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A New York Escorts Confessions
The Skinny
My my my my my! What two solid days of sex will do for a girl. And I do mean two solid days folks. I barely ate, barely showered (except for recreational purposes that is), rarely even left the king-sized, multi-tufted bed (except for earth-shatteringly good recreational purposes). Kowabunga. Sigh.
I now have an open invitation to St. Louis. And to Turin. Guess which one I’m going to take him up on, hmmm?!
Anyway, I was able to hold off on visiting my LA posse for a couple of days by promising to extend my trip for the same amount time—and to give them all the juicy details when I finally came up for air. I was actually thinking of renegging on the second part. There’s something sublime about hoarding those delectable, sweet, stomach-dropping moments all to yourself, you know?
Turns out I didn’t even get a chance to settle on a strategy. “Oh my God! You are so skinny!” Monica wailed when I stepped into her apartment.
Actually she was right. I’ll tell you for me, flying is the best diet of all. The day before I travel all I do is worry about what could happen to the plane. It’s gotten so bad I can’t really eat or even get out of the bathroom for that matter. And then there was that oppressive heat wave last week where all I could eat was salad, salad, and more salad. All that lettuce translated into me being a mean, lean 103, two pounds less than the least Alexa of my adult life.
Monica, on the other hand, was not so skinny. She had definitely gained a few, which surprised me since she had always been in good shape. Then again, she always had the worst eating habits. I would always know when she had touched down in my apartment because there would be a missing Ben and Jerry’s pint not accounted for.
“So tell me. How did you do it? Portion size? Gyrotonics? Not eating carbs?”
“Uh no—nerves, sex, heat, not necessarily in that order. Actually it wasn’t intentional.”
“Oh don’t give me that. Did you give up meat? Do you measure your food? Did I tell you I’m doing a cardio strip class?”
No—no. Egads. So many questions. I stopped even trying to answer them and instead marveled at her downright…obsessiveness on the topic.
Deena came to join us an hour later. Monica didn’t miss a beat. “Oh my God. You’re so skinny,” she cooed as she kissed her hello.
“I’m telling you, you gotta do a colonic. I lost three pounds, and no bloat.” Deena lifted up her shirt to show us the results. Then she turned to me. “Oh my God! You’re so skinny! Do you do colonics too?”
Man. You could smell the desperation coming off their breath and the see the minus signs glowing in their eyes. It was all a little Stepford wifey for me. Yeah I was skinny. But I was also happy. And satisfied and sore and lovey-dovey and and and dear God almighty, suddenly so very—
“You know what guys? Can we go out for a pizza with everything? Like now? I’m completely starving.”
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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
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sexy stories
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pizza in la sucks the better places are
Lamonicas NY-Pizza
310-208-8671
on gayley in westwood
Micellis Pizza
1646 N. Las Palmas St
Hollywood, Ca
323 466 3438
good luck in my town
Posted by drpbdy on Jul 28 08:03PM