Saturday, April 12, 2014

The Orgasmic Kiss


Real men don't slack off on their manly duties

The Kiss

We celebrate kisses in literature and art. On screen, it’s the moment we’re always waiting for, and the climax of every great love story. And in our own lives, it’s the ultimate way to express how we feel.

By Sheril Kirshenbaum

A passionate kiss causes our blood vessels to dilate as the brain receives more oxygen than normal. Our cheeks flush, our pulse quickens, and breathing becomes irregular and deepens. Our pupils dilate, which may be the reason so many of us close our eyes. We also activate five of our twelve cranial nerves that spread out intricately to different parts of the face. The nerve pathways guide the way we interpret the world by helping us see, smell, hear, taste, and touch.

On top of that, our lips are associated with a disproportionately large part of the brain. Sex researcher Alfred Kinsey even reported that some women could reach orgasm from prolonged deep kissing without genital contact. While this sounds unusual, it likely has to do with the way our lips are packed with sensitive nerve endings so that even the slightest brush sends a cascade of information to our brains that often feels very good. Although we often don’t think of them in this way, our lips are the body’s most exposed erogenous zone.


Probably helps the more nekkid you both are

The kiss is a universal language that transcends time and boundaries. Decades ago, anthropologists estimated that over 90 percent of cultures practiced the custom, and with the rise of the Internet and ease of travel in the 21st century, it’s fair to assume that nearly all of us are doing it. Today we see kissing practically everywhere. It is a perfect example of how both “nature” and “nurture” can complement each other to create a single complex and variable behavior. Humans seem to have an instinctive drive to kiss, but the way kisses are expressed is influenced tremendously by individuals’ culture and personal experiences. Yet unlike other human behaviors, science has barely begun to put kissing under the microscope despite its clear evolutionary and personal significance.

How does a kiss work? It acts like a drug by stimulating the natural chemicals in our bodies. When there’s real “chemistry” between two people, the right kiss can spark the magic of true romance by triggering a cocktail of hormones and neurotransmitters to course through our brains and bodies.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=jlwwSXvmgHI

Kissing keeps our bodies extremely busy interpreting an enormous amount of information as billions of little nerve connections distribute signals to help determine what happens next. As neural impulses bounce between the brain and the tongue, facial muscles, lips, and skin, these impulses produce a number of neurotransmitters that influence how we feel. The right kiss can lead to the feeling of being on a natural “high.”

One of the most important neurotransmitters kissing can promote is dopamine, which is involved in helping us feel rewarded and experience pleasure. Dopamine is likely the chemical basis for terms like “walking on air.” This is the neurotransmitter responsible for the type of intense desire that makes a new romance feel addictive. Dopamine spikes during novel experiences, and a first kiss with someone special more than fits the bill. It causes us to crave more and can even lead to a loss of appetite, insomnia, or euphoria.

Of course, dopamine is only one of many chemicals that guide our emotions during a kiss. Involved with strong feelings of attachment and intimacy, oxytocin is a hormone that can be triggered by kissing. Endocrinologists believe that it is the substance that helps keep love alive in long-term relationships after the initial novelty has subsided.

Meanwhile, a passionate kiss can also raise our level of serotonin, which leads to obsessive thoughts about the kissing partner. Scientists have observed that serotonin levels in subjects involved in new relationships look a lot like those in patients suffering from obsessive-compulsive disorder. Kissing also stimulates adrenaline, which helps our bodies to anticipate what might occur next. It boosts our heart rate, which reduces stress, and can make us break into a sweat. In other words, the body’s chemical response to a good kiss mirrors many of the same feelings frequently associated with falling in love.

Love isn’t just romantic. Our brains are primed to associate kissing with feelings of attachment and security from birth. A newborn’s earliest feeding experiences at his mother’s breasts involve movements and mouth pressure similar to kissing. These actions lay down the neural pathways in a baby’s brain that continue to be important in other powerful, bonding relationships throughout his life.

Under comfortable conditions, a kiss from someone we love lowers levels of the stress hormone cortisol, reducing uneasiness and making us feel secure. However, under pressure or in the wrong setting, it can have the opposite effect, which brings up kisses that do not go so well.

Research in evolutionary psychology reports that 59 percent of men and 66 percent of women have ended a budding relationship because of a bad first kiss. When the chemistry feels wrong, both partners instinctively sense they should back off.

How might this work? A kiss puts two people in very close proximity. Our sense of smell allows us to pick up subconscious clues about the other person’s DNA or reproductive status. Biologist Claus Wedekind found that women are most attracted to the scent of men who have a very different genetic code for their immune system in a region of DNA known as the major histocompatibility complex. Pairing off with a male who has a different set of genes for immunity can lead to children that will have a higher level of genetic diversity, making them healthier and more likely to survive. (However, it’s important to note that women who take the birth control pill exhibit the opposite preference.) So even though we may not be consciously aware of it, we use behaviors like kissing to judge whether to take a relationship further, based on genetic evidence. In this manner, it’s fair to say that the act of kissing serves as nature’s litmus test.

Not surprisingly, all of the intense stimulation that a positive exchange initiates can create a very vivid memory. When Butler University psychologist John Bohannon studied over 500 subjects, he discovered that most people remember more of the detail about their first kiss than their first sexual encounter, no matter if it took place five months or 50 years ago.

Whether the experience evokes fireworks and violins, or doesn’t quite live up to expectations, the kiss serves as the single most universal and humanizing practice we all share. It is a reliable way to gauge our relationships and express our emotions, far beyond that which words can convey.

Sheril Kirshenbaum is a science writer and research associate at the Center for International Energy and Environmental Policy at the University of Texas at Austin. She is also the author of The Science of Kissing: What Our Lips Are Telling Us. Kirshenbaum was a TEDGlobal 2011 speaker.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=AntDJJRgUjc

Bitches be like...

LOL

Friday, April 11, 2014

The Whore Whisperer

A frightened little girl, terrified of real monsters in the dark. Sabrina.

A recent seizure. Withdrawal Syndrome. Flu. Depression. Fear. Loneliness. Insecurity. She lays curled up and crumpled in the bed. What an uncomfortable position. I feel her pain. No wonder she can't sleep.

We're under the blanket. She can't stand to be touched. Too much pain from the seizure. Grand mal. Afraid of another one.

She frowns. Unhappy camper. I bet she does this a lot. Alone.

I gently massage her neck, scalp, temples and face. The frown relaxes to a smile. She coos little wimpering sounds of happiness, like a baby wild animal. Never heard such a sound before...

She snores. I doze. We awaken. I massage. She coos. She wimpers. We doze. Repeat.

I do this all night long.

We sleep late for a change. Rested. Refreshed. BF is busy, no chance of surprise visit. Feels nice. She's happy. I'm happy.

"Why did you make those wimpering sounds when I massaged you?"

"I loved it! That felt amazing."

"I'm glad. I've never seen you so sick."

"I love you." She says.

Life is good.

BTW she's not really a whore, just a stripper, who doesn't strip at the bikini bar, too preggie to work, who looks like a whore and acts like a whore to survive, and make a lot of money. A good mom fighting for her kids despite horrible odds. A beautiful lady, drowning in an ugly world of addictions and rape.

I love her. As a friend.

I drink from her Mountain Dew. I shouldn't have done that.

I catch Stripper Flu.

Adventures in the sex trade

June 7 2002

SOMEWHERE DOWN UNDER - Stand-up comedian turned brothel receptionist Meshel Laurie tells all in her comic one-woman show.

What's a nice girl like Meshel Laurie doing in a place like the Sydney Opera House? Then again, the Melbourne comic says the three years she spent working as a brothel receptionist prepared her for just about any eventuality.

It is, she says, a career in which a crisis occurs every 20 minutes and in which "you see things, hear things and, sometimes, assist in dislodging things you've only ever heard about".

Now 29, Laurie is about to share some home truths about brothels with Sydney audiences in her one-woman show The Whore Whisperer, which she has already played in Melbourne, Adelaide and at the Edinburgh Festival.

Laurie, who was born and bred in the Queensland town of Toowoomba, had a short stint at university studying acting before she made a name as a stand-up comic, first in Brisbane and later in Melbourne. Five years ago, tired of working four or five stand-up gigs a week, she got an offer from a friend that was too good to refuse.

"She said she was working in a brothel and they needed another receptionist," Laurie recalls. It sounded perfect. "A bit exciting, a bit different ... And it was also a transsexual brothel, so I knew that would be fun."

Laurie was a genuine innocent back then, with no knowledge or preconceptions of the sex industry. She certainly had no plans to turn her experiences into theatre.

"But the minute I walked through the door I thought, 'Oh hello - this is a show for sure'," she says.

That first night was quiet. "I can remember sitting at this desk with three or four transsexuals leaning over it, just taking turns to tell me outrageous stories and sizing me up, and shocking me ... They were ... just loving the expressions on my face as they were telling me these stories - stories about famous people, or just really weird people ..."

When she came to write the show two years ago, she realised her audiences were likely to be as ignorant of the sex industry as she had been on that first night. After three years in eight brothels, Laurie had become fairly jaded, but she set about trying to reconstruct events, and her reactions to them. "I thought, 'If I can remember back to that, then that will kind of make it chronological for the audience as well'."

The one-hour show is set around the reception desk of a busy brothel, and the incidents are based on real events.

Laurie was so good at the job that required the combined skills of mother, confidant, salesperson, nurse and banker, she considered making it her career.

Then, suddenly, she decided she'd had enough of the clients, the girls and the visits from the police.

Laurie isn't surprised that many prostitutes see her show. But she is still shocked when she recognises a client in the audience.

"One night there were two clients sitting in the front row ... I know I'm not going to say anything, but how could they be so sure?"

THE WHORE WHISPERER
Where: The Studio, Sydney Opera House
When: From Tuesday until June 22
How much: $25/$20
Bookings: 9250 7111

Monday, April 7, 2014

Scary Bitch* comes out to play

Love is patient, love is kind. It is not jealous, it is not pompous, it is not inflated, it is not rude, it does not seek its own interests, it is not quick-tempered, it does not brood over injury, it does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices with the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all. Love never fails. - so faith, hope, and love remain, but the greatest of these is love.

You forgot the part where Love calls at 2am screaming, got that wakeup call last night lol. I think she broke up with me, but she never actually said that....

I'm out of money anyway, thanks to her, so I wouldn't be seeing her again for 3 weeks. She knew that, I'd already told her, in a slightly loud and disturbed voice, "Please don't fuck me over!" I gave her everything I had, but it wasn't enough. It's never enough. She didn't care about me, or anyone else, her addiction was out of control. But something major has changed tonight....


Sabrina, the face that spanked 10,000 men and one W&H

"I'm NOT your GF!!!" her raspy voice screamed from the tinny droid speaker. What a great invention for safety during fights. So that's what her voice sounds like off opiates. Withdrawals a biatch.

"I know. Of course not." I replied calmly, awoken from a dead sleep while watching The Hoblit movie (as my demented dad calls it, "I don't like Hoblits.") We're just friends, that's most likely all we will ever be. More like asshole buddies, without the anal.

More screaming ensues. This is fun! Not those boring discussions we tend to have. She probably needs a good scream, like she desperately needs a good orgasm. After 28 years of marriage, I'm used to it, like when the ex met Miss Lovely lol.

It's tough arguing with a lady who has total amnesia. "I'm no lady!" she reminds me.

Not the kind of forgetting little things when convenient. Even though she's a shameless pathological liar.

I'm talkin grand mal seizures on a regular basis, where entire days are wiped clean from her brain injury. The kind her friends and family take advantage of...she's their $lave. Does this explain why she's a pathological liar, she just gave up trying to remember?

It's also tough dating a lady as the third wheel of a love triangle that has dozens of wheels, if not 100s. To be fair she swears I'm the only guy fucking her besides her married BF, for the past 19 months (6 months with me). But then, she's a pathological liar. We're having an affair behind her married BF's back. Her 6-foot-5-inch 300-pound tattooed semi-dope-dealing BF (lawful because he's a smart businessman, I know no details so FTP). No texting allowed, BF can read it or read the log, he's got kids so he knows how to do that creepy shit. I don't call her, she calls me, almost every day. To fuck, or daily HJs now during her healing from surgery. Finally I had to say Stop, no more sex, just repay the money you borrow, that's more important now.

He named me Serial Killer in her contact list haha. After their abortion last week, she calls him Killer now.... There is stress involved. And preggie hormones. And money...lots of it, or used to be....

She showed me her ultrasounds. Her handwriting on the margins, "I love you baby, Momma's sorry we're not gonna meet! I'm sorry!" She cried, part of her died, (then she lied?), I could not re$i$t.

"What's so special about me?" I previously inquired. "There's nothing special about you lol," she replied. I reminded her the day before she told me she loved me, held my hand and pulled me tight and wouldn't let go, then I spent the night after an exciting day of her having a seizure while driving my car. We almost died. No memory.

My dick is way bigger than his, according to stripper Katelynn, who did them both in a double. "More like a finger cot size of condom," she laughed.

It's hard to keep up with a high-maintenance stripper accustomed to nearly $100,000 a year income to play opiates with. Her rich business owner BF, her lawyer and her CPA can't even keep up with her desires. Two of the three are now in bankruptcy, possibly due to dipping into their business reserves to feed her pains.

Last week her lawyer cut her off because she wouldn't fuck him, replacing her with a girl she introduced. Bottom line is the bottom line, she's scared to death her BF is BK at risk of losing everything in his life, he's using me as a lame excuse to cut her off, losing her notel home, facing horrific withdrawal symptoms including seizures that could kill her, or look like they could.

Even I blew all my month's money on her in one week, as she begged, cried and dick-twisted during her suicidal abortion and seizure disasters. Friend helping friend in time of need. If we weren't friends I wouldn't waste my time on her. If we weren't friends she would never have invited me to dinner, accepted my 90-minute massage then fucked me. I prefer the term "date", prostitution or FWFB sounds too cold for what we do, which is far more than fucking. We are friends, who fuck, for money, because that's the only time these girls fuck anybody, or love anybody, same as any married woman lol.

An addicted woman with manic depression and claimed multiple personalities who's been gang-raped and forced to dig her own grave by rival pot dealers.

But hey, sometimes we must compromise in relationships, right? Right? Fuck you.

Last night I got a series of frantic calls and texts from Sabrina. Not for our usual bootycall liasons. Which was just as well because she's already conned me out of all my money for this month, with her suspected fake date of post-abortion, OD suicide watch and real life seizure while driving my car. She denies strongly that she lied on the abortion date, but she said a different day to me after the seizure and amnesia, same as she told Katelynn before the seizure. I felt especially bad for her this week and tried to help ease her tears, pain and loneliness, at my expense. Even had a real date yesterday but was unable to afford dinner and gas for my hot little guest in a bikini with her kids, all cuz of Sabrina (and Miss Lovely's doper friends who defaulted on payment of loan). To me that's what friends are for, to help each other without judging, and hopefully without enabling. Or robbing. Or hurting.

Seems her stalker married BF sugardaddy (or somebody...) noticed a couple of pics on my Fuckbook account that looked remarkably similar to "his" GF sugarbaby. Fair enough, I shouldn't have posted those since she asked me not to, since I'm the backdoor man for her "monogamous" love-hate relationship with her married man. Forgot about them actually, buried under 1000s of others. No tags. I removed them as soon as she told me to. I have 100s of pics on FB of beautiful lady models who are my friends, some of whom I fuck. Married BF won't let "his" stripper GF shoot pics with me, something about I would steal her soul and pussy lol. We fuck anyway of course. She enjoys throwing my breakable gifts at his unbreakable truck... a Freudian sign of True Love.... but love for whom??? She unfriended me, I blocked all non-friends from snooping, was planning to do that anyway this month for job hunting. Can't stop the frenemies though....


"Crazy" is often defined as "passionate"

But the pics were nothing he didn't already know since he uses her iPhone GPS app to track her every move, even following us in his huge truck while she drives my tiny car, something she loves to do and makes her happy. She even pulls up beside him and we ditch him laughing when he does that. So that pic of her driving my car was nothing new to BF. Nobody else is crazy enough to let her drive their car, except her lawyer, before he replaced her last week for not puttin out, or for her driving 105 mph in his Bimmer. So the pic of her driving my car was not news to her BF... the problem with that photo was is showed her playing dress-up for ME.

Even her BF tells her to "be on her best behavior" sometimes. My comment on the pic hurt her feelings ("dinner at XXX will never be the same"), unintentionally. So she made it a point to hurt mine, as much as possible. The most painful barbs contain an element of Truth. Normally I like Truth, it's a great way to maintain sanity without drugs or alcohol. My friends are constantly amazed I want to hear their Truths, and they tell me things they've never told anyone else their entire lives. Including Sabrina and dozens more. Truth, my friends, is Love.... Love and hate are often indistinguishable...two sides to the same coin.

She texted, "The reason you're lonely is..." Ouch! Mostly based on false memories. If you need to attack somebody to feel better, bring it. She once told me the reason she's lonely is her married BF spends every night with his wife and kids, and her kids are stolen by DCS who gave them to pedophile dopers who tried to murder her.


Sabrina is so ALIVE. But she's not...

I post 3 innocent pictures, but she spills her guts on "Childish FB" for all the world and his wife to see. Her FB posts tell her Truth:

"I miss you so much when you're gone... Wishing I wasn't alone all the time... nights are the hardest... so many nights restless wishing someone was holding me but I'm always alone and don't see it changing... things aren't perfect with us anymore... you don't care how I'm feeling... you just got me when you want me... real love shouldn't make me feel bad... I only want what's best for you and I'm not it... so lost and confused... no matter what I do I still lose... I know that what I want can never be possible, couldn't be good enough anyways.... (On the way to Debtors Prison,) Lord give me the strength to cope and deal with this situation, you know how hard it's gonna be the way I feel for the first time in my life, I'm so scared! Damn I love my man, no matter what sweetie you're worth the wait... It's amazing how you'll change for a person who will never love you or want you the same, CRAZY!!!"

As a friend, I'm there day and night to take up the slack and keep her sane, or try to, but only when she calls begging me to. And talk her down from train robberies... I presume keeping her out of jail is important to her BF. She especially loved and missed his $4,000-a-month gifts to her.... She says she don't believe in God anymore, "I'm afraid there's nobody up there listening to me," but I pray for her anyways. I hear her, almost every day.

The second pic was a side shot from a video she agreed to shoot for a college project. Her face was not visible in the pic, but she talked to the large camera in the video. She even wrote the script herself, smiling on her way to work at the stripclub. I was in her room for 5 minutes. I think she paid $10 for my gas to drive her to work, back when she was fair and balanced. Total amnesia.

The third was a generic artsy shot of her bra hanging from a lampshade. Not because of me, she was just drying it after washing. A popular art shot with 26-million similar pics on google. Her bra was not identifiable as caressing her boobage. It was a beautiful shot, the calm before the storm.

"Lose my number I'm his GD girl!" And other mean and hateful things. But no complaints about the size of my manhood lol. I never call her number, except to return her missed calls, as she orders me to do, almost daily.

I calmly reply in my defense (my calm tone further enrages her of course), trying to feed her memories of times forgot, to use in her defense with her married stalker BF. Not even I want her sugardaddy to stop paying her way, though he is her #1 enabler, perhaps making it harder for her to clean up...even she says that. Same for her stepdaddy, impossible to get clean around the two of them, she says, so she will never get her kids back without leaving them.... So perhaps me "making" her jealous BF break up with her is the best thing that could happen, the event needed to get her clean, so she can dump me just like ML did? That would be awesome, my job is done. Or losing her married BF could destroy her and kill her. Oh well, I tried my best as she asked me to do, sorry if it wasn't good enough. Or too much.

"I don't even want another GD text from u ever." And more hateful things, her feelings and addiction are clearly hurt. My post didn't poke fun at her, it admired my special memory of our profanity laced Sunday dinner, speaking the fuckword often and shoplifting food with the lil old church ladeez, while dressed awesome in skintight dress, babybump and stripper heels. Which really is a fond memory for me. Bucketlist for sure. I love it when a lady says the word FUCK, in public or private. She can really turn on the heat when she wants to. Even her BF has to tell her when to be on her best behavior lol.


We make a handsome couple don't ya think? Just friends...

More legal defense from myself, calmly helping her handle her jealous BF's objections. Standard sales technique. She's perhaps the best most-ruthless salesperson I've ever met. And she's hot hot hot. Except when she's not. Withdrawals are a personality transplant.

The only reason I shot video of her seizure driving my car was that when we got to the ER the doctors could perhaps identify which drug would be best for that type of seizure, but she awoke from her coma before we got there, and she didn't want to go, saying no meds work or make it worse. I believe her. Her seizures started as a child, after getting run over by a car while visiting her mother the hooker, long before her drug use. This seizure was precipitated by heroin withdrawal, walking, flashing lights and malnutrition. At least I now recognize the warning signs: eyelids fluttering, eyeballs rolling back in skull while talking, looking very pale and sickly perhaps from very low blood pressure. She knows the signs too, and pulled off the road and parked before going haywire, saving us from near certain death.

"Oh. Don't text me again."

"Ok then"

She's always told me to never text her, nothing new there. Guess she forgot. Like she forgot the $60 she promised to repay me yesterday, or the $760 she owes me, not countin my food and gas investments. Not counting the fucking investments, excellent value, except for all the cash n dash. It'll be a couple of days before she calls again...laughing. Or three weeks till payday, which she literally knows down to the second at 5am, as she proved this month.

Actually the next day, but not laughing, not yet, still hurting, bad. Times are changin... for better or worse? I apologize again, pray for her and wish her the best. I will miss her hugs, best I've ever had...mommy hugs full of love... hugs so good other jealous strippers take me to lunch, throw themselves at me and rip their clothes off in my bedroom.


When she's not telling me to fuck off, Sabrina tells me this

She did save my heart from Miss Lovely's demolition derby, as even ML's parents warned me would happen lol. I thanked her often for that therapy. She usually just shrugged in apathy, this Grand Master of PUA. I'm always proud to be seen with her, even on her darkest days and nights. Her smile can light up my universe. Her laughter is intoxicating. Her sluttiness is liberating. Her love is empowering, when she allows it. "I love you, as my friend...my very very fucked up friend lol." She laughed.

Sabrina don't want a man who's actually available, too scary, fear of abandonment. Maybe for the best to lose her BF enabler? Hope she gets clean and finds a man with a real job who loves her for who she is and is always available for her, day and night. Especially those lonely nights, that's why she asked me to stay there. She attacked me for being lonely, with her false memories someone else put in her head, but she said she's lonely too. She's chasing the impossible fairy tale, chased by demons. Was she most angry because I wasn't going to call her or text her, to give her money for 3 weeks? All arguments boil down to money, or lack of, don't they? I'm the only one pulling her in the direction of getting clean, something she says she's desperate to do to get her kids back. She's a much tougher case to cure than Lovely, the cancer is more embedded in her family life and professional life. The rape trauma was far more traumatic in "quality" than Lovely's quantity if that's possible, yet in some ways "better" since it did not happen in childhood. Her legal problems are much more expensive to fix. Her medical issues are much more severe but perhaps controllable by someone living with her every day. I estimate $10,000 would set her on the right path, keep her out of jail, get her back to work, living in proper housing to get her kids back. Will anyone step up? Can I man up? Have I lost her?

Did Sabrina really break up with me? Then I just saved a ton of money with goodbye. And eliminated my risk of going to jail. Woohoo.


Wild Bill loves his porn stars just like W&H

Lovely

That same morning I got a call from Miss Lovely to bring booze and go play with her hot lil GFs, one married ex stripper who already said she wants to fuck me, the other is a stripper I'd already met on my own...... And she wanted to borrow money, of course, had her stripper friend make the call, Amelia.

"I love stripping! Made $3,000 in a couple of hours (same as me selling cars). I love taking my top off too, and I'm an ass girl," Amelia bragged. Broken Doll. Heroin Girl.

Did ML know? I doubt it, ML's a codependent enabler now. She earned over $100,000 a year fucking, I respect that. As a guy, I'm jealous of that!

"Why didn't you tell me that when we first met at counseling? That's how you should start every conversation," I teased. Another active doper fighting unsuccessfully to get her baby back. ("They're the only people who understand me!" ML pleads to the clean and sober me she don't wanna be around.) Her daddy is shacked up with a young doper whore, one of ML's high school buddies. Small World.


ML & Sabrina: Would you trust these stripper girls with everything you own? W&H does...

ML already has my credit card #, and my house key.... And she's missing her married BF... off to work for a change while the little girls play... and call me.

She demanded two visits same day, and even paid me back her debt. "Thank you! Nobody does that, you're the most honest person I know." Pathetic, I know.

Then ML kicked me out before her married BF got home from his rare workday.


"He's not my pimp!" who calls himself Pimp, calls her Hooka, has his niggas in da hood call her runnin pimp game threats while we fucked and laughed, says he wants to donkeypunch ML in the back of the neck

"He really hates you!" (But what about you? Do you hate me? Do you hate him? Does he hate both of us?)

"Why?" I inquire.

"For everything!"

"Can you be more specific?" (Probably for narcing on his recent drug buys, he should be thankful I nipped it in the bud, so they can get their daughter back. Better me than the court.)

"When he wanted to kick your ass."

"I was just joking and trying to defuse the situation." Where her ex customer and former roommate granpasugardaddy invited her on vacation to the beach, after he tried to murder her BF and off himself. I sold him a sauna, seemed like a nice normal guy, nice house, though his live-in mother looked at me funny when I left with "his" young GF. I mentioned the fact that several ex customers are in love with her, by her own admission. "Fuck you, do you want to get killed?!" she hissed at the time.

"I would have let him do it, too!" (kick my ass, perhaps not kill me?)

"He'd just fall down and pass out on the ground," I replied matter-of-factly, and he did, further riling her sense of Oh-my-God-I-fucked-up-picking-the-wrong-BF-but-I-will-never-admit-it. I'm such a good friend I paid for his booze and helped pick him up before the cops came. Or maybe he'd beat the crap out of me as a teenage boxer from ages past?

A jealous pimp, as daddy calls him. ("He's not my pimp why does everybody say that?! I'm an independent contractor," she used to say.) He was her employee on $1,000 a month salary for room and board, and one sexual favor max per week lol. He's the only guy who let's her fuck everybody she wants, male or female, and he never cheated on her. I certainly would never agree to that, and I told her so, after she asked me to take his place if he refused to clean up. I could do an open relationship both ways, I told her, but a one-way open relationship would be emotional suicide for me, like it is for her BF. "He's loyal. I've got to give him a chance," she once told me, after fucking me.


Guess we wont be playing in the pool today that me n ML fucked in

"You have to leave now, he's coming home soon." I'd been there 5 minutes or 15 minutes. At least I got my money repaid, the most important thing to my survival this month.

Her (our) doper friends looked shocked on the couch, the couch we fucked on. Her doper friends who sold dope to her BF, risking her baby forever, and I narced to save her (not my place, didn't want to, it was an emergency). Her doper friends that may have lost their kids forever, yet whom I helped today get an impossible suboxone appointment, to save their lives for their babies. Her doper friends that now get daily visitation with family, something ML's family refuses to give her despite being clean and sober. Our doper friends whose parents say I'm the kind of clean and sober friend they need, same as Lovely's parents said. I'm their only clean and sober friend that don't run away from the insanity. Does that make me insane?

At NA we guys laugh about how hard it is to run away and detatch from hot young doper girls, especially those actively using in "recovery". ML's self image is so low now, thanks to family? Why can't her family talk WITH her and just love her? Even clean and sober, I worry for her safety and sanity. And his, he's my friend, I like to think. We both care for her, literally. We understand, better than anybody. Sometimes the worst feeling in the world is to understand.

"He's my man." Who she said she's not in love with. Who she fucked 50 guys with. Who let a transvestite lick his cum out of her, often. Who dealt her drugs, and let her fuck to buy his. I can't compete with that. He kept her warm during long lonely nights, but so did I. I solved all her financial challenges, I solved all her housing challenges, I solved most of her legal problems, I kept her out of jail, and I gave her the best orgasms of her life, often the only orgasms she said, all day and all night, something he can't compete with. She once asked me to be Her Man. Then I lost her.

"I know." I only loved her as a friend. She said she loved me as a friend, often, during sex and otherwise.

"OK, let me get a hug then."

"No, how about a handshake?" Her guests look shocked again, as we play out our little Peyton Place for their entertainment. Her friends love to hug me, and more.

"Sure, a handshake..."

We reach out to each other, as I pull her close for a hug. She resists, but not much. We touch, we hug, a little, in friendship.

"My BF doesn't even get that!" She smiles in surprise. And shock. I broke down the barrier? She needed that, my love cup was already full, hers needed filling. But it's a far cry from her telling me to take her without asking, without payment, and I did, once upon a time. My nude Hooters girl friend suggested to go ahead and hug people you're angry with, she does, whether feelings are hurt or not. Good advice. Man up.

"I know. That's very dangerous for you." To cut yourself off from human touch, because your baby has been stolen, and not even your parents will give you full visitation. They hate her married BF pimp addict dealer, as they call him, but punishing her for choosing him is nearly killing her. I very much disagree with their decision, it can literally kill her. Parents of addicts usually stop loving their addicts, falling for the Tough Love brainwash, her stoner daddy pulled that shit since she was 2 years old. Funny how stoners look down on other addicts. Funny how ML is turning into a snobby right-wing conservative Republican to please Daddy, while she gets free welfare in the ghetto. I did everything I could to convince her parents to accept her choice in BF, for the good of their grandchild and daughter, at my great expense. I can share. These ladies taught me how to do that. He did give her the baby that saved her life, allegedly.

She doesn't want me to leave, it shows. I'm just playing with her now. Trying to hit all the points I needed to make that visit, DVD updates etc, in a short time while winging it.

She didn't really like Spring Breakers, "It just turned into a shooting spree." She threatened to shoot me last month, "if she had a gun". If she didn't have opiates, "she wanted to kill all her customers," she said.

"You should watch Requiem for a Dream," me and her friends suggest.

"I saw it," she said in a bored tone. I guess fucking a chick in the ass with a double dong for a room full of strange men just to get drugs was a typical day at work for her, once upon a time. "I loved Leonardo DeCaprio though," her Italian DNA made her wild side. Wrong Requiem, not Basketball Diaries. Wonder what she'd trigger with Requiem? Guess I'll never know.

"Goodbye." I leave her with the doped and drunk man and woman she's been fondling and trying to fuck for months, behind her passed out BF's back and in front of his drunken face, while refusing to touch me. Because she's addicted to addicts, who deal dope to her BF. I asked them to be kind to her when fucking, she's my friend, she's more fragile than she acts. Why do I get the feeling I'm the only person who believes in her?

On the drive home, she texts, "I'm sorry."

"I understand."

"I'll ask him if you can come over later."

"Sure I'd like that." Not likely she'll ask, not likely he'll say Yes. Cockblock. He's going to a very dark place, back to drug addiction with his alcoholism, despite her protestations too much. I hope his counseling kicks in before its too late. No more dinner, DVD and vodka nights, the 3 of us? I will miss those very much. ML said the only reason BF is (sort of) clean and (sort of) working was his jelousy of me -- if I'm not around no need for either.... I just get to pay her bills, and loan her dozens of DVDs, to keep her boredom from turning her depression back into addiction. I'm now her official Backdoor Man, again, a role I tried to avoid with her desire for an honest open relationship, as we had before. She taught me well, but I fucked it up, partly with this fictional blog. Hard to go totally dark with comsec when you actually care about somebody, I doubt she could do it despite her juggling 50 dicks on caller ID.

Body Artiste

Thank God for Susan, my wet bikini girl covered in tats. A second date already scheduled that same weekend. Should be nice hangin out with someone clean and sober with her shit together....

Our second date in the pool and jacuuzi is pleasant and brutally honest. Both of us discover our dark sides rather quickly. Both of us testing the waters for sharks. A single mom in recovery, a single man in need of family. Both of us wary of reality, been there done that.


So far only fucked ML in this hawt tub, filter removes 90% of sperm

Did we pass our tests?

Susan is very similar to my other friends (addicted to heroin, psych meds, suboxone, money issues, in love with a babydaddy but sad she's not with him), but "better" in other ways (working a real job as a tattoo artist, house, car, custody of cute kids, suboxone).

Nothing I can't handle. She's my only lady friend not a stripper or ex stripper (not 100% sure), though she's got the body for it. And knows it. And knows she works next door to a strip club.

She told her son to be a good boy.

"But girls only like bad boys," I interrupt.

"Don't tell him that!" she smiles.

"But it's true," I say.

"I know, but I don't want him to think that."

"Good guys need to stop giving up so easily, they need to man up and stick around," I reveal the secret.

"Exactly!" She liked that...SCORE.

"I think of myself as a Good Guy who won't quit when it gets scary lol." She smiles, a slightly scary smile...SCORE 2.

"Have you ever been to jail?" I refuse to answer, just smile.... She looks at me sideways and begins to smile.

"Just 3 times."

"What for?" she asks. I delay my answer, she smiles.

"I've been twice," she volunteers.

Fun little Truth or Dare on a variety of topics.

Hmm...does suboxone block orgasm same as roxy? Got a lot of experience fixin that with Miss Lovely...and she loved it! She got off the antidepressants after 2 days, so she dodged that orgasm-killing bullet.

I got to observe her freak out on the phone, when her sister cancelled their planned free dinner (and free sitter for our date rape?). Bipolar much? I smell FWFB. She stabs people with holes for a living.

Nothing I can't handle. She don't scare me at all, but I do know what the hell I'm getting into. As a fixer upper she appears to have most of the hard work already done (or she's crashing and burning?). Although young, she does have a lot of miles under her belt, a lot of pain and distrust to overcome. Then there's the 2 or more kids, unknown custody issues, unknown BF/babydaddy issues, unknown family issues in 3 states. What went wrong with babydaddys? What went right? Just another temp friend, or maybe more?

It's a journey of exploration, not the destination, that's most fun. A friendship forged in raging hot water. Will it stand the icy tests of time and dollars?

Catch u later, gentle reader. Good luck in the art of love and war.

Update: Texted Sabrina the next day with suboxone dr #, smartass reply was from a guy, either married BF or addicted stepdaddy? Is it really over with Sabrina? Thank God before she destroyed me.

*Scary Bitch is the highest form of flattery according to the PhD author of Secret Diary of a Callgirl.

Now I'm datin 4 strippers maybe more, bitches b screamin at me tellin me f u ahole I got me a married man bf don't mess wit my married bf I'm in tru luv I be like ho u busted marriages n relationshits all day long on a daily basis as ur professional job so y da fuk do I care about makin ur married bf jealous now wen u b da one callin me several times every day to cum over n giv u wat u need tellin me u luv me lmfao

Porn sex vs real sex

Thursday, April 3, 2014

Cracking the sky

The lightning bolt snaked down to obliterate the...
a bird swam thru air narrowly missing...
the torrent smashed windows...
speeding through night time...
sirens wailed...
lights flashed emergency...
a crash scene...
I smiled...
Dang now that's how it's supposed to be done! I remember...

"I'm gonna be late," Ashton sexts.

"I'm in the jacuuzi sippin a beer with 7 lovely ladies. I be ok."

"LMFAO see you soon!"

I enjoy seeing and bumping wet seminaked young hotties discussing their lesbian tendencies. No guys in view. I swim the heated pool to cool off.

"I've got two hot dates tonight, stacked one after the other. That's how you do it. That's how hot girls do it. They teach me how to do it. They're experts at pickup." Two young would-be-studs flip out, feeding their fear of rejections, chasing after other guys' girls (one married with wife about to miscarry), desperate to find relief, failing miserably once they realize the girl deleted her number, not adding it to his contact list. I smile. I brew.


Sabrina is waiting for me

"When are you going to be here?" Sabrina begs again in her pitiful raspy voice.

She needs to pick up antibiotics from her surgical assassintion, her BF had to get back to work and wifey, her daddy refused to drive. My text message rings, can she hear that? Ashton must be here, waiting at the door. I do everything I can to get her off the phone.

"Yeah, Im almost done with class, I'll be there as soon as I can. I gotta go."

I can't leave a half naked hooker standing on my front doorstep, what will the nosy neighbors think? On second thought, yeah, leave her there as long as possible, let the neighbors appreciate what they're missing. Try not to lol. Pitiful Sabrina says ok, please hurry. End call, check msg, yup, my hooker outcall is here, waiting for service.


Ashton arrives for play with Whores & Hookers

I open the door, Ashton is standing there, in her very whorish outfit, beautiful.

A shredded mesh shirt reveals her ornate bra for the world to see. Tight low rider jeans reveal some of her body piercings. Her shoes draw the eyes from top to bottom, glittering by fluorescent glow in moonlight.

"Cum in," I smile, said the spyder to the fly.

We hug and kiss like old friends should. GFE begins. I close the door.

She smiles as we walk past the portfolio of my beautiful conquests, including Miss Lovely. "I want to take pictures!" she gushes.

I love it when they say that. Miss Lovely used to say that. Ashton is here to heal those wounds on the battleground of loves. She knows exactly what to do, and loves doing it, with me. The music plays beats of love.

We sit on my bed. Amazingly difficult to get good girls and wannabe good girls to do that. The talking begins, catching up on our personal lives. So many of these girls love to talk, so many of their clients refuse to listen, opportunity lost. Half price is my reward.

She describes her recent arrest and mugshot on the cover of a local extortion rag. Is it true they only publish pics on the cover if you smile?

"I was with my baby daughter, she saw everything!" she almost cries. "I had no idea there was a warrant, my lawyer said everything was taken care the week before, all charges dismissed." Her accuser had been arrested for the crime.

Her arrest was for failure to appear at a secret hearing, something the papers alleged had been fixed with so many lawsuits paid by taxslaves for illegal activies of popo, arresting so many innocents. Guess the papers lied, again, that's their job.

I describe the recent attempts to set her up by a disgruntled customer or ex BF, relayed from the message board of undercover intelligence.

"Be careful please," I advise. She's cyberstalked in retaliation for cash and dash on a customer, I promise myself to be careful.


Ashton's lil friend

We talk of her beautiful mystery woman on Fuckbook. It's her best friend, not a lesbian lover. I'm relieved, yet sad, I'd fuck both and love doing it. She's not a lesbian, but she's done 3 doubles, still a newby, "I like dick too much!" Love to hear that, Miss Lovely says the same. She describes her lovely doubles partner. I love the sound of her.

I begin undressing her as we continue talking. She complies. I like that in a woman. We both need release, in word and deed.

I love winning. I love beating the competition. She fucks 20 guys a week, same as Miss Lovely did before her retirement. I beat all 50 of ML's former customers, but not her loser deadbeat alcoholic addict ex-dealer pimp alleged babydaddy BF...that's what her daddy called him, can he turn it around and provide for our Miss Lovely? He's a friend, was apparently a Nice Guy once upon a time. Can I step up and provide for Miss Lovely, if required? Im working on that, big career changes.

But Ashton is cutting back, the economy is failing, she's not advertising, too many dangers, UTR is the game, "I've got too much to lose." She's hungry to supplement her real part-time job, bills to pay and play. She wants to go to college, engineering, I can help her get paid for that, I'm about to graduate the college of engineering. A friendship grows. I massage. Healing touch. Hard to maintain train of thought as orgasms burst from my monitors, music for the ears. Talking resumes with a smile... stripping mentality for ladies and gents, how to fuck doubles, two girls and one guy.

Time to crack the sky. She breaks communication as I hit her clit. Talking is getting more difficult. I move between her legs, opening them to my tongue. She loves this part.

"How many clients give you oral?"

"Not enough!"

"How many get you off?"

"Not enough...." She gasps....


Ashton gets another licking from Whores & Hookers

I get her off. Again and again. Her wimpers, moans and screams escape through the open window, the first real night of spring. Dozens can hear. I like that in a woman. Thirty minutes of screaming and laughing. Rollar coaster ride.

I think of Miss Lovely. I miss her. I miss doing this to her. I miss her moans and screams. I need Ashton so much, repairing the hole in my heart. I hope they meet someday, with me in the middle, two girls who love dick but enjoy a beautiful naked woman getting them off.

"Let's go 69," I direct the show. She happily complies, slurping my hard dick with her tongue ring, stopping only to moan and scream from another orgasm.

Time to fuck, cowgirl style.

Her cumming continues. Grinding the right spots for her pleasure. I love watching that. I love hearing that. Her little comments are priceless. Gotta shoot a porn next time! Again.

She tires, we move to doggie. More lube for gliding it in, she coos. We pound to the beat of orgasmic whore music, Miss Lovely's favorite Fuckmachine. Her screaming mounts. I like that in a woman.

No clock. I love that in a woman. Hated that with Miss Lovely, cured her of that eventually.

Amazed by my endurance. That gym membership is paying off. But time is a factor, for both of us. Babysitters don't last forever.

Move to handjob. Very nice, needs more training, less time pressure, less stress, less medication, more healing by medication and nutrition, definitely more income. Yeah high blood pressure affects my dick, makes it bigger but numb. (Progress has now been made woohoo.)

"It's okay. My stripper friend will finish me off." She smiles, less pressure for her, her needs have been met, for once.

We end. Get dressed. She can barely stand haha.

This visit is more about her joy, building a bond, unbreakable? Comfortable. Friends with benefits. A callgirl doesn't always have sex, it's about time, lawful companion, occasional lovers.

"So many orgasms I quit counting!" Ashton grinned, her perfect teeth shining like a beacon of hope on the shores of oblivion, lost in time... She says she's clean. ML was always on opiates until the end, even 90 minutes of oral couldn't get her off sometimes, all fixed when she cleaned up, when 5 minutes of licking got the job done. I want to do her again, but she (and her BF) can never know?

My new lil hooker loves to fuck, me. Her first visit to my home, was a very good one. Goodbye. We'll do it again, soon. She borrows my book and DVD, Secret Diary of a Callgirl.

I check the cell, Sabrina's waiting patiently, rush out the door, fire up the motor, go go go.


Sabrina is happy to see Whores & Hookers

I knock on her door, bearing dinner. She's wearing her slutty dancer clothes, tight tank top and booty shorts, but she's no slut. Celebate except for her married BF and me. I'm the only other man for the past 19 months. Why, I ask?

"IDK, I remember we made a connection that first time."

"Yeah, I think so too. Very unusual. I could tell you were in danger, you wanted help, you actually fell asleep in front of the stage you were so relaxed as I massaged your neck and back. You trusted me instantly. You gave me your number and real name. Strippers just don't do that with customers." Not even hookers.

"You were different. I can't stand to be touched. Except by you."

Many dancers say that to me, but none followed up like Sabrina. Their lives were sustainable. Hers isn't. She needs me. I don't run away, by refusing everyone's advice from friends, family and her former employers at the strip club. Her friends are stepping up, her lawyer, her CPA, her rich BF, but the economy and her addiction are successfully destroying all 3.

Her married BF's finances were failing, her addiction needed sustaining, "to feel normal, not to get high." The thrill is gone, the first step to healing. I've heard that before, with Miss Lovely, now cured. I don't want to replace BF, can't afford her high-maintentence drug dealers. After 6 months of fucking and getting fucked over, I really don't think Sabrina is The One for me. Other than dope, my main gripe perhaps is her lack of desire to be my cuddlebuddy on our nights alone, too many seizures, too many rapes, too many disappointments...for now.... But Ashton hugged and cuddled me enough for the three of us, today. Sabrina's lack of orgasms is disturbing, and my challenge. I certainly fixed that problem with Miss Lovely.

We discuss that, things are changing. Her and her BF now admit they will probably never be together forever, his wifey has stepped up her game, feeling the heat of jealousy, as his finances falter, no more $1,000 a week sugarbaby. Her ability to work has been destroyed by Uncle Scam. I'm trying to man up, not replace her man. We talk long, about many things.

She can't fuck this month, killing her lovechild has killed her vajayjay, if not her love, heart and soul. Healing takes time. I spent my last 10 years of marriage without sex (from the wife), so I can wait 30 days.

She volunteers her handjob services, I accept, I'm training her well, defusing her rage... no more pain! She wisely takes care of her man (men) when she's incapacitated by pains. Miss Lovely never learned that life lesson, which is why I met Sabrina.

I strip. Lay on her freshly made bed. She sits beside. She grabs my cock. I like that in a woman. We talk. She pumps. I come, "Like a pornstar," she says.

"Why do you like watching me cum?" I like watching the hunger in her eyes.

"I just like seeing your Seizure Face LOL" From a girl suffering seizures for almost 20 years.

"LOL. Thank you, I really needed that!" I tell her details of fucking Ashton. She's seen our videos. She smiles when she realized I wasn't slaving in class the entire night, she's not the only liar and player in the room. I like that about our friendship, we can discuss our fucks without overdosing on jealousy.

"You're like a girlfriend I can talk to," Sabrina smiles, wiping up cum.

"Good. You like fucking your girlfriends, don't you?" I smile. We plan to fuck them together.

"Thanks for saving me from ML. I got way too close while saving her life and baby, but I had to, nobody else wanted to help get the job done. I was in shock when she had a nervous breakdown and cut me off sexually and emotionally, but not physically, while I had to keep paying all her bills to keep her out of jail, stay clean and get her baby back. You really made the difference. Couldn't have survived and functioned without you."

"Glad to help. We help each other."

Sabrina gives good advice, her recent pregnancy put a new spin on my lovestory with Miss Lovely.

"Preggie hormones create a bond in the mother ten times stronger than normal love. I told my BF this, how he can't understand it, no man can, and we shared that bond briefly. That's most likely what happened to you with ML, those preggie hormones kicked in with her babydaddy, that's a bond that's hard to break, especially when she got clean."

But ML is still trying to fuck other men and women, not committed 100% to her BF.... I'm still spending time with her.... I'm not out of her game.... I'm upping mine....

At some point Sabrina and I discuss our two first fights this week. Only misunderstandings. All good. Trust restored. But pain lingers. Healed by orgasms. She needs some. Desperately. From me. Opiate of the God, blocked by opiates.

She sexts her BF, same every night, often while we're together. He can't talk on the phone with his wife in the next room. They don't sleep together. Their mutual mental masturbation lasts about an hour.

She makes fun of my Fuckbook, "That's drama for high school kids."


Playboy Playmate for Whores & Hookers on Fuckbook

"I know, your life is so much real drama. Not everybody gets attention like a hottie girl like you. But I'm not jerking off, I'm talking with my friend a Playboy Penhouse model, as she discusses her crush on her latest hot GF. Here's the nudie pics I shot of her in her hotel room as she passed through town here...." I impress Sabrina, perhaps, with my superiority over high school drama queens, preferring pornstar drama queens.

"I also just got a photo job on Fuckbook, shooting half naked lady models at the pool. They're shooting a video too, that that should be fun."

"Just don't post my shit on there, it's private."

"I won't." LOL. It's how I stay sane without opiates.

It will take at least $10,000 to cure Sabrina's addiction and heal her life, eliminating legal barriers to her working a real job, without having to flee the police state out the back door. Much more expensive than curing Miss Lovely. Can't afford her cure right now, working hard on that. Can't even strip in town anymore, business is slow for girls who refuse sexual favors, and no club will hire her now, patrons are spooked by cops, apparently. Once healed, she plans her escape to an out of town strip club, with me as weekend escort, BF not invited, fast cash to survive, hopefully. We shall see....

No pain no gain. I must make amends for my homicidal government service helping kill defenseless women and children. FTP

We sleep, deep, snuggled with her daddy's pitbull. Restful! Recharged! Loved. A storm rages, oblivion. We both awaken 5 minutes before my 6am alarm, our bodyclocks in sync. Gotta go before BF arrives. I dine on the Strippers Diet of donuts and sodapop. Gotta buy her vitamins again, they cure seizures as well as depression and addiction.

"Take that bottle. I don't want your friend's pussyjuice in my Mello Yello!"

Ha. We do laugh, alot. And cry.

Goodbye.

I text Ashton, "Thanks for the awesome evening!" Gave her the update with happy ending.

"Well Im glad I cud briten ur day and make u feel a little better and I had a great time with u hun! I'm glad she didn't lie to u and u was able to b there for her. Ur really a gud friend from the sounds of it. I started reading the book last night, I'm gonna read it first then the movie. Lol thank u so much for lettin me borrow those."

Empowering, validating, recovering, words of wisdom from a clean and sober PhD doctor of loving, from the land where prostitution is a lawful profession, and now the highest rated show on TV, and across the pond.

A friendship begins, grows, blossoms in spring... other friendships take a pounding, literally... the violent cycle of life goes on.