Becoming

I'm often asked, by friends and lovers alike, if I have always loved sex. The answer is a resounding yes.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been captivated by desire - by fantasy, chemistry, and the subtle thrill of the unknown. In my corporate days, I played the part of the polished professional: pencil skirt, measured poise, thigh-highs hidden just beneath the surface. But beneath that surface lived a woman with a vivid, untamed curiosity - one that grew bolder with every whispered thought and secret glance.

What began as fascination became pursuit. Before long, I was slipping out of the office, heart racing, not toward obligation but indulgence - toward stolen evenings, hotel rooms lit by city skylines, and shared secrets with strangers I’ll never forget. I still remember walking into the office that first morning after, skin tingling with memory, heels echoing down the corridor while no one knew a thing. That duality? Exhilarating.

Becoming Sydney wasn’t a strategic decision - it was a sensual unfolding. I didn’t arrive here by accident, but I also didn’t follow anyone else’s map. Sydney is a woman born of desire, not necessity. If I accept your invitation, it’s because I want to be there - curious, excited, and very much along for the ride. And really, what’s more enticing than a co-conspirator who can’t wait to see you?

Both versions of me have taken me around the globe, but it’s here in Australia that I’ve chosen to stay. The lifestyle, the light, the coastline that seems to stretch on forever - it suits me. My days begin with a view of the city skyline from my bed. My apartment, just minutes from the CBD, is equal parts sanctuary and playground.

As someone who delights in undressing, I’m often asked what I love most about what I do. It’s a question I can never answer with just one thing. It’s the intimacy. The connection. The quiet gasp of a man. The thrill of breaking routine - with a stranger, far from home. It’s the crescendo of touch, the heady dance of breath and skin, It’s the slow peel of clothing. The way I feel under a lover’s gaze - or under two

These moments - Sydney’s moments - are electric. They’re mine. And while I may not know what the future holds, one thing is certain: I’m not ready for the music to stop.