before responding.

"Yes, Elena."

This was the correct answer, apparently. He felt her smiling into his leg as she gently rubbed her face on him. Immediately his body felt as hot as the water.

Her hands gently dropped into the bowl, each one moving to take hold of one of his feet. She gave a few squeezes, and then started kneading. He hadn’t been aware that his feet were so tense. Her movements felt so good. He closed his eyes and let himself lean back against the chair.

She must have been watching him. No sooner did his head touch the chair than he felt one of her hands lightly slide up to the top of his foot, up his ankle, to his calf, her fingers languidly dragging up him. Some tickles and many pangs of arousal, her delicate touches making the skin tingle with electricity. Goosebumps. His eyes flew open and he jolted forward again so he could look.

She seemed to be suppressing a smile. “Was it something I did?” Wide-eyed. Feigning innocence.

Elena loved to tease him, and she was so good at it. He let out a quick breath. “You know what you did.”

“Was it this?” she asked, holding his foot in the water with one hand and bringing the other hand to cup it, first stroking it before dragging her nails up his leg, lightly scratching him up to his inner thigh. She paused to stroke and knead his thigh—he let out a groan, hips responding to her touch, she was so close—before she again traced her path down his leg and back into the water to his foot.

She gave his foot a few squeezes again before lifting it out of the water and to rest on the edge of the bowl. Taking the soap, she lathered it in the water before bringing it up his leg, running it slowly up and down, and then dropping it to finish lathering with her hands. She squeezed his legs, stroked as she moved, kneaded her fingers in deep before lightly feathering them across his skin…he was panting. Again his pleasure was torn between the simple bliss of her capable touch and the fervor created by her sensual hands.

She cupped her hands to gather water, and then opened them to let it waterfall down his leg, washing the soap away. Water was everywhere. Her front was soaked.

“Your dress is getting wet, Elena.” This was an understatement. The thin dress may as well not even be there for all it was doing, plastered against her smooth body. He could see her hard nipples. Her wet skin shimmered in the candlelight, drops of water rolling down her chest. Lucky them.

She shrugged as she continued working. “Yes, because of you. In fact, I wonder what else is wet because of you, my love.”

When his leg was rinsed, she placed it to the side of the bowl. She kissed his knee and looked up at him. He sucked in air as she moved to his other leg, again gently holding his foot with one hand as the other explored his frame. Caressing his leg, swirling her fingers in the water before swirling them over him. Kneading his body and teasing him every time she moved to his thigh, inching higher with every pass. Alternating deep, round compressions and feather-light grazes.

After rinsing the water away—truly, her dress was a wisp of a thought at this point—and placing his leg to the side, she slid the bowl out of the way and began dabbing his legs with a towel to dry them. The rubbing and patting were interspersed with wet kisses that he felt in spots she hadn’t even touched.

And then, blessedly, she leaned back and looked into his eyes as she slowly lifted her soaking garment over her head and tossed it aside.

He had thought he was seeing all of her before, but somehow the body revealed by taking off this thin suggestion of a dress felt like a completely novel experience. Her pale curves slid through the semi-darkness, reaching out to him. Candlelight illuminated sparkling droplets collecting in her collarbone, her cleavage, her thighs...marking exactly the spots he most wanted to kiss.

Elena reached for one of his legs and fully pressed against it. He moaned and struggled to focus his eyes on her though the lust. Like the room, his mind felt humid and hot.

He felt her wet mouth on him before he saw it, kissing his foot, licking up his ankle, stopping to suck on his calf. Her tongue flicking all over, making his formerly dry skin wet again, sizzling like water in a hot pan. She was making little moans of pleasure as she went, hot breath filling the spaces that her lips passed over. Hands running up and down like they would his shaft, twisting and gently squeezing. He felt consumed by her. Unbelievable.

In the midst of his haze of lust, he managed to sputter out a thought: “You’re not doing a very good job getting my feet clean.”

Her open mouth lifted into a smile as she continued licking him. He knew she loved to play.

“Well, that is just your opinion. But I feel differently.” The intensity of her mouth seemed to increase.

He groaned. He loved the sound of her mouth kissing him. She moved to his other leg, starting her ritual anew and kissing every inch of him. He found his toes in her mouth, his foot between her breasts, her fingers everywhere. He never realized how much there was to a leg until her mouth found it.

She finished her work by rubbing against his legs again, leaving each area touched by her warm, soft skin, just a whisper of her nipples as they moved over him. It was impossible to say how much time had passed. He suddenly remembered a distant past when he decided he wasn’t really into this kind of thing. If only he could have known…

She moved forward so that she was kneeling where the bowl had been, and then moved again, settling in even closer. He could not get enough of her before him; it was instinctively pleasurable to have her in between his legs. He finally leaned over to put the glass of bourbon down. It was almost as full as it was when she first handed it to him.

He sat back up. They spent a quiet moment just looking at each other contentedly.

“How do you feel, my love?” she finally asked.

He reached down to cup her face, kissing her forehead and those beautiful lips. She nipped his lip with hers.

“Elena…everything felt so good. That was amazing.” There really weren’t words for how he felt, if he was honest.

Smiling naughtily, she lay her cheek down on his thigh and licked the spot, then gave him a few kisses before moving to nest her face in his groin. She inhaled deeply.

“‘Was?’ Baby, we are not even close to being done.”

If you liked my story, consider sending me a little something to show your gratitude. I have to go take care of something else now…

Ciao and meow from your Leonessa,

Foot washing is a tradition practiced in many cultures and religions throughout history for various reasons, both sacred and practical. As I write this, we're coming up on Maundy Thursday, the fifth day of the Holy Week preceding Easter Sunday. I wouldn't call myself religious at this point, but like many from Italian families was of course raised under the specter of Catholicism and Catholic culture.

I've always loved religious iconography and art, even when I don't believe in it or have a personal connection to what's being depicted. Specifically for depictions of feet washing, my favorite is the possibly blasphemous Lady Gaga as Mary Magdalene in her 2011 music video for “Judas”, washing the feet of Judas and a Jesus-like figure.

I also don't have a particularly strong foot fetish. The act is less about fetishizing a part of the body and much more about worshiping a part of you, my love.

My story below is loosely based on experiences I've had. I hope to have many more. Would you like to be adored, washed, and decorated by a goddess? Reach out to me and let me gaze into you while we come clean.

He really hadn't planned on spending the day with Elena, but then, almost nothing about today had been planned. Lunch had been planned. He had picked out his outfit the evening before.

But as he looked down at Elena's beautiful face, with her soft eyes and full lips angled up towards him, everything else fell away and his entire body relaxed. Except for his lap, in truth, which felt tight. When she moved her warm hands up his bare calf, he gripped the glass in his hand just to release some of the tension. What universal forces had conspired to allow him to be here, melting in her hands?

After their meal, Elena had brought him back to the house. "I want to do something for you," she said and without waiting for his reply, led him into a warm, dim room, where the only light was coming from the glow of many candles. He noticed a large, ornate ceramic bowl in front of a plush chair. Elena pulled him to the chair, and then gently pushed him to sit down.

"I'll be right back," she smiled. "Maybe you would like something to drink? Tea, or bourbon?"

He chuckled. There was never any middle with her. "A bourbon would be nice."

She nodded and walked out of the room. The air felt thick, from the warmth and the darkness, certainly. But from something else, too...

He didn't have very long to ponder in silence. Music—something instrumental—started playing languidly out of an unseen speaker behind him. And just as suddenly as the music had started, Elena's figure filled the doorway, light from behind her illuminating her silhouette. It was immediately clear that there wasn't very much to the long dress she was now wearing. He could see its sheer outline creating an aura around her sensual body. And she was holding something. She slowly walked towards him.

A tray. On it, a small assortment of apothecary soaps and such items, towels, a large carafe...

"...and your bourbon," she said, finishing his thoughts and handing him the drink. He accepted the glass with a small nod and looked back at the tray, watching.

Elena bent to place the tray silently on the floor next to the bowl. He expected her to sit down, but instead she rose again and looked into his eyes. She stepped forward, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him, pressing into him. Her mouth was soft and hot.

Fuck this glass, he thought, hands automatically rising to cup her body. As he was considering just dropping the damn thing so both hands would be free, she slowly pulled away and motioned for him to stand. He did, and she deftly reached for his buckle and undid his belt and zipper, and slid his pants down, crouching as she went until she was kneeling in front of him. She looked up.

He inhaled deeply and audibly because he had stopped breathing.

Smiling, she helped him step out of his pants and put them aside. She exhaled, sounding pleased. "Sit down, my love. Rest," she said. He did, and she rose to kiss him again before stepping back in front of the bowl. She knelt down again. Miraculously, he still had the glass in hand.

She reached for the carafe and started pouring its contents into the bowl. There was steam—ah, hot water, that made sense. Elena picked up one of the pouches and shook what looked like salt into the bowl, stirring with her long fingers. An unidentifiable fragrance wafted through the air. Was it citrus, or just salt? Some flower?

"All of the above," she smiled coyly, "but don't worry about it, tesoro mio. What you should be thinking about is putting your feet in this water. Let me help you."

She placed her hands on his lower legs to guide them into the bowl, and the feeling of her fingers wrapped around him sent a pulsing wave of lust through his hips. The hot water was a welcome distraction. He settled in while she watched him. When he was still, she squeezed her hands, leaned forward, and kissed his knee, then his shin, then his other knee...he felt her tongue. She sighed; it sounded like a purr.

Elena pulled back and released her hands, reaching for another item. A bar of soap.

"You're washing my feet?" He let the question slip out without a thought.

"You're just now realizing this, my love?" She laughed warmly and leaned forward again, resting her soft cheek on his shin.

"Are you ready for me to take care of you?" she murmured, nuzzling against him.

Was there any other answer but the one? He barely paused before responding.

"Yes, Elena."

Part Two will be out later this week...

Ciao and meow from your Leonessa,

Of course, this extends to music. Although I have no musical talent to speak of—you’ll catch me singing softly a lot, though—music makes the day and moves it along. It’s maybe my favorite way to connect with others, next to touching, eating together, laughing…okay, so the list is long, but music is toward the top of it.

When we’re together, we might be listening to the scratchy, warm sounds pouring out of a record player, or we may be feeling the heavy, pulsing reverb from a speaker. But the point is, we’re going to be listening to something really good. (And no, the television does not count, unless of course it’s playing porn.)

The situation will dictate what feels right, but I’d love to share songs that I often grab from my myriad of playlists. Maybe you reach for some of the same?

[Listen along to the playlist here]

We’ve been talking, things are heating up, and suddenly we’re making out.

• “Cómo Me Quieres” - Khruangbin: Truly, it’s hard to pick just one song from this group. I’ve been lucky to see them live. Everything they put out feels so easy and effortlessly good.

• “Ungodly Fruit” - Wax Tailor: Love the idea of us dancing around each other both literally and metaphorically, feeling the other out while listening to the resonant instrumentals here.

• “Gooey” - Glass Animals: This music makes me curious for what’s going to happen next. “Black Mambo” is a vibe too.

• “If 6 Was 9” - Jimi Hendrix: I would say I have a Pavlov’s dog response to hearing this song where I’m going to be immediately and involuntarily aroused.

We’re discovering each other and just happen to be doing so while naked.

• “BOA” - Sam Gendel and Sam Wilkes: Instrumental and delicious. Amazing to have on in the background while we slowly undress.

• “Amor Fati” - Washed Out: Upbeat and energetic, like we are in this absolute swell of sparkling emotions as we come closer together and discover more and more.

• “BUS RIDE” - KAYTRANADA, Karriem Riggins, River Tiber: More easy instrumentals that take us away together. It’s just us in our bubble of heat and anticipation.

• “Promiscuità” - Thegiornalisti: About having group sex. In English, “…We talk on the neck, near the ear. There are ten of us, but the taste seems to be the same…”

We’re really going at it.

• “Breathe” - Kansh: My anthem for hitting it from the back.

• “What Do You Want from Me” - Pink Floyd: Tell me, baby.

• Most anything by Doja Cat: “Streets”, “Need to Know”, “So High”, “Agora Hills”…I mean you just cannot go wrong.

• “I Feel Like I’m Drowning” - Two Feet: This guy only knows how to use two chords in his songs but damn if they don’t pluck exactly the right strings.

We’re making love.

• Kaleidoscope Dream - Miguel: How does he do it? The entire record is such a flex, not a single bad song to have on in the background. My favorite song is probably “Do You…” but I’m always taken on a beautiful ride with each listen.

• “Gold” - Chet Faker: Dreamy, vibey, but with good vibration to match your rhythm to.

• “Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby” - Cigarettes After Sex: Ugh, this one always makes me cry.

• “I Need You” - Lynyrd Skynyrd: I have a full movie playing in my head when I hear this, and it’s sexy. I love the grit, the yearning, the lustful guitar, the way he only sounds more and more desperate…

  

We’re getting weird.

• “Sex - I’m a” - Lovage: Mike Patton forever. I’m a massive fan of all his work, but this whole album is great to laugh or furrow your brows to as well as to play when you’re horny.

• “Split” - Pixel Grip: Local Chicago band; I’m currently obsessed with their entire discography and have them on repeat for dancing.

• “Al buio un po’ mi perdo” - Venerus, MACE: This translates to “In the dark I get a little lost,” and actually the lyrics/subject matter aren’t really sexual. The beat however is drawn out and takes you somewhere else with it.

• “Be My Druidess” - Type O Negative: Peter Steele always got right to the point, grumbling, “I’ll do anything to make you come.”

We’ve lost track of time and all that matters is each other.

• Sans music / a capella: You know, amore, sometimes you want to hear everything. Sometimes peripheral sounds have such incredible weight and you don’t need anything else. The sound of our breathing mixing together and falling into rhythm. The sticky heat. Every slide and small shifting movement. Kisses slow and deep. Even the heavy, lingering eye contact communicates a cadence. And all of this rich sound is all we need.

Ciao and meow from your Leonessa,

But this isn't a free promo for FX or Hulu's offerings. It's a moment of peace to think about our beautiful city peeking its head above the cold frozen dirt and beginning to bloom.

I moved to Chicago years ago to reenergize and ultimately attend university, but found much more than I expected here. I am on intimate terms with this city, always feeling out treasures, both new and established. Do they need local ambassadors for the city? Sounds like an ideal job for yours truly.

Many of my peers and clients are gearing up for travel and touring as we head into spring, some of which will be bringing them here, to our big beating heart of a city. I'm sharing a few of my favorite date ideas for any kind of desire, of course to be followed with more private pleasures…

For the Refined Gentleman: The Clayton Cigar Shop + Deja Vu Showgirls

Enjoy a great smoke before taking in smoking hot babes, all enjoyed with me, your own personal smoke show.

For the Masochist: Zanie's Comedy Club + Gallucci Pizzeria

I'm being dramatic, but what better way to inflict a little pain on yourself by taking in a comedy show at this intimate venue where the performers are very likely to pick on us—they love folks on dates, we're easy targets—before tasting what I think is the most authentic Napoletano pizza in Chicago. It's so good it will haunt you long after the last bite.

For the Dive Bar Purist: City Pool Hall + Richard's Bar

A little competition makes for a hot primer, no? I'll be slinking around the table to "get a better angle" when I really just want to get closer to you.

Richard's is decidedly not terribly sexy, but as one of the last no-frills bars in Chicago complete with smoking permitted and the requisite jar of boiled eggs, it's something everyone who loves a great dive should experience. And frankly, I can make anything sexy.

For Sensation Chasers: Float Sixty Chicago + Obélix

In all areas of my life, I love to play with awareness and feeling. Close off your perceptive capabilities in a sensory deprivation tank before blowing them wide open again at lavish, full-flavor French restaurant Obélix.

For Activity Afficianados: Kayaking on Wild Mile + The Salt Shed

Let's get our bodies hot as we take in the unique gift of Chicago's river views, paddling along together, laughing and pointing out discoveries.

Afterwards, we can keep moving to the beat. Let’s jump or sway, bop or spin to the music of a favorite band at one of Salt Shed’s multiple stages, feeling our bodies in alignment and pulses raising together.

For the Recreational Indulgent: The Peninsula Spa + Neiman Marcus

Perhaps one of my favorite luxury spas in the city, a spa day at The Peninsula is perfect for when we just want everything brought to us. Cue the helpful attendant feeding us grapes and fanning us with palm leaves.

The only possible adventure we could need is a trip to Neiman's to further spoil ourselves before retreating to our nest.

I love when my dates express a particular interest, or even decide to plan our date. But it's very much a part of who I am to take care of those I'm with. I've always got something special in mind for us, amore.

Book our romp around the city here.

Ciao and meow from your Leonessa,

“Lunch was really great. The food is always good there, and the weather was nice. Did you like your food?”

You are saying these things to me but I am not comprehending any of it. With our eyes locked, it occurs to me that you don’t even realize what you’re saying. The heavy, round lust is screaming in my ears and blocking out everything else. Perhaps it’s the same for you.

We had our first meeting today, a little late afternoon lunch date. You brought me to one of your favorite spots, a cozy place with generous pours and a patio because the weather was unseasonably warm. If I could string my thoughts together, I would agree to everything you’re saying; it’s all true.

But I cannot, because all I can think about is kissing you. The anticipation is a fog around everything other than my deep physical desire.

At lunch, the wine and the sunshine quickly did their job, casting a dreamy haze on the scene. We were never seated very far apart, but still I kept moving slowly closer to you. First just to feel our sides touch, then so I could turn towards you and bridge the distance, running my hands lightly over yours and feeling a thrill when you closed your hand around my roaming fingers to hold them in place. Laughing when our meal arrived and we needed our hands to eat. Did we eat? I don’t even remember, I was so distracted…

We didn’t finish our wine at lunch, so afterwards we corked the bottle and toted it back to our nest. The walk was either the shortest or the longest I’ve ever taken, I really couldn’t say. Our fingers kept intertwining, your hand kept snaking around my waist to pull me to you. Except I never strayed very far in the first place.

Each moment, from opening the building’s front door to closing our own, was heightened. I was acutely aware that we were moving toward inevitable togetherness, led back home not by conscious thought but by muscle memory.

When we entered our rooms, we gravitated to relax in the lounge. No, relax isn’t really the right word, both being so taut in the other’s company. I padded across the room to retrieve glasses for us and feel your eyes on my body. Returning to you, I pour the rest of the bottle for us. As I sat next to you, I handed you a glass and our fingers touch. We looked up from the glass to each other.

And now we’re here, very much the calm before the storm. You asked me a question but I’m burning up. I nod and smile, knowing my eyes are hungry as they look into yours. I bite my lower lip. You notice, your eyes flicking down. You say quickly,

“Yeah, I had a great time. And I know I said it before, but you really look so beautiful—”

I’m on you, my full lips landing softly on yours before you can finish. I guess I didn’t realize that as soon as I sat down, I was moving towards your mouth with mine. We stay breathlessly pressed together for a few long seconds before parting with a slow drag, because we need to put these glasses down.

We do, and in a flash, we’re back against each other, lips finding one another’s again. Your hands are holding my small waist, gently kneading and squeezing my body. Mine are cupping your face, roaming down your neck and across your shoulders and back again. It’s not enough.

I slowly slide my leg over yours and straddle your hips, facing you. You groan in my ear and cup my chin, pulling me toward you so you can catch my lips with yours, then slide your hands down my sides, my waist, resting on my hips for a moment before moving to my thighs. Everywhere you touch vibrates. I wrap my arms around your neck and inhale your warmth, I am so aroused and swept away by this waves of this endless moment. You feel incredible.

Our kisses are much deeper now, and wet. The sound of our lips moving together, of our tongues pulsing as they explore, hot and heavy breath in between it all, is heady to the point that I feel the world tilting on its axis.

I bite your lip and you pull me against you harder as you dip me backward and nip at my neck. After you right us, I return the favor by gently sucking on your neck and softly biting up to your ear, pull on your earlobe, explore with my soft tongue as I moan in your ear. I make my way across your jaw with kisses, back to your lips.

My hips have been grinding in time to our slow kisses. We are moving unhurriedly, but I am completely out of breath. Every move pulls a small moan out of me. I’m both overwhelmed with pleasure and utterly insatiable.

Somewhere in the room, a clock chimes, announcing the hour. We pull apart and look off vaguely toward the sound, and then back at each other. Has it been that long?

We exchange a small smile with swollen lips, and dive in for more.

Ciao and meow from your Leonessa,

In typical Elena fashion, I've waited until 2025 was ripe to share my Bingo Card for the year.

What can I say? I can live on the edge and still hedge a bit. (Aka, procrastinate.)

Below are experiences that I'm looking forward to this year. See something that's on your list, too? Let's cross it off together.

1. Football Game: American, that is. I've been to my share of soccer football games, but I've never seen a Bears game.

2. Ride a Horse: In my youth, I loved clip-clopping my little toy horses around their popsicle-stick stable. As a woman, I aspire to be like Lady Godiva. I'm often nude so that's covered, now I just need the horse...

3. M-M-F and/or Cuck Scene Duo: More to come on this, but recently I've had several potent fantasies brewing of acting out a cuckold scene, or having a threesome with a 2:1 cock-to-pussy ratio with a client. It's been a minute! If this is up your alley, I've got all the ingredients, just missing you. 💋

4. Meal at Alinea: I guess because I know it's always there, I've sadly ignored Alinea. This is the year I'm finally going to go. Come pop the cherry with me.

5. Sensory Deprivation Tank: Truly something I don't know if I'll love or hate. But it's a singular experience that I just can't get out of my mind.

6. A Warm FMTY: I am the creamiest little pale person alive, but that doesn't mean I don't love Vitamin D. (Yes yes, make your jokes.) I am dreaming of somewhere sandy and warm, somewhere requiring minimal clothing...

7. Motorcycle Date: Let's reenact The Place Beyond the Pines. I'll be the Eva Mendes to your Ryan Gosling. Just the motorcycle scenes, though, ideally not the rest of it.

8. Boating on Lake Michigan: I'm embarrassed that in my years here, I haven't done this. I like to think I've made up for it on other (and saltier) bodies of water.

9. Watch F1 in IMAX: F1 comes out this summer, and for someone who doesn't follow racing, I am ridiculously excited, mostly because I am a moth to the flame for Daddy Bardem.

10. Concerts: I'll listen to anything and everything, and that's doubly true when it's live. 2025 already has a lot of touring artists. Some big names coming to town:

• April - Nick Cave, Empire of the Sun, Charli XCX

• June - Kendrick Lamar & SZA, Dave Matthews, Weird Al, Tyler, the Creator

• August - System of a Down, Oasis and Cage the Elephant

11. Camping: Do you have a favorite camping locale? I'm taking suggestions for the Midwest, across the US, and globally. I'm convinced I would love to be camping more. We'll see. Glamping counts too! (Though I don't think I care to post up on a balcony.)

12. Learn to Drive Stick Shift: Why don't I know how to do this.

13. Host a Provider Meetup: In my day-to-day, I'm active in community work and organizing. I hope to bring that spirit to friends new and old in the provider scene since we're such a fun bunch, truly the more, the merrier. If you'd like to sponsor a luncheon for us, you'd make my heart (among other things) throb.

14. Hot Air Balloon: Just for giggles. I’m not really a high-heights person but apparently this can be quite romantic.

15. Bench press over 95 lbs / 43 kilos: This one is killing me—I'm lean and lithe, what the hell! This year I will finally get over the hump with lifting. I've been stuck at 85 lbs / 38 kilos for months.

16. Public Performance: In jest, I have long said I'm an artist without a performative talent. I don't actually know if that's true. I’ve given many a presentation and speech, but I would love to try an open mic as an amateur singer or comedienne. What have I got to lose?

Ciao and meow from your Leonessa,

Technically it is the start of spring, what with the equinox happening on the 20th here in the US. But it doesn't really feel like spring, rather just a different flavor of wintry and raw.

Ma dai, di questo passo arriviamo alle calende greche. (Essentially, "At this rate, we'll never be done with this.")

Luckily, I know how to generate some heat. I'm a kinetic person, always on the move, always consuming something, literally or metaphorically.

Here's what’s keeping me flushed right now:

Sports

Now, I am the most casual sports fan except when it comes to professional basketball. I’m an NBA purist and generally pass on college ball.

However, March Madness is a few short weeks away. For me, it’s almost like ringing in a new year where I resolve to care more about college basketball for the other 50 weeks of the year and then inevitably fail shortly after celebrations have died down.

Who am I rooting for? Anyone with spirit, that's who. I have no allegiance to any school and will simply bandwagon with the team that has the most pizzazz, or the most tears of joy/sorrow shed.

What does my bracket look like? I have several and they’re all a mess, thanks for asking. I'll just take the participation award.

All this to say: March is already a blast. If you want to be court side—plenty of games in the Midwest!—or just enjoy the tournament cuddled up in our own basketball-sized bubble (wait, that's not very big now, is it?) I'm your girl.

Activities

• A lot of cat/cow and stretching to shake off the chills.

• It’s an open secret that one of the best places to feel warmth and life all winter long in Chicago is the Garfield Park Conservatory. I’ve been making the trek there regularly this season, feeling inspired and rejuvenated and…

Oh. The universe is sending me a message, it would seem. I don’t need to be told twice. Join me for a date here?

Books (StoryGraph @elenamarchetti)

• Fun-for-all-ages pick: Harry Potter series. I am flying through these, currently on Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. I forgot how good the story lines are, not just in the individual books but across the series as a whole. Also forgot how much of a Hermione I have always been.

• Doomscroll pick: The Shock Doctrine by Naomi Klein. Tough read because we are currently seeing this strategy deployed at its full force.

• Nerd pick: Fatale series by Ed Brubaker and Sean Phillips. I'm a noted graphic novel lover. This one is if a sexy 1940s noir met gory Lovecraftian horror. It's equal parts an alluring mystery and just gross, and takes place over multiple time periods. Love.

Now tell me—do you need a stretching partner to help you warm up? You know who to call.

Ciao and meow from your Leonessa,

I wouldn't call myself shy in the least, but I prefer that my life be off-the-record. I take painstaking efforts to keep my digital footprint in all areas of life as light as possible. I'd rather be known to a smaller but deeply intimate audience and enjoy the expression and nuance that those private, offline experiences allow. If you prefer the warm glows of candlelight or the moon to that of a computer screen, you and I will get along perfectly.

Privacy and security are a lifestyle, and I wear it well. Here's how I keep our time together as ours:

1. Pre-Screening

All potential paramours must screen before each date, and this practice is non-negotiable. This minimal personal information ensures that we have a baseline of safety and trust for everyone's comfort.

2. Secure (and Encrypted) Communications

Any and all communications we may have are sensitive, meaning that I use services and practices to keep them safeguarded.

For email, I use ProtonMail. If both the sender and the recipient are using ProtonMail, it's an end-to-end (E2E) encrypted email experience. It's free and I encourage its use in planning our play over other platforms like Google or Microsoft.

For texting, I use Signal as much as possible. Like ProtonMail, if we're both using Signal, it's E2E as well. It's available for iPhones and Androids, doesn't log IP Addresses, logs minimum amounts of data in general, and messages are set to disappear.

Additionally, I do not call or text without your prior approval.

3. Data Deletion

As soon as our date has passed, your screening information and all other sensitive or otherwise identifying communications are deleted. And then I delete those deleted items so that my trash isn't holding any unsavory secrets. (Besides wrappers loudly revealing that I can't quell my loves for anything made with puff pastry or for extra-dark chocolate with sea salt, my culinary Achilles' Heels.)

4. Offline Conduct

When we're out, it's likely that I'll be noticed. It's just what happens to bewitching women like myself, can't be helped.

So while I'll stand out, it will never be for the wrong reasons. Be assured that I'll be dressed alluringly but appropriately for the setting, and that how I act and speak in public will betray nothing except that I'm flush with excitement to be in your company.

5. Photos

You'll find that I'm happy to ditch the devices during our time together. We have all we need right in front of us.

During our dates, I may take photos of myself, the ambiance, or the location. Most times, these are memories for myself, but sometimes I won't be able to resist posting them on social media. When I do post, photos are posted long after we've left the scene, and also so that the location is public and unrecognizable. Any specifics of you or other identifying information are left out.

6. Sharing of Identifying Information

I don't kiss and tell, period. This goes for verbal, written, or other communications as well as our experiences. These juicy lips are sealed.

I miei amanti are always welcome to ask about my security protocols, they are always evolving. Preferably followed by a sensual, relaxing—and, yes—private time.

Ciao and meow from your Leonessa,

Some of the posts are quite poetic. Every once in a while I will swear I know who the author is referring to. And sometimes, I’m glad just to be a voyeur.

It’s not all blueberries and paper airplanes, I suppose.

One reason I love Valentine’s: The abundance of sweets. I have a heady sweet tooth, it simply cannot be tamed. I’m really of the mindset that if you don’t finish a wonderful meal with an espresso/digestivo/dessert wine and a little *something*, did you even eat? And so on this hallowed holiday, society doesn’t have to hem and haw about being too full or staying a bit longer for the final note. I never do, and I luxuriate in our collective heat-filled lingering. And in any case, dessert is rarely the last thing we’ll be enjoying together.

Quick stats:

• Reading: I love smut in all forms and kicked off my holiday with The Sweetest Oblivion. The main character and I have so much in common: Named Elena, Italian, and impossibly horny. Art imitating life.

• Eating: French nougat candy from Provence, enough to wonder if my dentist will be able to tell at my upcoming cleaning. I’m a dark chocolate girl through and through but the texture of this is delightful. Thanks, M.

• Listening: Obviously, it has to be FKA Twigs’ latest.

• Dreaming of: Heat, damn it, in any form. The sky is blue, winter is cold, I know I know. But clothes and I, we are like oil and water when in private. It’s nearly too cold for that behavior, unless I’m cuddling someone…

This Valentine’s, I was tickled to be invited by my date to Teatro ZinZanni. I love a show with interactive props, a schtick, and a bottle menu, and this one did not disappoint. My biggest takeaway was that in another life, I was certainly meant to be flying through the air in a sequined leotard. It was dazzling, veramente.

I don’t need to be told twice to slide into a seat for a photo op. Sitting on this bicycle misrepresenting itself as a motorcycle reminded me of something, however: I’m dreaming of a date on a motorcycle. Certainly not in this wind and cold! But pencil me in for better weather, il mio tesoro. I love to press close when we ride and look excellent from behind.

As always, I am full of gratitude for my generous paramours and look forward to treating each of our coming meetings like it’s a cultural observance of love. <3

Ciao and meow from your Leonessa,

What a time to be alive! And what a time to be adding myself to Chicago's robust—and busty—companion and provider scene.

I'm Elena, so thrilled to make your acquaintance. While I'm in the process of pulling myself together—making sure all my bits are securely fastened, selecting my profumo del giorno, kissing my little dog on the top of his sweet head as I sail out the door...oh and getting my website up, sheesh—I thought it may be fun to pen a little piece about the heart beating underneath the delectable lingerie.

Here are four fun facts to start us off on the right foot:

One: I'm a writer.

Reading is and always has been a major source of education and fun in my life. I read anything and everything—please follow me on StoryGraph if so inclined!

In that same vein, writing comes naturally to me. I love to journal, craft pieces for myself and others, and write little stories and scenes. The latter actually comes in handy often for my kink explorations. I'm told my scenes are quite detailed and evocative.

Feeding my love of writing is my love for fine writing instruments and stationery. I'll always take handwritten over typed.

It's possible that I'll be offering writing-based experiences in the future. All of the spicy scenarios I dream up should be read—or better yet, experienced—by someone...

Two: I am a certified massage therapist (CMT).

Some of us are doing the Lord's work each day at desk jobs, running society by attending virtual meetings, sending off emails and whatnot as part of the knowledge economy. And I thank those people because they keep me in business!

In truth, everyone needs a good stretch and to feel connected and rejuvenated. I started in massage therapy because I'm a handsy gal as it is, and I found that the power and pleasure of touch is a recurring theme in my life. Lucky for you, I adore sharing that gift of experience with the masses.

I'll be offering massage packages in the near future, please stay tuned.

Three: L'Italia ha il mio cuore. — Italy has my heart.

Like many of us, I go about my day to day dreaming of travel. And while there's few places I wouldn't go, there's one country that will never stop pulling me in like so much sweet sfogliatelle dough: Italia.

I am Italian-American—not of the Carmela Soprano variety, bless her—and so grateful to have strong connections to my family in Italy and Italian friends stateside, speak the language, and have traveled to many parts of that small but beautiful country.

I do not pretend to be the best at Italian cooking, however secondo me, la mia carbonara è da morire. Perhaps you can be the judge? Alternatively, let's go to my favorite Italian restaurants here in Chicago and let the pros wow us.

You'll find me always itching to get back to Italy. Raise your hand if Italy is your retirement plan! And that retirement would ideally start...next week.

Four: I am notoriously off social media...but that is changing!

One of my 2025 goals was to be more present online, which is hilariously the exact opposite goal for many of my peers. But I'm a lover of community, culture, and connection, all things that are in abundance on The Internet, so here I am.

You will find me across many channels, truly a daunting increase from last year! Let's have some fun.

• meetelenamarchetti.com

• Twitter / X

• BlueSky

• Substack

• StoryGraph

Phew! It's a treat and a trial to write about yourself, many thanks for reading. I'm very much looking forward to meeting this year and hearing about you, tesoro mio.

Con amore,