Thursday, June 22, 2006

Food and sex

There's something very sexy about raw meat, but first of all, this post is mostly about off beat food, little about sex.

I have written about the girl in common with me, who couldn't turn down Blue Fin and Yellow Tail Belly. Yes, my favorite food is sashimi. But I'm not sure I should call it that: I cut up my own raw fish. It's not as good looking, but it's unmistakably Japanese. Nobody else in the world would eat raw fish as the top dish.

I am trying to be a simpler man. I wasn't too sophisticated to begin with, but now I'm not ashamed to say that I'm a simple man. The amount of Blue Fin I would like to eat in a meal would bankrupt me very soon. So my favorite fish is Alaska Salmon. It's available in numbers in the supermarkets in August. But it can be found sometimes in Trader Joe. The way they do it, if it's there it's there; if not, you have to wait for some unknown time. It's deep red, it's totally lean as Tuna. As I understand it, Tuna is a borderline specie for mercury levels. Salmon and in particular Alaska Salmon should be healthier.

The only problem is that, any other Salmon, even most Tuna, taste like fat pork in comparison. The exception is Atlantic wild Salmon, also available from Trader Joe. And if both are not available, he would soothe your agony by Norwegian farmed Salmon, which claimed to have no coloring, anti-biotic, etc. It tastes OK too. There's also wild Pacific Socket Eye Salmon in summer, but they are as rare as Alaska Salmon.

There's something very sexy about raw meat. My second favorite food is rare Black Angus New York Strip. I like to generate intense heat with my barbecue, and drop the steak on it for a little while so as not to burn the whole thing. So to me it's not only rare, but bloody. With less heat and long cooking time, the taste is just different. This is my second favorite because I couldn't beat the restaurants. I understand that they have to hang the steak for a long time at some temperature to drain the blood and for the flavor. But I like bloody. Some steak houses don't even dare to offer rare steaks anymore. It's the same as that some oyster bars won't allow taking away the oysters, but anything else will be OK. It's a liability.

But now Trader Joe has some Iowa steak occasionally. It looks purely raw, but I think they have gone through the restaurant process somewhat. The flavor is comparable to restaurants even if you broil it with high heat. There is one thing that I can beat the steak houses. I can gobble up a bottle of Burgundy at home with no worries.

I don't like white wine at all, not even Champagne, unless it's very dry. Perhaps it doesn't go well with any of my favorite food. I like red, most quality red, including Chianti. I prefer European wine. It's strange that respectable wine become cheap imports in California. CA wine is good, but can't be all that good. I prefer French, which doesn't have the thick grape taste, but taste more alcoholic.

With sashimi, I like lightly chilled Beaujolais. The large bowl of ice that often comes with the chef's sashimi is well suited to chill the wine as well. But sadly, most authentic Japanese restaurants don't serve that.

I talked about gobbling, but I'm actually a bad drinker. If I drink a glass or two, I will go to sleep, or the sex will suffer. So I have an excellent alternative - the only brand of non-alcoholic beer from Trader Joe. They brew it the same way as their brand of premium Germany beer, but taking away the alcohol at the end. It's the best non-alcoholic out there. More than that, I don't miss beer anymore - it's not second best. So now I'm very American, a 'beer' and a steak. But the 'beer' goes well with sashimi too.

I suppose I fit the profile of attractive clients as described in various escort blogs. (Hey you, why are you laughing so hard? Have you met me?) But since I started to enjoy a bottle to two a day of 0.5% non-alcoholic beer, I acquired a beer belly. My regular girl saw it growing and always made fun of it. May be I really need to start working out - that would be a good excuse without arousing suspicion.

Like Alaska Salmon, summer comes with abundance of girls. Time to celebrate with 0.5% alcohol beer, Burgundy, Californian Cabernet, cool Beaujolais or Sangria. I have simple tastes.

A little more about sex in part two.

Monday, June 19, 2006

Secret compartments

I deal with complexity daily. The natural way is to organize everything in a hierarchy of compartments, just like folders in computers. My secret life is just one of the compartments, although the most interesting one.

My secret compartments are hidden in a way such that no two or more compartments can be breached at once. It's something like a boat or a submarine - you cannot sink the whole ship by breaching only one compartment. You do not put everything in one place, even if it's a safe. Someone can simply steal the keys.

Clandestine Call Girl put it nicely, as time goes by, dealing with secrets became second nature. I have a secret PO box. The fee is due yearly after my birthday. So I will not forget about it. If I do, I'm afraid that the post office have to close my box and send the mails to my residence.

Once I lost the key and got a replacement key. Months later I found that lost key still trapped inside the golf ball pocket of my golf pants. That was close. So I brought an engraving kit to erase the post office mark on the keys.

Then there's the secret accounts and secret cash cards. Even the tax return became secret. I'm the most popular tax payer on earth. I maximize the withholding and hence refunds, as a form of money laundering. To hide the tracks I screw up my finances big time to make it complicated. You will have a headache just by thinking about it. I also sign all the signatures, and get electronic signatures enabled if possible.

The problem of tax returns is that you have to keep it for many years. Naturally I do everything online, and keep the returns and records off my computers. I always sign up for paperless bank and credit card statements as soon as they are available.

I don't keep any receipts as a habit, restaurants, ATM, shopping, and even gas stations. Any harmless looking receipt is a big give away - it tells where and when you are, and what you are doing.

I used to have a secret compartment in my office, but not anymore. A self storage facility is great. But for at least $60 a month it's an overkill. A mailbox etc PO box is good too. If you never give the address to anybody, it's a safe storage place. But it's not a lot cheaper. Only some of them have off hour access. A post office box is very cheap. But basically it's a pigeon hole on the other side of the locked doors. Staff can see what's in your box, and you stuff can fall off.

Now I put most of my things in my car. Non-fragrant body wash, so nobody at work knows that I have just taken a bath. Moisturizer that my skin needs, especially if I take 3 baths and showers that day. Exotic bath oils, lubrications, and condoms. Even shower cap. Doing outcall in a hotel, most of the things are unusable for me, and the girls can't bring much with them. If they bring something, it's standard stuff suitable for them, not me.

The shower cap is for a clandestine girl with long hairs. She hated to get her hair wet, even a little. She said wet hair made her look like a call girl. Ramada here cost $70, internet price with advance booking. I hate to pay that price for a shower cap, especially if we meet at short notice paying the rack in rate. If you put the extra money on the escorts instead of on the hotel, you have a lot more choices.

The same girl always take extra 15 minute detour to get a 3 pack condoms form 7/11. She would leave the unused ones behind. Sometimes she would keep them, wrapped in tissues in her handbag, if she knows she is going to use it soon. So I have a habit of keeping what she left behind to save her the trouble of the detour. I may also use a little bit fancy ones of my own if the girls trust me and let me.

Where do I put all these things? Secret compartments in tool box. In the spare tire compartment. Small box held high up in the trunk by strong magnets. In the first aid kit: some bottles are the real thing, others have substituted contents.

In the classic Mission Impossible style: this entry will self destruct in a few weeks.

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

Free meal

This could be the first girl I met when I started in LA. She has a nice personality, love sex, probably has an oral fixation too. She is the only one ever to use a dental dam like cover to perform her blow job.

She is a sales girl for some women apparel company. From her looks, she is a bit Neiman Marcus I would guess. But you know, the sale girls wear very formal dresses. If she didn't change before she saw me, her outfit is a bit Macy. But she takes her job fairly seriously, so she might be at least Nordstrom. She turned me down once because she had some business to attend to. Though she would hide in the back room of her store and do a private cam show for me. She could be 22 to 25 from her looks, with a more mature character. So she wouldn't fit in those kids stores.

After the session, she was fully dressed, staying far away from me, chatting with me while I was smoking my cigarette. She was in no rush even it was lunch time. She stayed far away so as not to catch any smoke in her hair and clothes. Finally, she had to go because of the smoke. She said very causally, "Want some lunch?".

I regretted that I turned her down. You know, when you first started, you worry about everything. It's not likely that somebody I know would see us. But I was afraid. Another thing is that she's 6 feet with that pair of simple shoes on. She was wearing long pants, causal blouse, but still very imposing and eye catching. I couldn't imagine going to lunch with her hanging around me.

Days after, I was thinking that it was a very effective way to get tips. Since I couldn't be with her, I made sure that she could pick anything she wanted to eat on me. Then I thought she was on Viagra. At the time I heard that it also works somewhat on women. So I thought she kept her stomach empty. All in her mind was eating after the sex.

For some reasons I didn't see her again. One year after, I saw her beautiful new pictures and got a erection. I called her and she remembered my name. Again after sex, she invited me for lunch. Again I wasn't prepared and turned her down.

Then there's this other girl, who I knew would turn me down if I invited her to lunch after sex. Even though I knew her for a year or two, she did turn me down. Then one morning, when she told me she should be going, it was roughly an hour over time. I was very surprised. She was very good at watching the clock without you feeling it. A few minutes would be normal but an hour will be far off for her. We kept talking while holding each other (or actually I was holding her).

I suspected that she did that deliberately, so I could take her to lunch. I thought at the time she was semi-broken with her rich boy friend, and probably lost some big clients too. So it was my turn to take her to lunch. Then she realized what she had been missing.

I took her to the top Newport Beach Japanese restaurant, not the most expensive, but local Japanese girls will recommend. She is the kind of girl who couldn't turn down blue fin and yellow tail belly. Same for me. She was so pleasantly surprised that she wanted to drink a beer with me. But since I had to go to work I couldn't. And she didn't want to drink alone. She wasn't supposed to. She got stomach problems recently.

So I ate lunch with her a few times after sex. Then one day I arranged my schedule so that I can do lunch with her before sex. I booked her several days in advance. She must had been not very happy for that. She blew it big time. I think after sex, it's doesn't count as lunch/dinner date, and the meal time is free. Before sex, a proper lunch/dinner date should be expensive. I thought she would give some slack as I knew her for years, and I politely invited her and she said yes.

My new background

I hope you like it. The old one looks too much like Scarlet Letters, and of course millions of other blogs that I don't read. I want it to be a subtle dark color like before, but I also like a green black jack table color. So it's a cross now.

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

Escort advertising

Escort advertising sites world ranking


The top sites above aren't doing badly, as English sites are dropping while other language sites keep rising up in world ranking.

CL Craig's List isn't primarily an escort advertising site, but it actually is. You can count the handful of posts in say jobs, and compare to the hundreds of posts per hour in the erotic service section. It's free.

TER The Erotic Review is an escort review site paid for by membership subscriptions. But for your own benefit, players and playmates alike, treat reviews as advertising and you can go no wrong. The traffic is probably more than all the other escort malls combined.

CV City Vibe learns from CL. In the beginning, if CV sees pretty pictures in CL, they will invite the author to advertising on CV classified. It's free for everybody but few read it. At first it seems contradicting, the free classified in CV competes with it's own paid advertising. But it's exactly like CL. CV hope to boost the traffic rank with the free advertising section. There's no way for outsiders to tell whether people read the paid advertising or read the classified. Without a boost, who would want to pay? CL is free and lots of readers. If you ask somebody to write a review for you in TER, it's much more effective. All you need is a free homepage somewhere.

TBD The big doggie is formally dead. So please don't bother about reviews there and don't post your touring dates there - nobody read it.

CL has big problems because they don't give a dam about the escorts section; they don't make money out of it. But they will do their best to keep up the traffic, without it they are nothing.

Personally I have simple software tools to deal with CL to make life easier. It's a sort of custom download accelerator so you don't have to click on the title of every post to see the content. I surf CL as well as other malls, but CL is just much more interesting. Calling someone up is a totally different matter.

Now some online newspaper are copying the CL model. They allow much higher resolution pictures. If you pay up, you can have bigger ads in better locations.

200 x 10 x 5 x 50 = half a million
That's the formula to make half a million in a year tax free, in 50 weeks, 5 days a week, 5 hours a day for $200 per 30 minutes.

It's not good nor bad. And of course it's not sustainable. But that's the idea, you can even make more. All the tools are available for you to do it compared to a couple of years ago, or may be just last year. You can spread the money over several years or more, but the risk is much greater.

Sunday, June 11, 2006

Dear Jessie Parker

Posted by capps , 6/10/2006 1:53:15 AM

Really Strange, for 2 months and 10 days. This business has changed???? Or is it me???? I'm still hot and in love sex. Last time I posted this, people said have a special. If you go to my website I STATE "My prices are NOT carved in stone anywhere" and that has been on my website forever. I've had to post on CL and see odd men for low prices!!!!!! What happened to all the GREAT MEN from TER????? Jessie Parker, still here in Newport Beach.....Just a little lonely.

Website rate: 275 / 30 min, 500 / 60 min

You can say that business has changed. Newport Beach is a little unusual. There always have been only a handful of escorts in the whole county advertising publicly. Most are over 35 but still attractive for that standard. They are highly overcharging for LA standards. If you have time for the traffic, LA is a better place. For that sort of price, if people have time, east coast guys will fly to Europe, or Argentina, even Far East. LA is peculiar, it takes almost the same time to fly to all those places, hard luck.

These girls rely on regulars - they stand no chance for visiting girls. In the past there are occasionally girls from Canada, who would take a detour to Newport Beach areas when they visit LA. Now there are constant supply of Canadian girls forming a permanent presence. And then there is CL. Most girls are visiting, or on permanent tour. If not, they are on a day and off several days, it's as good as visiting. For visiting girls, there are more varieties, better looking, younger, do more, and charge cheaper. They have to make it irresistible for guys to call up while they are in town.

Local girls like Jessie offering half hours do not make sense. CL girls charge at most $200 for half, model material at 18, not model material at 38.

So it have to be well off older (>>38) gentlemen who are comfortable with the high charge than LA. There aren't that much. There are, but probably not slaving through Internet escort malls and TER.

And then there's the 'sure thing' factor. In the past, TER gives you confidence, and there's only a handful advertising in NPB areas and got good reviews. Now there are other cheap review sites that do not cost you $20. It doesn't need to be a lot of 'sure things'. There only need to be a few, sufficient to represent types of girls that guys will go for.

And then there's the myth that you pay more to be safer. Well, if you engage in 'went the extra mile' activities, you will feel better if you pay more, but are you really safer? If you really want to be safe, maybe you can read the disease statistics across racial lines - there's a remarkable difference.

With CL, some organizations that hate to advertise also came out. You want lookers you have lookers. You want MILF, you get more than you bargain for. And that's the sure thing, from 9am to midnight.

Well if you really have deeper pockets, I would suggest to try something different. Say a $200/30 min young looker for appetizer, and then a 28 year old MILF for the main course followed my massage. You save money by not seeing Jessie instead.

Or find some $150 / 30 min good looking dead fish. Throw her $500 and you will be surprised by what she would do. But of course YMMV. The best looking rip-off dancers at 18 all are willing to go all the way for a grand, negotiable too.

Thursday, June 08, 2006

Call girl relationships: random thoughts

I always feel that having any non-trivial relationship with a call girl is difficult. Now you can see it from many blogs. When something go wrong a little, it will easily became an avalanche. Perhaps it is because they are constantly living at the edge, and so are johns. By 'the edge' I mean they respect each other, and despise each other also.

For johns, they have to pay to get any date and get laid. They cheat their wives and their girl friends. On the other hand, many johns are successful and attractive. There are many things that ordinary house wives and girl friends just wouldn't do. Time and commitment aren't what they want to offer. Dr Zhivago cheats.

I think some academic paper says 2% of US women sell sex at one time. Of 100 women, how much would you say that they are attractive, beautiful or outstanding? At least from my own experience, for some market segments, the 2% are disproportionately better looking women. So what are the odds for, say, a young pretty new immigrant without much of an education and no skills? You can use the service of a PI, or a prostitute, in which case you don't worry about her background.

Well, prostitutes suck dicks for a living, and lots of it. They are promiscuous early on so the crossing over is relatively easy. After that, everything is money. They love money. You cannot be sure that they really like you a little as a person unless you don't pay a dime. If they really like you , it's very likely that they will also enjoy their job a little sometimes, maybe just the sex, maybe just a beautiful cock.

Girls dig different kind of johns. Professionals are the usuals, if only they are easy to screen and to verify. At one time it's stock options - it doesn't matter what you do, as long as your company is hot. Professionals can only charge you so much an hour but some guys are having income by turning up at work, and still earning when sneaking out for a long lunch time rendezvous.

Some girls despise professionals, six figures don't mean much to them. It's not much in some places. But if you have a little business, a little shop, that's different. Doesn't matter it's dirty, doesn't matter it's in a slump. If you survive and have spare money, you have potential. It's too easy to have half mil revenue and on the way to over a mil. If you juggle a bit on the books, six figure incomes are nothing.

Some girls, typically had some education and had a proper job, like educated professionals. Others find it hard to communicate unless for those self made guys with unconventional jobs. Single girls tend to be nicer to attractive single guys within 10 years of their age. Others tend to be nicer to middle aged married guys. You can treat them as nice as you can; they are not likely to turn into a stalker. The oral fixated will always praise a big thick beautiful cock when they see one, but they will not charge less for it.

Call girls need the money or love the money? It's all relatively. Boy friends at school at 11. Senior boys notice her and chase after her across grades. Before 16/18 it's rich kids showing her the world. After that it's rich men. Then the most eligible boys and men moved on. What left are men that she doesn't want to be seen with. Come 19, if she hasn't drop out yet, and find herself to be among the long term unemployed, what will she do? Minimum wage isn't any life for her, so you can say it's necessary.

Sunday, June 04, 2006

1999 Part 2

So I called the number on my note that I made some time ago. I must had seen her ad and her pictures, but I didn't remember a thing. She picked up the phone and was surprised. The first thing she asked was how I got her number. So I explained that I got it from some online advertisement at some unknown time before.

Me: How much?
She: $500
Me: OK, where are you?

So I must had good reason to drop down her number, and she better be good for that price. I didn't bother to ask more questions. I don't often do that because price is the only thing they are willing to talk openly on the phone. She didn't ask questions either. Well, the story isn't anywhere near dramatic, but for me it would only happen in 1999. At any other times I would weight her seriously for that price before any commitment.

She directed me to a Beverly Hills luxury apartment. It was difficult as she had a very heavy European accent. She 'lived' in a street that she couldn't pronounce probably, and I wasn't local. There's a small area in Beverly Hills that have apartments, so it's very sought after I suppose. Parking was difficult - I had only one hour for visitors. It's more like New York - there's no landscape, fountains around the main entrance. The building gate wasn't locked that was strange for the high end building. I stepped into the small lobby and there was the lift. Then I saw a rich looking woman who was checking her mail box. Then she waited with me for the lift in the small lobby. We were close, quiet and alone: unusual feelings in LA. Then we went into the small lift; we were even closer.

She looked like a trophy 2nd wife for a subtle 50+ gentleman. She dressed conservatively in expensive light colored leather pants, and a matching blouse. She may be only 25 but she didn't dress like it or show off her nice body. She felt like, you guessed right, a younger Ivana. She also looked a little like an ex-porn star - nice body but covered up. She could be a porn star but the way she dressed, the star days seemed behind her.

She had big hair, big curls, below shoulder length. She's a blond but she didn't pick an eye catching color. Honestly her taste is a bit off for Hollywood. She did look foreign. So she couldn't be the 4th trophy wife, or the secret mistress. Or may be she wasn't, so she dressed the part appropriately.

She wasn't cute and pretty, but somewhat motherly beautiful. She's 5'10 on flat shoes. She's should be the definition of voluptuous - not those fat BBW that hijacked the word. A European/Asian model is skinny. A Brazilian model is voluptuous, at least for the ass. Her skin texture is European - pale and delicate. It's hard to wear her outfit well. Her leather pants wasn't tight as from sex shops. It looked like a normal pants but the texture made it hard to look good without filling it up with meat.

After I overcame her dress taste in the first minute, she became very attractive, and sexy without exposing much skin. Worse, she's standing tall right in front of me in a small confined space. Then it dawned on me that why I didn't try to hit on her? I never thought about it because it was a rare situation in LA.

The cons - she wasn't likely to be single. She was likely to be well-off. She lived there so she was unlikely to pick some stranger up. My date knew I was going in. If I were late for a minute I would lose time on the clock, or she would abandon me altogether. Remember that nobody was around to answer calls at the time.

The pros - for some reason she wasn't afraid of me a bit. If I failed to get anywhere and made a fool out of myself, who knew and who would care? It's also possible that she's a high end call girl. And you know that they don't refuse easy money as long as it's a secret. They would prefer apartments rather than houses, in that sort of posh post code areas, and they can afford it. But even if she was, it looked like she would charge more than my date. Should I keep my date instead?

It was a tall building. But when all those thought were going on in my head, the lift reached my floor. If I didn't go out, she would be scared. But while I reluctantly began to move my body, I still wanted to try something desperate to hit on her. It was silly not to, though too late.

Then the unthinkable happened. She called my name. I thought I was dreaming. I was totally speechless for a second. Then it turned out to be so simple. She was my date after all. She screened me in a funny sort of way. She peeped behind the mailboxes when I was outside talking to her on the phone. She secretly opened the main gate for me. That's why she wasn't afraid of me and followed me into the lift. Though she wasn't exactly sure if I were her date for some reasons.

Now I could concentrate on her and her alone. The apartment was nice, though I was pretty sure she didn't live there. The owner, may be an high end call girl, may be someone lived beyond her means, may be a madam, hired the apartment out hourly like a motel, when she's wasn't using it. $50 an hour? Cheaper than a motel? No way, I would not let it out less than $100. It made me more curious. She couldn't take risk of going to public hotels. Maybe she was short of time to check in and check out. Maybe that's her friend's home.

I was still looking for a catch somewhere. So I asked politely, "Can I see more of you before I commit to stay?" I was thinking that she would unbutton part of her blouse, or change into something more comfortable, getting rid of the leather pants. But she started complaining softly, saying that all I wanted was a free strip show. Once she stripped and I would leave. At the same time she was stripping down to her sexy underwear. That was unnecessary. When she started to strip, I was already too happy. But I was too happy to say yes; I only managed to stared at her speechless.

She was all natural. Big bouncy self supporting breast, big ass, narrow waist, flat stomach. She wasn't at all muscular and I thought she didn't even need to work out. She was very pale but went to the beach recently. She had a very clear, very contrasting bikini mark. She said she was Polish.

I was like in a candy jar, all 5'10 of it, and didn't know what to take and where to start. I checked her out thoroughly with everything I got, in a short time, as I was in a hurry to fuck her. Before that I wouldn't believe that everything was real. She wasn't exceptionally good looking nor she was exceptionally expensive. But everything was a pleasant surprise, starting from the mysterious number on my note paper.

She was easy going. Show off in front of the mirror? No problem. Shower together? No problem. She was anything but submissive. She was like short of time. She didn't really rush me, but in the shower she would seek out my penis and gave it a handjob, so it would cum faster. I did get to apply shower gel for her, but most of the time I was hiding and protecting my penis.

I didn't remember the sex much. I had to go because I only have one hour for the free parking. I learned to observe parking regulations at all cost. I got a ticket before, and the worst thing you can do is to get a parking ticket where you committed a crime.

It felt more like she worked for some exclusive agency, or had a sugar daddy in an exclusive relationship. She moonlighted on the side. $500 may be a small amount but it's hard to resist when someone call you up all of a sudden and want to give it to you for a little in return. Well everybody want more shoes and, in her case, more leather pants.

I never thought I would see her again.

A couple of month later, I went to LA to give myself a treat. There is Bel Air and not far behind is a hotel with the name Bel Age in it. That was the age when even a toilet seat maker had an Internet strategy. The hotel manager must be new to online biding and he must had made a mistake. I got a room cheaper than a motel. The other good thing at the time was that the staff wouldn't know that you are a cheapo using the Internet. (Now they know and treat you very differently.) I was early and there was no room ready. I was treated like any other Bel Age guest, and I got a huge suit instead.

There was a balcony with garden furnitures, overlooking a large lower level roof top garden. There was a kitchen area with a kitchen sink. There was a working area with a large work desk. Then there was a living room area with spacious sofas. Then the bedroom area on a split level. Deep inside was a large bathroom.

Then there was the same old problem. I couldn't give advance notice as I couldn't be sure how long it would take me to get to Bel Age in the heavy traffic. When I got there and started calling, the good and the popular would be mostly tied up.

I was initially shocked by the huge suite I got for peanuts. Then I though who should be the lucky girl to share with me? It had to be her. It's too easy to be ripped-off by an outcall girl. The big money is on incall. If your time is precious and you are popular, outcall has to be a lot more expensive to compensate. I knew she would deliver, and I knew her appearance would go well with the suite.

Again she answered the phone and was surprised. Of course she wouldn't remember me on the phone. I told her I saw her before and I offered her this time $350. Well, $300 is respectable and the extra $50 for her above average looks. Obviously that was close or below the minimum she ever charged. She didn't bargain hard, but accepted it reluctantly. I was surprised a little. Not that she would accept it, but I thought she would ask questions and bargain hard.

When the door bell rang (well, there was a door bell!) from afar, I walked from the balcony across the work area, across the living room, and through a corridor lined with paintings on both sides. There were lights mounted above each painting for optimum viewing.

When I opened the door she was relieved. Since it took me long to get to the door, she might think that I hesitated to let her in. It could happen to everybody. She remembered me at first sight, smiled sweetly and greeted me like a long lost friend. If I weren't in Bel Age, I wouldn't have called her. The worst thing you can do is to call somebody up after several months. If you call a total stranger, she will hope that you will come back next week or next month - absolutely not a couple of months.

Now she looked very different - a Hollywood / Beverly Hills babe. Now she had stylish straight below shoulder length blond hair. The color was outstanding - she told me it was $200 a puff just for the color. She had nice skin and facial structure so she didn't need much makeup. She had a tight tube top or something, might be black. I am sure she had an expensive black leather pants. It was tight with design, clean lines and cutting, far from trashy. Now she looked 25 and nobody would challenge her if she claimed a younger age. Maybe her new patron had different taste. Maybe she wasn't new in town anymore and had to work harder on her appearance. Maybe her clients from the agency were of a different kind.

By the way, with some lame excuse she up sold me another $50 to make it $400, just because my suite would cost a fortune if I weren't bidding via on the Internet. She didn't know.

We started on the sofa. There was a kitchen sink that I could put her on. But I had done it before on something else. It had to be custom made for your height or there would be not much fun. Soon I opted for the bed. Again there wasn't much to brag about, or I would not have offered her $350, take it or leave it.

After sex we relaxed on the sofa. She smoked a cigarette with me, drank my plastic bottle of coke that I brought along instead of using the mini fridge. She took her time. She was so self-confident that she walked around naked, walked near the balcony where there was strong sunlight coming in. She was also spreading her body on the sofa while we talked.

I saw her body clearly in many angles. Being all natural, I noticed some minor lines on her breast. But simple laser procedures would get rid of that and even tightens.

She told me that there was a roof top swimming pool in Bel Age. And Bel Age has the same owner as Bellagio. And that her hair color alone cost $200 ... I said the suite was cheap and she didn't believe me. I didn't dare to say that it was motel cheap. I said I got a it at a big discount, and that I could deduct the tax from it, and that was true. I had a empty shell Internet business for that purpose.

Finally she was a bit reluctant to go. I think she had to be somewhere for her sugar daddy, or some agency appointment. But she insisted that I wait for her to come back, not just for another round it seemed! I asked how much and she wouldn't say. She just said she would give me a good deal that I couldn't refuse. It was very tempting. But I prepared for the plan B first. I said I had something to do later and then I had to go. But I could come back some other day just for her with no distractions.

For a few hundred more, I could have a pretty woman fantasy for the evening at Bel Age, if only for an hour or two. She could have gotten me at the spot if she wasn't busy at the time. It was tempting and I wanted to waste her precious time as much as possible with minimum expenses. But really I didn't fancy going out with her say for dinner. I did enjoy doing that but only with 'compatible' looking pretty woman. She's too high profile that day with 200-dollar color blond hair and her black leather pants. I didn't think I can enjoy dinner with everybody turning their heads. The beach may be OK but I knew her too little to have conversation and fun. As for the sex, it's diminishing return on the same day. I decided against it.

I never call her again. If I waste that much time ub traffic, I could have many more choices. But perhaps unconsciously I wanted to preserve those memories those images - her 5'10 figure stretching lazily on the sofa, her sensational hair, in Bel Age. Even if I offer a much higher bid, I cannot pick the exact hotel. And the rack rate is impossible for me. And since I saw her twice within a couple of months, I know that she won't look that good anymore the next time.

Friday, June 02, 2006


There should be a book or a movie with this title - the year 1999 is so extraordinary in so many ways. (There are, but nothing dramatic.) Being the turn of the millennium amplifies everything, or maybe causes everything: Y2K crisis, stock market, so many people aren't the same anymore.

That's the last time I had a player's fatigue. Once I called up an ad for a blue eyed blond. Then I found myself in some agents client list. New girls in town that fitted the profile would call me up, like doing an audition on the phone. $400, $500, ..., $700... That's how it was, nobody gave a dam as long as the girl was half pretty. But the more I did, the more I felt unfulfilled one way or the other. Oh yes, they were attractive, and we had good times too. But what's the point of going over the same thing again and again?

I could remember when I was in LA, nobody in my short list returned my calls. That was the sign of the times. When you looked at the stock quotes on your cell phone, you realized that your net worth was up by 10%. What would you do to celebrate? Usually, I would be richer after seeing a girl for an hour when the stock market was open - who cared about what she charged? So the good and the famous were usually unavailable on short notice. It's hard to find somebody decent to return your calls.

I was desperate. Somewhere on my list was a phone number that I must had dropped down a while ago. I didn't know what she looked like and what was her name. I only knew that she must looked good in her pictures. I called the number.

to be continued...

Thursday, June 01, 2006

The players?

Updated Feb 24, 2007

Finally, I did it, taking off the link to this entry and leave it to the dust. Some accidental or occasional players may or may not want their blogs to be included in the list. Some 'players' don't write about hooker experiences or hooker stories; what left? Discussion boards? Do I have to subscribe to 100 people?

I keep track of these blogs but not because I find it interesting. I just keep an eye on what's going on. There's not much to read anyway.

I came across Sigmond's blog when he was about to abandon it. I said many things but basically I don't read luxury travel blogs when I travel on a budget, which isn't small but there's always something bigger that I don't find relevant or interesting.

As for the East Coast, I'm jealous: agencies are not allowed to survive in South California, except for the rip-off types, which are legal. We don't build up references and communities via blogs, but via discussion and review boards. As for suicide girls, what can I say except that all tattoos are carefully counted and reported here.


A review in The Erotic Review has a perceived value of $10. You also get the bragging right, and useful references. There must be something odd about anonymous players with a blog. For me, one can only put in so much extra contents into a review that has to be 'approved'. I dazzled them, I made them laugh, but at the end you know they just want you to write mechanically and exactly what happened with the minimum number of words. And when the big time comes, very soon TER realized that they cannot afford to let guys say what they want on the discussion boards. They rather moderate with heavy hands; leaving the boards half dead and totally boring. The picture that TER painted is as distorted as the big dog, which takes years for the die hards to realize it and abandon ship.

Nightside Johnny has something interesting going, but he's reluctant to be regarded as a player. Sigmund Fuller is way out of touch of popular culture. In an odd way, he reminds me of ex-sugar babies who always carry expired super-duper cards in their handbags; can't forget the faded glory. (By no means I'm implying that he's on the way down.)

The West Coast culture is always somewhat at odds with the East Coast. There's no surprise that I'm not a big fan of New York John and The Poet. Either the playing field is very different or we are very different players. I respect that.