featured escorts
CompanionsVIP
Kaila
AllNatural
Ivanna DiCarlo
Sabrina
AllNatural
Inga
Victoria
Sophia
Kate Frost
Verified
AllNatural
Valerie
Velinda
Emma
NY Hotties provides links to escorts and BDSM providers in the New York area. The list of erotic adult erotic entertainers includes massage, tantra, exotic dancers, strippers, dominatrix, female erotic dancers, escort services, female strippers, male strippers, escort agencies, male escorts, gay escorts, shemale escorts and other adult erotic entertainers.
Here are some of the areas covered by NY Hotties.
- Manhattan Escorts
- Brooklyn Escorts
- Staten Island Escorts
- Long Island
- Queens Escorts
- Bronx Escorts
- New Jersey Escorts
- Connecticut Escorts
- Westchester Escorts
By following the links on NY Hotties, you'll find photos, rates and contact information for adult erotic entertainers such as escorts, dominatrix, strippers, erotic dancers, female strippers, male strippers, and escort services who can satisfy your every fantasy and fetish in New York City.
A New York Escorts Confessions
Kelly Brook
Elin Grindemyr
Federica
Supergirl
Boobalicious
If you ask me, hers are definitely fake.
Apparently Japanese vending machines carry just about everything, including condoms, pornography … and schoolgirls’ used panties.
Got tiger-lily? Indulge her coochie with these scented thongs.
Then help her explore her inner artist with these pubic hair topiary templates.
1970’s Feminist Betty Dodson Ph.D shows women how to be “cunt positive”. You show me yours, I’ll show you mine.
Identity Crisis Redux
First new poster coming to NY Hotties tomorrow. She’s good. Really really good. Get ready. Set. Go… . .
Freaking for Jesus
Need a user’s manual? Watch The Exorcist.
Identity Crisis
I am not the real Alexa. I am a fembot. All your base are belong to us!
Now that I’m back and have turned comments back on, the haters have returned. Of course. Since I’ve never been one to back down from a good verbal catfight, I’m a jumpin’ in. I may not win a battle of the brawns, but watch out if it’s a battle of the brains. I float like a butterfly and sting like a bee.
In my last post, several commenters expressed some slight doubts.
Fake writes:
Not Fooled:
Well, let me settle this matter once and for all. I’m still the same Alexa. As my good friend Renee once said, “I think, therefore I am.”
To the naysayers who demand real physical proof, I know. I can’t offer any. As I said in my earlier post “My Secret Garden”, I have a strict policy of not meeting anyone from my blog. But isn’t that what makes these Internets so darned special? As one of my earliest visitors once said, I could be some 300lb. mail room clerk from Nebraska cooking up stories about the high life in New York. (To this day, I’m still offended that he imagined me in a red state!)
Although I can’t offer any proof that I am me, I would like to address some of the valid issues raised…
1. Tell me the truth. You’re just some other person impersonating Alexa, aren’t you?
No, you nitwit. I just answered that question.
2. You’re a lying bitch. Whassup with the changed content, yo?
Whoa! You’ve got me! So I’ve been posting some articles with links and galleries in between my personal posts. I even posted one part of an erotic story called Satin (Part I). I must be a different person.
Oh, but wait. What’s this? Didn’t I explicitly say that the story belonged to someone else and that my friend would post the galleries? I haven’t given him a username because I don’t know how and don’t want to figure out how to do it until I decide if the galleries will be more regular. I also didn’t publish Satin (Part II) because the author and I had some creative differences about the ending.
My therapist told me that I have multiple personalities and a couple of my alter-egos weren’t happy being bottled up while fake-Alexa posted away. They got into a fight, took over for a couple days and posted some articles. But fake-Alexa won in the end. She denied her friends a username and squelched Part II of the story.
3. You suck! You’re just trying to pimp your ho site to make gobs of money!
You know, I’ve just been waiting for that moment when I can quit my work as a highly paid escort in Manhattan and start living off those royalties from my lil’ blog. Gee, I can’t wait for those Benjamins to come rolling in. Maybe then, I can afford to move to Nebraska.
4. Whatever! I know you sold you’re bitch site to someone else.
First, Miss Manners says you really ought to get your spelling right. It’s “your”, not “you’re”. Second, how much do you think this site is really worth? After I’ve put in all this time to write about me and share my thoughts, do you think that you can pay me enough to sell it to you? OK, well if you’ve really got a million dollars, then I’ll gladly sell my site to you. I’ll even give you a free date.
5. I know you’re up to no good! Why did you change the look of your site?
I’m guilty as charged. Guilty of messing around with my blog and pandering to my visitors. Your honor, I admit it. I came back from a break and wanted to mix things up a little bit. Maybe add back the comments. Change the layout a bit. Add some boobs. My friend S agreed to help and I let him do it. I know. I really should’ve left good enough alone. Blogs and sites should never change. They should remain frozen in time. Lord, have mercy on me!
OK. In all seriousness… I haven’t really changed what I write about. I still write about my stupid crazy fucked up personal secret sexy experiences in New York. I have expanded what I post, though. When I was on break, I started emailing some friends funny links that I found. They really liked them and so now I post them on my blog. I hope you like them too.
Oh, what about the boobs and babes? Well, so many guys asked to see my boobs, that I decided to comply, but with other girls’ boobs. When asked if you’d be interested in boobs, at least 20 said “fuck, yeah!” So who am I to deny your heartfelt desires?
In closing, Katiebird and Dante, I love you! You guys are the bestest.
Now, if only I could find a studbot who would always be hard in all the right places when I needed him and never complained about being sexually frustrated if I wasn’t in the mood and always groomed himself and gave me foot massages and back rubs and and…
John
Tonight started well enough.
John called me in the afternoon and asked if I could join him for a 24 hour session.
Normally, I don’t like to meet a first-time client for longer than an hour. Too much uncertainty. Can he actually pay? Is he a serial-killer? Besides, taking it slow is good for business. Show a little skin. Open the kimono slowly. Tease before you please…
But I broke my own rule tonight and went along with his request. Business has been a bit slow as I’ve been rebuilding my regular clientele after taking a long break. He told me that he was staying at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel and had reservations at the Cafe Grey — clearly he’d have no problem paying my normal fee. Anyways, I’d been dying to try one of the new chic restaurants in the Time Warner Center. Per Se would’ve been better, but Cafe Grey would do just fine.
So after verifying that he indeed was a guest at the Mandarin Oriental, I agreed to meet him.
Once he let me in his room, we sat on his sofa and started chatting. Small talk. I usually enjoy getting to know my clients. I’m always amazed at how many of them confide in me about marital problems or complain about how their girlfriends don’t understand them as well as I do. Perfect blackmail material. If I really wanted to, I could probably make a lot more by exploiting my clients’ secrets than by working. But, of course, I’m not that kind of girl…
Almost 30 minutes had passed, and we were still just talking. Weren’t we supposed to go to dinner? More importantly, when was he going to pay me? Any regular client knows to discreetly pay at the beginning of a session. Tips aren’t required, but always appreciated.
Not wanting to spoil the mood too much, I lean in close to him, brush his arm and smile. “I’m sorry, but could we settle the fees first? I’d SO much prefer to get this little itsy-bitsy chore out of the way so that we can have a great rest of the evening!”
“Of course. Follow me.”
John walks to his briefcase, which is lying on the desk, and pulls out an envelope. I can see a small stack of bills through the slightly opened top. He counts the money and hands it to me. Relief.
As I reach for the envelope, it drops out of his hand. Ordinarily, I’d wait for him to pick it up, but he doesn’t seem to be making a move. So I bend down to pick it up for him — perhaps he wants to get a peek at my cleavage. As my fingers grasp one corner of the envelope, John’s foot moves over the other corner and prevents me from picking it up.
“So do I get full service?”
“Excuse me?” I quickly let go and snap up to a standing position.
“I asked if I get full service. If I give you all these Benjamin’s, I don’t want to be disappointed.”
“What exactly do you mean by full service?”
“I cum twice. No condom. In your mouth.”
“Oh, my! No, I definitely do NOT provide that kind of service. You have the wrong person, and I think it’s time for me to go.” I quickly retreat from the hotel.
As the cab goes up Broadway and approaches my apartment, my rage builds. He could’ve been an incompetent vice cop trying to bust me. Or he could have just been an idiot. I don’t know. Either way, I’m glad that I got out.
But who the hell is he to treat me like some fucking crack ho from the street who’s stupid and desperate enough to agree to sell sex for money and to not use protection?!
Elisha Cuthbert
Tiffany Wren
Katie Kaye
Joanna Krupa
Got soy? The Vegan Vixen Show seduces men into forsaking their need for meat.
Law and Order actors-busted! Apparently it’s now a crime to carry your police costume to work.
You’ve heard about eye candy-how about skin candy? The folks at Borba have designed fat free (of course) candy that’s bliss for your epidermis.
Unexpurgated classic blues. Listen to these killer clips from Raunchy Business: Hot Nuts and Lollipops.
Got something to say about porn on the internet? Well, you’ve got
yourself a forum —a conference in fact— The Art and Politics of
Netporn in Amsterdam, Sept 30-Oct1.
Squirting Testimonial
In response to my previous post “To Squirt or Not to Squirt?”, a reader sent a squirting testimonial to which I can only say, “Amen!”
I found your blog off of a link from C. Brian’s blog “Tales from the City” about a month ago and read every single post in one sitting. I truly enjoy reading and learning about different people and those that have jobs that are “outside the norm”.
I worked for a porn company for a couple of years and it was always fun telling people where I worked just for the jaw-drop factor. People are always shocked to hear of a woman working at a porn company. It didn’t hurt that I am also very conservative looking.
While working at the porn company, I learned about squirting (Seymour Butts has a few instructional videos on squirting and Tristan Taormino www.puckerup.com also educates people about squirting among other things). Tristan, by the way, is an AWESOME lady that is soooo nice and down to earth. I was fortunate to get to know her and I must admit I have a bit of a girl crush on her. But I digress…
I started dating a guy about a year ago that really enjoys going down on a woman and REALLY loves it when she squirts. So, I asked him to teach me how. At first, I could only do it a little bit when he directly stimulated my g-spot, however, once I figured out how to relax and press rather than clench in when I have an orgasm it got easier and easier each time.
I have squirted so hard and so much that it sounds like I am peeing after having held it in for 8 hours (you know what I am referring to…that first pee in the morning when it seems like you are never going to stop peeing and afterwards your bladder hurts from holding it in so long). We have to put 2 towels underneath us when we have sex because the whole mattress becomes a wet spot when I cum.
Now, some people think that squirting is gross and I think some men are a little threatened that they aren’t the only ones that can visibly release *smirk* but let me tell you — it is the most intense, amazing, relaxing orgasm EVER! I am at the point now that I can squirt just from clitoral stimulation only. However, I needed direct g-spot manipulation to begin with working up to just requiring penetration an now finally only clitoral stimulation necessary. All women have the ability to squirt, maybe not huge gushing puddles (though I do), but at least a little.
I recommend a Rabbit vibrator for “practice” if you don’t have a man that you can trust and/or is knowledgeable in the bedroom. The turning point for me was changing the way my body reacts when I cum. Usually I would clench up when I was cumming but if instead of clenching you bear down like you are peeing you will squirt. I have done quite a lot of research on this and you cannot physically pee when orgasming. Also, I am not ashamed to say that I have smelled my ejaculate to verify for myself and it is DEFINITELY not pee.
Please feel free to email me back if you have any questions or if I was unclear on any point. I believe everyone should have great sex and if I can share any knowledge then I am pleased to do it! Also, if you want, you may post this email in your blog but please do not include my email address or name.
Thanks!
N
No doubt, bloggers are the ‘it girls’ of the moment. What then are the pros and cons of getting naked for one’s readers? Four fearless female bloggers tell it like it is at the BlogHer 2005’s convention.
As always, the Dutch are on the cutting edge of all things sexual. This time producer Jon de Mol offers viewers a reality show in which a childless woman searches for the perfect…sperm donor. Watch out Bachelor. Your days are numbered.
Thinking that creepy neighbor might be a convicted sex offender? Enter your address on this site and find out just who is the boy next door.
Resent celebs for their perfect, well, everything? Take another look-before their photos were retouched.
Looking to profit from other’s mistakes? Reap the benefits from all those misspellings on Ebay.
Christian Love
I know I shouldn’t talk politics. After all, what does an escort know right? Well, I just couldn’t resist this one…
So now, Pat Roberston is advocating the assassination of the President of Venezuela.
You know, I don’t know about this doctrine of assassination, but if he thinks we’re trying to assassinate him, I think that we really ought to go ahead and do it. It’s a whole lot cheaper than starting a war. And I don’t think any oil shipments will stop. But this man is a terrific danger and the United … This is in our sphere of influence, so we can’t let this happen. We have the Monroe Doctrine, we have other doctrines that we have announced. And without question, this is a dangerous enemy to our south, controlling a huge pool of oil, that could hurt us very badly. We have the ability to take him out, and I think the time has come that we exercise that ability. We don’t need another $200 billion war to get rid of one, you know, strong-arm dictator. It’s a whole lot easier to have some of the covert operatives do the job and then get it over with.
Apparently, the Reverend Roberston forgot about Jesus’ command to “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”
So how is Pastor Pat any different now from those crazy Muslim mullahs who foment their followers to become jihadhists and blow themselves up? He isn’t. Roberston is no better than one of the sheikhs who drove the terrorists to fly the planes into the WTC on 9/11.
If his message didn’t reach so many people, his idiocy would be comic. We need Venezuelan oil. But we don’t like their stupid leader. So let’s kill him. The Venezuelans won’t be mad at us for meddling. They’ll just get some new president and keep on sending us their oil. Yeah, right…
God, how I hate this fucking hypocrisy!
Go ahead ladies. Stand up and pee.
Just in case you have a caffeine deathwish.
Are you an armchair sexaholic?
The grooviest girls at the circus
Haiku #69
Random encounters
Lonely and hungry men cum
Soul survive the night
Here are some galleries that my friend has kindly found for all you admirers of the female form. Please leave a comment if you want more! If enough people want it, then he’ll start posting under his own name… :)
xoxo,
Alexa
 |
 |
 |
 |
Express your inner fetishista.
Ad slogans that would be perfect for Levitra, but, unfortunately, have already been used.
It’s a condom! It’s an IUD! No-it’s SpermaTech.
A stylish gal’s answer to fantasy football
Did you say, “Wow!”? Perhaps you meant “Wau Wau”
To Squirt or Not to Squirt?
“Oh, fuck me really hard!”
“Bitch, tell me how much you like being my ho.”
“I love being your dirty cunt! You’re gonna make me CUUUUUMMMMmmmmmm…”
“oohhh.. aaahhhhh…”
Squiiirrrrrrrttttttttt…. A clear liquid liquid ejaculates from her pussy all over the tile floor and creates a big puddle. Drops splash from the ground onto the camera lens as she cums while standing up with her hands cuffed to a shiny metal bar above her head. Her spread legs quiver with the sudden release of tension and her feet slip in her own mess.
Watching the actors copulate on his computer monitor, he gets himself off. I’m just going through the motions the whole time. I don’t remember much — he bored me.
I do remember obsessing, though, about whether she really squirted cum or just pee’d. I’m fascinated. Some porn stars claim they can squirt. I know I can’t. Nor can any of my girlfriends.
So how about it? Guys, have you seen any girl squirt in real life? Girls, have you ever squirted?
How does paying $2,000/month to live with a 3some in a 2 bedroom apt in swanky SoHo sound? What if it’s only 600 square feet? Now I know why I chose my profession…
Vacations
“Alexa, why do you do what you do?”
“Vacations.”
“No, really.”
“I’m serious.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Where else can you take a week of vacation every month?”
“Pilots.”
“What?”
“Pilots. They get to take lots of days off to rest between flights.”
“Dork!”
I push him away.
We wrestle and fall down on the bed.
He pins me down.
I giggle and squirm.
Babes in Boobland
Inspired by FlickLicious, one of my blog friends has offered to find and post semi-regular pictures of babes on my blog. Nothing too raunchy. No hardcore porn. Just tasteful pics of hotties. Mostly clothed.
I may be a complete whore for attention, but I’m also a slave for servicing my clients’ needs. And since some of you have asked for pics, what better way to comply?
Besides, I love the feeling of soft boobs pressing against my back as a girlfriend and I spoon after making love…
So anyways, do you want to see babes and their boobs?
24
First all day (and night) session booked for later this week.
Ka-ching!
Time to go shopping.
Yay! =)
Ixnay on the attelay…
Spank the monkey. Pet the kitty. Then share it with the rest of the world.
A 401 (k) plan for Mexican prostitutes
Kama Sutra? Joy of Sex? Not quite. Not a bad little flash card though.
Lac-Tard
I’m a fucking lac-tard!
I went on this total health kick during my break. No E. No alcohol. No caffeine. No Starbucks grande lattes. Tired of pumping myself with foreign substances and bodies, I decided to purify myself and promised to stay clean. My purity pledge lasted about as long as a teen chastity pledge once I got back to New York.
So today, I got my first latte. Not Starbucks. Fauchon. A fancy French patisserie on Park Ave with a pink tearoom where ladies who lunch come to enjoy precisely-cut finger sandwiches and buy pretty little pink purses with dainty chocolates.
Tired from a night of partying with friends in the meat packing district for the last couple nights, I needed a little pick me up, especially since I had my first appointment with Joerg later tonight. I’m actually a little lactose intolerant. Not too much to give up my lattes. But just enough that I get stomach aches if I haven’t had milk in a while. I forgot this before ordering. Unfortunately, my body didn’t.
As I sat reading my novel, my stomach grumbled and a sudden urge to fart overcame me. Clenching my butt, I ran to the nearest restroom, slammed the stall door and spread my cheeks in the hope that the fart would be silent. My cheeks didn’t comply. Instead of a silent hiss, a cacophony of trumpet calls erupted from my ass. Mortified, I started flushing the toilet in an attempt to conceal the noise. No good. The farts were followed by a shart which was followed by a shiss as my entire colon seemed to empty itself through my gaping anus all at once.
Finally, doubled over on the toilet, I felt the last drops of feces leaving my body.
Time to cleanup. Where’s a fucking bidet when you need one?! After everyone who was in the restroom had been gone for at least 15 minutes, I finally emerged, washed my hands and left.
Returning home, I took a shower to cleanup and called Joerg to cancel our appointment. Family emergency. I hate cancelling on a client. It’s bad for business. But showing up might have been worse for business — he’s not into brown showers.
Fortunately, my stomach didn’t act up after I got home. And I’m going to SLOWLY train myself to drink milk again since I like lattes too much to completely give them up.
Well, at least I’m really purified now…
Boys, you may have already known that being fat makes your penis look shorter. But did you know that a penis retracts 1 inch for every 35 lbs. of extra fat? Maybe there is hope for the man with the 2” cock after all… (For all of you sensitive boys, don’t worry. This link won’t challenge your masculinity since it doesn’t have pictures of another man’s member.)
Do you find yourself on a Friday night chatting online in your tighty whiteys with some girl who actually turns out to be a dude? Check out the Sex Tips for Geeks.
Yet another utterly useless sex aid.
Satin (Part I)
Here’s a story that one of my visitors gave me as a gift. Just as any good girl loves an orgy, I love to spread kinky stories around. Here’s Satin — Part I. Ted, the author, has asked me to post his email (ted.draper at gmail dot com) for anyone who wants to contact him. Enjoy…
Leave a comment if you want to read the rest of the story.
Satin. It was the blouse she chose to wear tonight — white as new fallen snow and sheer as the finest panty hose. If the blouse didn’t arouse him, her little black mini skirt would. She planned to tease him with peaks of her freshly shaven nether region by sitting in just the right positions. Maybe she’d cross and uncross her legs like Sharon Stone…
Tonight would be the night he would take her, or be taken. Either way she thought, I WOULD have him. Bethany could feel the moistness building between her thighs. A fire rose in her belly, and the heat made her flush. “God, I’m such a slut,” she thought. “This is SO unlike me!”
Since she first saw him ordering coffee at the store, she wanted him. Bethany could tell from the way his fitted T-shirt sleeves hugged his biceps that he had a hard lean body. It’d been too long since she’d had any man — fit or otherwise. Since she’d found Chris fucking his co-worker at the office, she had foresworn men. A year had passed, though. And a year is too long to go without sex. Even for a good girl!
She now longed to feel a hard cock inside her. She needed to wrap her moist lips around a thick cock, throbbing as blood coursed through its veins.
Standing behind him in line, she caught herself staring at his ass and thought, “I just want to grab that ass!” Instead, she gave a little “oops” as she bumped against him, spilling her coffee on his sleeve. He turned around to see who had just bumped him, and the game began.
Girl Crush Redux
How you labour under the burden of your passion, with the tip of your cock winking red and wet in your fist!
How you release in long sweet quicksilver arcs!
And, oh, how I want to feel you floundering and striving blindly in my arms, heaving your frantic bulk between my thighs, shoving yourself to a shuddering gasping blissful halt in the hot dense motherlode of my flesh.
“Voyeuse” from Pussy Talks
I think I’m in love. Or maybe it’s just a girl crush. This is a new territory. I’ve had girl crushes before. But never sight-unseen!
Boys fall in love with the girls they’re attracted to, and girls get attracted to the boys they love. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to work? How else do you explain all those hotties who end up with average Joe’s? OK, so some of those average Joe’s have not-so-average houses, bank accounts or cars. Maybe some guys get Wife Version 2.0 when they hit it big. Whatever… Plenty of hotties end up falling for guys who don’t have hordes of cash, fame or power.
It doesn’t work that way for me, though. I’m no gold digger — even if you’re my sugar daddy, I need to lust for you before I can love you. And I’m not shallow — even if I lust for you, I probably won’t love you. I need it all — hotness plus smartness. Boy or girl. You need to stimulate my brain and my clit. Maybe that’s why I never found love.
What is it with the power of words? I just discovered Pussy Talks today, and yet I’m already fantasizing about joining her and M for a tryst. Even without knowing her. Her words lick my mental clit…
Argh. I can’t even keep my thoughts or writing straight! :P
I better go take a hot bath now…
Girl Crush
Here’s an interesting article in today’s NY Times: “She’s So Cool, So Smart, So Beautiful: Must Be a Girl Crush”
Ms. Buice, 26, and the dancer (actually a clothing designer) happen to live in the same Brooklyn apartment building, so Ms. Buice, a filmmaker, was later able to soak up many other aspects of her neighbor’s gritty yet feminine style: her layered gold necklaces; her fitted jackets; her dark, oversize sunglasses; and her Christian Dior perfume.
“I’m immediately nervous around her,” Ms Buice said. “I stammer around her, and it’s definitely because I think she’s supercool.”
Reminds me of my brother’s supersexycool girlfriend when he was in college. She was the big sis I never had and we kept up our friendship long after she broke up with my brother. Too bad he’s now married to a frumptress. :P
Have any of you had a girl crush? An enquiring mind wants to know…
Email Hell
Thank you for coming back to my lil’ ole blog! =) As I waded through all my blog emails, I found so many different messages! Here are some of the more colorful ones…
-J
Um, no. But I’ll let you know when I do…
Names S — just came across your blog. Live down here in DC — 24 years old. Anyway, whatcha look like? You seem “deep”, and I liked that — anyway, holla back! Maybe we can arrange something.
-S
haha, funny. If you’re so “deep,” why do you care what I look like? Usually, I just throw myself on the first horny stranger who sends me a shout out. Don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight.
I would be more than happy to oblige you if you would me.
I dream of an incounter where I get caught in the nude and the person compliments me and my appearance. I am also totally harmless. Will never do what one does not want me to do to them at all. Like you too, people don’t know this side of me. I am a very famous musician in NY and people know my face. (see ________ on _________)
Get back to me as soon as possible. I really want to do this one thing, I have really been dying inside to do. And I don’t like flashing young kids, young ladies. This is to be totally consented by adults. Not a pervert just very open.
-T
Ew. No thanks…
You know what the funniest thing about this last email is? He sent me his real name and a link to his CD, and he’s a gospel singer! I’ve removed the name to respect his privacy, but what a hypocrite… Flashing young kids and young ladies is just wrong.
-C
Well, how does chicken vindapoo sound to you? ;)
Starting Over
Starting over sucks. After being away for months, I recently returned to NYC. And, as a sweet (yet geeky) friend told me, I now need to reboot my life.
Lying on my friend’s bed and browsing apartment listings, I realize just how much money I need to find a place to live. One bedroom apartments in high-end doorman buildings: $2,500-3,500 per month. Two months’ rent (first month + security deposit) required at signing. For someone like me, who is self-employed and has little credit, I need to pay at least an extra two-three months of rent up front. Ouch. (You may wonder, why not go to a cheaper apartment? One word — security)
I just called my web designer a couple days ago and asked her to restart my web site since I took it down while away. She needs to update my photos as I’ve grown out my hair and dyed it. Right now, I’m wearing a slinky evening gown with black silk stockings and heels in most of my pics. I think that I need to be sexier. Maybe I’ll make some lingerie or bikini shots. What if I just wear a pair of low rise jeans and nothing else? I don’t like nude shots but could hide my boobs with my arms. With the jeans unbuttoned, the top of my lace panties should peek out from the front. Or I could turn around and arch my back just ever so slightly to show off my tight, little heart-shaped ass? =)
Logging into my business email account, I find 93 unread emails. One of them says, “Alexa, where are you?! I’m in New York on business and would love to connect. Let me know if you’re available.” Too bad most of them came when I first started my break. Now, that stream of emails has dwindled to a trickle. Would it be bad form to send an email to my regulars letting them know that I’m back? I’ve always prided myself on building a regular clientele by providing a first class experience coupled with complete discretion. What if their significant other reads it? Argh!
How else can I get the word out? Maybe I’ll put up ads in some of those directories. Finding clients is easy — if you’re willing to take any. Attracting the right ones is hard.
The waiting has begun… Life was so much easier when I was already in the flow of things!
Comments
Comments are back.
Play nice.
I need some love please! :)
Absence
This year, I discovered how powerless I am. Powerless over others. And powerless over myself.
When Linda’s boyfriend sent her to the ER to get treatment for yet another “fall,” I tried to help. Having seen so many other girls lose control of their bodies and their lives to “boyfriends,” I couldn’t bear to see another friend go down that road, especially one who is a civilian. So I pleaded with her to leave. I even found a shelter for her. All to no avail.
Instead of listening to me, Linda turned on me. The last time that I visited Linda’s apartment, her boyfriend met me at the door and yelled at me to leave his girlfriend alone. “Bitches like you screw everything up by fucking with other people’s business!” Not content to simply drive me away, he repeatedly called and screamed at me over the phone to leave his girlfriend alone. I’d ordinarily just screen his phone calls, but he somehow found a way to use a different phone number each time. He only stopped menacing me after I told him that I’d recorded his phone calls and was about to go to the police.
In the midst of this mess with Linda, my dad created yet more drama in my life. After rejecting his phone calls and emails for years, I had finally agreed to see Dad when he called me last April. I think that I needed to get closure by telling him in person how much he had hurt me when he left us for his skanky secretary.
Seeing my dad, though, changed my plans. I almost didn’t recognize him at first when he hobbled in on his cane. Although he had cinched a thin braided belt around his corduroy pants, the only reason that the pants didn’t fall off is that the belt rested on his bony hip. Where he had once had chubby and boyish cheeks, you could now almost see his skull protruding from his face.
Battling stomach cancer almost killed Dad and forced him to contemplate his past sins. And so when he apologized for his past, I couldn’t bring myself to turn my back. Six years hadn’t reduced the pain from my dad’s betrayal, but I needed to move beyond it for myself. Although I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to forgive, I at least agreed to meet him again and to continue the difficult conversation.
Earlier in the year, the doctors told Dad that his stomach cancer was in remission. They were wrong. By early May, the cancer re-appeared and quickly metastized to his liver and lungs. Already weakened by the previous chemo and radiation therapies, Dad’s body wouldn’t be able to withstand further treatment. Now, the doctors told my dad that he didn’t have long to live — maybe a couple weeks at most before his body finally succumbed to the cancer.
Resigned to dying, Dad reached out to us one last time. When he told me that he loved me and would miss me, I just cried. I don’t know why. I had really wanted to tell him to go to hell, but I couldn’t. Instead of cursing him, I visited him several times before his death.
After attending Dad’s funeral, I decided to take a long break from everything. I’d had enough craziness. No work. No blog. No emails. I packed my bags and traveled from city to city. Miami. San Francisco. New Orleans. Chicago. Washington, DC. Los Angeles. Boston. Landing in each city, I reconnected with different friends, some from as far back as junior high school.
Now, my head is clear. I know who I am. As strange as it may sound, I actually like my work. Of course, I like a full bank account with all the pretty baubles it can buy even more.
So now, I’m back. Back to work. Back to my blog. And back in New York.
web designers
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
archives
- March 2007
- February 2007
- January 2007
- December 2006
- November 2006
- October 2006
- September 2006
- August 2006
- July 2006
- June 2006
- May 2006
- April 2006
- March 2006
- February 2006
- January 2006
- December 2005
- November 2005
- October 2005
- September 2005
- August 2005
- July 2005
- April 2005
- March 2005
- February 2005
- January 2005
- December 2004
- November 2004
- October 2004
- September 2004
- August 2004
