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A New York Escorts Confessions
“So do you guys like…clean your butts?
Eliza did a perfect spit take. Cat made a whoop noise that had everyone in the teahouse looking in our direction. I was laughing too hard to make any noise at all.
“I’m serious,” Agatha said. “I mean, do you?”
“How can you be serious about this?” managed Eliza.
“Oh that was a good one. Oh,” Cat said, wiping her eyes.
Agatha looked like she was going to start crying any minute. “Well I do,” I offered when I was finally able to speak again.
“You mean, with soap?”
“Yeah. Yes. With soap. Why honey?”
“And do you too Cat?”
“Is this a trick question?”
“Does it look like she’s trying to entrap you?” I growled. As funny as the topic was, Agatha was nothing if not serious.
“Yes. I clean my butt. With soap.”
“I—I can’t talk about butts. Not when we’re eating scones.”
“Okay. Well I was with Marshall…you know. And afterwards we took a shower. And he used one of my washcloths to wipe—to clean himself. And I was just like—gross, you know. Because he doesn’t live there. I have to wash it. And it has to dry first with like butt stuff—”
Cat began to whoop again. I shot her another look.
“—before I can put it in the hamper. So I was like, um do you have to do that? And he was like, “Well yeah. You got to clean your butt.” Like it was a given. And then he said, “Don’t you clean your butt? And I said well no—
“You guys come on. I have a chocolate chip scone!”
“—and he was like, what do you mean no? And I got embarrassed so I said, I mean no, I mean I don’t use a washcloth. So that was like—it satisfied him and it went away and everything. But then—am I weird? My parents…they—it was like a self-cleaning thing. They told me soap could irritate—
By this time there was no helping Cat. She was so red from laughing she had put her whole face into her napkin. Her giggles were catching. I stepped on her foot hard to stop her.
“It doesn’t irritate me if that’s any help,” I said. “It can feel kind of good actually.”
“Okay ew. I’m sorry,” said Eliza, pushing away her scone for good, “But why would it be self-cleaning? Does a toilet self-clean? Does your mouth self clean?”
“Well I mean some gynos say you’re not supposed to douche because the good bacteria—”
“Douche! Bacteria! We’re in a restaurant for God’s sake.” She made a grand gesture and completely knocked over Agatha’s tea.
The waitress rushed over. “Oh dear,” she said looking right at Agatha. “Do you need some napkins?”
And that was it. We all lost it.
I don’t know if Agatha took the waitress up on her offer. I certainly hope for her sake—and Marshall’s—that she did.
new york escortsconfessions
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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)
- March 2007
- February 2007
- January 2007
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