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A New York Escorts Confessions
Paco’s Revenge
I should have known I was putting out bad karma when I wrote a post called The Smeller’s The Feller.
Meet K. A successful commercial producer. Five foot eleven with washboard abs. A loft in Tribeca, a house on the North Fork, a 1969 MG MGC in perfect condition.
And a guy with a pretty mean Paco Rabanne habit.
I just can’t figure it out. The man’s objectively attractive and objectively with it. So why is he stuck on a scent that I’m told had it’s heyday in the 80’s? And not just stuck mind you. The better word would be doused. Immersed. Swimming In It. I.e. the man stinks.
It amazes me that K doesn’t seem affected by his smell. I’ve seen people turn around in restaurants when he’s walked in. I’ve also seen said people in said restaurants literally ask to be moved to a different table when we sit down next to them. One time we walked through Barneys and the perfume sales people, I kid you not, leapt out of our way. And through it all K seems completely oblivious.
When I know I’m going to see K, I always try to come prepared. I’ll work out elaborate stripping routines so I’m out of my clothes before K actually touches me. I bring my extra strong anti-bacterial lavender soap. Still he’ll want to dress me before I leave. He’ll engulf me in a bear hug as I’m about to slip into the hallway. He’ll run his fingers through my hair.
The other day I went to meet my friend Cat at the lounge at Aquavit. I was all in a flutter at the idea of some juicy girl talk over a flight of their signature drinks. Before I could even greet her, though, Cat was eyeing me suspiciously.
“Paco Rabanne?”
“Fuck. I washed this. Twice. You’re kidding me. I still smell?”
“Yes.
“Fuck.”
“The better question would be why the hell are you seeing someone who wears Paco Rabanne?”
“I’m not seeing someone,” I lied. “It’s this guy I work with.”
“Well. He likes you.”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“He’s marking you, you know.”
“For what?”
“He’s marking you. Like dogs, animals. Like peeing on his turf.”
“He’s peeing on me? You’re saying he’s peeing on me with Paco Rabanne?”
“Well isn’t he?”
It’s an interesting thought. The question would be, I guess, if he does this all of the time or just when he knows he’s going to see me. Or if it’s even conscious. But it did make me think about the concept. Is wearing cologne just a dressed up way of reverting to the animal kingdom?
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I would suggest a test to see if he actually has any olfactory senses left………how about you eat extra spicy Indian food prior to your next meeting……if he notices your reaction to the food then he is marking you…….if he doesn’t notice…….go to the bathroom and switch out his bottle of real cologne with a bottle filled with say…..vodka.
The question that begs to be ask….what is your preference in a mans cologne?
He has obviously been wearing sex panther I mean paco rabane so long that he been desensitized to it. In his world in order for him to smell it he has to use 3 times as much as suggested , If I were you I would buy some "disposable"clothes , thrift store on sale rack what ever use them for him and only him , obviously he doesnt care if you reek of the 70's.
Posted by solidsingle on Aug 17 08:06AMPost 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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Posted by Dirty Joke Sir on Aug 16 10:28AM