Suburban Sex Worker

Monday, November 06, 2006

Love life...

Disclaimer: Prostitution is illegal in most of the US. The following post may or may not be fact or fiction, that is up to you, the reader, to decide.

I've been writing and now web camming to a guy in Egypt. I don't know what to think. He says he loves me and wants to marry me, but I am skeptical. I so far haven't had any proof that he even is who he says he is. I know he doesn't want money, I thought he wanted a green card, but now I think he might just be a general pervert.

My heart is broken. I am in love with the idea of being in love. I really want to settle down, get married and maybe even have a couple more kids. Do to my work I obviously don't have a great track record in the relationship department. Prostitution and monogamy don't seem to mix well.

So I put up an ad on CL and got flooded with responses. I've met a nice guy there too. I have a fetish for tall guys and this one is 6'11"! He seems open and really sweet, but kind of a red neck.

Am I being to picky? Is my overseas/internet relationship a subconscious means to keep myself insulated from further hurt? This sucks.


Disclaimer: Prostitution is illegal in most of these here United States of America. Therefore, it up to you the reader to decide whether or not the following post is fact or fiction. I can neither confirm nor deny it's legitimacy...

I love giving head. Probably because I think I'm good at it. Like most people I crave approval and I often hear, "Damn Baby! That's the best head I ever got!" I just got set up with a web cam and my fiancee in Egypt couldn't help but remark on how far down I could take a dildo into the back of my throat in front of the camera. I may be fat, but this bitch can go down!

I used to have a tongue peircing, but I took it out. I miss it and often tickle the roof of my mouth with my tongue keenly feeling it's absense. I had a therapist encourage me to take it out because she said it represented "seduction" to her. It didn't occur to me until lately that "seduction" may not be such a bad thing. Besides, she was probably a pervert with sex on her mind and that's why she thought of "seduction".

I don't know what effect a toungue ring had on men, really. Most men I was with didn't even notice I had a tongue stud at all. But women noticed. Press that little, stainless steel, warm stud up again a juicy, swollen clit and you get a reaction! I've liked to had my head nearly squeezed off many a time because of that thing! I wish there was some way to hook a miniature vibrator up to one.

I have a client who is in the closet, especially to himself. He loves to hear all about cocks and cum! The only way he's with a woman is if she's playing a role, usually dominant and familial. I have mentioned the "Mommy Guy" in my very first post! But he really, really wants a big, thick dick! I have to describe the cocks I've seen in great detail over and over again with exaggerations of the copious amounts of semen produced at each encounter. It takes a lot to get this guy to actually book. Sometimes he makes two or three phone calls before he actually books the gig!

One night I really was tired of his bull shit, so while my Mommy Lovin' client was on the phone, I called my housemate into the bedroom. I unbuckled his pants and before the poor schmoe could object I began to give him loud, sloppy, slurpy head. The phone placed for maximum reception, I went down like a woman posessed, knowing that "Mommy Guy" wasn't imagining himself getting sucked off, but instead was the sucker vs the suckee. When my rather shellshocked HM finally blew his load (I wish he had been more vocal it would have helped a lot!) my client booked his gig.

Ah well, all in a days work!


Disclaimer: Prostitution is illegal in most of the US, so what you are about to read may or may not be fact or fiction, I leave that to you, the reader to decide.

I just got back into town from visiting my family. I love my family, but like most families, we're pretty fucked up. I have a super religious mother who really wants me to be "saved", but as far as I am concerned, I am. I have an adopted step father who was really abusive when we were kids, but is now old and on anti-depressants. I have one brother a couple of years younger than me who is a mess. And on tatooed, earth mother, straight edge sister. And of course there is the various sundry of spouses and children bouncing on large fleshy hips, fat faces drooling and relatively vapid.

The visit went proportionally well until my mother called me to the back bedroom to talk... alone. I gave my son and brother who were sitting discussing the lastest sinful anime a desperate, pleading look, but they could only look on with symapathy as I got dragged down into the mire, like a mammoth who treaded too close to the tar pit and can't be saved.

My mother wanted to pray for me. I don't have any objections to prayer. Many people are startled to discover that I still go to church. I think Jesus was a pretty cool guy who hung out with criminals, hookers and people more like me than those like my mother. The church I go to emphasizes that no one is perfect not even the pastor himself and the we all have a sinful nature, Hell that's what being human is all about. But my mother's prayers are in a league of thier own.

Lasting upwards of an hour or more, my mother's prayers are a spiritual beating! The goal is not to talk to God, as one might wrongly assume. The goal is to berate and demean the person being prayed for in order to get them to change their wicked ways. So I sat and listened to her wail and weep to God about her wasted daughter, "Oh Heavenly Father! Please do not let "Lilith" fail again as she has over and over again in the past! Please allow her to try to be normal! She knows it's her fault she has fallen down into the mud time and again!" Which eventually turns into, "Lord God! Why have you cursed me with such children?! Why am I being punished?!"


I had been having such a lovely visit up to that point. Let's just say that I was extremely relieved to pull into my own driveway last night. I love my family, but I'm glad I live 12 hours away.

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Everybody LOVES a "Butt Stick"!!!

Disclaimer: Prostitution is illegal in most all of the US. Therefore, I can neither confirm nor deny that following article is fact or fiction. That is up to you, the reader, to decide.

(This is the first of tales from the past. Names and identities have been changed of course to protect people's privacy.)

Nick manages a section a very affluent business in town and is moderately well off. His hobbies include restoring old cars, playing in an over-the-hill garage band, and shoving things up his butt.

In all fairness, Nick is one of the SWEETEST clients I've ever had. When picturing his speech think of that baby buzzard that gets sent out by him mother to catch a rabbit. "Oh GORSH Mama, I just can't DO that! Nope, nope, nope, nope can't do it!" Eventually the baby buzzard catches Bugs Bunny and flies home singing, "I'm bring home a baby bumble bee!" You remember that cartoon character? Well, that's Nick; if he were smoking crack and had things shoved up his ass.

Nick is a widower. His wife died of cancer several years ago and the only way he seems to be able to relax enough to be around other women is if he's high. It started with coke and moved eventually to crack. Ironically, this impedes his ability to perform, so usually he pulls in vain at his half on and has to make do with rarely ever reaching climax.

He's also into mild humiliation. No serious bdsm, just being verbally taunted. "Jeez Nick, you can be soooo pathetic in that outfit. What kind of man has to get high and call up women and PAY to have them come over just to get some attention?" And he'll reply, "Ooooo GORSH, I know I'm bad, aren't I?"

I've gotten to know Nick and his wardrobe rather well over the years. He'll ask what I want him to wear. "When I get there you MUST have on scuba flippers, fish net thigh highs with garter belt, Cock Ring (home made from surgical tubing...), Nipple clamps, skinny 80's keyboard tie, snow goggles and a fedora. And I want you posed spread eagle in the guest bathroom over the sink." And he'll do it! Of course I tell him how silly he looks and berate him for being so submissive. He eats it up!

But the best I've saved for last! The ... (dramatic pause) ... BUTT STICK ... ! Nick is too shy to go to an adult store to indulge his fetish for prostsate stimulation. So, he's become ... creative! I mentioned earlier that he likes restoring cars? I tell you I never know what I'm going to find when I go over there shoved up that poor man's ass. Hunks of metal that surely can't be comfortable! But his favorite is his Butt Stick.

He's sawed off a broom handle, taken a wad of duct or electrical tape and wraps it round the end until it's about the size of your fist or bigger. Then there's about two inches of blank wood and then another, smaller wad of tape. The second wad prevents the butt stick from going in too far, thank God!

Once I went over to find him on all fours in his kitchen, the butt stick pointed obstinately toward me walking throughthe door like a unicorn's alicorn pointed at a high school Chess Club. My fee was in an envelope taped securely onto the end. Upon removing it, I had to tug, not so gently, on the stick. He seemed to really like it.

But the "best" gig with him ever was having to watch him with the coffee table. That's right, the coffee table. It starts with a mirror laid out on the floor, balanced over that is his upturned cofee table. The thing with its legs up in the air like some sort of dying bug. Nick would squat over the thing lowering himself down onto the table leg with all its sharp edges and scrollwork. Ouchie!!

But he loved every second! I haven't even seen Nick in years! But I must say that I miss that crazy old guy. He was a real gentleman in spite of his quirks.

Monday, October 23, 2006

Things that make you go Hmmmmmm...

Disclaimer: Prostitution in the US is still illegal in most places. What you are about to read may or may not be fiction. That is up to you the reader to decide...

I recently got a comment that inferred that I don't like being a hooker because I don't like sex or getting to know people. Hmmmmmm... So here's what I think about that...

I LOVE sex! I've been around the block a few times and have a lot of different experiences with, about, in, out and around sex. I have had a lot of real life encounters with sex. This is not something that I am ashamed of, nor am I proud of. It is what it is. So speaking from my own personal experiences I find that I enjoy intimate, deep love making experiences to shallow fleeting ones. This doesn't always mean sex, either.

I had a girlfriend once and we sat on opposite ends of the sofa, our feet all tangled up together in the middle sharing the Sunday paper. I looked up at her with no makeup, bed head and sleep in her eyes and that moment was far more profound and steeped in intimacy than most any sexual encounter than I've ever experienced.

On a personal level, I loooooooove sex. Whether rough or gentle, tough or sweet, sex is a blast! The best sex for me is when you have to laugh out loud with your partner because you're having so much damn fun!

And as far as meeting new people, I love that too! All my favorite jobs involved not just meeting, but helping new people. I was a Domestic Violence Counselor both in shelter and Outclient for eight years. It was one of the most rewarding and draining jobs I've ever had. In a way, I'm just as much as a counselor now to many of my regular clients and I sometimes enjoy that component of prostitution.

Within the confines for prostitution, however, I don't always enjoy either the sex or meeting new people. When women (and I'm sure men too, in many cases) go out (especially on a new gig) we HAVE to think about safety and protecting ourselves. There are too many evil guys out there. I myself have been to many a "bad" gig. So I don't get all twitterpated and excited about the fun sex I'm gonna have. Instead I worry about whether or not he's a cop or if he's armed. Because, Honey, if you don't take these things into account you're either naive or stupid. I've been in this game a long time, trust me.

Most of the clients you see are NOT going to be people you'd pick in your social life. They're mostly sloppy drunk, high, fat, skinny, smelly, ugly, and not "nice" people. Granted you do run across some really great people every once in a blue moom. But not many of those would even acknowledge you in public. I had a client as a madam that I considered to be a very dear friend for more than ten years. We'd go out to dinner or coffee, we'd kiss and snuggle. But as soon as I got some unwanted media attention he disappeared as did all my other "client friends". So even if they are "NIce Guys", ultimately they just want a gig. Not very condusive to that intimacy thing I seem to like so much.

I always told my girls that the client isn't paying for sex. They are paying you to leave and not have any strings attached. No flowers the next day or telephone calls. And if they want to see you outside of work, just let them know you will NOT be having sex with them, and see their interest go limp... They just wanted a free gig, not to get to know you, much less date you or (gasp!) marry you!

I'm not bitter, I love people! I'm a regular Anne Frank! But I'm not so niave as I used to be in my first blush of youth. I'm a reluctant Hooker. I wish I could do something else to pay the bills. But for now, Sugar this is it. So just because you read something I posted in a blog, don't pressume to actually know me. That's arrogant and closed minded.

So lighten up a little, buddy! It's all good! Relax a little and don't be so defensive! Maybe you saw a little in me what you deny in yourself. Prostitution isn't always fun and games. You can't fall in love with every single client. Open your mind and admit that sometimes you cry. Who doesn't cry at least once about their job no matter what they do?! It's okay. We all get through it. And in the end, if we don't allow ourselves to become bitter or blind, we usually learn a little something about life!

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Three Times Yer "OUT"!

Disclaimer: Prostitution is illegal in most of these her United States, so what you are about to read may or may not be fact or fiction. That is up to the readers to interpret...

Last night a 22 year old boy called for a gig. He stated to me upon my arrival that he thought he might be gay and that he was still a virgin. He did have a slightly effeminate way about him. He was a little too graceful. He was a little too demure. He tittered instead of guffawed. And he held his Ssssssssses ssssslightly to long. Not to mention he complimented me on my handbag and shoes! (They were "Darling"!)

His full, curved lips parted prettily as we got started. His smooth skin glowed over his slight frame in the half light of candles he'd lit. However, after three straight (heehee!) hits out of the ball park (we're talking home runs, people!), I think he's convinced he's at least Bi.

Ah, am I good, or what? From the immortal words of the Farmer from Babe, "That'll do, Pig. That'll do."

Sunday, October 15, 2006

Two More Down...

Disclaimer: Prostitution is illegal in most of the US, therefore what you are about to read may or may not be fact or fiction. That is up to the readers to decide!

What is with these guys? This is a PROFESSIONAL arrangement. And they all want a girlfriend their wives or mothers don't know about. I need to find some nice hobbyists and be done with it.

I hooked up with a guy yesterday that is married, didn't pay full fee and wants me to be his, "lover". And I saw the guy at the school again this morning for HALF fee! And they both want to go out to dinner and get all smootchy. I don't mind smootchy for a fee. Other than that, I'm really okay with my plug-in-the-wall boyfriend.

It's not that these are bad guys, they both are sweet, but I can't ever let it get personal, you know? One is married and one lives in his mommy's trailer. Ack. Not really dating material on any healthy level. Plus I still want to save up money to go get my man.

It's not late, but I'm tired. I've had a pretty full day. I guess I'll call it a night and come up with something witty to comment about tomorrow. Like poor Mr. Bagnall with kiddie porn on his computer running from the Boulder cops for running and Escort Service. Not too bright! I wonder if he's hit Google yet...?

Wednesday, October 11, 2006


Disclaimer: prostitution is illegal in most of the United States. What you are about to read may or may not be fact or fiction.

So I posted an ad on a local serch engine and got a few responses. One was from an old client. A favorite old client to be exact. He was moderately good looking and always clean. The first gig I ever went to see him was rainy and he dried my hair (awwwww...). But more importantly, he is a relatively well known Science Fiction writer. His writing style is flowery and a little dramatic for my taste (full of pregnant pauses and what not), but his status impressed me to say the least! I even went out on a "REAL" date with him once. (note: ALWAYS a BAD idea!!!)

I wanted so badly to impress this man who was living the life I dreamed for myself. I was so nervous and shaky. And I wanted it to be a real date, not just a free gig, so I picked an evening that I knew I'd be on my period. I thought this would stop us from doing anything sexual. Well, needless to say that didn't stop anything. He got drunk and insisted on fooling around. To say that I have trouble setting boundaries is the understatement of the year, so I complied. Turns out that the famous writer I was so smitten with was only an illusion. he was just another schmucky guy looking for that free gig.

Swanyways, he responded to the ad using an alias. But the genius forgot that his real name/user name comes up on the e-mail. After leaving his number for me to contact him he forgot to take his name off the outgoing voice mail as well. I called him knowing who he is and tried to set up a gig. But I'm too damn honest. I called him back and told him who I was. Needless to say, he didn't want to set up afterward. Typical. Funny thing is, he tried to make it sound like he was trying to help me out; to spare my emotions as it were. Puhlease! Just tell me I'm too fat and get it over with! He said we'd "shared too much". I fibbed and told him drugs had wiped my memory (only partially true) but to no avail.

Damn! i really could have used that fee and any situation I go into where I know it's not a cop is a good situation. I can't help being a little sad though. I wish he'd turned out to be the kind of guy who dries a girl's hair after the rain instead of a poseur. C'est la vive.

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

My First Blog!

First my disclaimer: Prostitution is illegal in most of the United States, so what you are about to read, may or may not be fact or fiction. That is up to the readers to decide for themselves.

I've been working in prostitution for over ten years now. I started in the sex trade when I was just 17 working as a dancer (stripper) and quit until I was 26. Then I was a phone sex operator briefly and finally a call girl for an Escort Service. Throughout my career in the Sex for Sale industry I've been a stripper, done phone sex, been a prostitute and a pimp; "Madame" for those of you in polite company.

I was mostly out of the business but recent events have rendered me unemployed again and I have to raise fundage for my latest endevour. I have fallen in love! Which sounds great, doesn't it? Here's the catch: he's in Egypt. So in order for me to get him over here, we have to marry. I know, I know, my House Mate (HM) has been warning me over and over that I should approach the situation with caution. All I know is that he's everything I've ever wanted and I think he feels the same way about me. How many times in this short life are we ever in love with the right person at the right time.

So I'm off again! Out to do as many clients as possible to raise a couple thousand dollars in a month. I had my first new client in years last Sunday morning...

..."R" asked if I minded meeting him at work. No problem, I thought. Then I realized he works at my son's old elementary school! Hmmmmm, a tad awkward, maybe. But off I trudge first thing in the morning before the sun has even come up. I pulled behind the school to see the local church leader putting a sign on the back door to mark the way for congregants to gain passage to the school auditorium where the church meets. So much for separation of Church and State. I slip into my heels and click my way around the sidewalk to the front of the building.

"R" was waiting at the door. He eyed me without too much smarmy yuck crossing his face. Not bad. Younger than me, thick around the middle, but clean and polite. He lead me through the gym to where they store the mats. Jeez. Original...

We kissed and got started. I was a little disappointed in the size department, but not terribly worried about it. Poor guy huffed and puffed and puffed and huffed until I faked my little house getting blown in! Then we were done. Nice guy, really. Later he e-mailed me to ask if I'd see him outside of "work". Poor baby.

I've gotten a couple of other calls since then, but I'm reluctant to go. Truthfully, I hate to go. Most of the guys are very nice, but a few are jerks and a couple are down right dangerous. Every time I go I risk going to jail. Being a single mom of one mentally disabled teen son, that is a chance I'd rather not take.

But I need this money. My fiancee can help with bills and then I can work a straight job. But for now, it's the only way I can see to raise this capital.

As for documenting this all in a blog, who knows why I'm doing it! I think it will help keep me sane. Maybe I'll cry a little less. My HM says that most prostitutes don't really enjoy what they do, but it's a conscious and informed decision. I'll tell myself that and try to pretend like this is fun and who knows, maybe it will work!

Oops, gotta take this call, it's a regular client that wants me to pretend to be his Mommy...