Buying a cake with sex money

It’s been really weird lately.  I’ve started to see the benefits of the money i’ve made from escorting.  All my life i’ve been watching my friends with children buy things without a care in the world.  I’ve heard them go on about this benefit and that benefit; they seriously have so much disposable income per month that they actually profit from having a child and only working a minimum number of hours.  There i am working 70 plus hours per week, accessorising the hell out of a wardrobe, to the point of some days choosing just not even bother hahaha, getting naffed off with a crap piece of toast so learning to cope with one meal per day that usually constitutes pasta when i drop through the door at half ten at night.

I’d love to give them the honest reply when they ask me how i seem to keep so slim when they can’t …  i have to actually ‘do’ my supermarket shop and spend time worrying about how to pay for it (let alone be able to afford the food itself) – it doesn’t get delivered to my door.  But of course no one is as tired and as hard done to as them because they have a child, so i keep my mouth closed and just continue loving them as my best buddies in silence instead because that’s just what we do.

But!!!  But the shopping they do – they, my friends, they just go out and buy, there’s no pause, not thought, it’s just: i need so i get… i’ve always yearned for that.  Being single and childless and working full time with a career does not pay off.    The looking at the menu and just choosing what they want because they like the food that they like.  Me, i -choose the food because it will bring the overall bill down that i will inevitably have to pay a shared portion of.  Because they get so much financial help for the child they will go all out, no expenses sparred for them and i’m thinking – jeepers, this child’s bill for one meal is more than what i spend on a week’s shop.  I’m not being mean or judgmental of people claiming benefits at all – this is the reality: in this situation, they ate well and i went home, carried on working my ass off and  lived off tinned celery soup for three days.

Any way – NOT ANY MORE.  For the first time in my life, i spent money on what i needed, as i needed it…without worry.  I’ve busted a gut working five jobs at a time to get a first class honors degree then working as a professional at the top of my game and the only time i’ve ever been able to buy what i need without any worry is when i – SELL MY SELF FOR SEX.  What the hell does that say.  Don’t bother working hard and getting qualified – have a child or be a hooker!!  Yayyyy, of all the lessons i’ve learned, though all of my insightful lectures and thesis writing – THIS IS THE MOST ENLIGHTENING.  *BE*A*HOOKER* and you don’t have to eat celery soup ever again.

Anyway, funny as it may seem, i was sat in the cafe with my little niece and her mummy, my sister.  Surrounded by other mummies with their little ones, grandmas and families all enjoying the nice weather on a little break in the sun.  We were at the seaside, the promenade dotted with little cafes and shops.  I decided to treat my niece and her mummy, lets order cake and tea, sandwiches; whatever we fancy really.  As we sat there with afternoon tea cakes on saucers i couldn’t help but contrast the prettily iced, with a smooth glazed cherry on the top, bun with the task that i had undertaken to pay for it.  I looked round and looked at the mundane mumminess – to me there was nothing yummy mummy about it.  Benefits … they can have, i’d rather have the financial benefits of fucking their bored husbands.  Oh the sweet taste of kama and just deserts; i thought as i plucked that juicy cherry from the cake and felt it pop in my mouth…now that’s how i enjoy making my money.

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No. 1 Hooker Rule: don’t start fancying your client …. no matter how H.O.T

Wow…soooo fucking tasty!!  I have to share and relish the ‘urge to merge’ hahaha.

As a hooker, you act – that’s all.  Like i’ve said before, it’s purely the mechanics of sex; a cock in in a vagina and a little bit of ohh-ing and ahhh-ing.  It’s not deceptive because don’t forget men are not emotionally attached to sex like women are (again, based on the no-bullshit, say it as it is realness, assumptions of ‘most’ men and women  for which i don’t apologise for because it’s true).  Don’t get me wrong, i’m quite a gifted ohh-er and ahhh-er.  In fact, if there was an oscar prize for the role of:  best female slut – i’d own it!  “I, just want to say a huge thanks to my parents, who without them i would have no one to make so proud every day for the number of men i can quite effortlessly move through.  I’d also like to thank all of the assholes that have allowed me to realize my ambition of becoming a complete slut and their wives who happily refuse them sex.”  As we see – there is no lack of complete drama here.

So, as i’ve said before ‘hooker-sex’ is totally different to sex with someone you have a relationship with.  I’m not talking about a ‘conventional’ relationship, simply because sex inside of a conventional relationship generally tends to be shit and more obligatory than ‘hooker sex’.  So, if you see the same client regularly, there is the chance that you build up a ‘relationship’ with them to some degree…sometimes, but not always, this translates across into the sex and when this happens – mechanics switch to pure animal nature.

That transition is not gradual, it’s like – BANG!  So instant that it’s like a hit of addictiveness.  So distinct and instantaneous that i can account to exactly when that WOW-bomb hit and landed in wet-want-you-now lady-land.  I’d just finished giving his cock some very slow and tentatively teasing attention, whilst looking up to capture the most intense lustful eye-locking glances in between his eyes rolling back and closing in complete ecstasy.  Those moments, where his eyes broke their gaze with mine, that was the moment i felt his entire body to become owned by all consuming pleasure that i was creating.

But…that WASN’T ‘thee’ moment.  That moment came when i laid my body over his, feeling his hard yet juicy cock on my tummy, just inches in front of where i wanted it to be deep inside, and met my lips with his.  The way they came together and just ‘didn’t move’ just …. just … were connected in the most horniest, yummiest and tastiest connection.  WOW.  Who is providing who with the service here…?  Hahaha!

There’s nothing to say that a hooker cant enjoy and experience pleasure with a client – but this was just something … er …else.  As i’ve said so many times, escorting is a fast and furious learning curve. The rule that was broken here wasn’t enjoying things a little too much, but was actually letting it change the fundamentals of a client-escort relationship.  This is the biggest and easiest mistake to make in escorting because the service is in the form of something that instinctively natural in humans – sex.  However, as humans we also have the intelligence and will power not to cross lines no matter how organically natural they are.

We met outside of the arranged meets and had sex.  We enjoyed the people we were…well, i did.  Don’t get me wrong, i enjoyed my time with him because we had fun and not because i had what people refer to as ‘feelings’ for him.  Fun is a feeling, but the term, develop ‘feelings’ is typically used by most people to infer the notion of love or falling in love – it was never that.  He on the other hand had issues with not paying for sex, because he felt that this made it an ‘affair’ and that this was cheating; where as fucking a hooker isn’t.  Hashtag – Whatever!

I may be well acquainted with the dick – but i am not one.  His need to ‘pay’ for sex was not to spare his wife the hurt of betrayal and cheating – it was instead a way of rationalising behaviour that is fucking devastating for any woman whatever the reason behind it.  There were other reasons behind his need to pay for sex, all of which were selfish and existed to serve him only.  He can’t be assed with any emotional investment yet he doesn’t believe he should have to pay for sex because, like most males, they are full of expectancy and self-entitlement.  Another complete dickhead perspective – men can’t deal with women making more money than them because money is power… how ironic that it is their weakness and addiction that provides women with a platform for generating money to an extent that they will never be able to compete with.

So, he doesn’t want an affair and he doesn’t want to pay for sex – talk about wanting it all on your own terms … he’s actually created a desire for something that doesn’t exist.

One of the reasons for being single is to harden myself to the reality of how selfish men are and cut myself off from the impact of their egocentrism.  I can ruthlessly cut off any man who just doesn’t offer me anything anymore.  I certainly know i got what i wanted; why can women not want and seek red hot sex…but now, now he’s served his purpose i’m able to cut him off.  The reply to his next Whatsapp will be:

Done, dusted … it was good while it lasted.

Nexttttt!!! Hahaha.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A hooker will keep your secrets and never judge…

There is the notion that sometimes men ‘just want to chat’… while that’s just NOT TRUE, there are times when a hooker’s job is much more than just pure animal instinct fulled sex.

Regardless to whether or not you believe it, all men come to me with a mindset that they have already built and perfected – their way of rationalizing and normalizing coming to see a hooker.

But what i have learned about being an escort is that every man’s reasons for paying for sex are different.  That’s not to say that i’m retracting from my statement that all (most) are  the same in the sense of being hard wired to seek sex … but i have learned that the path that they tread is not the same – in fact, how they ended up seeking the services of an escort can be so strikingly different.

One thing I’ve learned myself is that the role of an escort is much more than just sex.  Men open up to their escort; they’ve really already broken taboo by paying for sex … so often they are already very open and there is a degree of ‘escapism’ involved with every meet that further encourages them to open up.

I have found myself listening to the most heartbreaking stories, of which i won’t repeat, from men who are not married, who are not cheating and never have and who have such deeply inspiring stories to tell.  All of this is openly shared during the usual conversation that starts with: “So, what made you get into this?”

I never judge, never delve deeper…i just listen.  There can be no emotional aspects to escorting on either part but there have been some very emotional stories behind what shapes some men’s paths towards meeting with an escort.

Some of the reasons are just emotionally draining for me, even though i can’t show it.  I am only human.  In a way, you’re paid to be an ‘object’ … something that doesn’t answer back, doesn’t demand anything, doesn’t need anything.  It’s only now that i have just realized that i naturally referred to myself as a ‘something’.

Of course, the reason a lot of men give, if any, as most are actually so well self-deluded by their own warped little rationalizations that they happily pass by full of entitlement, is that their ‘wife is just not interested’.  I believe them, after all… they don’t need to tell me anything and the revelation is hardly even that.

I really wish i could share some of the reasons that men do choose to pay for sex, to explain the look and hurt that is genuinely and evidently on their faces as they unveil their stories; i wish i could because it would help to show that at least IN THIS ONE WAY…not all men are the same.  But i simply feel bound to keep those stories in my heart and mind.

In any case, even when the focus is upon spending time with a man and ‘just talking’, i can’t think of any that still don’t expect sex.  Sex – it all comes down to sex …

 

 

 

 

Spicing things up!

Last weekend i spent a whole day updating my escort profile.  Firstly, was the photoshoot… basically a set of photos taken by myself.  I emptied all of my secret sexy box and scattered the contents across my dressing room.  Back seam stockings and suspender belts strewn across my vintage french armoire  dresser, Agent Provocateur’s finest dotted my whitewash floorboards and  a selection of tiny panties lay over the back of my office desk and chair … but there was something missing.

After admiring my stream of very erotic and explicit photos, i popped the kettle on and began to think.  I need to make things much clearer.  I’m sick of wasting time weeding out those clients that i wouldn’t ever entertain and finding those who are actually worthy.  A list of ‘don’t dos’:  1. i don’t do car meets 2. i don’t do ‘quickies’ 3. i don’t do swo (sex without protection)….. I DON’T, I DON’T, I DON’T.  What i expect:  1. i expect notice  2. i expect payment up front 3. i expect respect and consideration 4. i expect you to turn up on time.  Rules:  1. don’t contact me unless you absolutely want to meet up, if you’re still thinking about if it’s for you- contact me when you’ve made your mind up 2. absolutely NEVER ask me to provide a discount as it will be received as an insult – if you need to ask me, you can’t afford me … there are many of other escorts who will oblige at a cut-rate cost – i do not 3. you must maintain scrupulous levels of cleanliness at all times and always smell luxurious FAQs: 1. why do i not have reviews?  I am not a tourist attraction not a well used product – so i don’t come with reviews … if hundreds of reviews are what assure you – then there are hundreds of escorts with thousands of reviews.

What a bitch!!! I thought.  What a stuck-up bitch.  But it’s me and what you see is what you get …  here in my beautiful home, offering the use of my facilities and complete discretion…there was no way i was about to put up with any silly men who get a kick out of contacting a hooker and then never actually having any intention of finding the balls to meet up – let along pay the money for it.  After taking the time to reflect upon how refreshing it was to lay the law down, i submitted the updates to my profile along with my new show-reel.  I sat back and took the last sip of my tea – all done and about time.

“Do you dominate?”  : one after the other enquiries came, with requests ranging from bottom spanking to taking a little doggie for walkies and providing tummy tickles.  Suddenly, something resonated … my strong and authoritarian professional role suddenly didn’t seem so conflicting compared to my new secret life as an escort.  And you know what was even more surprising … just how naturally i assumed the role of Mistress Lucy.  Very naturally came my organically raw reply:  “If you’re lucky enough, then i might let you lick my boots and if i find you pathetic enough i might even spend some time laughing at you wearing my silky panties, which you will love and be so grateful for… and -it’s Mistress to you.”

The sub/dom culture is very complex.  It’s a totally different sexual mindset to ‘can we meet for a 15 minute quickie’.  It’s a man who knows what he likes and has a deep desire to fulfil some very erotic needs.  With the same token, a femme dominatrix is a also a deeply intricate  and sexy persona.  You can have a ‘pro’ dom and a ‘personal’ dom … basically one that works as a professional dom assumes the role of a dominatrix in a professional capacity for the duration of an arranged play session.  A personal dom will assume the role of a dominatrix as a life choice so a play session will become an exercise as part of a life relationship.  I soon realised that although there was an obvious and almost innate attraction to this type of lifestyle, i would have to invest time into ensuring that i do justice to this very complex culture.  I also realised that i would be a newbie!

I have spent this weekend compiling a very kinky shopping list and enjoyed every minute – from floggers, collars, cuffs and all sorts of toys to full body catsuits, latex dresses, gloves and stockings.  This is my new project.  The sheer volume of requests for appointments has really overwhelmed me and it’s showing me even more, with each passing week, that i cannot physically do both this and my professional work.  But with no corporate assholes, regulations, boring meetings and rules and at least seven times the income and seven times less working hours – i think i know which way i’m headed.

Being a dominatrix is actually something to aspire to, something that you can perfect like a pro – finally a challenge.  It would seem that Mistress Lucy has been born…watch this space….

 

Should i ever stop fucking your husband…?

Fucking a married man …

Am i ashamed of ‘what i do’?  No – has always been the answer to this every time i have written.  I’m ashamed of the reality of the situation as it is … but i certainly do not take responsibility for it and so could never be sorry.

Men.  They will say, ‘we’re not all the same’.  Hmm i really do have to say that the very high majority are and i can see this reality so clearly every single day.  So let’s cut that shit out for starters, i’m not here to faff over the technicalities.  Furthermore,  I really don’t give a shit as to the debate surrounding whether or not they ‘can help it’… and, bear with me here, guys…this post is not about attacking you but before we can get ‘real’ about this, let’s agree that i’m not the type of girl to sit and make excuses for anyone – male or female.  So, ladies, with the same token we have to accept the fact that women cheat too … but not on the same scale as men  – plus, that’s not what this blog is about…please feel free to read a different blog if you’d like to read about unfaithful women -simple, right!

I hear my friends saying: well if the women refused to cheat with them then they couldn’t cheat – no, no and fucking NO.  That is so idealistic.  They, the person cheating, is the only person responsible for THEIR actions.  There is nothing that any other person can do, or not do, that will ever change that.

Heartbroken- the sheer fucking devastation to find that the man you have shared your life with has cheated.  Fucking awful.  How do i know; because it’s happened to me.  Should i therefore know better than to enter into a job that involves fucking married men?   No – because nothing that’s happened to me; nothing that’s happening to me; nor anything that will happen to me will stop the reality that is.  Most men are selfish fucking twats.

I believe in building women up but i don’t believe that a universal world-wide womanhood pledge, never to sleep with a taken man, is going to be a: realistic nor b: a solution.

You say that my job makes me bias, no.  You may say that my job means that i’m more likely to come into contact with ‘that type of man’ and so my viewpoint is warped.  I say no to that too.  I say no because before i started escorting, i my experience so far had taught me what (most) men are like.  There are only two men in my life that were wonderful and truly amazing: my grandad and my great uncle; both are sadly not here anymore.  They were from a different generation.  Men are not just different now but the world is different.

So the cheated woman cries, screams, shouts, gets vengeful …yes, all of those things.  But again, these are all outsider perspectives of the scorned woman; women are denied the right to be fucked off, furious, livid and seething.  They are denied it again for selfish reasons; because society can’t be arsed with it – so they stigmatize it: she’s a bitter twisted, psychopath that can’t move on…no wonder he cheated.  BANG.  Don’t get me wrong, although women are entitled to feel this way, after a while it becomes boring and there has to be the ability to move on.  Not move on to prove to others that you’re moving on – but just MOVE ON in real terms, live your fucking life…the loser is not worth it – whatever!

If we’re to talk about the reality of things, my last paragraph is actually pile of horseshit.  She’s hurt; she’s in disbelief and didn’t even think he was unhappy; her world as she knows it is not just different but destroyed; she’s attacked; a foreign attacker has been invited in to her world by the very person they trusted the most; she’s ashamed; she is tired but can’t sleep; she’s tormented; she’s utterly tortured; she’s sick (physically); she can’t eat; she wishes her heart and lungs would stop just to escape this hell; her hair falls out; she loses weight; she is broken.  In her eyes her husband is worse than dead.  If he were dead, he wouldn’t have chosen to destroy her then leave.

BUT … another reality … you can kick, scream and have a huge meltdown of epic proportions but it won’t change who your husband is … not ‘who he has become’, but who he has been all along.  The whore who he cheated with wasn’t the one who married you, she’s likely to be single and isn’t the one who owes you loyalty – that’s your husband.  She is not worth your energy in any way shape or form.

The only way i can build other women up, isn’t by not sleeping with their husband…it’s by giving them the honesty that (most) men just simply don’t possess.  All (most) Men cheat.  If they haven’t cheated yet, they are (most likely) only ever a matter of time away from doing so.  If you think your husband hasn’t cheated, you’re (most likely) wrong.

We want men to be something that they simply ARE NOT.  We want them to be more concerned with building a home with us, with creating and bring up children … but their deepest darkest desires are so much different.  The more you push these things, your soppy ideals down their throat, the further they move towards wanting the oposite and the scariest thing is … you won’t even see it happening.

MEN DON’T WANT THE SAME THINGS AS WOMEN and – very often women dislike the things that men want.  Sex is one of those things.  Men want sex for its mechanics; women want sex for creating babies.  The only difference here is that as women, we force our ideals on to men as being the ‘right’ way of doing things, the ‘good’ way of living life.  This is making men feel ashamed for liking sex purely for the sake of it, for the pleasure it brings.  This social ideal allows women to (wrongfully) assume the upper hand; almost withhold the innate pleasure of sex … she essentially extinguishes DESIRE.

I have a lot of friends who are happy with a relationship where the man accepts that sex is a no no – they have created a situation whereby they are happy even though they know that it is at the expense of an unfulfilled husband…and we think men are selfish…hmmmm.

The solution to this is another harsh reality.  You can’t change anyone.  If you’re the type of woman who has a hole in her heart that can only be filled with the typical, what i have come to see as utter bull shit, ‘perfect’ happy, fluffy, sparkly, family life…then be prepared to be hurt.  Lose yourself in the fantasy for now but it simply does not exist.  Okay, biologically (most) women are driven to want those things but you have to train your mind to accept the reality.  NEVER RELY UPON ANYONE ELSE TO SECURE YOUR HAPPINESS.  Not even your children; they are individuals with their own set of needs and will eventually have their own lives and families.  If you live through your children and lose your identity as an individual … that’s a: pathetic, b: boring and c: seriously unattractive.  Please don’t blame your husband for checking-out of being a husband if you have officially stabbed and murdered the wife and partner he fell in love with.

YOU HAVE TO LOOK INSIDE OF YOURSELF.  Please yourself; be selfish (think like a man hahaha); put yourself first; break yourself down and find the strength to build yourself up; create your own happiness; create a beautiful life; don’t rely on anyone else; indulge in pleasures; break the rules … you may think that doing this would be a total antidote for a healthy relationship but IRONICALLY … men are attracted by selfishness, by a woman that knows what she wants…FUCKED UP – MOST DEFINITELY but it doesn’t stop it from being the reality.

Am i doing you a favour by not fucking your husband  – absolutely not … it makes not an ounce of difference to the reality.   If anything, if you’re willing to bury your head in the sand and convince yourself that your husband accepts a sexless relationship … then don’t expect me to subscribe to that warped little world – wake up, men like sex!  If anything, i know ‘why’ (most) men do what they do … i’ve allowed myself to be selfish and it’s so fucking good.  Choosing, for whatever reason, NOT to live my life exactly how i want to … won’t change a fucking thing about your husband and what he likes getting up to behind your back.  And to all you men out there, the reality doesn’t make me love you any less…just be aware that a very small number of women – have seen the light and can play your ass at your own game like a complete goddess hustler!!

Bring it on … 😉

 

Kinky pleasures of a filthy whore…

“I want to see you in some leggings.  Some very tight leggings.  I want to feel your wetness coming through them before i bend you over, peel them down and fuck you deep.”  After two very steamy sessions where i had teased his cock to explosion – he wanted to take control.  “I have a lot of pent up frustration and i need you to relieve it; i need you to give yourself to me.”, he texted.  I must admit, reading that text got me very excited.  This wasn’t the ‘standard’.  This was already so fucking hot.  Then came the final request, “I expect you to have the blindfold and the hand ties ready, i need your body.”

I’d gone from writing a professional paper to dashing round the house to prepare for this appointment.  I checked in with my best friend Kate like i so often did; i needed her to know when and where i was meeting and for how long.  It’s a safety thing.  I had her on loud speak as i tossed new sheets on to the bed, pulled out reams of tiny panties trying to figure what would go best with the leggings.  Then another text, “Be a sexy secretary, make sure your amazing breasts are on show.”  I read the text aloud to Kate who giggles and tells me that all of this is madness.  “You’re so brave.”, she says, “What do you do when they arrive?”, she goes on to ask.  I go into detail as to how i greet my guests as if i’m some sort of dab-handed whore who does it every day.  She continues to erupt into hysterics while i continue to prepare my boudoir…am already taking on my little minx persona.  A complete turn around to the sensible studious girl i was just less than thirty minutes before.  “Right”, i say, “all ready now i just need to get myself ready, i’m going to have to jump into the shower.”  I say bye and promise to text after my guest leaves.  He’s having a one hour session and every minute is going to be spectacular.

It’s not easy you know.  Getting everything ready, having a mad dash from one persona to the other.  I quickly lay out the red velvet hand ties and black blindfold on the bed as a bold and enticing indicator of my kinky intentions.  Next to it, my outfit.  I jump into the shower.  The grooming element is something that takes time and it has to be perfect.  I start by making sure that i’m completely smooth down there, using the most lush smelling body-wash worked up to a luxurious foam, enjoying my own body as part of the whole ritual.  Finally, i dry myself and take time to rub in body oils across my pulse points; cooling and softening the parts of my skin that he will breathe in when he finally has me before him.  I take time to enjoy the aroma and the touch of it as it meets and melts into my skin.

I dry my hair and begin to relax, the smell of sex is already in the air.  The curls of my hair fall down over my breasts and i begin to apply some subtle but sultry eye makeup.  I then slip into my skin tight wet-look leggings.  There is not a single crevice, curve or line that cannot be seen in them, they are all but painted on.  I turn to the mirror and look at my ass, my word, i look amazing – my ass is amazing.  I slip on a buttoned up blouse and only fastened two of the buttons, with my assets right on display just as he had asked.  I lay on the bed and took some pictures.   I sent them to him as a very cheeky smile crossed my face.  “Wow, you look stunning, i’m nearly there.”, came the reply.  I’m excited but feel confident.

A knock at the door, it’s him.  I slide into my heels and strut to the door.  I open the door and he steps inside.  He looks in utter disbelief.  He holds me out at arms length like he can’t get enough of the view of me.  His eyes cannot get any wider.  Now that is one lustful expression he has.  I turn around teasingly saying, “Erm, i wasn’t sure if these leggings were tight enough.  Can you see enough of my ass in these?”  Lust has already taken over him, his eyes are full of passion – he’s on auto-fuck mode.  “You are fucking amazing, fucking amazing.  I’ve never seen anything as magnificent in my life.”  I stand to study his expression a little longer, allowing him to take me in visually.

I walk through to the bedroom, making cheeky, suggestive comments.  He’s not listening, he’s fully engaged on me; on my body and his need to fuck me – and i can feel it; i can feel it in the air so much as to taste the sexual tension.  The room is full of sex, two minds high on pleasure and it hadn’t even started.  “Just stand there.”, he said firmly as he sit on the bed.  He stood me in front of him and gabbed in between my legs.  He told me how hot and wet it was there and used his leg to force my legs open further.  I groaned and threw my head back, eyes closed in anticipation.  He ordered me to turn around and face the wall.  He stood up and began kissing my neck, it was as if we cold taste each others’ heartbeat.  He sat back down and i stayed facing the wall.  “Stick that ass out for me.”, he said assertively.  Of course, with both hands firmly on the wall, i did as he said.  I knew what a sight would be before him and i knew the slight pause was him stopping to take it in.

He asked me to tell him how much of a naughty girl i was…and i did…and it was so fucking true.  He gave me one hard spank and i gasped with my right cheek pressed into the wall.  Wow it felt really amazing and he gave me three more to enjoy.  In this position, with him sat on the bed, my ass was right in his face.  He then slowly peeled down my leggings to reveal just my ass.  Then, slowly, he peeled them off completely.  He ordered me take the rest of my clothes off, all but my heels, and then lay on the bed.

Once on the bed he tied my wrists to the bed-frame and i could see that my breasts looked amazing and he couldn’t help but pay attention to both nipples with his tongue before blindfolding me.  Then i felt his tongue between my legs, licking my swollen clitoris.  I moaned and wiggled, my bottom lifting off the bed.  He stabilized my withering hips and forced my legs wider apart.  The pleasure roseu p to my nipples.  I felt my whole body tense in ecstasy when i felt his fingers slide inside me.  I pulled harder on the hand restraints.

Next, i feel his cock slide up through my breasts and into my mouth.  He tasted so nice and in my mind i was begging for more.  I could taste his pre-cum at the back on my throat.  His cock was so hard that i began to gag despite my mind telling me i needed to have more of it.  Finally, he stopped, turned me over, with my wrists still tied, pulled my ass up and plunged his cock into me from behind.  As soon as he did this, a burst of pleasure rippled from in between my legs and across my body, i came so hard that he had to hold me up with my hips.  To have him fuck me in that position was ecstasy and my second orgasm peeked at the same time as his and i felt him explode inside me as he let out a gasp.  He grabbed be hard toward him, thrusting his entirety into me, to make sure i felt the fullest extent of his huge orgasm.

After he showered, he left completely satisfied and i was left a little richer … now that really is job satisfaction.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What keeps a hooker up at night…?

Hahaha … well it’s not what you might think!  It’s nearly 4am and i’m wide awake.

There’s a few things i want to get off my chest.  Over the weekend i’ve made a conscious effort with regard to making escorting appointments with new clients.  Ideally, i’m looking for two more clients who i would provide incall for on a regular basis.  You see, incall is different because i will only ever consider offering to trusted men and to a very limited few.  For the two i currently have accepted for incall – they consider themselves very lucky, and so they should.  I also have a regular on outcall.

Not to blow my own trumpet but i’m classy, educated, intelligent and that’s just not easy to find.  Without being disrespectful, finding a escort who you feel safe with is a luxury…who wants to be intimate with someone who looks like they would struggle to write their own name never mind remember to brush their teeth.  It’s not just about feeling safe; only seeing a limited number of regulars means that i can focus on meeting their needs , which is something the ‘conveyor-belt’ type is not interested in.  This means that clients get a more authentic and almost exclusive service.  Plus my home is in an affluent suburb and not some extension of a crack den.

The most important aspect that sets me above others is that with me a client will enjoy knowing that i too am enjoying myself, which, believe it or not, is the secret ingredient for most men.  If it were just sex then they would try harder at pestering their wives.  Part of the experience is knowing that they are pleasing me…almost all men categorically say that they don’t find anything attractive about a woman that’s just going to lay there.

The problem is finding those men who are worthy to be a regular incall client.  When men see the fees that elite escorts charge, they are put off – that’s a good way to filter out the wrong type of client.  However, it’s only after a client has experienced me that they realise just how exquisite i am.  They have a taste of luxury and don’t ever want to settle for less.

I have a whole list of enquiries every day…this weekend was no different.  I posted my add out, as i told myself i would in a conscious effort to shortlist two potential incall clients…

My word…where do i begin?  Well, yes, no two men are the same that’s very true, they’re all unique – very unique in fact.  One has decided that he can’t meet me ‘professionally’ and he’s suddenly decided (yes, in the space of a few hours) that he’s got feelings for me and wants me to ‘put all of my past histories’ behind me and give him a chance, offering to take me on a date – no, absolutely not.  Another has agreed to pay in way of doing my accounts; no thank you the only thing being ‘done’ is the client whoever he may be.  Did the title of the ad read: hooker looking to recruit accountant – no.  One man started to send tests at the rate of one per two and a half minutes with the time gap rapidly narrowing and with the content of the messages becoming even more doting…to the point of telling me he cannot wait to hold me in his arms – this, by contrast, is after asking me if he can rip my sexy St. Trinian’s uniform off me…hmmm a bit up-and-down there… #potentialserialkillerprofile.  One man then persisted to ask me (ten times, if not more) whether i mind him paying me above my ‘going rate’.  Firstly, i’m not a repossessed house being sold at auction and so therefore don’t have a ‘ceiling price’ so to speak, and secondly, just give me the extra money rather than holding a ceremony to present it to me, like it’s the grandest gesture in the world.

Seriously, these are just some of the examples from this weekends shortlisting.  I am both laughing and shaking my head whilst writing this…with intermittent bouts of bringing both hands to cover my face in exasperation.  The good news is that i have two potential men that may meet the mark and who don’t make me feel that i might be including a receipt for a taser gun and pepper spray to offset against my taxable income this financial year.

Anyway, now we can see exactly what kind of things keep a hooker up at night… i just totally gave up on trying to count sheep as soon as my mind veered back to consider a ‘refer family and friends’ scheme …  hahaha!

Being a full-time whore…

I’ve always carried out escorting around my work establishing my new business.  Living alone and having to pay all he usual stuff; mortgage; bills; all of life’s other things.

Last week, i was due to deliver a seminar…i was gutted the day before when i had to turn down five times that amount for just an hour and a half’s work as an escort.

I mean… what would you do…?  Obviously, i maintained my professional integrity as so many people were counting on me; morally, the help and support that over 100 people were relying upon has to come before someone’s need to get their end away.

But … it got me thinking and it got me thinking like i’d never thought before.  Quality of life – why would i work myself stupid doing something that its’t without its stress…when i could work so much less for so much more.

You may think, well, okay escorting may provide you with more money, but your career and profession is your passion.  I say – no.  No – why can’t i have it all?  What can’t i just do what i like?

I like sex; i’m good at sex.  Sex allows me to have a better quality of life; i can see my family and friends more often and do the things that i enjoy.

I’m not ashamed.

Again…i’m. not. ashamed.

So many times, i hear my friends say: when a man has sex with a lot of women he’s a player, someone held in high-esteem, but when a woman does the same, she’s a slag.  This is hardly a pioneering and enlightening statement – so why are we still so shocked by it.   It is what it is – the truth…women are thought about differently to men, at least in mainstream thinking.

If you’ve read my earlier posts, you’ll know i deviated from the restrictions of mainstream thinking a long time ago.  My mind is my own and i shape my own fucking thoughts.  I’m an honors academic – i’m intelligent and bright.  Why and how would mainstream ever be enough for me.  My mind has wings.

Let me tell you, many women gain some sort of comfort from calling people like me a slut; a whore; a bitch; a slag … but i’ll also tell you that this doesn’t put off your boyfriend or husband.  Instead, it only puts you off from being just as liberated and uninhibited, which is what you hide behind… and what keeps you in your place.  In my view, there’s two types of women – a wife, a girlfriend and then a whore – neither represents the bad version of the good …. i want to be a whore every single time.

So, i’ve been thinking of becoming a full time whore because if i’m honest …. maybe the business was one of two things: a situation that opened me up to escorting, where as before i never would have, and secondly a ‘justification’ to be an escort in itself.   I don’t need to justify myself.

Have i lowered myself, have i quit my aspirations?  No, being a full-time escort is the intelligent option …. i make more money for doing less.  I still have my brain … and have more opportunity to invest and grow… i’m not a silly girl…certainly not silly enough not to take this opportunity.

Will i be a ‘conveyor-belt’ hooker …. no, oh no …. as i’ve said before, my fees are only to be afforded by the most discerning and afford they do because i offer them something that they will never forget.  Men always return and always pay what i’m worth … everything is based upon quality not quantity.  I have a few rich clients.  I know my worth, men see me as an investment into themselves, a luxury.

Life is too short not to become a fucking full-time whore hahaha.

 

 

 

Stopping by for sex…

Although i don’t really get time to do much escorting, i have learned so much from the small number of times i’ve met with clients and from the vast amount of correspondence with them.  I’ve always limited my call girl work because i’m picky.  I might be doing it for a bit of additional income but i have high standards and they don’t budge just because i need work.

Another reason why i don’t do this often is because i have the highest fees around to help separate those men who i won’t see to those that i will.  I’m not into men who want a quick shag; it has to be those that want memorable sex and they pay for it because they get that exclusivity from a girl that doesn’t operate in a ‘conveyor-belt style’.  Of the men i’ve seen so far, they always come back…because i’m good at what i do and because  – i’m nothing like ‘all the other girls’.

I do look after myself and i do have an amazing figure – but you don’t have to have a great body to be a call girl and that’s not because men like all shapes and sizes – it’s because all men like sex.  It’s the same for performance; you don’t have to be good in the sack to be an escort, you just have to have the goods.  But i have both, the body and the skills to get any man weak at the knees and that’s what sets me above the rest; what enables me to charge higher; what makes me able to be choosy and take my pick.

Don’t get me wrong, i’ve wrote many times over in my blog as to how much of a dam hard learning curve the world of escorting offers.  It’s hard to find your feet and pitch your worth when you’re working alone and my advice is to go in hard and soften up where you need to as it’s always almost impossible to go in soft and then toughen up.

Another factor that has limited my work is the fact that i have only ever offered what we call ‘outcalls’, meaning that i go out to meet clients as opposed to accommodating in my home, also known as an ‘incall’.  At first i refused incalls because my new house wasn’t ready; it’s still having a huge amount of renovation done to it.  Secondly, i just wasn’t ready to draw a blurred line between work and homelife.  However, that thought process soon changed when i got used to working from home having started my own business.

Another big reason for not initially offering incall was the fact that i wasn’t at that early stage able to fully ensure the caliber of men that i’d ultimately let into my home.  Now i’m much more astute at sussing this out i began to give more consideration to offering incall.  When i though about it, i realised that men like the thought of ‘getting away’ from day-to-day reality and quite like the idea of just being able to ‘stop by for sex’.

I thought of my house and the fact that it wasn’t yet finished, despite how beautiful it is.  Then i swapped to think like a man.  Men aren’t interested in whether a freshly plastered wall still needs another layer of undercoat or whether your electrics still need wiring up – they are instead more interested in making sure you get laid instead of your new solid wood parquet.

My bedroom is beautiful; i am beautiful … bingo!  So i decided to test drive my first incall by inviting a guy who i had been messaging for a good space of time, long enough to know he was decent and what i class to be a good client.

We had decided to meet last Sunday afternoon for some fun.  He explained that he was nervous but excited.  He told me what he’d like me to be wearing and i obliged, preparing with my most classy Jo Malone Pomegranate Noir, stocking, panties and a very opulent bra that caressed my assets in the most marvelous of ways.  I assured him he had nothing to be nervous about and to just get geared up to enjoy me.

He turned up and i didn’t feel that intrusiveness i thought i’d feel by offering an incall.  I’m confident and enjoy sex and so when he walked in the house i was quite exited and felt somewhat exhilarated.  I could tell he was nervous but too overwhelmed with lust for me.  The practicalities had to be taken care of first and we smoothed over those aspects with small talk as we walked to the bedroom.

In the bedroom, i took his coat and i could see him looking around as if consumed by the whole situation, like a child in a candy shop.  He was ten years older than me but didn’t look it.  I lay him on the bed fully clothed and straddled over him to kiss him softly on the lips…i could almost taste his heartbeat and the look in his eyes as he opened them momentarily, as they rolled back in ecstasy, was of passion and of complete contentedness.  I just knew that he was going to enjoy every minute and second of his hour with me.  As i ordered him to stand up and take his clothes off i heard his breath quicken as it took him some time to realise what i’d just said…

…he’s already made his second booking.

 

Celebrate with a threesome …

It was their wedding anniversary; they’ve been married 19 years and only ever been with one another…since being 15 years old.  They decided to treat themselves to a threesome to celebrate.  What an amazing couple.  The gift, to them both, was me.

It’s hard working within the dynamics of a couple there are three sets of fiery hot expectations all passionately, yet very fiercely, mixed together – his expectations, her expectations and their expectations.  Believe you me, a man’s and woman’s expectations are the two ends of the same spectrum and their joint aspirations meet somewhere in between – NOT in the middle, oh no…but somewhere on that fine line that i must tentatively toe from beginning to end.

Even at the very beginning, from that first correspondence, it is usually the man that contacts me then all of a sudden he will drop out as the woman takes over and you just have that feeling that he is now sat back having planted the seed, gleefully smiling from ear to ear…for him, the kick has already begun.  At that stage, for both the man and the woman, they have embarked upon the fantasy and it fuels their sex lives from that moment on.

Their sex is fantastic during the lead up to the day of meeting, with the woman exchanging emails and seemingly becoming more engulfed than the man.  They, the woman, will ask me for tips and i’ll always start with their best interests first; i’ll empower by instilling in them a viewpoint in which they put themselves first, they take control, they are the siren and they are very much calling the shots…because believe you me, up to this point it’s pretty much the man manipulating her actions and thoughts.

On this particular occasion, with the married couple celebrating their anniversary, i sense a certain degree of having ‘given in’ from the woman.  I sense it with a tone of sadness.  I already feel an allegiance to this woman before i have even met her.  I don’t feel she’s being forced to do this but i know for sure that if her husband hadn’t have mentioned it the thought would never have crossed her mind.  Very subtly, i start to focus on her and her feelings and i then work upon that by building her up.  Everything points to this message: you are the woman; you are a goddess; you do exactly what it is that you want to and it will be accepted and respected with pleasure and thanks. Stamp over any selfish calculated desires from another person and ‘take’ that respect, demand that it be known that the only thing worth giving time to is only ever the things that she wants.   Do i think the female prowess that i am exuding upon her is misplaced – hell no!!  And to reinforce this, she owned that sassy siren like the amazing goddess that she is.

I needed her to not be trapped in that corner, that corner in which she was backed into by a big scary red flag hanging over her marriage screaming:  do this to satisfy your husband or he will roam and then leave…stamp on those types of mother-fuking niggles like the bitches that they are.  She rose up out of that corner like a phoenix.  Yes!!  If we’re going to do this, were going to be delivering one message and one message only: she is going to be liberated by this experience and in that sense, if any one has to worry – it’s him.

You know, having said that, what i do find is that couples go quiet in the days leading up to the meet, or should i say the women do because at that point, they are the ones that are exchanging all of the messages.  What i usually get is: i woke up this morning and just felt that i couldn’t go through with it, i’m so sorry.  So that’s weeks of emailing and preparation down the pan.  You see, the reality steps in, they never really had any intentions of going through with it, instead they let themselves get carried away enjoying the fantasy in the safety of the event not having occurred yet.  What most couples forget is, is that escorts charge for turning people on, that includes emails, phone calls and texts…in literal terms these couples have effectively had hundreds of pounds worth of sex calls for nothing.  Problem is, you can’t request a deposit in this game.  Anyway that’s a different story all together and i’m learning fast.

On this occasion…the couple didn’t back out.  She was brave and i admired that in her.  So the hotel was booked and i had a time to turn up.  What was nice was that they were making the event into something special, they enjoyed time together in the spa, had a meal and a drink together.  I turned up that evening ten minutes early.  I text her to let them know i had arrived.  I got out of my car and made my way to the front entrance of the hotel, she was making her way down to meet me as the hotel was huge and like a maze with magnificent halls, court yards and long corridors to negotiate.

I stood in the entrance hall, no one on reception and things were quiet.  It was a very grand hotel with high ceilings and chandeliers.  Then i noticed a man walking towards me.  It was strange really because i was familiar with what she looked like but not so much him.  As he walked towards me i was trying to make links with the little i had seen of him, searching his face for signs of recognition, my brain seriously working overtime to try and decipher what expression i should greet him with.  Was it him and so i should prepare myself to greet him in the manner of what was about to progress or was he just someone passing by and so option A would be … er … inappropriate.  The knowing smile that spread across his face as he drew closer soon cleared things up.

He said hi and was friendly, he seemed excited and quite relaxed.  He explained that his wife too had come a different way through the hotel to meet me.  We took a quick peek back out of the entrance to the hotel and then when we couldn’t see her we headed back inside and progressed across the hall into another rather large reception area.  That’s where we saw her approaching, out of breath but smiling and laughing lightly at the situation.  I gave her a hug, she was nervous and so was talking lots.  She was friendly, they both were, i knew we were all going to have a good time.

The three of us walked the rest of the way through the hotel’s twists, turns and many doors, he opened doors to let me walk through and i wondered what was running through his mind.  We all gave one another those knowing looks as though to say, we’re chatting lightheartedly now but within the hour we’ll be fucking.  It was all very exhilarating, consenting and liberating.  I could feel the special bond that this couple had and the loving relationship that had been forged through experiencing what life had offered them over the years.  I had no doubt that i was to share in something really special with them both ad for that i felt privileged.  I sensed he was eager, eager not just to get his hands on me but equally to experience his wife inside all of this.  I got the feeling that part of the attraction was to see his wife in a situation that was new and very different.  To me, that was a lovely desire; we all like new things and i was humbled by how his desire for something different still centered around his wife.  Make no doubt about it, for very strong couples, inviting a third party is not a threat to a marriage but instead it’s something that strengthens and deepens it by exploring the many dimensions of a relationship together.

We finally arrived at the hotel room, all three of us stood in front of the door, watching as he used his card key to open it.  He opened the door and she moved her arm out and in to the room i walked …