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A New York Escorts Confessions
Carnival of Sin Update
As discussed last time, there’s no Carnival of Sin this week. Next Carnival is on Monday, December 6. Please submit your stories here.
Thanksgiving
I hope that everyone had a good Thanksgiving weekend! My brother’s family and I flew into Dulles to spend the weekend at my mom’s home in McLean. The turkey and other fixin’s were great. Even my sister-in-law, who always nags me about settling down with some guy, didn’t bother me as much because she was so busy with their kids and with helping my mom prepare the dinner.
The only real problem was the pupmpkin pie that I managed to royally screw up despite the super easy recipe — guess I’ll never be a model housewife…
Sarcasm aside, I really do love Thanksgiving.
It’s one of the few holidays that’s remained true to its original meaning and that’s largely unadulterated with rampant commercialism. Not that there’s anything wrong with buying nice things, but I truly enjoyed just spending time with my family (even my sister-in-law) over the weekend.
We simply don’t see each other enough. And just like every other year, we promise to see each other more.
Viva Las Vegas — Sin City (Part 5)
Before leaving Vegas last weekend, we get one more spa treatment followed by a night of partying. I wanted to return to the Bellagio spa in the hopes of seeing M again. My friend Amber, though, tells me that she has the hook up at the Luxor Spa. I’m not sure if that means that she has a friend that would give us a break on the price or if she has someone that would hook her up with some lovin’. Either way, the Luxor isn’t all that bad. Although it may be a themed casino hotel, the Luxor’s not nearly as cheesy as Circus Circus or the Imperial Palace. And Oasis is supposed to be nice as far as spas go.
We arrive at the Oasis Spa and Amber immediately finds her friend, a pretty blonde named Randi (name changed to protect her privacy), who works there. Because we hadn’t reserved in advance, Randi tells us that we won’t be able to get any massages or treatments for two hour. Maybe Amber’s hook up isn’t all that great.
While we wait, we decide to work up a sweat at the gym for an hour. Both of us are overdue for a workout because we’d been drinking a lot and eating bad all week. I gave up on counting calories after the first day in Vegas — after all, aren’t you supposed to be bad on vacation? Now, the collective guilt from eating all of those calories haunts me.
Amber and I finish our workout session with a visit to the steam room and whirlpool. The whirlpool is the perfect way to end our workout — warm bubbles gently caress my body all over while the pulsating jets penetrate the bottom of my bikini and surge to the front. Amber hasn’t looked this good in a long time and I find myself having some dirty little thoughts about her. I don’t know if the relaxing warmth of the water created this mood, but I force myself to stop thinking about Amber because she’s a really good friend.
At the beginning of our spa session, I choose the Swedish massage; and since my skin is quite dry that day, I also choose a sea salt scrub. God, how I love wet treatments that leave your skin feeling like it’s brand new.
After our spa sessions, Amber wants to eat at Nobu at the Hard Rock. I’m initially apprehensive because of my previous run-in with sushi and food poisoning, but Amber convinces me to go. As one of the most expensive sushi restaurants in the country, there must clearly be good non-sushi dishes right? Who can argue with this logic? Logical or not, there’s no arguing with this girl once she makes up her mind. Amber grabs my hand and leads me out the door. Before we get into the cab, she calls her friend Randi and tells her to meet us at Nobu.
We pull up at about 8PM, and find out that we have to wait another hour before we can get seated. Yet another wait. Can’t someone get a real hook up??
While Amber and Randi talk, I scope out the scene. On the way to the craps table, I catch a glimpse of a very beautiful man — he might as well have been Marcus Schenkenberg’s twin. I almost forgot that I had headed to the craps table with a quick stop at the Baccarat table to find some whales. Although I came to Vegas to just party, I wouldn’t turn down an impromptu client so long as I could find the right client.
Then, as quickly as I saw him, he disappears. I spend the next few minutes looking for him, but these damn Gucci pumps hurt as much as they look good. I sit at the blackjack table for a while to give my feet a break and gamble without having to think too hard. I don’t know how to count cards, but I know it’s time to leave once I start counting the number of low rollers hitting on me. So I head back to Nobu.
Amber and Randi are already sitting and waiting to order. Amber’s right about Nobu having stuff other than seafood. But this is not the same Nobu that I’ve been to in Manhattan. The Nobu in Manhattan has exquisite cuisine and an extremely classy yet serene atmosphere. The Nobu in Hard Rock had slightly better than average food and a much louder, brasher environment. For all you foodies, it’s sort of like original Iron Chef vs. Iron Chef USA.
OK, so I didn’t have the sushi, but I expected more for what we paid even for the non-sushi dishes. Whatever. I’m not going to let the so-so experience get in the way of the rest of the night.
After dinner and a few martinis, we go to Baby’s, the club in the Hard Rock. While grooving to the beats of the generic hip hop that plays on the radio these days, I think about how I’d rather be rolling right now on some X and dancing to the hard hitting tempo of the techno in the other room. But the hip hop room with all the VIP booths seems to be where all the action is. So that’s where we stay.
As I dance, I hope that all these random guys don’t try to start dancing and groping me like they know me. As anticipated, though, some random retards approach me with this repulsive grinding motion. Before I’m ready to call it a night, Randi turns me around and slips her tongue in my mouth — what a warm tongue she has! I barely realize that a small pill is sliding down my throat after our kiss. She winks and tells me that she hopes that it’ll make my night better.
Amber now returns with the mystery man from the casino floor following behind her. They met at the bar. Only in Vegas can you get this lucky, right? His name is Joel, but he pronounces it Sho-el. I keep picturing his tongue moving as it enunciates the “L” sound. I pull him towards me while Ambers starts dancing with Randi. The X must have just started taking effect, though, because I can’t even open my eyes from the anticipation of where his hands will travel next on my body. We just become slivers of light melting together.
After what seems like just a half an hour of dancing and feeling the heavy bass beats pulsing through my body, Randi taps me on the shoulder and tells me that the club is about to close. Is it closing time already?
Joel suggests that we go to his suite upstairs at the Hard Rock to drop again and then go to Drai’s. Although Drai’s is in a piece of shit casino (Barbary Coast), it’s supposed to be a great after hours spot. We’re all game. Too bad we never got a chance to go to Drai’s… The next morning, Amber, Randi and I all do the walk of shame from Joel’s suite.
As I get onto the plane to return to NYC, I think about the great week we had. Viva Las Vegas — it never disappoints!
Hot Masseur — Sin City (Part 4)
The gentle tinkle of water drops falling on leaves fills the room as spicy forest aromas waft their way from the flickering candles. Lying face down on a massage table in the darkened room, I start to relax for the first time since the horrible plane ride from New York to Las Vegas.
The heated plush white terry towels bring back memories of my childhood when I played beside my mom as she folded clothes fresh out of the dryer. I loved lying down in bed immediately after Mom changed the sheets. Somthing about falling asleep in between clean and warm sheets always gave me the most pleasant dreams.
The door opens and a man walks into the room. I can’t see him because I’m lying on my stomach and looking down through the circular face rest. The only things I can see are his tennis shoes.
M is from Colorado. He’s been a masseur at the Bellagio spa for about a year. Although I still can’t see him, I guess that he’s probably no older than 30.
M starts out by moving his thumbs in strong circular motions around the small of my back, directly above my butt. He works his way up my back until he reaches my neck and then proceeds to knead my shoulders. Though the massage hurts a bit at first, I quickly warm to it and my stress fades away with each knot that M finds and releases.
Turning over, I see his face for the first time. What a hottie! He’s pulled his wavy shoulder-length hair back into a pony tail. Looking at his large hazel-green eyes and his toned body, I’m tempted to kiss him. But I resist. Instead of kissing him, I simply close my eyes and let M continue his sumptuous massage.
When M is almost done, I ask him if he gives private sessions in hotel rooms. Initially, he says that can’t because he’ll lose his job. I ask again but this time gently run my hand across the front of his pants. M reconsiders and says that he might be able to give a private session after all.
Later that night, M comes up to my room with a small black bag. He opens the bag to reveal a set of small bottles with scented oils in them. M tells me to lie down on my stomach on the bed. He tells me that I can pull up my shirt if I want.
I pull my baby tee off completely and lie on the bed with only my jeans on. M pours some of the scented oil in his hands. After rubbing his hands together to heat the oil, M proceeds to rub his hands all over my back. I then take off my jeans and ask him to massage my legs. Now, I’m only wearing a black v-string and a thin gold chain around my waist.
After rubbing oil over my thighs and occasionally (purposely?) coming close to my nether region with his dextrous fingers, M asks if he can take off his clothes as well since he’s getting hot. Of course, I consent.
Now naked, M straddles my legs and pours oil on my ass and starts rubbing it all over my ass cheeks and back with his hands. He lies on top of me and rubs his body all over mine. I can feel his penis glide between my butt cheeks. His cock becomes stiff as it continues to glide between my cheeks.
Closing my eyes, I gently moan, arch my back and ever so slightly raise my ass as M nibbles on my back. I stretch my arms out because I can barely stand it. M reaches out with his toned arms and intertwines his fingers with mine.
At first, the oil started dripping in my butt. But now, my whole pussy is glistening and wet. My lips are completely swollen. I absolutely need to be fucked.
M toys with me by putting only the head of his cock in me. He goes in and out but never goes farther than the head of cock. I can’t take it any more and start begging M to just do it. Just fuck my brains out, please!
Finally, M obliges me and drives the long shaft of his cock inside me. I let out a throaty, long moan as he finally satisfies my need. I can feel my wetness coat the shaft of his penis as it goes in and out because it glides so easily.
M lifts his upper body and straddles me. He grabs my ass with his hands and continues to drive his cock inside me from behind. He rides me and I’m his bitch.
I can’t move because he’s on top of my legs. Completely immobile, the only thing I can do is to focus on taking his cock as it goes in and out.
My body eventually explodes with one of the biggest orgasms that I’ve experienced in a while. I let out many loud moans as each wave of pleasure washes over me.
After my orgasm, I whimper. Although it felt so good, I can’t take it any more. My pussy is so sensitive.
But M now starts driving his cock like a jackhammer and I can’t do anything about it because he’s still riding me. His entire body becomes stiff — I can feel the tension building in his body. Finally, M pulls his cock out and shoots his white hot sperm over my butt cheeks and the small of my back.
M collapses next to me. I turn my face and give him a brief kiss on the lips. We both doze for a while.
After waking up from our little nap, M cleans up my back with a hot, wet towel. He dresses, packs his bag and leaves me one very happy and fulfilled girl.
It’s very nice to have a beautiful man serve me! More boy toys please! :)
Update: I changed the word from masseuse to masseur. Thanks for the tips.
Airport Breast Exam — Sin City (Part 3)
I knew that I was in trouble when I saw the awful SSSS code on my ticket. As soon as they saw the SSSS, the TSA guards at JFK directed me to a different line where they performed “secondary” searches. A female guard approached me and ordered me to take off my sweatshirt. Once I complied, the guard gave me a most intimate patdown. She even gave me an impromptu breast exam by cupping my boobs just to make sure that I wasn’t carrying any bombs there — I must have looked quite threatening in my Juicy sweats and with my cute little black Prada backpack.
The plane ride wasn’t much better as I was sandwiched between two really fat men who spilled over their seats right into my space. As a result, I had to tuck my arms in and remain very still in the middle for the whole flight. Blech!
So when Amber and I finally arrived at McCarran Airport in Vegas, we went straight to the Bellagio spa where a hot shower and an even hotter masseuse were waiting for us.
More on the hot masseuse tonight… :)
Texas Hold ‘Em — Sin City (Part 2)
The dealer turns over the final card on the green felt.
“How much can I bet?”
The dealer replies, “As much as you have on the table. There’s no limit at these tables.”
“Oh, is that what all in means?”
“Yes.”
“OK, then I think I’m all in.” I reach over and start pushing my chips in.
The man sitting next to me takes his dirty baseball cap off, scratches his head and spits into an empty beer bottle. He’s been chewing tobacco and spitting the whole time. Disgusting.
“Are you shore you want to do that?” he asks in a southern drawl. “I’d hate for a pretty lil’ lady like you to ruin your makeup by crying for more money from your boyfriend.”
I pause and ask the dealer, “Can I change my mind?”
He shakes his head. “Nope. Sorry, those are house rules.”
“I guess I’m all in then.”
Tex says, “I hate to do this to you but I have to call.” Flashing an idiotic grin, he continues, “‘course, you can always come crying to me for money any time.”
Everyone else at the table folds.
Tex flips his cards. Ace high flush. “Can you beat that?”
“I’m not sure.”
“I didn’t think so neither,” Tex replies as reaches for the chips. “Don’t forget my offer,” he says and winks.
I turn my cards over.
The dealer puts his hands on Tex’s wrists. “Not so fast. The lady has you beat. Full house.”
I smile at Tex. “Sorry. Beginner’s luck, I guess.”
“God damn! What a fuckin’ lucky bitch!” Tex grabs the little stack of chips he still has and storms off. Delicious.
I love poker.
My older brother first taught me how to play poker when he was in jr. high school. He and his friends gathered at each other’s homes once in a while and played poker for M&M’s. Being four years younger, I always tagged along and asked him to teach me. At first, he wouldn’t. After suffering my constant begging for a couple weeks, he finally gave in and taught me the basic rules.
I ended up losing most of the time — I made many runs to the corner Circle K to get more M&M’s. But I did get my first kiss from one of the boys in my brother’s poker circle. (More on that some other time…)
More recently, I got hooked on poker again after watching the World Series of Poker and Celebrity Poker on TV. OK. So the celebrities aren’t really that good, but I can’t help watching them. Just call me a pop culture junkie! I bought several books and started playing online and in some of the casinos in Atlantic City.
Poker drew me in because it’s the ultimate mind game. Bluff, call, check or raise. Good players win by getting into and playing with their opponents minds — not by getting lucky with the best cards. Don’t get me wrong. Luck is important. But over the long run, money always flows from lucky players to good players to better players.
Being a successful escort requires many of the same skills that make a poker player successful. As one of you so astutely remarked before, “Any high class escort never bills you by the hour. She steals your heart and negotiates the price to sell it back to you.”
Stealing someone’s heart isn’t easy. To get repeat clients who pay thousands of dollars for weekend getaways or overnight visits, you need to truly know them. Understanding their deepest (and sometimes darkest) desires is more important than simply having a hot body and pretty face. Sometimes, clients make it easy by just telling you what they want. Other times, they don’t. A gesture, a passing remark, or maybe a fleeting facial expression — these may be the only tools available to help you read your client.
Even after you know what your clients want, you need to make them believe that you want it as well. I’m not attracted to most of my clients. In fact, I sometimes get totally turned off by what they want. But none would ever know that.
Getting back to poker…
Another reason that I love poker is that other people always underestimate me. Seeing me walk in with my low-rise jeans and stiletto heels, most people automatically assume that I’m a bimbo who’s just passing time while waiting for her boyfriend or husband.
So what happened to Tex? I don’t really know after he stormed off. But I won enough from him to mostly pay for my Vegas trip…
Strip poker anyone? :)
Sin City (Part 1)
Did you miss me?
My girlfriends and I just returned from our Vegas trip. After partying and hanging out for almost a week, it was time to get back to work.
I know that I promised a full report with all sorts of juicy details. But I can’t fit everything into only one post. So I’ll post a couple articles this week about the trip.
xoxo,
Alexa
Carnival of Sin #3
Here are the stories for this week’s Carnival of Sin. The rectal exam story is my favorite from this bunch!
Since Thanksgiving is this week, the next Carnival of Sin will be on Monday, December 6.
Not Your Average Day at the Lab by rolandog
Gibber & Froth To My Lovecraftian Smut! by Johnny Landotter
Close only counts in horseshoes & A-bombs by M.
Raped? by Jabeebee
The Inside Scoop On Sorority Parties by Mason
The Morning Haze by Sparkey
Escape to London and a 3some with No Words for it by Melissa Moon
I Call it Sex! by Rod
submission by ShyGirl
What an Asshole by Mad House Madman
Some thoughts on this and that by yatesy
Vegas Baby, Vegas
Some of my girlfriends and I found some last minute cheap deals on the Internet and flew out to Vegas on Tuesday. Since getting out here, we’ve been partying it up non-stop. Can’t write much right now — I’m sneaking a peak at my blog on my friend’s laptop, but will give you guys a full report when I return to NYC over the weekend.
What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas… unless you have a blog. :)
Three of a Kind (Part II)
As you might remember, Spa Girl wrote a couple days ago asking for advice on a threesome. She just wrote back about her experience and her story is hot! =)
Spa Girl, thanks for cheering me up and also for reminding me about what really counts — telling good stories about interesting experiences.
I lost myself for a while in my own anger at Bush…
Spa Girl
I did it. I participated in my first menage a trois.
I was nervous, but I trusted John and decided to just let go and do
it. I slammed some vodka but didn’t really feel drunk at all. The
roommate, let’s call him Digger (more on that later) wasn’t there when
I arrived, and John had told him to greet me with a kiss when he
arrived. Then he told me to grab Digger’s crotch when he kissed me.
John was really starting to get off on the idea of seeing me be
intimate with someone else.
He told me he’d had a hard-on most of the day, and I admitted that I’d
been wet all day as well. If I was going to act like a slut, I decided
to dress the part. I had thigh highs and boots on with my black skirt.
I wore a slightly too small bra and a blouse that zips — easy access
to my breasts. Not that I kept my clothes on for long.
Digger took a shower when he got home and John and I waited on the
couch with a porn flick playing in the background. It really didn’t do
anything for me. Just a few vignettes of men with big dicks pounding
pussies and girls giving men head. John thought it might be fun to
have me going down on him when Digger came out of the shower. He
insisted that Digger have me first — he wanted to watch me having sex
with another man, and he also wanted to fuck me after I’d been fucked
by someone else.
John said that Digger was shy, but he warmed up to the occasion
quickly. I told John that I would go down on Digger to get him hard
and that he should finger me from behind. Turns out that Digger beat
him to the punch – told you he warmed up quickly. So there we are on
the sofa, I’m on my hands and knees between these two guys and my
clothes came off quickly. Everything but the black thigh highs. Those
stayed on all night.
I’d like to give a long, detailed play by play, but I probably won’t
be able to. Before we moved to the bedroom, Digger turned me around
and started going down on me. He said he enjoyed doing it, and boy did
he go to town! He really drilled down on my clit (thus the name –
Digger) – almost too intensely. That fine line between pleasure and
pain? I was riding it, hard, all night long.
I’ve never really encountered a man who enjoyed cunnilingus so much.
He was down there forever and occasionally used his fingers for added
sensation. John was holding me, kissing my neck and stroking my
breasts while I stroked his cock. I think at one point I was going
down on John while Digger was going down on me.
The guys really didn’t want to see each other naked and did a good job
of keeping me between them at all times. Even when Digger was fucking
me, John said he didn’t really see his cock. He was watching the
expression on my face and listening to my moans and groans. Getting
off on seeing me get off. With another man.
That really blows my mind. I know that John loves me – that he’s in
love with me – so I really wasn’t sure he could stand thinking about
me being with another man, much less see it in person. But maybe
that’s the thing – because he cares more about me than he cares about
himself, it made all things possible. I think the fact that he set up
the scenario helped as well. He knows Digger. He lives with Digger.
The only time I’m going to fuck Digger is when I’m there to fuck him.
Still strange. But I’ll get over it. Because I don’t think this was
the last time.
This isn’t something I plan on doing on a regular basis (although John
did say “so, we’ll do this again in a month? I’ll keep track of your
cycle and we’ll do it then because you’re so juicy after you’ve had
your period”) but I think I do want to try it again. Maybe the next
time we can get Digger to slow down a little. When he fucked me he was
pretty fast and furious, bottoming out more often than I would have
liked. His penis is a fairly decent size, but maybe a wee bit shorter
than John’s, so the bottoming out was a result of driving deep and
hard.
And Digger kept getting phone calls, so he’d plow me, get a call, come
back and jump back in the fray. Made it a little disjointed. And he
never did climax, and John was disappointed about that – “I wanted him
to have a good time.” Digger had a fine time – he said up front that
he gets more out of going down on a girl and making her squirm that he
does blowing his load.
We were going at it for over two hours – is it any wonder that I’m
still a little sore and swollen? John didn’t want me to go. At the end
of the night I was putting my clothes on, and he kept reaching up
under my skirt to finger me. And then he had me back down on the bed,
legs up in the air, licking me and Digger came back in. If I hadn’t
insisted on leaving, I think they would have given it to me again.
I’m sure that the threesome was his way of getting back into me life.
He knows how to play me – giving me what I want and hoping that some
day, I’ll want him to stay. Was it cruel of me to indulge myself in
this way? Maybe. But I don’t regret it, and I don’t rule out doing it
again.
Carnival of Sin #2
“Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish.”
I promise not to write about politics. I promise not to write about politics. I promise not to write about politics. I promise not to write about politics. I promise to write more about sex. I promise to write more about sex. I promise to write more about sex. I promise to write more about sex. I promise…
Now that I’ve repented for stirring up a heated (and hated) debate, here’s some lighter fare.
Check out the articles in my little Carnival. You guys are awesome. Just like last week, you’ve delivered an amazing smorgasbord of blog posts for all of us to feast on!
Next Carnival’s on November 22. Submit your articles here!
The Road to Development by Karsten Propper
Drunk Phelps Kid by Xavier
Variety is the spice of life by Cyn
Tell Me a Story or “Jenn talks about her former girlfriend” by Jenn
A Casual Conversation by yatesy
Friends with benefits by Slippery Sweet
Isn’t Technology Grand? by Jannie Vin
How To Fill That Hole by Nina and Rita
Tolerance by David Earney
What College Is All About by Mason
Master, Relaxed by nuala
Johnny Rotten by Matt M.
Home of the Stupid by killeridea
Tuesday, November 09, 2004 by Peter Whitney
Submission by Paul Pritchard
Mystery of the Day: Where is This Going? by Erich Ian
Who said you could leave? by The Cyberwolfe
A Fantasy for you… by Nixxx
A day in the Life by Rafael
training: day 31 — wanking? by mmonk
BDSM gets political, well not really. by Octavia Arena
Get Rid of the Freak? by Agent Mulder
Meeting Up with Old Friend by Rod
Bizarre by stressqueen
Headless babies by Shazzle
The One Lying Under You… by Johnny Landotter
More Random Notes by Ken
Good Wife’s Challenge by wilde_thought
because he was moral they called him insane by dante
Sin finds himself incredulous by Sin
The Longest Walk of Shame by Jen
Mea Culpa (Part II)
I never really intended to censor myself. In fact, my post itself wasn’t that hateful — it was the article I cited. Nevertheless, I pulled my post to do my little part in slowing the flow of hate through the veins of the American body politic.
That said, the article is really funny.
On another note, this whole blog thing has been an eye-opening experience for me. When I began, I didn’t think that I’d sit here writing about politics or about all the other varied topics on my blog. Nor, in my wildest dreams, did I think that other people would actually care about anything other than sex.
I hope you guys don’t mind that I haven’t written too much about sex these days. Sometimes, I wonder if I’ve lost readers because I haven’t posted much about sex recently. But I don’t wonder too much because I’ve truly enjoyed exploring my inner self through my writing.
Don’t worry. I’m still a naughty girl and will start posting more about “those” experiences.
So… Here is my original post. If you can’t handle it, tough cookies.
I know. I know. I promised not to talk politics anymore… But I just couldn’t help sharing this article on fuckthesouth.com — it’s educational. I promise. (This time, you can trust me!)
Here are some suprising tidbits and factoids from the article:
- Many of the founding fathers, such as Thomas Jefferson and John Adams, weren’t Christian
- 9 out of the top 10 states with the lowest divorce rates are Blue states, including Massachussetts where all those god-damn gays are ruining the institution of marriage
- 10 out of the top 10 states with the highest divorce rates are Red states
- The 2nd Amendment grants the right to bear arms so that people can form militias to secure a free State — not so that they can go out and shoot Bambi’s mom with an Uzi
OK. So that last factoid isn’t a surprise. In fact, it’s just a paraphrase of the 2nd Amendment. But I just had to throw it in there for all you red staters who played hooky and ditched your civics class like our esteemed President. :)
Mea Culpa
I put up a post last night that had a very hateful tone. Now, it’s down. My bad.
Carnival Update
I’ve decided to make the Carnival of Sin a regular feature on my blog. Next one’s on Monday, November 15. If you want to join, then submit your blog entry here!
Three of a Kind
Spa Girl, a reader, recently wrote me this email…
Alexa — I read your blog regularly and I was wondering if you would be able to offer me some advice regarding a threesome.
My most recent lover, John, (who I am no longer seeing on a regular
basis, but when we do occasionally get together we inevitably end up
in bed) has offered to help me fulfill a fantasy — being with two men
at the same time. I trust John, but before going ahead with this, I’d
just like some advice from someone who, I’m assuming, has been in this
situation before.
What are some ground rules — i.e. condoms must be used, no means no,
any one of us can back out at any time, no photos or video without
consent etc. And if you have any suggestions about ways to get the
most out of this unique situation (certain positions that will provide
pleasure to all simultaneously?) that would be great.
I’m scared but tingling with excitement at the thought of this.
Spa Girl
Hi Spa Girl,
Thanks for your sweet email!
While I’m glad that John has offered to help fulfill your fantasy, he probably won’t have to work too hard at it. After all, how many men do you know who would reject a menage a trois? ;)
Before doing the nasty with John and his friend, make sure that you totally trust both. The ground rules you mentioned are just that — minimum rules that everyone should absolutely follow. Definitely use condoms — the last thing you want to do is to spoil your first threesome by getting some nasty bug in the process. Don’t take photos or videos. Those types of photos or videos have a habit of appearing at the most inconvenient times. And needless to say, no should definitely, aboslutely mean no. You may have fantasized about this a lot, but fantasizing is different from doing. If you feel uncomfortable in any way, you need to be able to back out.
Now that all of those rules are out of the way, I say go for it! Just like we all only utilize a small part of our brains, I believe that most people only tap into a little bit of their sexual potential. It’s such a shame too…
Unleash the wild cat inside you, girl! Close your eyes. Savor the feeling of all those hands, tongues, arms, and of course, cocks stimulating your body all over and all at once. Feel the throbbing of one hard cock inside your pussy while you stroke another with your hands. Let yourself go all the way — you may just surprise yourself in the process.
Oh, and one last thing… Don’t forget to let me know how it goes!
xoxo,
Alexa
Carnival of Sin #1
Thank you for participating in my first Carnival of Sin! You guys sent me over 40 entries and proved that there’re all sorts on these here Internets.
Let me know what you think. Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated! If enough of you like it, then I’ll make it into a weekly thing.
Some have asked whether I would filter out bad vs. good content. Short, skinny, tall or fat — everyone’s welcome here. The only articles that weren’t included were ones that just had porn pics or blogs that didn’t link back to my site. Just to be especially fair, I put all the articles in random order.
Now, without further ado…
Ms. Manners has definitely left the building. by StarfuryZeta
Deep Shaft So Far by Dan Torchia
Third Party by Jen
Letter to Jeysey by Stupe
Die, Tucker Carlson, die by frenZ
A Thin Cane by Jennifer
City of Funk by Dante
dear victoria’s secret by Raz
What’s Fifty-Six? by Karl Elvis MacRae
It Was A Full Moon… by MissyMae
exercise one by backroads
Wine Tasting 101: A Plebian’s Guide by Azlan Adnan
The Benifits Of Relationship Life by Mason
“Caution: Sexuality Explored in This Edition” by bluemoaner
Someone Is To Blame by Ken
Moody by Myles
N/A (I hadn’t started titling posts yet) by Jared
“breaking my 12-year silence,” or “the israeli brother finger-hold” by Laura
Hail Caesar by The Happy Tutor
People Tell Me Things by Yatesy
First Time by Kansas
Purple Hippos and Bare Boobs by Nixxx
American Society Nixes Support of Mixed-Sex Marriages by Velvet Elvis
Fear and politics in Atlanta by Erica Rosalle
Reverse Puritanism by Brian Ferdinand
To Pimp or not to Pimp? by Halden Johnson
Silly Nick, Porn Stars aren’t for Kids by Number Six
Bootleg DVDs by Bernie Hou
Need by S.
The Silky Shaft Syndrome by Kelly
Must Be A Monday by A.J.
A pretty wife in golden lingerie by Jennifer
How many dollar coins can you fit in YOUR foreskin? by Melika
Why Do Blogs Suck? by Wood
Spam Poetry by Scorpios
Secession
Now that the election’s over, I’m all pooped out from politics. So I’m going to lay off for a while on politicking. Hope you don’t mind.
Before I stop, though, here’s a thought…
The last election clearly proved that we’re living in 2 separate countries — the Northeast and West Coast states vs. the rest of the states. America may have been “one nation under god indivisible” at one point in time, but it is no longer.
So let’s secede from the rest of the country. Secession would just formalize what’s already happened. Then we can elect our own president who isn’t a moron and who’ll actually protect our rights.
If the West Coast and the Northeast secede, then Nevada’s bound to follow because Vegas needs all those visitors from LA. Once Nevada joins us, then we can just annex Colorado to get some great snowboarding country. Hawaii’s already with us so we’ll be sure to get the best beaches. And of course, we’ll have both entertainment and fashion totally covered with LA and New York.
Sweet snowboarding. Amazing beaches for tanning. Cutting-edge fashion. Celebrity sightings. What more can a girl ask for?
Carnival of Sin Update
Last call for entries for my Carnival of Sin. 30 people have already submitted stories. I’m putting out the first one this cuming Monday (11/8).
Back to Work
October was a bad month. Usually, I take a week off every month. In between worrying about Kathryn and suffering a major food poisoning attack, I practically took the whole month off.
Time to get back to work!
Nothing like a big fat rent check and bills for my latest Louis Vuitton purse and Manolo Blahnik’s to focus the mind…
Electoral College
I hate to say it, but Bush won.
I know. I know. Kerry hasn’t conceded the race because he’s still hoping for a win based on Electoral College votes.
My heart hopes that Kerry wins because I hate Bush. He’s leading this country towards disaster with his pack of lies. Saddam didn’t have WMD before the war, and there was never any connection between him and 9/11. And despite Cheney’s statements to the contrary, the situation in Iraq isn’t great. It’s downright horrible.
My brain, though, thinks that Kerry should concede because the Electoral College sucks. It’s an inherently un-democratic institution. In their infinite wisdom, our founding fathers designed the Electoral College to prevent the unruly masses from participating. When Jefferson wrote “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal,” he didn’t mean all people. He didn’t even mean all men. He meant all rich, white men who owned land.
Over the last couple hundred years, we somehow managed to get rid of most of the un-democratic elements of our Constitution. We can vote directly for our Senators. Women can vote. Heck, even blacks are no longer equal to 3/5 of a white man. It’s now time for the electoral college to go too.
Some of you who live in small states may say that the Electoral College is good because you get a say in Presidential politics. I say, bug off. You already have disproportionate representation in the Senate. While the Electoral College guarantees you the opportunity to wave silly signs at campaign rallies, it denies me any voice at all.
I believe that most people who voted for Bush are deluded, but the people have spoken. It’s time that we listen.
(Of course, if Kerry does win, maybe it’ll motivate Congress to get off its ass and get rid of the Electoral College. Talk about killing 2 birds with one stone! Hmmm…)
Vote
Whether you live in a blue state, red state or swing state, every state is a battleground state. Even if your state’s electoral votes are decided, your vote is critical. If Kerry wins, he needs as much of a popular mandate as he can get. If Bush wins, he needs to hear our dissenting voices.
The Republican parties disgusts me with its tactics intended to silence the voters. They’re sending out armies of vote challengers to minority neighborhoods to intimidate minority and poor voters. Who do they think they are? Did Dick Cheney fly around the world super fast like Superman and send us back to the pre-Civil Rights era? I’m sure that he wants to bring back the fire hoses and the German shepherds.
So go vote.
Let’s shout to the politicians, “No more!” No more lies. No more intimidation.
We will be heard.
Halloween Debauchery
Being sick sucks.
Although mostly recovered from my recent food poisoning, I’m still not in tip-top condition. My friends and I went to a Halloween party tonight in the Upper Westside, but I turned in early because my tummy still felt a bit queasy. I’m a bit bummed because I spent a lot of time picking out the perfect nurse outfit. In the end, I didn’t really miss much because the party itself was pretty tame.
Speaking of Halloween parties… My wildest experience happened last year, when my friend and I partied in San Francisco.
Getting ready for the party, I hope that I won’t stand out too much in my dominatrix outfit. I may be a wildcat in the privacy of a bedroom, but I’m much more a Dolce & Gabbana girl in public. Walking in public with my latex mini-skirt, leather bustier, knee-high stiletto boots and chains makes me just a bit self-conscious.
Once we get to the club in the Castro district, it quickly becomes clear that we don’t need to worry about standing out. If anything, we’re dressed more conservatively than almost everyone there. Many of the girls are half-naked or almost completely naked.
The night begins on a very positive note as two exquisitely sculpted men open the club’s door for us in unison. One is wearing a leather thong that clearly shows off his ample assets. The other is wearing a set of leather chaps with a hole through which his ass sticks out. Neither is wearing anything else. What more can a girl ask for? (OK. So they were gay, but let’s just ignore that inconvenient little fact.)
Entering the club, my friend and I pop a couple pills of E. Rather quickly, everything mellows out. I start feeling hot, fuzzy and huggy. We join the mass of people writhing in an orgasmic frenzy to the trance music. Out of nowhere, hands come out and touch me all over. Some squeeze my boobs and others rub my nether regions. I don’t care, though. I just want to become one with the pulsating strobe lights as my body bounces to the pounding rhythms.
In one corner, two men dance with their backs to each other, and a circle of revelers surrounds them. Upon closer inspection, I realize that both are getting head — one from another guy and the other from a girl. In another corner, two men in leather thongs simulate sex within a cage by grinding their crotches over each other while locking their lips together.
The next morning, I wonder if it was a dream because everything became hazy at the end of the night. Then I notice the guy lying next to me and my latex mini-skirt hanging off my friend’s chair. Ugh. Who’s he?
So did any of you have crazy Halloween experiences this year?
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about me
So why am I writing this blog? I have an inner exhibitionist that just needs to be let out. I've always wanted to bare myself completely in front of strangers but have always been held back by fear.
As strange as it may sound, I've never really truly bared myself in front of any of my clients. For all that they've seen, they've never seen me be me. And for all that I've seen, I simply need to share it with you!
So why should you come? To be tantalized and teased. To get release by knowing the true me.
I promise that I won't bite, and if I do bite, I'll make sure you like it!
my favorite posts
- Caveat Vendor - Part II
- Selling Out (Part III)
- Poops!... I Did It Again!
- My First Escorting Experience
- My First Lesbian Experience
- Daddy's Little Girl (Part II)
- Selling Out (Part III)
friends
raunchy humor
sexy stories
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