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A New York Escorts Confessions
Farewell
I spent the last few days at Ruby’s hotel with her and her band. I could have found a room of my own somewhere, but frankly I found the company very very welcome. I even cried when they left yesterday for a gig in Budapest.
Ruby never once asked me what happened and for that I’m truly grateful. We made a pact to see each other just as soon as she gets back. We promised to have high tea at Alice’s Teacup. She’d order chai and me the Mauritius, my favorite. Perhaps we’d have pumpkin scones, perhaps whatever the special was that day.
Friday morning I set off determined to have a normal and final day of sightseeing. I have to say I was completely and utterly awed by Josefov, the Jewish section in Prague. My first stop was the Pinkas Synagogue which had been turned into a memorial for the Czechoslovakian victims of the Holocaust. I’ve never seen such a moving tribute, I swear. The whole space was bare, the walls plain, white, textured. But they were covered from the ceiling to the floor with neatly written red and blue names. The names of the dead. On every single wall in the building. My throat tightened. I felt the hair stand up on my arms.
After a day’s worth of touring around, I stopped off for dinner at a local cafe. I walked in, sat down, ordered yet another round of warm potato pancakes and cold pivo. I lit a cigarette, then looked up.
There were tens, hundreds of nude photomontages on the wall. Women being spanked. Women masturbating. Women doing their toilet.
I was being haunted by sex.
I had to go back and face them. I knew that. I knew it couldn’t wait any longer. At the very least, I had to fetch my clothes and suitcase if they were still in fact there. Shit.
Slowly I made my way back to the hotel, the enormity of the situation setting into my shoulders. Why oh why hadn’t I done this while Ruby was still here? I didn’t even think about the fact that I left my rented computer there. My stomach clutched.
I passed my policeman who nodded to me. “Dobry den,” he said. I noticed his parnter was in the car playing a Gameboy. Just before I turned to go towards the hotel I heard him say something to me in English.
“Sorry. What was that?”
“Why you sad?”
How is it that people can move you as much as history can?
I looked around to see if anyone was paying any attention. Then I quickly kissed him on the cheek. “Dekuji vam.” I hope he could understand my lousy Czech accent.
As I stepped back into the hotel all I could feel was dread. Why was I so completely stupid? What in the world had I been thinking?
The second the host saw me I froze. “Oh no,” I thought. “He’s going to throw me out.” I felt dead. Caught. But he smiled as if nothing in the world was wrong, addressed me by name then asked me how I was enjoying my stay. I couldn’t even attempt to answer that one. But at least I knew I probably still had a room.
I barely managed to get my key in the lock since my hands were shaking so badly. Miraculously everything seemed to be where I thought I left it. I said a silent prayer to a God I wasn’t sure I believed in, and who I was sure no longer believed in me. Then I opened the door to their suite ever so slightly and peered in.
They sat stiffly on opposite sides of the bed facing the walls. He was slumped over rubbing his eyes and running his hand through his thinning hair. His clothes were still on but his pants were undone. I could see his cock like a deflated balloon peeking through. She sat stone still on the other side wearing only a red thong and staring off into space, a thin mascara-colored tear streaking her cheek. I silently closed the door and locked it.
I went into my own bathroom and sat on the toilet to think. Then I began to pack.
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confessionsComments
fiction or not, i'll always believe alexa - take care girl, hope u have a safe trip home
Posted by xman on Oct 23 08:53AMFiction?
Truth *is* stranger than fiction, because life doesn't need to honour a believable plot.
--
Toby
I agree. Without a doubt fiction. The author of this blog doesn't seem to do a stellar job of hiding her stories as fiction. I would say about 5% (if that) of what she writes is real. Wonder if the obvious "fiction" tone is done purposely. Entertaining though.
Posted by stecian on Oct 23 11:03PMAgreeing with me? I'm asserting that what is written is true.
--
Toby
Quit raining on the parade! It damn good writing...just enjoy it.
Posted by bernie on Oct 24 07:08PMTrue or not...I'd knock over a group of grandmothers for a pumpkin scone.
Posted by Smitty on Oct 24 07:40PMI'm constantly surprised at the number of people who read here who are intent on either busting Alex's balls, or refuting the shit she says.
Case in point: Stecian.
It's nice to see the world is so concerned with the inconsequential that they have to pick on people in order to reaffirm the pecking order in their petty worlds.
If you dislike what's written, you think it's bullshit, or you think it's bad, good MANNERS dictate you walk the fuck off and not bog the world down with your opinion, which is probably not gonna sweat anybody any time soon. Whether it's fiction or not, it's here for everyone's perusal, and you just spent part of your life doing just that. Have a little decency.
I mean, geez. And if the story is true, then it makes you just another crass fuckhead that the chick just don't need in a week like this.
I'm just saying.
Posted by scribe called steff on Oct 24 10:21PMRegardless of your writing, you were ment to be the glue to keep this sterile marrige alive. It was dead with no way of resesitating it. You did the best you could under extremely rotten conditions. Next time you will be better attuned to this type of offer.
Posted by aj widget on Oct 24 11:32PMI agree with Steff whole-heartedly. I could not have said it better myself, which is why she is a Scribe I guess.
Posted by Jeregano on Oct 25 11:03AMWow. Someone needs anger management. Relax Stef, a person is entitled to their own opinion. Did not mean to stir up the borderline pyscho rant/babble. Honestly, I really enjoy the author's blog. I usually check for new posts on a weeky basis. However, whether it's fiction or not is in the eye of the beholder.
Give peace a chance.
Just because someone expresses a clear, strong opinion doesn't mean they need anger management, dude. I say what I think and don't feel I need to dress it up pretty.
The funny thing is, I handle stress/anger very well, simply BECAUSE I don't repress anything. Release is a beautiful thang.
It may not make me a Buddhist monk anytime soon, but it keeps me happy and mellow in my own way.
I'm all for pease. But I also dig saying precisely what's on my mind. Keeps my life more entertaining for me, and since I'm the only audience I aim to please, that works just dandy.
Posted by scribe called steff on Oct 27 02:08PMTo stecian: I agree with You. In Your comment is great piece of truth.
Posted by Boobs on Oct 29 05:04PMYou're an idiot, Steff. I mean really...Stecian makes a couple comments you don't agree with so you throw a tantrum laced with over-fluffed, quasi-intellectual words demeaning him for his expressing of an opinion (and I quote: "...dictate you walk the fuck off and not bog the world down with your opinion...") and then you follow up to his response with defense of your own opinion. That's really just brilliant.
You...are...an...idiot.
Posted by Breakerjump on Oct 30 01:22AMPost a Comment
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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)
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WOw!!!...This is an amazing story you might be able to get a book deal with all of this. or maybe you already do.
Posted by bystander on Oct 22 06:56PMWork of Fiction though...Definately Fiction