“I’m in love with a hooker”

I grew up thinking that all guys wanted was sex.
Growing up in high school, all the guys showed me just that.

Entering the escorting arena, I carried this very thought with me too. That it was all (take the money) then wham, bang, and thank you ma’am. But somewhere between the drop of the envelope, some superficial small talk, a round or two in the sheets… Feelings got caught. And they weren’t mine.

You’d think that things were clear after the cash has been exchanged, that it was gonna be nothing more than sexy fun in between the sheets.
I didn’t understand why men wanted to complicate something that’s meant to be simple, straightforward, and easy. Isn’t that what they wanted in the first place?
Like one of the reasons why men see escorts was because they’ve gone through the falling in love, and have settled nice and comfy with their wives and girlfriends… To the point that there was no more excitement in the bedroom.
I’m ALL for giving excitement, passionate sex, or playing the dirty schoolgirl slut. But what I’m not up for is getting nuked by the ‘L’ word.

Back in my agency days, I remember being in the arms of one of my regulars. We were standing face to face, eyes locked onto each other, almost touching lips when he said:
“I love you. It is what it is”.
Uhhh no it is not. You’ve got a wife and a family with kids my age. You pay me for my time. You should know what this relationship is. What we have will be nothing more.
Feeling really uncomfortable, I had to answer him quick. No way am I going to tell him I felt the same (I think it’s wrong to mislead clients for the sake of earning more money). I said “That is very sweet… I really enjoy spending time with you too”.
This regular client was called Robert (not his real name). It was only the beginning of our relationship, did it evolve very quickly into a sugar daddy relationship, even though it was never labeled that.
He would see me very often. I would spend my weekends, and sometimes a few days with him. I even went on a couple holidays with him overseas.
I really liked him in the beginning. I can even say infatuated because he was a nice looking guy, knew how to dress, very well spoken, chivalrous, and I liked his accent.

Then he got my personal number, and we started messaging each other without my agency passing on the messages to him. Then he’d start sending me messages when he was drunk, telling me his feelings towards me, and how jealous he feels knowing I might be dating someone else, and how he needs me to feel the same way towards him. He was getting real needy, and I needed a break from him. I really I did.
It got to the point when he’d see me every week, and I was so close to a mental breakdown. At that point, I wondered how in hell did gold diggers do it? These women marry, even have kids and dedicate years of their lives to get a piece of fortune. Thank god I had friends at the time that knew my situation, and was there to support me, and gave me some good pep talk. That this wasn’t going to last forever, and this is the best money that I’ll ever make. And it was true.
I was really raking it in. I’d be raking more in if I didn’t fake a few sickies from him.
Well, things eventually cooled down. The tables turned when it was my turn to get needy. Financially needy that is.
I told him I quitted the agency, and since he’s been seeing me for a while now, maybe he can help me out whenever he came to town. He initially agreed, but then he started paying me less whenever we saw each other. Then the meetings became less, and so did his messages.
It’s funny how it’s okay for someone to offer their help to you initially, and promise to help you. You’re polite about it, and refuse. But when the crunch comes, they don’t keep to their word.
I find this also happens a lot in everyday life. There’s always someone that says ‘oh my gosh, I’m so gonna do this for you/ask me for help anytime/we’re gonna hang out/whatever’, and they’re full of shit!

Anyway, I think after 2 and a half years, it was a nice finish to our relationship. I wanted it to end anyway, and I’m even surprised it lasted this long. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have experienced some of the finest things in life. Like staying in beautiful luxurious hotels, known what it’d be like to be in a private jet mid air, or own my very first car.

Now that I’m independent, I’m very much happier being an escort and seeing clients for short periods at a time vs spending a weekend with someone. It’s so mentally drainining.

Being in the sex industry has made me realise that men are just as emotional as women, and it is indeed more than sex. Men need just as much attention and affection. Behind their egos, sexual fantasies and erections… There’s a bit of loneliness/emptiness, and a need for some company. I guess that is why more men have depression over women.

No it is not. You’ve got a wife and a family with kids my age. You pay me for my time. What we have will be nothing more. You’re 30 years my senior, and even though I’m all for older men, I usually like to keep love interests close to my age bracket.
I didn’t understand why men wanted to complicate something that’s meant to be simple, straightforward, and easy. Isn’t that what they wanted in the first place?

Find A Guy That Can Make You Cum

Find a guy that can make you cum.

Orgasms are the bomb, and if a guy can make you cum, then he’s a great guy. In fact, he’s a nice guy.
Nice guys DO finish last. Right after he made sure you finished first.

I’ve been with all sorts of guys (in my private life). Guys that are oblivious to a girl’s clit, guys that go too hard on it, guys that can’t take criticism, to guys that are so vanilla and boring, they think girls can warm themselves up through kissing, then expect a girl to take care of herself – guys that put themselves first. Ugh.

Then you get the nice guys.
The guys that take their time with you. Take the time to get to know you. They might push a few wrong buttons, but you steer them in the right direction, and they’re cool with that. Maybe you have a bit of stage fright, but reassures you that it’s okay.. Because he’s determined to take you to that destination.

Guys that can make you cum are giving. They want to get to know you. Because having great sex is a two way street, and never just about him blowing his load then rolling over to sleep. It’s sex etiquette really. You hold the door open for me, I’ll do the same for you.

I think that’s the problem with porn. Most of it is about serving the guy, being his little cum slut – making him feel good. The big money shot is him blowing his load all over her face at the end of the video, and she kneels there pretending to be satisfied and relieved. You rarely see the girl have a happy ending.

That needs to stop.

And please, girls need to stop faking their orgasms. Unless you’re a hooker, and your client’s tiring the shit out of your vagina, it feels fucking uncomfortable (but he’s determined) so you gotta give him the grand fake O so he can stop.
Other than that, you’re sending the wrong messages, and encouraging him to rub you the wrong way.

ANYWAY, I think it’s pretty special when you find someone that makes you cum. Because it’s not very easy for girls. If a guy learns to push the right buttons, and not rely on his good looks to please her, then he’s a skilled, generous, and emotionally intelligent gentleman.

Of course it helps when you know how to get yourself off, so you can direct your partner better.

I had my first orgasm when I was 4 (I experimented and played with myself a lot so that helped lol). Some girls have never achieved an orgasm before, and that sucks. I think we must all have some sort of technique (no matter how strange), to get off.

So I think more guys need to use their hands and tongues more.

And stop relying on their dick.

Let’s not waste each other’s time

I was recently put on the spot by a client. He asked me “Did you have fun with me tonight?”
I put on my best smile, and said “Of course I did! It was so good to see you again”. His eyes searched my mine, looking for truth and honesty.

What did he think I was gonna say? “I was bored out of my mind making out with you for an hour. I wished you could’ve at least TRIED to get a hard on”??

Of course not.

This guy broke some big rules of punting, It would’ve driven any sex worker mad.
Firstly, he stayed half an hour longer, and when I told him time was up, he was upset.

“I don’t have any more money on me, but I want to stay longer”

No. Just…… Get the fuck out.

Not only that he wanted to stay longer for free, he ask me out on a date a few days later!!! Throughout this funny little career of mine, I’ve never been asked out on a date. I get more dick pics and guys telling me how hard they’re jerking off at the moment. But never a date proposal. So it was in a way, flattering.

But I hate to break the bad news to these guys, but if I wanted a mate or a boyfriend, I’ll get on Tinder. Why the fuck would I charge for sex in disguise of finding friendship/romance?
I’m trying to run my own business, and build a brand for myself here, and I get people that want to waste my time. So it fucking infuriates me.

You know, if I was working in a cafe or some shitty retail shop, and a customer asked me out to dinner, I’d be more than happy to tell him I’ve got a boyfriend.
But as an escort, I’m selling a sexually appealing image of myself. I’m selling the fantasy of a free spirited fun loving SINGLE girl. In my opinion.

And I wished some guys would stop trying to be my ‘friend’, or try to ‘save’ me.
I don’t need fucking saving. I know you may have met some sad depressed cliched hookers that have it hard and get into the game for the wrong reasons.
I feel you. Bro.
But there are some 100% consensual right minded girls that enter this game for the RIGHT reasons.

People need to stop watching those terrible movies or reading those crappy books that put escorts in the bad limelight.

We all get paid something by the hour. You hate working overtime without getting paid?

Well I do too.

Rhymes on B Street

Tonight I walked past the building where I lived a year ago.
I was in such a dark place back then, and did lots of self reflection amongst bad connections.
As I waited for my uber to pull up, I stood outside the glass window and wrote this little poem:

Black n white zig zagged memories
When I’ve lost a lot of calories
Soft soft pats of a black kitty cat
It was an empty house, now that’s a fact
Strange messy nights, and feeling alone
Just sitting on the couch, day by day,
Getting stoned
It was cold and quiet, so very still
Emotional scars, all very real
A distinct smell, when I walk through the door
A luxurious bedroom, with a navy wall
Perhaps I couldn’t appreciate the beauty of it all
Instead I went mad, distressed, like I hit a brick wall
Despite the emptiness, and anxiety, that I did feel
There was a beauty behind it, bits of sex appeal
Of the fantasies I’ve conquered,
Through my mind I wondered…
Strange times on my Street
It was strange indeed
With screaming and yells, broken hearts, from downstairs
Other’s messy nights, emotions thrown in the air
Was good to get a chance to reminisce, tonight
I look up the building, staring long, in delight

Blood Is Thicker Than Water?

I wrote a short poem about my estranged sister some time ago.

I wish we could’ve got along,
I wish you weren’t such a bitch
I wish you were much happier,
And not an envious witch
I wish you weren’t a know it all,
Just admit you don’t know shit
Why hide your weaknesses?
I see through your wall
Artificial and fake, right to the core!

Ugh. I tried.
I tried cos I have this deep sense of family ingrained in me.

Blood is not thicker than water guys. If your family sucks dick, just stop trying to be around that negativity, just because.
Just because you’re family, doesn’t mean you’re entitled to giving/lending money to your family members. Just because you’re family, doesn’t mean you can be a freeloader, just because you’re family, doesn’t mean you own or owe anything to your family !!

I’m known as the super private person among the females in the family.
It hurts them that I don’t share everything with them, and they don’t know what I get up to. They think I’m the strange one of them all, and that I on purposely exclude myself from the family cos I’m a selfish bitch.

I hide cos they’ll think they own some part of my income. That I should help and support them cos “we’re family man, you gotta do the right thing”

EAD

Back In The Escort Game

I never thought I’d get back into this.

Seriously.

Who knew that tonight, I’d be sitting here chilling with someone I really love, in a cosy bedroom doing our own thing, and with a gorgeous little kitty keeping us company… When just 10 minutes ago, I came back from sucking a guy off for cash.
When my partner knew right well where I’ve been, but nonetheless, greets me with a hug and a kiss.

Nope. Never in my right mind I’d think I’d be this content tonight.

Rewinding back to 2 years ago, I quit because the money was getting shit, I didn’t like the people I worked with, I didn’t like the way they ran things, and…. I wanted to fall in love. After being single for so long, and having a bunch of meaningless encounters, you get lonely.

I wanted a spark. I wanted to love, and I wanted to be loved.

I had this fucked thing in my head thinking that all the guys that genuinely liked me judged me for what I did, and treated me different.
So I wanted to try and lead a normal life, and so hopefully I can find someone nice, and I didn’t have to hide what I did all the time. So when that dumbass question “what do you do for work” comes up, I don’t have to fidget, freak out, and do the ums and ahs about what I do.
Didn’t turn out too well though… I don’t think I can go and do something normal, like work in a coffee shop, or sell clothes. I’d feel like I’m wasting my time.
Why? When I can get over the stigma of prostitution, and see it as just another job?
Like most people, I really don’t know what I want to do, and fuck knows where I’m going in life.

So I may as well save myself 30 hours a week doing something I don’t really want to, dealing with people I don’t really want to deal with, and focus more on my hobbies, and find what my passions really are.

It feels so empowering being my own boss. And to have found a partner that’s so supportive, and seeing it as just another job as well. That is something special.

It takes someone really special to be able to love a whore.

Nowhere 2015

I was waiting to see a girl named Luna do her poledance performance at this raunchy camp. My acid high was just beginning to take full effect, and I was sitting, buzzing, and enjoying the performances as I waited patiently.
I suddenly heard from a distance, music beats that I’ve never heard before.. It was very bassy, unpredictable, non-monotonous unlike shitty techno.. I didn’t know what it was!
I couldn’t sit still, and got a bit restless (I could even say aroused, cos I just wanted to fuck the music it was that good) I calmed myself down and told myself that the night is still very young, events were just starting. I should just relax and enjoy the show… Eventually I’ll get to dance.
The performers leading up to Luna were pretty entertaining though. I had a butch lesbian gyrating to Bad To The Bone throw me a rubber dog toy filled with what’s meant to be makeshift cum. Luna’s performance, was pretty anti-climactic. Being an ex stripper, I knew what a real pole performance looked like. But I came to watch, and I came to support. After her performance finished, I left to find the source of this sexy music…
The music lead me to a giant pair of spinning hamster wheels, with blasting fire!! Holy fuck! I was starting to shiver with excitement

To make things even wetter in my pants, I discovered that this stage was run by 4 gorgeous Czech guys.

I danced all night till day while watching the waxing moon slowly disappear with the night. I even got to chill with the cool kids. Orange vodka, hash, and cherry liquor was passed around. I even got to play with their fire remote control that lets you choose which outlet sprays fire (they referred to it as a Nintendo controller).

When the blazing sun really hit us at midday, 2 Czech guys remained.
One attractive older one with a red mohawk, and another that was younger and less attractive. The original guy I liked had a girlfriend, and didn’t speak English at all. He liked me too, which was a shame. So left waaay earlier.

At the end I got with the younger – less attractive one. We’ll call him P. Dog
He asked for a kiss, and I was hesitant at first, but then thought about the loss I made with the guy that I came to the festival with. A guy I’d been previously seeing. He got a new girlfriend, but decided to sleep with me anyway. Once we arrived, he fucked off and didn’t even want to hang out platonically.
Once our lips touched, I was instantly hooked. There was an energy about him that drew me in. He was charming, had a way with words, intelligent and the producer of the sexy music that drew me towards his stage in the first place.

Whether I got laid or not, I had the best fucking time of my life.
Love love love loved it.

Such an unforgettable experience, and ever so grateful that I got to go to something like this in my early twenties.

Take me there again. And again. And again. And again. And again….