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A New York Escorts Confessions
The Commitment Phobe
When it comes to committed relationships, I’ve been saying, “Bah humbug” pretty much since I’ve arrived in New York.
It’s not that I’m against monogomy or love for that matter. Quite the opposite. I’ve had my share of wonderful exclusivity in the past. When it’s good it’s oh so good, right? And when it’s not—well, we all know what that’s like. ‘Nuf said.
But none of that really seems to be relevant. I don’t know—there’s something about the boundless nature of New York that makes me want to sample. There’s always a new area to go check out as it shimmers, changes, and evolves. There are new restaurants to try—exotic cuisines like Ethiopian or homey retro diners or fancy-pants three star numbers. There’s always new spa services, new water sports, new designers, new street vendors, new cocktails, new bargains. Everything seems to scream out, “Take me! Take me now!”
And I do.
Still though, I think there’s something in human nature that makes us all crave routine at the same time. Getting our coffee at the same cafe everyday. A place where you can walk in and people clear “your” table for you. The yoga class you just can’t ever miss—the one you put your mat in the same spot every single time.
I think when I started this blog I was looking for a place to sit back, relax, and just spew. I loved that link to the anonymous parties who would understand, relate, or even rail against me (well, sometimes anyway.) I loved sharing my observations and my stories, making you laugh, nod your head, snort, roll your eyes, whatever.
But the thing is, I realize now that this space is more than that. THIS is my committed relationship. I show up here twice a week no matter what, you know? It makes me feel organized, driven, purposeful, well, committed. In a way that seems exactly right.
Last week was a little experiment. You’ll remember the last time I stopped writing I kinda went off the deep end. Cut and dyed my hair, fled my apartment, put my stuff in storage and just let everything go as I hit the road. That was hell. At the same time, I sure needed to do it right then and there. But what would happen, I wondered last week, if I took my hands off the wheel now?
You know what? There’s freedom in taking a pause, in letting yourself just be from time to time. No plan, no routine, no obligations, no nothing. But it’s sure as hell nice knowing that your partner and your passion are there waiting for you when you get back.
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confessionsComments
Yes, your jaunt was a bit troubling and we missed you, and we were worried because you had just posted about a friend who got the shit beat out of her!
Your personal politcal pundit,
-Charles
I guess this means nothing long-term ever developed with M, the photographer. Never heard another word about him.
Posted by Steve D on Jul 13 09:34AMPost 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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I can certainly relate, just returning from a week long break to the job that I've been promptly showing up to every Monday through Friday for nearly 6 years.
There is comfort in routine...familiarity. But breking away, even briefly, gives us something back that routine takes from us.
Posted by michelle on Jul 11 09:46AM