Monday, December 31, 2007

Homework

I avoid taking my wife out at all cost, except for the rare occasion that she forces me out at gun point, when she has a new group of friends who joke that her husband doesn't exist. So she played dress up at home over Christmas.

We uses the dinner table for dinner at most a few times a year. This is a compromise, which is another long story. She put on a little black dress and stripper inspired shoes. Did I mentioned that my girl next door wife turned into a trophy wife? She is still keeping count of the times she gets carded when buying wine, even with the kids around.

I had an instant hard on, and stayed on. But she wouldn't let me get close enough to touch her. When I managed to sneak pass her defenses, I checked the label. I wanted to add her label to my gift list. Leg Avenues is becoming boring, and this designer sure works for me. It was a Versace. Oh well, I got taste, but I will be sticking to giving away Leg Avenues. But since she got me on this new dress already, I was hinting her to repay the favor big time. She assured me that it wasn't new. OK, then I was hoping for the last installment.

Anal once cost me 3K, and delivery is not guaranteed.

I requested in no uncertain terms to finish dinner and go to bed quick, she keeping everything on. When everything was cleaned up, she had already changed into her ragged pajamas. I begged her to change back, but she handed me her pair of delicious shoes instead, telling me that I could have it if I were desperate. Anyway, I checked them out. It had Delicious written on them. On top of the shoes, there were some metal jewelery, which are sexy after ankle chains, but without the inconvenience.

I lost my erection, and the mood to go with it. I went to sleep right away. Soon my wife came on the bed, and attacked me naked. I couldn't fend her off. She wouldn't take no.

It wasn't fun, and I doubt if she knew it. I don't mind whatever shopping she does. In return I only ask very little, wear them in bed, the most important place. But she wouldn't. That's why I am not at all keen on taking her out to show off her shoppings. Let them rot in the closet. Though she did get her orgasm. Wish you had a happier Christmas.

Now I can see the bloody rare steaks in the fridge. It works for me every time. But I rather have the little black dress. Happy New Year!

Friday, December 28, 2007

My favorite sex toys

In my last post, I used the words "sex toys" out of a moment of inspiration. Now for a philosophical moment, I wonder what is a sex toy to you? Do they have to be plastic, metal, void of emotions?

In real estate terms, the Vietnamese community almost sits in the middle of the equivalent of Silicon Valley. Better than Silicon Valley, the economy is more balanced. When their parents came, there were only orange trees. Money is plenty. Though concentrated, they are a small fraction of the total Asian minority in the nation, which in turn are a small fraction of the total minority.

As far as the "victims" of luxury brand recognition is concerned, the worst offenders are Asians in the far East. For facts you can look at the numbers and density of luxury cars in some cities. And that every woman has some cool handbags, real or fake. The next comes the South Californians. Facts: look at the national ranking of lux car dealers. These native (ie, born) girls are at the worst of both worlds. Their love of "things" is huge.

It's not far off when I say victims. The biggest "pimps" are the credit card companies, who allow predatory lending all over the world to pop up their profit growth. Credit card debt became the most respectable reason (or excuse) for working girls, in places where they rather die than go bankrupt, rather work than let their family know.

Sleazy massage parlors were a big problem. So at times when no landlords worry about empty commercial properties at strip malls and office campuses, the cleanup started from ground zero, the Vietnamese community. At times you cannot mention the word massage anywhere, anytime. Then came the requirement of 9 month full time licensed massage school training, followed by written examines in English. Many cities even require a resident chiropractic doctor before anybody can give massage therapy to anybody. This explains why some chiropractic doctors earn more than doctors - anyone (like everybody) who wants to open a massage clinic need a chiropractic as a partner or bids high for anybody with a chiropractic license. This was the standard for many socal cities for many years until, well, you can see some empty commercial properties again.

Typically these massage girls are earning their way through college, or even at high school, so their typical ages are 18-22. They are as native as anybody can be. It's hard to find anyone born here, majority are immigrants from overseas and out of state. With mandatory training and license, they are good at massage. And after a week or two practice, even the skinny ones have strong hands and fingers for deep tissue. And typically they don't do anything else, any extras. Typically they work in medical plazas, in chiropractic clinics, with chiropractic doctors on site to examine every new "patient". It's the same if they are on any strip malls, or in any previous massage parlors. The owners or managers keep an watchful eye on them, resorting to eyepieces at the doors if necessary. In some cities, instead of resident doctor, only curtains, not doors are allowed in the massage rooms, and law enforcement are given the right to come in anytime.

Another philosophical moment: does sex have to involve sexual organs? I would think many people will say no. The massage laws here are rather silly. It's legal as long as you don't touch the sex organs, which don't include the nipples for practical reasons.

There seems to be an endless supply of these girls. Everything are so medical that it's not difficult to get parental approval or even boyfriend approval. I had run into a place with a spare room setup for doing homeworks.

The money is typically $60 an hour for the client, with the girls pocketing $40. The 33% cut is very typical on everything, including many escort agencies. But here for the cut you get an incall place to use, which is well worth the money. For these massage girls, they have a safe clinic to work in, and management provides discipline. In comparison, if you insist on a decent hotel for outcall even for you regular clients, the hotel cut is easily over 33%.

Typically everybody tips, so they typically get $50 to $60 an hour. It's not much but you only need one or two clients a day to pay all your bills. Typically you only turn up when clients book you in advance. And typically clients know which days of the week that you work. There's no comparison to working in McD and the malls. If you are pretty and work hard to keep your clients, it's easy to get a few hundreds on Friday, Monday, or Thursday, or Tuesday, maybe Wednesday too.

As far as massage is concerned, they are as good as anywhere else in the world. They are also rather unique. Elsewhere the draw into sex work is too great for pretty young girls. You don't get much money by doing massage alone. And it's hard for clients to leave you alone. Elsewhere massages are for the elite or rich tourists. Here massage is rather common and the price is competitive internationally.

But competition is great. For the last clinic I went, there were 3 chiropractic almost in a row, but certainly some are more concerned with your back pain than others. And there are a few more in the medical plaza right next. The massage have to be great, and you have to have a great personality. Not only that you have to be pretty, you have to flaunt it. They all have humble disguise and protective gear such as jeans for doing the massage, but I have seen Barbie dolls flaunting 4 inches of their killer waist, even though they don't do anything else but massage.

When I was rather new in this, a girl with a low cut T-shirt slowing cleavage jumped onto the massage table during the massage. I thought she was going to be my cowgirl anytime soon but she didn't. At the end I did some sexual advances when she said, "what are you doing?" in a gently but accusing voice, as if I tried to touch her in a public mall. But she didn't mind as long as I didn't do anything, and then told me which days she worked.

The competition is so intense that some girls try to do extras as in the old days, and management put a blind eye to it as long as you are discrete. What good is it if you wasted 9 months to get a license but no clients? Some girls tried to provide massage only, but gives in for regular clients who wants a hand job at the end. Some draws the line rigidly, but tease you within the law until you have to do it yourself.

Some prefer to do quick massage and hand jobs. The math: for $40 half hour, they pocket $25. Adding $40 to $60 tips they get $130 an hour at least. Apart from the 5 minute handjob, they just stand there looking pretty and scratch you with their finger nails. Since these girls are popular to a lot more popular, they can have clients lining up. Even for hand jobs, they only do it at their discretion. So it's rather safe from LE. Even for hand jobs, most don't allow clients to touch them, for some maybe just the waist, some the waist up.

Of course there are other girls doing similar things. But they are dwarfed by numbers. And then there are the sensual massages and nude massages. But they are too close to real sex, and they charge more or less the same as the real thing.

I'm not sure why they are so popular. I can speak for myself. Everybody likes a good massage. But since we have that many pretty girls, I can't tolerate anybody not pretty. You pay the same anyway. For my favorite girl, those type of faces you can only find in 5 star hotels in developing countries, and the top massage club in Buenos Aires. Not that they are super models, but not that many pretty girls will satisfy for those salaries.

Pure massage is a good thing. Once they cross the line they are not that dedicated to the massage.

I was very fond of another girl, who was relatively mature than the kids. She came to work part time with a perfectly ironed brilliant white below knee lab gown. With her beautiful face on top of the gown, I already had fantasies. Once underneath the gown was a cheerleader uniform. If she didn't look so good in that, I would say she could even be hitting 30. But even without the cheerleader uniform, every bit of her oozes sex. Her massage wasn't that good and you could say it was just rubdowns. But she knows it and for compensation she provide you with every bit of fantasy so you can do it yourself. She doesn't touch you, and you can't touch her.

Hand job is a good thing too. After a good hour with a pretty girl touching you everywhere else, even if I don't have an erection, I would like to find somebody else to release the sexual tension. I did just that many times. But it's doubly expensive. Happy ending isn't bad at all, and I enjoy it. But really I don't want to get addicted. It cost time and money just for the self or assisted masturbation that you can't even brag about. Fortunately, it's not hard at all to go back to real sex.

Tuesday, December 25, 2007

The Christmas Present

I was kicked out of the house to make way for a kids' party. I'm a conversation killer with strangers. The other problem is that I sometimes get unprovoked solicitation from little girls in the parks. (They like to play with me and order me around so as to give them undivided attention.) And little boys treat me with hostility. (Time and time again my baby girl had to say "this is my dad", or "this is just my dad", so they will not get so jealous.)

The chance that you get your ideal girl is zero at odd times without sufficient notice in advance. And I didn't have an hour or two round trip time to spare. Second best is a waste of time and money. So instead I wanted some pampering, and I wanted to masturbate.

I drove around to look for my favorite sex toys. The first stop was a place I heard with Vietnamese girls doing full hour massage. I was sure I would get excellent pampering, and I didn't worry too much about the rest. You solve one problem at a time. Unless you are a serial masturbator, who always have the most update information, you always have to take some risk trying unfamiliar places and girls.

A young Vietnamese girl came out to the reception area a minute after I tripped the door bell, with oil in her hands. She told me to come back at the top of the hour, fifteen minutes away. She looked like a typical massage school graduate, like anybody else. But she doesn't have sufficient sex appeal though she isn't any older than the others. Also she looked a little skinny and a little rough at the edges.

So I drove to a place that I had been to a couple of times since their grand opening. As an accidental masturbator, you don't want to go back to some old places, but I was willing to take the risk, hoping the owner didn't remember me. The first time I couldn't wait to check out the place as it was the closest to my home. The owner, a middle-aged woman, dressed like a doctor, with perfectly ironed white gown, professional heels. And perhaps she was, as some cities mandates a resident chiro doctor in the clinic in order to offer massages.

The reasons of not looking back are complicated. One reason is that if the owner remembered that the last time I visited was over 6 month ago, I would certainly get the most unpopular girl on duty.

At the reception a Vietnamese girl was sitting pretty. I had seen better but she has everything that I was hoping for. She had Cleopatra style neck length straight hair. Her hair is so fine that you can borrow her head to find the vertical without the plumb bob attached. She is pretty, and at 19 to 22, she is cute. Any older, if they don' t move on, their mind will not be into the massage, or they command big bucks freelancing. Best of all, she has the innocent look that money cannot buy. I doubt if she had any makeup on. At the corner of her face you can notice the dirt like shadows due to the lack of any touch up, or never had any. But all that didn't mean a thing. I might not get her, complicated.

I was a walk-in without appointment. She got up and rushed to get the owner. She is relatively tall, leggy in her tight jeans, with a tight round ass too. The owner came back. Now she looked like a Korean mamasan rather than a doctor. She gave me a warm smile, with a little hint of wickedness. Maybe she remembered me, maybe not.

She seemed to ask me to pay for half hour. I asked if that was what she recommended. She was positive. I asked again and got the same answer. It was complicated. The first few time I came here it was she who put words into my mouth, "One hour, right?". At grand openings, owners all have grand visions to become the number one high class massage joint in town, instead of a seedy hand job factory. Pretty girls like this Tina don't need to provide happy ending to survive. So for a standard massage, I was more likely to get her. Half hour isn't enough for a good massage, so it was less likely I would get Tina, though the masturbation bit would be more likely.

The owner escorted me to the far end of the clinic to a couple of small rooms packed together. It was good news for a handjob but not good for seeing Tina. On the way, she told me that Tina told her I was handsome. She also asked a little about my personal details as if for match making. I laughed it off, but actually I took it seriously, not the match making, but the handsome bit, LOL.

Not so long ago, I liked to use the back stairs into a chiro clinic. I couldn't see them, but all the girls in the girls' room could see me passing by. I caused a riot, or a lot of excitement, every time, without me knowing. The top dog there told me that. She was a little bit more mature, not in school or college. And she wasn't shy or anything. Though a handsome client and just handsome is a little different, relatively speaking. But there exist teenage boys looking for girlfriends in those sort of places.

Another time, another place, after the real doctor checked me out and pointed out about 10 harmless flaws in me from ankles to my neck, he couldn't resist to say that, "now, let see who's the lucky lady." Anyone would be OK I thought, as I had seen at least two walking around, possibly checking me out, LOL. Then in came the owner's most trusted assistant, the youngest one, cutest, but weight the most. She wasn't flabby but I am not into that at all. Indeed I saw her before. I walked to the clinic, asked if she was doing the massage. She was positive. So I made some excuse to walk away ASAP.

Well, that's life, but still I could enjoy the massage. I never heard that they provide any extras so the massage must be good. But it was a torture. In no unmistakable terms she told me she wanted a boyfriend. She told me everything about herself, including that the owner trusted her with everything and she ran the show. And then she wanted to give me extras. OMG. And then she negotiated with herself on my behalf. I was expecting an expensive handjob but she gave me a blowjob. It is just not possible to get a blowjob in clinics with real resident doctors. And since it is not possible to have condoms, she blew me bare, caught it all in her mouth too, not to make a mess and leave embarrassing evidence. It was embarrassing as I still owed her money. I vaguely agreed to her negotiation with herself, not remembering that I didn't have enough money in my wallet.

Back to Tina. I don't know about this time. The clinic is clinically bright. My glasses have anti-glare coating. So she must be able to see right into my eyes, and my eye pockets. LOL. And lovely they must had looked. Maybe I should change into more senior looking big bi-focal lenses, instead of fitting progressive lenses into a narrow trendy frame, which doesn't make a lot of sense, except to the revenue of the optometrist.

I had a plain T-shirt, pajama style, artificially broken at the edges. My small beer belly was nicely covered. If it weren't winter, I would had put on my A&F rugged baggy short. It was a torture to fit into my 501, so I had my CK jeans on. But I'm sorry to say, McWhore, I still had my A&F flip-flop on, even in winter. I feel a little bit of liberation not dissimilar to burning the bra I suppose. Also, I used to have legs that girls would die for, I was told. I don't look at them now but my ankles are toes are still pretty good, LOL.

Just a couple of weeks ago, I followed a Craig's List ad to a massage clinic. The ad used strong hint of sex and stock pictures to lure customers. But I knew very likely it's just a good massage and nothing else. The look of the massage girl confirmed it. She is mature at mid 20's to just over 30. She is pleasant looking, may be very fit and slender under her T-shirt and jeans. But she toned down any sex appeal on her.

We both knew that the owner tried to lure any people there out of desperation. They do that very often. They don't care who turned up, mostly the wrong sort of guys looking for the wrong things. But they do put a warning sign on the wall warning against any illegal activities. Near the end of the massage, the girl asked very subtly what I was looking for, out of curiosity - she wasn't going to do anything other than a massage. I told her I was looking for a good massage, but didn't mind extras if the circumstances was right. It wasn't a hint. I felt comfortable with her and told her the truth. But again it was very subtle, not using indecent words such as sex or even extra. She told me, "You don't need a massage, you are so thin." That actually meant that I had a nice body (she checked it out thoroughly for an hour), and I shouldn't need to pay for sex. I laughed it off. That's true, LOL, but I wanted to ask her did it meant that she would have sex with me for free? I didn't ask. I knew she didn't mean to offer me sex for free. Or maybe she did, but not a one day stand with no strings attached.

I think, one of the many possible scenario, that Tina rushed to tell the owner that she must had me. She asked for permission to swap her schedules if she was already booked. May be she wasn't good enough doing massages yet. She was supposed just to sit pretty and lure customers in, but she begged to massage me. Maybe she asked for special permission to give me extras in the back rooms, reserved for regular VIP clients. Or she just asked to have the back rooms never given to new clients. Maybe I am handsome. Maybe she thought I am the kind of guy who would help her out with her Christmas wish list.

If the owner granted any of her wishes, it was because of Christmas. The owner had no interest in any concessions, especially if she remembered me, who last came here 6 or 12 months ago. It had to be a reward for Tina for her hard work.

It was unusual that the owner escorted me to the rooms, without specifying which one. I picked the slightly bigger one. But since I could hear there was somebody next door, I picked the smaller one instead. So I stretched my naked body on the massage table, visualizing that I was a Thanksgiving Turkey, a naked Christmas present, LOL. The room must be rather tiny, because my feet hang out from the table. I must had looked tall. Also, since the only towel available was about one square inch large, I didn't bother to cover my ass. It wasn't a signal or anything. It just looked silly, and my butt isn't bad at all.

My prayers were answered. It was Tina who came in to claim her present. She didn't bother about my naked ass, while some girls would cover it up. Her massage was rather good, and she was into it. So I thought she wouldn't offer extras. The 30 min session meant she was already booked later. But then I didn't think she was even ready to do any massage if it wasn't me. Or she is the kind of girl who normally will only give you a terrible massage, but you still come back for more. When she was giving me the elbow grind, her hair kept touching my body. It felt nice but certainly no one would do massage that way. Maybe she wanted to look her best without tying up her hair.

I was a little surprised that she began to massage my butt, and then the whole legs down to the ankles. My favorite massage girl didn't touch anything down the waist, as if I would get an erection and tempted her to cross the line. Though she gave me a lot of face to face time, massaging my chest. Tina wasn't shy. She even started to put more effort on my inner thighs, getting higher and higher. But once getting to the point of no return, she stopped. I had mixed feelings. If she didn't cross the line, she could be my new favorite massage girl. But I hoped she would do it, because she met all my criteria of a nice sex toy, good enough to masturbate.

She asked me to turn over in her angelic voice. I turned over but she left the room. If she was still there I would have leave it to her to cover my dick. Now my dick did look silly so I covered it up with the one inch square towel.

Some girls don't ask you to turn over if the massage is only half hour. Once you turned over, 99% of the girls will stay away from the reach of your hands. But she stood right next to my chest, starting to feather touch my chest and nipples with her fingers. Unmistakably, it was a tease, but I could be doing it myself. Normally I would wait and try pulling her hands to the right place. I am shy. But since she was standing so close, I asked if she would do any extras.

I think she wanted to say the routine, "I don't normally do this, I don't want to do this, this is an exception and I'm doing you a big favor (and I want a big tip)." But she couldn't wait to say, "OK", though with an unwilling tone to it. So I left my new found sex toy to work by herself. It was good.

I put the usual tips on the nightstand and asked if she was happy with it. She was positive but tried again to talk with me about Christmas shopping. Maybe she really wanted me to take her shopping somehow. I loved to but it wasn't possible. The only thing I could do was to give her a big hug, which they never refused if the tips was right. I gave her a kiss on her cheek but didn't get pass her dangling hair. Smell nice though.

I wasn't thinking about Christmas. If I was I would have given her extra tips. Though she got what she wanted for Christmas, LOL.

Sunday, December 23, 2007

The road to hell

"He is so going to hell for this, I thought, and I'll undoubtedly see him there." - Mistress Matisse.

I was left alone in the house for weeks, feeling lonely. I like motels, and American hotels designed like motels. Even for a $300 Hilton resort, you can drive almost right to your door with little exposure after check-in. And I always leave the key in the room and walk out - I prepay if possible. But this time, I was thinking, what if my best experiences were at my own home? Will I be thinking of her orgasm when I am sleeping on my stomach? Will I remember her clinging onto me whenever I am having a shower? So I decided to bring somebody home.

I needed somebody that I knew I would have a good time with. There's no point to risk someone new, and very few would come to my part of town. They don't live and work here. The first candidate was Chanel. The last time, 4th, I saw her, I tried to send her away with half the money for doing nothing. I hoped she learned to be a little wiser so I gave her another chance. She asked for more compensation because it's an hour's round trip for her. I dropped her not because of money, but her attitude, and that I wouldn't think she would feel at ease coming to my home.

Why? When I mentioned home, she would be thinking about somebody secretly taking her pictures when she arrived and left. (But really she should be thinking about her naked video on youtube.) When I mentioned picking her up in my car and try to be invisible at the presence of neighbors, she would be thinking of serial killers.

The next candidate was Emma, who lived 20 min away without going into the freeway. No problem at all, even if she lived an hour away I think. She is hot, her body is great, so is her attitude, but if I were a billionaire, I don't think her face is stimulating enough to live with everyday. But as a whore, she is first class with a little makeup on.

I don't think any working girl will mind about what they see at my home. But I didn't want them to have the "we belong to hell" feeling the moment they come in. I was trying to make things memorable. So I got it covered. One option was to remove excess furnishings in a corner of the living room to look like a bachelor's pad. Once she got in from the garage, her movement would have to be restricted within the utility room, the restroom, and the carpet by the fireplace. But it would be difficult to move the pictures and toys elsewhere.

So my cover story was that I was house and pet sitting for my close relative, who lived close to me. His neighbor was also mine, so she had to be discrete when coming in. But still, I had to hide every picture with my face on it. Even if I didn't lie, I would have to put away my wedding photo, hanging right above the bed in the master bedroom! Amen. Also, my wife looks pretty hot, so I didn't want to affect Emma's performance.

I did a lot of hard laundry - provided clean fresh bedsheets and the largest beach towels I could find.

So I picked her up in the nearby shopping mall. They all know where the malls are. That saved me a lot of trouble giving directions. Try telling her to turn North! Then I smuggled her into the garage in my SUV. I should have tinted all the glasses like most Californians, using the darkest tint legally permits, or just outright illegal as many people do. Once into the house, I escorted her straight up into the master bedroom.

She was a little reserved than in hotels, where she would suck the hell out of anything stiff. Probably she had the feeling of trying not to mess up other woman's show home. Maybe she was a little distracted, wondering if the home was mine or not. Maybe she was distracted by my wife's solo pictures. You just can't erase all the Pharaoh's names from the pyramid. Was it every little girl's dream to be in that beautiful white gown, a little house with green lawns, a big fluffy dog? Though a lot grow up to be gold diggers instead.

Some good did come out of it. I got invited to her brand new town house. It felt cozy with low or normal ceiling rather than cathedral style ceiling. She got a jacuzzi the size of an outdoor hot tub in her small bathroom. The length of the room is just enough to put a bed and a TV cabinet. Watching TV is a good way to relax after sex, when you don't want to move, and can't think of anything to talk about. Eventually she didn't accept money from me. Eventually I dumped her before allowing that to happen.

After I dropped her back at the mall, putting back everything together again was a challenge. The laundry was easy, but I couldn't put the spare sheets and towels back in exactly the same way. Some picture frames were nailed or glued to the wall. Some frames were broken while handled. I never thought I would go through the trouble again, but I did once more. Amen.

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

The rise and fall of a stalker 2

Chanel picked up the phone right away after a year had passed. I said hello and it didn't seem that she was going to hang up. I asked if she remembered me. She did recognize my voice just as I got so used to her voice. I asked because we don't call each other meaningless fake names that changes all the time.

It was totally unexpected. I was hoping that, after the last unanswered call a couple of months ago, her number would be finally be disconnected, giving me a closure.

Immediately she told me to see her at the end of the month, when she came back from a trip. That was a very pleasant surprise. That answered a lot of questions in my mind, but I had a lot more new questions. She was alive and well, but didn't want to talk to me for some reasons. That was real bad. I supposed now she needed money so she answered her former clients' calls again. I didn't want to blame her yet nor ask any questions. I didn't want her to change her mind.

There was the chance that I heard her incorrectly. But she confirmed that she had my new number, meaning that she would keep in touch. And I told her that my old number still worked.

"How are you?", she asked in her obedience girl friend mode. I told her I missed her, though I doubt if I wanted to see her again. One year could have a drastic effect on her looks. But for her I didn't mind wasting time once more.

I asked her some polite questions, not making it difficult for her. But she told me she married and had a kid! Now my brain was overloaded. The timing was right, which explained her disappearance. Why she came out to work again? Why would I want to see her? I wanted very much to ask a lot of things, but I knew she wouldn't like to answer. But as long as she came out to see me, I could wait for the chance to ask.

Diplomatically I asked her who she married. She told me the same old boy friend. I was really surprised that she married, and to her old boy friend. She told me all along that she didn't want to marry, because she had to have kids right away as a condition. That's part of the reason she broke up with her boy friend. She told me her friends told her that she wasn't ready too.

It was me who told her to get married as long as there's no prenuptial agreement. She didn't believe there would be. I wasn't thinking but in my mind at the time that was much better than juggling several clients. I didn't think about the fact that she would have to retire from me. In my mind she would be still working. After all, a pair of Louboutin is a pair of Louboutin. (Or should I say half a pair?) I do know that some small time gold diggers aren't getting enough pocket money from their husbands after marriage. So they continue to work. Even if their husband is rich enough, they may still complain about Louboutin. But if Chanel brought it with her own money, most likely he wouldn't notice.

When I was advising her, in my mind it was a twisted perfect scenario. She got more pay and retirement plan. Most likely she wouldn't be satisfied or just bored. But I didn't think she would get any better husband, who would ignore or miss the signals that her past was dubious at best. He treated her good and she wasn't sensitive to looks. She would still be saving up her own money while young, for extra security. Or, given the right circumstances, I didn't think she would refuse a pair of Louboutin or half.

Then I realized that she changed her mind after I left for two months, got her boyfriend back, got married immediately and got pregnant right after. I didn't believe all that, but I didn't want to interrogate her over the phone. After some harmless conversation, she decided my time was up. I knew her too well. So I winded up by saying that I trusted her to turn up and hanged up.

It was a bit of a dilemma. I was horny. But I had no interest to see somebody else. It was too long to wait a couple of weeks. So I decided to pave a foot path at the side of the house, in search of some hard labor.

I called her a little earlier than the end of month. She didn't pick up as usual. The phone was on but I only got through to her voicemail. Sometimes she pressed the ignore button and put me straight to voicemail. My new number and my old number didn't matter. I was really crossed. Definitely I knew she didn't want to talk to me for some reasons I couldn't figure out. For the few minute last time, she could have told me that she was retired and said goodbye. Instead she chose to lie, gave me false hope so I wouldn't say anything, and she didn't need to say anything.

For the best scenario, she avoided telling me directly that she was retired, afraid that I would be mad? But I knew she simply picked the easier way out. That means it's better for her not to say anything than saying that she was retired. One possible reason is that she isn't really retired. She doesn't want to see me to punish me for saying something wrong, or didn't want me to find out that she's still working. I was her walking resume - I knew her salary history and her agencies. Or she felt ashamed to see me again. I told her I heard that one of her friends was still working at a very low profile, at a very deep discount from her just above a pair of Louboutin days. She explained that her friend had a baby.

I hated her for not giving me the chance to say goodbye. I hated her for lying right into my face, giving me false hope. Now I realized that the reason she picked up the phone was that I was using a new number. It was a free Grand Central number so I could call her from the comfort of my own home phone. So I decided to spoof her into picking up the phone again, if only to say goodbye.

For years you can pick any number to appear as your caller ID, using some spoofing service. At the beginning of the year, a bill to outlaw spoofing caller ID was in an advanced stage of becoming law. The days are numbered. So there were free promotions around the net for two free minutes. Otherwise, the charge were cheap, comparable to prepaid wireless. You can have voice changer too, for a guy to sound like a girl for example.

The other reason I spoofed was because I wanted to find out what sort of number she would pick up the phone for. How she managed not to give up her number, when it would look so suspicious if she decided not to answer the phone. I had the number of her client that she hated (knew too much and talked too much), her best friend that I should have done a double with (I fucked her though), a few of her agencies, her fav restaurant, and of course Johnny.

After a few attempts, it was surprising simple as to what numbers she would pick up. When I registered for Grand Central, I picked, say, a Beverly Hills number for free. I think she moved there or I knew her pretty sisters lived around there. So she might be compelled to pick up the phone for some reasons. Friendly neighbors? Or some neighbors that she could have an affair with, digging more gold? I knew she wasn't aware of the spoofing services.

I also think that she may be using a call screening service on her cell just as some home answering machines. She could be listening to people while leaving voicemail. But I didn't think she is that technologically advanced. Maybe she ported her cell number to an extra VOIP line at home, so she could screen when possible. Either way, it would be very suspicious while she is married! It is beyond me that she is still using her old cell number. For example, if I was so crossed that I called her a few times a day, instead of once every month, she would have no choice but to give up her old number.

The last time she picked up the phone on a Sunday when I called her "from" a Beverley Hills number. She knew it was me when I said hello. She remained silence but didn't hang up immediately. I had no clever sound bite to make her talk to me. So I waited for her to response when she hanged up instead.

So I brought a chainsaw. Don't worry. In search of some more hard labor to dissipate my energy, I decided to knock down an old wooden fence with the chainsaw and build a proper retaining wall instead. Now I understand why nobody do any landscaping in winter when it wouldn't be so hot, because it could be raining all the time.

Perhaps I would call her a few more times over several months. Even if I call her once a week she knows it would be me. I have to wait until she is totally off guard. But I'm not crossed anymore. It's almost over, just like last time before she picked up the phone and lied into my face. I'm too lazy to do any sophisticated spoofing. I have tried to leave her software generated voicemail, which are convincingly human, in order to get pass her screening, which didn't work. Now if my Beverly Hills and neighboring numbers don't work, I'll give up. For the last time, I'll leave her a voice mail, text her, and email her. I don't care anymore if it falls into the wrong hands. I waited enough for her to do the right thing. And I'll let her know that she had a cyber shrine in form of a private blog so that I can RIP, if I ever push myself to write the 2nd entry. That will be the end of it.

ps, the anti spoofing bill seemed to be in the final stage as of December.

Sunday, December 16, 2007

Alert all players: disable GPS on your cell phone now! By law all cell phones have GPS to track you when you dial emergency services. In many phones, the function is also enabled by default at other times. So you can be tracked easily. Try this, if you haven't yet, work in most of the world.

Friday, December 14, 2007

The rise and fall of a stalker



When I came back from paradise, I was hoping Chanel would count the days and called me, like old times. She knew I would forget about her and everything when I was there. I would rather stay home while the good memories still lingers. But she would call me as soon as I came back, to get me back on track and forget the rest. Sometimes she would even threaten me that I must see her before disappearing for a month or so.

If she called I would ask her to buy me lunch to make up. But after a few weeks had passed, I missed the DJK on demand, just a phone call away. I lost my cell in paradise, no surprise here, and dropped other things too, including my wallet, though somebody returned it. You can call it fucked my brains out. I was waiting to port my old number to the new phone. She wouldn't know who's calling, so I called her on Skype for convenience.

I told her unemotionally that I was back and if she could go out today. She wasn't excited obviously. "How about tomorrow?", she asked. As usual I wouldn't promise her anything, most likely I would call someone else. But I told her it wasn't up to me, it depended on my wife's schedule too, if she could be watching me. After a few words of polite conversation, she winded down the conversation. I pushed the hangup button. The strange thing was that I could hear my hangup signal, but I could still hear her. And I think she heard my hangup signal too, but she was late to hangup her phone for a few seconds. I could hear that she was explaining to somebody next to her, in a plain tone, "Oh, it was an international call." It was as if she needed a reason to pick up the phone. I was back, so it wasn't an international call, but in fact the Skype calls had no caller ID just as international calls.

I didn't call her the next day because I called someone else. I didn't like being fitted into her unfilled schedules. When she got the "boy friend", usually she would be available when I called her. She didn't have a full time job, not early in the day anyway. She didn't see her boy friend that much, not everyday, not day time anyway. Her mother couldn't be in the hospital the 3rd time. She shouldn't have that much clients. She never told me another client booked her already, that she came right after another appointment, or she was going to see another client right after. So really she shouldn't have anything more important than seeing me. I was used to expecting explanations from her if she could not come. I didn't demand it. She just told me some reasons, but never good enough that I would wait for her. Perhaps it was just jealousy. But other times I just took the chance to remind her by action that I didn't know how long I would be around. There are plenty of girls able and willing, just a phone call away.

Strange things happened when I called her again when I ported my old number to my new carrier. Her phone was on but all I got through was her voice mail box. Every time I went out to play I couldn't get her on the phone, neither did she returned my calls. I remembered the strange Skype call, so I tried called her blocking my caller ID.

Once a girl picked up the phone. I didn't know what to say because we were nameless to each other. If I asked this girl, "where's Chanel", she would know Chanel was using a fake name, and this girl could be anybody, her civilian friend or her boy friend's sister. So I verified the number without mentioning names. She politely told me that she, that is, Chanel (she didn't mention any names either), left the phone when she left.

That's hard to believe. Even if Chanel left her cell phone, in her case she would go back to get it at once no matter what. You don't pick up other people's phone unless you know them very well. I was just thinking that she might be trying some new agencies. She left her cell while she was on the clock so her helper could answer important calls for her. Or she just forgot her cell when she was in a great rush to meet clients. Once another girl answered her phone when I used my secret number to call her instead of my usual number. That girl didn't say anything after I said hello.

Then I knew what could be happening. She wasn't answering my calls, but with some help she could be screening unknown callers with or without caller ID blocked. I was angry. Obviously she was lying when I called via Skype. She wasn't really asking me to call her the day after, but it was a lie to get me off the phone.

If she retired she could have just told me not to call her, said goodbye and gave me some closure. She did told me she was trying to pass some realtor examine to do something related but not a realtor. But she told me very likely she would fail too.

Now it seemed that she would answer everybody's call except me! For whatever reasons it hurt. It could be that she was then working for some agencies and the usual rule was not to have private clients. May be she knew she drove me mad and avoided me in case I made trouble. But I think she knows enough that if she buy me lunch, I will forget about everything after some DJK. The worst day ever was bad, but did you remember the time that she told me she had to watch the ball game on TV while having paid sex? Even if she told me she was a online casino host, that wasn't enough reason. But I never minded that much.

Last time I couldn't have hurt her pride so much that she hated me. I had gone through months without calling her. I lured her to a double with a younger, fitter girl, to punish her misbehavior. But I know how small a client is in a call girl's heart. It's all about money. One client's money is as good as any other's, except for the really heavy, can't cum, the smelly or something keep falling out. It doesn't matter even if you pay more. What's the difference of 1.2 clients or 1.0 client to get the same money? It doesn't matter for 2.0 if they are close at hand, back to back or just easy. If business is slow or she wants money quick, she can offer herself cheap to some new clients or pick her least favorite clients, those paying her least already. She will certainly not calling up her favorite VIP client and offer her deep discount, or any discount. Of course it all depends on keeping secrets. And I think she always kept something from me.

I couldn't accept that. Even when she had the chance, she chose to lie instead of giving me some closure. I told another call girl that Chanel disappeared on me without a word. I told her a little just because I wanted to skip giving her references. This girl agree with me that usually there must be something wrong in Chanel's life all of a sudden. I would not mind at all if she's sick, taking care of sick family member, didn't earn enough to stay here, ballooned. If she doesn't want to tell me the truth I can understand, but tell me something.

And if you want to "get the girl" you have to be persistent. When she advertised online she couldn't wait to give me her private number. She told me her family got it for her. Her family didn't live in the area code and I bet she wasn't a student then. She wasn't living up to her price so I only called her a few times and cut my lost. When she worked agencies I ran into her by accident. She avoided me in a spectacular way, maybe she thought I may consider that she overcharged me in the past. Maybe just as anybody she wasn't proud going downhill. She didn't return my calls. But since she was open for business, I managed to get hold of her via the agency. I gave her incentive and she gave me her new private number, in a different area code. Probably she wasn't going to go through any trouble of fitting me in, if I was just another client. Her rates were more reasonable so I gave her some more chances.

But I was paying her more than the agency for nothing. Once she came late, blaming everybody and was very impatient. I sent her away right away giving her half the money. She refused to go, sitting on the bed even when I really pushed her out of it. So you guessed what happened and she took all the money. I wasn't keen to call her again but I did call her from time to time to see if she changed her ways. That was sort of persistent.

Later she was surprised that I kept calling her against all odds. She treated me very nicely for a change and began to expect me to call her often. I did. One day she told me she would be going under the radar and gave me her real private number, with an area code that was where she lived with her family. Whenever I called her, I checked her old number anonymously. For all I knew she could be still working agencies, but lied to me so as to keep me paying more than her agencies. Eventually the number went straight to voicemail, disconnected maybe, and then reused by the carrier.

Now she didn't change her number, her phone always on, but she wouldn't talk to me or couldn't. I couldn't let go. I wanted to text her, email her, or leave her voice messages. She needed not reply but I just wanted to get something out of my chest for some closure. But I decided against anything because it could fall to the wrong hands, considering her circumstances. That's the reason we didn't leave voice messages in the past. She didn't asked me to avoid leaving messages, but she never did, and wasn't keen. So I kept calling her, making sure that she knew who was calling by using my cell unblocked. I called her at our usual times, every time I went out to play. She never answered, sometimes sending me straight to voicemail. It was intriguing as to why she didn't bother or couldn't change her phone number.

I was sort of stalking her, but soon I called her only once a couple of months, hanging up after a few rings, long enough to leave a missed call log.

Then one day out of the blue she picked up the phone right away. A year had passed since I last talked to her. A couple of months had passed since I though of her and called her.

ps the video is reposted from Lazy Geisa who is a collector of DJK videos. Though the vids are girl girl only, when the porn versions are more appropriate, most of the time the female are half wanting and half rejecting. The good thing is that, with girl-girl, you don't need to imagine me in that.

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

Erasing Chanel

I tied her wrist tight with plumber's thread sealing tape, wrapped her naked body up tight like a mummy, spanked her good and then screwed her hard as if she's a flesh light. These were what I wanted to do to her after the worst play day ever. But knowing that it wasn't very realistic, instead I erased any trace of existence of Chanel in my possessions. I know it's silly high school all over. But for some it might be priceless - it's not true that you only live once.

I used to opt for the summary bill for my cell phone. I don't want any numbers appearing on the bill for obvious reason. Nowadays even prepaid cell phones can have an online account and hence full call logs. So you have to be careful. I checked my old electronic contact files to make sure she was deleted completely.

Weeks had passed when I began to feel impatient. There was no point calling her even if I could, because she wouldn't apologize and made it up to me. I couldn't let go so it would not be buying smiles, a waste of money. I hoped she would call to apologize when she needed some money. But last time it took her four months to call me. This was a bit of a dilemma. I could have to wait a couple of months before giving up on her altogether. I was thinking of a solution that I could call her instead of just wait and see. That was why I deleted her, to protect myself, so even if I wanted to call her I couldn't. So I have to let go, may be with the help of a few beauties and lots of sex.

I Googled her number before I deleted her. It was more of a habit of checking out new girls rather than hoping to find anything new about her. I'm not so stupid as to pay for the records that they claim they have. Maybe they have something, but if I thought of that, I would have lookup her home address while I was with her. Though sometimes you may notice the change of carrier or the locality associated with the phone number. Anyway, these public records are very unreliable.

When I was checking other girls out, her number popped right out at me. It was browser history, or auto completion. In a split second I decided to keep that. But next time I will remember to erase that also.

Now I would rather not wait but resort to something that works for her always - money. I gave up my pride and would pay her enough so she would let me punish her willingly. Called it even and then I would dump her - it's only money. Spanking came to mind and I knew she would probably do it. I spanked her a little before but she felt unease when I got harder. Also, I always made up and made out with her bottom way before my hands could do any harm. With extra incentive I think she would go for it.

The thought of tying her up and spanking pleased me. But I knew she would not agree to such dangerous thing unless the "ropes" are waver thin. So I thought of plumber's tape. It looks the part when wrapping tight round her waist, tying knots. Even better, there are enough tapes in a little roll to tie her up all over, Japanese porn style. It could wrap her up like a mummy too. The visual is rather good too. There's innocent white, dangerous yellow and cute pink to choose from.

So be it. I called her, but she didn't return my calls. I was looking for an outlet, and then a closure. Now I was blocked. Anyway the anger and frustration dissipated after a week or two. I only called her when I went out to play, giving her the chance first. Once she picked up the call, saying she couldn't make it, she was taking "family" pictures, but far from where she lived. I think she was trying to tell me something subtly, or she just said anything as an excuse. I think she asked if I could wait till the next day, or she didn't ask if I could wait for the first time. Either way, I wasn't bitter anymore. Because if she didn't make it up to me, I might be able to forget her altogether.

Two days before I left for paradise for two months to fuck as if there's no tomorrow, I gave her the chance to see me before I called somebody else. It was morning and I only gave her four rings. She managed to pick it up.

Again she asked if I could wait till tomorrow. The excuse this time being that she ate something bad and her face was terrible. For all I knew she could be having an orgy last night and totally unsuitable to work that day. That's another reason I never gave her second chances and called somebody else. Before I could say I couldn't, she asked about my trip and when I was leaving. She remembered it even when I only mentioned it briefly once over a month ago. I said tomorrow. She asked if I mind if her face doesn't look all that good. Maybe I didn't mind, maybe I was curious. She then asked nicely that it have to be near Disney, so she could see the doctor after.

I wasn't expecting her to come out to play just like that. There wasn't time to think of anything - spanking and the plumbing tapes. If I didn't give her enough warning and turn up with the tapes, she would be freaked out. Also I then felt that I had plenty of time to make her pay me back. She answered my calls and wanted my money of course.

My plan was just to give her a quickie, screw her doggy, no kissing anywhere, and then leave. Even if that was a waste of my money, it would make me feel good. She doesn't care about my complains, but she cares about how she looks, and how much I want to screw her and worship her body. Perhaps if you lose one client, you may start losing everybody.

I met her at an expensive motel near Disney. At that time of the year all rooms are expensive. When I opened the door, the mystery thickens. Today's mystery - she came in expensive shoes as usual that I didn't even remember to look. My eyes were fixed at her $200+ jeans that made her ass looked amazing. She was in a black T-shirt that looked very teen. Her super high volume straight shoulder length one layer cut was back, my favorite, looked as if she was right out of the salon. For the first time I noticed that her eyebrow was neatly trimmed, which looked as if she had just been to the beauty salon. Worst of all, she had matching manicure and pedicure, pink for the first time.

I called her in the morning and by the time she arrived, it was after lunch. For all I know she could have hurried to the hair and beauty salon so she wouldn't look like in a mess when she saw me. She could be in a mess if she didn't go to work or see her boyfriend for days. She could have an earlier appointment, or a later one, with her number one client, so she was in such splendid condition, and didn't want me to be jealous seeing her like that, or asked her questions. Her face looked good. Either she covered well the blemish due to eating the wrong food, or she made a little flaw on her makeup to cover up her another lie. I couldn't believe her that she had booked a doctor near Disney. Nothing matters much because I always logged her words without judging them. If I asked she might have to invent more lies. As for this time, she could be doing it all for me, but she probably wouldn't admit it.

Everything was according to plan, giving her a quickie, leaving right after. Except that I couldn't resist to kiss her. It wasn't too much of a kiss. There's always a limit that I could do with her lips. It doesn't look like she had much lipstick on but probably she wouldn't want to reapply it all over again. Perhaps the lipstick was as expensive as her makeup that made her skin looked flawless as if having nothing on. She did complain about costing her when I messed up her face. Most of the time she would be going out somewhere after our meeting, or sometimes I caught her probably cold calling her other client on the parking lot. Why not, she's all dressed up and made up all beautifully.

Instead of DFK that sort of thing, she prefers to stick her tongue out, and let me do whatever I want with it with my mouth, lips, and tongue, Japanese porn style. For DFK it's too close to see anything. for DJK, I could see her tongue curling against mine.

After shower I put my clothes back on, waiting for her to finish hers. Instead of putting her clothes on, she laid in bed tummy down, dangling her feet up in the air, like this without the shoes nor anything else, covered only by pink nail polishes.

Probably it was too earlier to go anywhere and she would rather wait in the motel room. But it was like old times, she would show off her naked body after sex so I would remember to come back for her. Against all odds I didn't touch her toes so far. I would love to go back in bed, do some cuddling and massage her feet. Though it could end up in toe flossing and she had to wash all over again. But now I knew she wanted me back so I was in no rush. I would be flying to paradise shortly.

I really didn't know this girl. She could lie or tell me the truth that she plucked her eyebrows just for me, or painted her toes pink just for me. I would forget about everything and let her take advantage of me again. But she grabbed the chance just to say that she wasn't good in sweet talking, which meant she was sorry for what happened but she wasn't going to apologize.

She was a Casino host as Sam in Las Vegas, but she was the online version. I didn't know how it works but she was trying to say that Johnny was her whale, who owed her money. She used my cell to spoof him to collect the debt. She failed and lost a couple of thousands. That explained why her face grew so red after the call. But I never took her words seriously, less so when she wasn't offering an explanation straight and square.

One thing was certain, she admitted that she was on the pill and now off the pill. That explained why I wanted to dump her and didn't return her call sometimes, and that I was so hot on her recently, seeing her week after week. The mystery deepens as to whether she had the chance to find a new boyfriend, wanted to get her old boyfriend back, or wanted to go back to escort full time. I asked if she had been working more. She denied but said that the sort of guys remaining nowadays were smelly. It was a denial but if I heard something about her she could explain that she tried briefly and stopped. But how did she know?

She knew it's a waste of time, and put her clothes back on all of a sudden, disappointed and cursing silently at the same time. And probably an hour had just passed, exactly. I walked her to the door. While she was walking out of the door, she looked back to say goodbye and then carried on walking. But she said, "Call me", causally when I was looking at the back of her head, moving away. If she held me tight naked and ask me that, most likely I would do whatever she asked for the next few months. Oh yes, I might say no or took the opportunity to demand conditions. But what had she got to lose? This is one of her ways. I didn't have time to think so I couldn't give her conditions. If I didn't response positively she could just carry on walking away. Basically I was speechless and I wanted to save the victory lap when I came back from paradise. But I wanted to make her feel bad. I wanted to complain but couldn't find the few right words.

"You're too highbrow" was all I managed to say. It didn't much sense and she couldn't have prepared for it. I thought she wanted to response but choked on her words. She moved on, and that's the last time I saw her.

Sunday, December 09, 2007

The worst play day - epoch zero

The events leading to the worst play day are here. I woke up in the morning. I did my rituals as usual - shave my shaft and trim my balls. It wasn't for her. I do it on all occasions if I have time, for example, the safe time for brushing and flossing is a couple of hours before the session. Also, used my wife's facial scrub with micro pores to cleanse my delicate skins. I'm not fussy, in fact I'm lazy. Delicate facial scrub seems to be the magic bullet for lazy people. It's powerful like sand paper, but doesn't hurt on your most delicate parts. Best of all, I didn't even need to buy it. If I get some body scrub myself, or some kind of body sponge, that would be suspicious.

Then I called her and left her a message, telling her to call me when she woke up. The hotel was booked. My schedules were rearranged. She confirmed in no unmistakable terms that she would turn up for lunch. But we hadn't fixed the time. I knew most likely she hadn't wake up when I called her. I was hoping to get her out earlier and do something before lunch.

Lunch time was approaching and still she didn't return my call. I also called her a couple of times. I was crossed. I couldn't think of a reasonable reason for her. I dumped working girls before for more trivial reasons. But I was curious what she had to say. I wasn't doing much work and so I checked in the hotel to meditate - lying in bed watching TV. If the room wasn't prepaid I would have canceled and drove to Beverly Hills instead. All will be forgotten.

At this point, I hope my reader(s), Livvy in particular, will not be disappointed that I told a little of this story before. But I have to get the full version out before I can explain why she almost turned me into a stalker recently.

And I wasn't mixing business with pleasure, my dear Mcwhore. It was pure business. I am a good employer of hers. Relatively speaking, I was paying her McDonald's salary so she wouldn't want to turn up at Walmart. I know sometimes she works at Target but wouldn't want to miss the extra pay from McDonald's. I know her heart wasn't in it but I know how to get the most out of her. In this case I had given her enough free lunch in arguably the best restaurant in town. For once I had this modest request in return - food before sex instead of the other way round.

We were way pass the stage of giving other mixed signals. Once she went so far as to sitting on top of me, beating my lower back with her fist, trying to beat the truth out of me - who's better in bed, my wife or her. She wasn't joking. I took some punches thinking of something. The best I got was that I don't need a condom with my wife. She was speechless, disappointed, and let go of me. It is not what you are thinking. I gave her early warning that my wife was shrinking back to normal after producing another kid. It's just one of those half truth excuses I planted on her so that she wouldn't depend on my McDonald's salary too much. I could be gone tomorrow, probably with a new girl. Whatever she did, it wasn't about me. However, if I was wrong, it explained why she must had hated me.

Five minutes to noon I got a call from her. Just when I was ready to give up, check out and think of something else. She just told me she would be coming to the restaurant. No explanations. No nothing. She didn't give me the chance to ask any questions. She just say she was busy today. Though, she TOLD me to get a table first. I was expecting an apology but getting shit. Well I rather not having a freebie lunch if I have to take this. What was she thinking? But I know she couldn't resist taking the money. That's why she turned up.

Well I really don' t know what's on her mind. Did she hate me for making a conditional appointment after lunch, that she had to look beautiful? Did she want to give me a message or teach me a lesson because I want extra freebie not on the clock? I booked her three days ago and if she had more important things to do, she could always reschedule me. But it's my fault that she knew that wouldn't happen. She knew that she had to turn up or nothing. Part of the reason is that I'm not a totally free man. If there's a time window and I wanted to screw someone, I'll call her. If she couldn't make it that's her bad luck. Part of it is jealousy. If she appreciates my McD's salary, let me triumph everybody else. If she doesn't bother to turn up, I understand.

When I was calm sipping my premium brewed beer at the restaurant lounge, waiting for a table, she called me impatiently, asking me did I get the table yet. Not yet. I forgot that we always turned up late so there were plenty of tables. I didn't thought we need to reserve one. This time we were early. But the wait wouldn't be long, it was a big restaurant, and not cheap for lunch. She turned up two minutes later anyway.

If I don't know she's a professional liar, I would think she has a split personality or bipolar. On Friday she was speaking on the phone like an obedience girlfriend, confirming everything. Come Monday, she came not in a good mood, as if she was bothered by something, bothered that she had to turn up.

It might be that she has a real boy friend living with her, knowing everything. He disapproved of the lunch date when he found out later, and so she had to act accordingly. Or it was her best friend, mentor, from hell who disapproved. It happened all the time. She promised me something without hesitation, then regret it later. She gave me her email address right away when I asked. But seemed to regret it and never returned my email.

She has near porcelain skin. The first big step in our relationship was that she kissed me when she knew I was about to dump her sooner or later. The next one was perhaps I conquered her feet. At first I could fuck her hard core but I couldn't touch her feet. At the end she was enjoying professional pedicure and foot spa and then showed off her feet. I must had turned into Belle de jour's toe flosser. Then one day I spread her legs and checked out her ass. It was lovely pinkish and I couldn't resist giving her star fish lingering kisses. For me it isn't something submissive on my part as AH thinks. Worship is worship. You want it all, you want it with all your senses. My lips are more sensitive than my fingers, the tongue is thousands of times more sensitive than finger tips. You can feel the skin texture and the minute reactions. Well, you can taste at the same time with your tongue, and smell too because your nose is so close. These could be problems with the star fish, but we always take a shower first in turn. If she enjoys it, it's a plus. If she doesn't, it's even better. It's torture physically or of the mind. The first time she took it naturally. She didn't resist and let me took my time. Then, she refused to spread her legs ever again when I wanted to try that again. It seemed like that her one body comes with two minds. Or she has a close real boyfriend, or a close mentor, who disapprove of that for McD's salary.

Now I had already taken several blows. She didn't return my calls for the whole morning when we had a firm appointment. I was supposed to be in LA, handing in my passport renewal forms in person to some embassy, though in fact I mailed it in. I saved this excellent excuse for her but she made a mess of it, when I could really drive to LA and Beverly Hills. She called me up at the last minute to get a table ready for her. Then turned up just to take the money and spending as little time as possible.

I was crossed for a while but calmed down. It was her nature and she was capable of these things from time to time, as if she was another person. I knew her number one rule is not to explain the unexplainable. But I was there, patient and waiting. Finally she spoke impatiently, "my cell ran out of battery".

Her number two rule must be, when you can't remain silence, say anything. My brain was flashing like the Intersect, then like a Vulcan getting the most irrelevant illogical input, all fuses in my brain blown off. I started to be detached. Well if she called me again, she had to make it up big time. She always had to. But if she planned to retire, there's nothing much I could do but to enjoy the last meal. I wasn't cruel enough to make her turning up for nothing. If it were all, I would have forgotten about it. But these were only tip of the iceberg.

Her cell phone running out of battery wasn't an explanation, but a plot. Soon after we sat down on the table, she borrowed my cell. The moment somebody answered the phone I regretted it. I thought she would be calling somebody, saying that she was at lunch and she would be late, reschedule or something. But what did she do? First, she turned into a different person. Not the impatient bothered girlfriend sitting opposite me at the table. She became a very lively person talking to her new boy friend, or her number one client, "Hellooo Johnnyyy! .........................." By the way, that's his real name, I checked. She was really very happy that he answered the phone. And the dots meant that the conversation was really lively and long, and she was enthusiastic. In contrast, a minute earlier we looked like boring old husband and wife at lunch.

God knows how many rules she broke by doing that. I was speechless, boiling over, taking blows after blows like sitting on the beach when a tsunami arrives. Firstly I want to arrest her there and then for "behavior of unbecoming a hooker", for using my cell phone to call another client, and without blocking my caller ID. It was unprofessional to mention other clients, let alone chatting to one, when you are on a lunch date.

I don't give a damn if she was telling other client that she would be late. It was obviously a cold call. She was chatting away as if I wasn't there. I knew she didn't want to be there, but did it had to be like that? Money don't buy you happiness, but it should be enough to buy you smiles! That's all professionals are about, and she knows it. I don't care if she was chatting to her mother or sister, it was insulting. I was cheap to ask for a free lunch date, but not cheap enough to take these.

At first I thought it was one of her favorite clients. I was jealous because she seldom talked to me like that on the phone. But then I didn't think I paid as much. Suddenly it dawned on me that she was really bad. She must had spoofed me with her other clients phone when I didn't answered her call!!! If I wasn't available to play, I wouldn't answer her call, and sometimes wouldn't return her call at all. I think she understood I would be in the middle of something when she called. There's no point to pick up the phone when I couldn't play, and there's no point to return her call either. She did the same too when I called her.

Now it dawned on me that sometimes she thought I dumped her so she used other clients' cell phone so I didn't know it's her who's calling and answer the phone. That explained some mysterious calls with dubious numbers that I didn't answer. I dumped some agencies too who would call me when they have new girls. I thought it was them. But I also picked up the phone when it was her calling from other numbers. I never thought she was that bad. It also explained some mysterious text, which must be her client trying to find out who she was calling.

She was bad, but I was honored. She must cared enough (about the money) to spoof me like that. But now I know she hanged out with some other clients, but not me. Now she didn't care that much about me (my money) anymore, but care more about Johnny ('s money).

It was worse. That explains her other bipolar behaviors. Sometimes she wanted to hang up fast when I called, but other times she encouraged me to chat a bit first even she couldn't come out to play. It wasn't how much she wanted me (my money) at the time. When we chatted I had a hunch that she was with other clients, now I'm certain. She took the chance to create competition, or to teach someone a lesson.

In the past I would have given her half the money and left. I did exactly that once. But she refused to go, sort of begging me to have sex, and took ALL the money. This time I didn't thought of that. Maybe I sensed that she was going to quit any time soon. I wanted to fuck her good one more time.

My saving grace was that, her conversation began to turn sour, though I didn't hear a word what she said. When she finally hung up, her face was red, her head was down, thinking of something sad. I was a little happier, but I must looked like a bomb to her when her mind was back to the table. She tried to defuse it by asking me what's wrong, as if she didn't know. I hated that and remained silence. "Is it the charge?", that almost triggered an explosion. Well, she knew I was trying the prepaid thing so it cost a few dollars. Did I look like the kind of person caring about a 10 dollar bill? But it's sad listening to their chat on my account. I couldn't manage to simply tell her I was jealous. Did I need to say that? Wasn't that what she wanted by calling Johnny, and she got it?

She wanted an answer, otherwise I would be sitting there boiling over and did nothing. So I gave her one, a good one. I was concerned about my caller ID. She told me it wasn't a cell phone, it was home, so it was unlikely my number would be logged on the phone. But she was naive or she just tried to say something. Most phone carrier has records of all calls on the bill. If you subscribe to caller ID and have a non-primitive phone, all numbers will be logged. To ensure mutual destruction, the first thing I went home was to lookup the number. It wasn't home. It was a business. I got Johnny's full name, photo, her wife's, his number of employees and turnover. I wasn't even paying a dime for the info. I never had the chance to show or send this to her and teach her a good lesson not to mess with other's phone numbers. If I picture text her from cold or email her, it looked like blackmail.

She almost confirmed indirectly then it couldn't be uncle Johnny. She was in a way saying she did outcall at his home, or actually business, which made more sense when he had a wife. I was jealous because once I invited her to my home, but she wasn't keen because it was too far, and hinted extra compensation for the trouble. Working girls, imagine how many client's number that you can recall? She typed in Johnny's number on my cell. That's something. Or it was a plot. She memorized his number before she left her car and came in. Either way, it was bad. But she went through those trouble typing in my number previously made me feel better. It's sad that I was falling out of favor or she was quitting.

I think she lost Johnny and her mind was back. I put everything aside. If she quited, there's no hard feelings but if she didn't, she would have to make it up to me big time, sooner or later. It was a social lunch and my natural charm returned. Unintentionally I made her laugh even though she wasn't in the mood after losing Johnny. It was not as enjoyable as the others that I had with her, but not too bad, considering the bad start.

I should have stayed crossed, or pretended to be. She got away with it and she wanted more. Knowing that we were going to Ramada, she asked nicely if she could to go to Neiman Marcus first. I could have said no but I was trying to be nice. Also, it would be to my advantage that she would not be in a rush back there after sex.

It was rather insulting that I had to wait in my car rather than showing off my trophy girlfriend in Neiman Marcus. There's nothing wrong with me. In the same Fashion Island, I went in and out of at least Bebe's and Victoria Secret's changing rooms with my girlfriend's without problem. Maybe they aren't not as pretty but certainly Jordan caused more of a stir. So I think she didn't want to run into her friends who know her boyfriend. But somehow I always think that every time she told me she had to go there, she was going to return her client's gifts for cash. That's why she wouldn't want me to know her tricks of the trade. Or this time she was really shopping for something in order to dress to kill. I knew she had something big coming up. She didn't want me to be jealous.

I was crossed again as it was at least 20 min or 30 minutes in the parking lot. You just can't expect a client to wait like that before sex. She did called to make sure that I was waiting for her. She was afraid that I would be gone. I didn't care if nobody was available to serve her. I told her another 20 min and I would be gone. I drove off in 15 though. I never left her high and dry even though she was late 99% of the time. I only left once when she was late every time for a couple of times. I was busted once and I no longer could afford the time. She was on probation and I waited for her in a gas station. She was late and I left, not answering her calls.

But I didn't leave her alone this time. She had been worrying how to get to Ramada from NM. I was not exactly sure because the fastest route would be a coastal drive that I wasn't familiar. That's why I left her there so I could try the route and gave her directions. Also, I thought I could scare her a little. She was alarmed when she got out of NM and couldn't see my car. When I told her the directions over the phone she wouldn't believe me at first, thinking I was directing her to the hotel when I was in fact going home.

It really wasn't my day. I shouldn't have picked Newport Beach. At the last left turn into Ramada, she was stuck there for a while. She saw a Ferrari with a handsome young man in it. And she told me all that! Also she was sort of drooling over his car and the guy. I told her her boyfriend's car she was driving isn't that bad. Just get out of the car now and pretend to have problems. She told me that it would be too obvious and wouldn't work. I agreed. But I also wanted to tell her stop drooling and get to work fast, finish the last left turn. I hanged up because she didn't need any more turn by turn instructions.

Before we started. She reiterated that she was busy and needed to go to South Coast Plaza afterward. I didn't give a damn as I wasn't going to rush myself for you. But I thought of my original plot. I prepared enough time for us to go shopping. And there was a lingerie outlet in South Coast that Sophia Ong recommended. So I told her maybe I could take her shopping. She was looking forward to it. I always wanted to take her shopping. But it seemed that she wouldn't risk being seen. Once she was behaving good enough for a couple of meetings so I offered her the chance after lunch, when she told me she was going to NM. She would love to but I called to find out my wife was shopping too, most likely in Fashion Island. So we split. My offer this time was a mistake. What was I thinking? Maybe I was thinking to give her enough incentive so she would compensate me everything in bed this time. Maybe the lingerie pictures Sophia posted clouded my brain.

I took the shower first. She lifted the curtain a bit. I thought she was coming in to join me for a change. But no, she was complaining I was too slow without saying it out. Damn it.

So I tortured her with my tongue and fucked her hard. Any harder I would cum. Then I pulled out and asked her to do a doggy. For the first time she refused, though in a playful way. Normally she offered as many positions as I could manage. I was really crossed. But what could I do? I knew she was telling me she was in a rush, but how long could a doggy take?

So I finished off, wounded. But here came the pinch of salt. She was very nice, expecting me to take her shopping. Damn. So I took gave her the money and gave her enough extra for her to shop on her own. I had no mood to go with her.

My logic was that, I was trying to stay nice, because I knew she was worrying I would take some revenge against her. And if she wanted more money by working double shift in Walmart, or go upmarket to work in Cheesecake Factory instead, I would rather offer a part time assistant manager post for her in McD. That why I showed her the money. If she was going to quit, I hope that she loved the extra money enough to quit later for me. Then I had the chance to make her pay for her bad, making up everything to me.

She left a very happy girl with all the extra money in her pocket. I was totally humiliated, part of it my fault for letting her. I brought some smiles alright, but I was very upset. The time and money was totally wasted.

Friday, December 07, 2007

Passionate affair on demand

The title would have been Thanks Giving Confessions, if I finished it earlier. But it doesn't really matter, it didn't even occurred on the latest Thanks Giving. I remember it every year though.

It was a rare occasion that my wife have a work related meeting. And since we have no where to travel on Thanks Giving, we used the excuse to fly somewhere. We checked in the local top resort hotel, in our adopted home town, which had a very good tourist rate.

Maybe it's the place, or maybe it's the season, I was in the mood. I can still give my wife orgasms and multiple orgasms on occasions, but it has to be at the right time for her, like Saturday night, when she doesn't need to wake up early the next morning. Can you believe that?

Above all, can you have a passionate affair with your wife? I still like to kiss her passionately at times during sex and she would allow me to kiss her on occasions when she was in her pre-orgasm trance. But that's very different from having sex for the first time with someone that you have a crush on or lust after. It's more complicated than that but let's get to the details.

She took the rental car to the meeting. I have no cell phone either. I couldn't do anything but luckily I'm once a local there. So I walked out of the resort hotel, went to the news agency, got the right classified newspaper and called an agency from my hotel room! I was sure I had enough time for that during her meeting. And after the meeting, I was sure she would be more interested in driving to Bond Street or Harvey Nicols, then coming back to have sex. This is what she missed most while I missed the local girls!

I also walked to Thomas Cook with my big dollar bills stashed in the secret luggage compartment. I hid some just in case. The tourist exchange rate was painful but I no longer have bank accounts there, which would have given me the best rate. The guy in Thomas Cook was curious. He asked questions, making sure I was a tourist and had no other choice. The questions that he didn't ask must include why a tourist carry so much cash instead of traveler's check or just credit card?

I pulled it off - a passionate affair of sort. She was Rebecca. It was a right decision to go for an agency for part-timers (claimed) rather than a model agency. She looked so real, like the several young pretty admins in the companies that I worked for, who have crushes on me of some sort, that I didn't know how to proceed as a married man. Even better, she was a real nurse who must had worked at the hospital round the corner. She must be the prettiest among my admins because she had the least makeup on. It took me a few seconds to realize that any makeup that a nurse put up must not fall off easily. It limits a lot that she could put on.

May be it's all an act, making up a nurse fantasy for me. She even subtly showed her nurse badge. I believed her because I didn't ask for a nurse. I was once local so she wouldn't dare to elaborate on the illusion. It just happened that the agent wanted to send me her top girl, who was a nurse. She didn't say it but she must had trouble going off her duties. She said I had to wait an hour but I showed my hesitation. Remember the "meeting"? It would be a classic movie scene if my wife came back while Rebbecca was still naked in bed with me. Throw her and her clothes out of the window? But Rebbecca turned up early after all, fearing that I might call somebody else. That could explain the nurse makeup on her.

Damn. If I believed the agent earlier, I might ask Rebbecca to come in her real uniform! I asked her to wear a short skirt instead. The next best to a school / cheer leader uniform. Instead of sexy legs, she made it cute with a plain Jane sweater top and winter leggings under her overcoat. That wasn't my intentions, but by chance she reminded me of the swarm of cute local school girls who blocked my passage everyday I drove pass the train station. I could imagine Rebbecca wearing that same uniform not long ago. But now she was mature enough to have a passionate affair with.

The amount of toiletries, makeups and other things in the bathroom must be obvious that I was with someone. Even though I tried a little to cover up the obvious - pushing things a little bit aside and cover others with a towel. I just didn't want anybody to be alarmed that my wife might come back anytime. But I couldn't do much to hide because if I put everything away, I could not put them back like it was.

Rebbecca was like the several admins, who couldn't even imagine that I was married. I thought admins would check personal files the first thing they have interest on someone. But obviously they didn't. It seemed that they never thought about that. Rebbecca was no different. Obviously no guy can have that much things in the bathroom. She went into the bathroom alone to freshen up when she arrived. If she cared to look just a little at the little bottles, they were all female makeup or toiletries.

What did she do? She kept asking me out, in a way. It was late morning or early afternoon. She kept asking me what I would be doing in the evenings. I wasn't a smart guy when it comes to dating. That I have a wife complicated things. Since I couldn't find the right words, she rounded up by saying that I must had a lot of old friends to see. I could only say yes. But after a while she asked again. It's obvious that she wanted to come back in the evening after her work. It's obvious that she couldn't believe that I would turn her down, if she gave me an offer that I couldn't refuse. But I didn't even want to talk about it.

After the sex as described in the old post, she wasn't going anywhere. She might be still thinking what I would be doing in the evenings instead of having her again. She laid in bed so calmly with me that I was embarrassed to told her, "you can go now". She was embarrassed that she got the wrong message, that I liked her very much. I did. But I had to sent her away just in case. She didn't know that it's better to be safe than sorry. My wife had the rental car and she could be back early. I didn't think I would see her again. I gave her a big tip anyway. But I didn't get a smile in return. She must be disappointed and unsure of herself.

Once she was out I imagined that I was James and called the professional cleaners from the secret service. I made sure that they arrived before I left the crime scene for lunch. On my way out I admired their disguise, nothing can be better than maids in a hotel.

It was against all odds that I had the chance to do it again the next day. My wife was actually in Bond Street or Harvey Nicols. But I destroyed the newspaper classified - no paper trail. It wasn't a big deal. So I went to the newsagent again, together with some big dollar bills intended for Thomas Cook later. But to my big surprise Friday was the day for new classified ads, and the agency was so small that it didn't even advertise every week.

I asked the newsagent for an old copy. She told me that all unsold copies were returned to the publisher, and I should try them. Luckily the regional newspaper was headquartered in town. It didn't take me long to walk there. But it was a Sunday. I banged hard on the front door and the back door. No response. I was so desperate as to call other agencies on the classified and asked for Rebbecca the nurse. They must had think that I was crazy and hanged up immediately. After I calmed down I decided not to see anybody else. It wasn't worth the money, the trouble and the risk, the day right after I met Rebbecca.

Thursday, December 06, 2007

The world's facination with tiny videos


The world's fascination with tiny videos is beyond me. I have a number of collectible sex "tapes" with me in it. I decided against releasing it online because the resolutions of free hosting sites are two low. Youtube is one of those low resolution hosting sites that I considered and rejected. The founders went on to become billionaires, while my sex "tapes" are still scattered around my PC and in my own DVD's.

Now it's the era of HiDef. Blue Ray and HD DVD are hoping porn to drive sales, just as they did for VHS and Beta. But tiny videos are ever so popular. Anyway, this is the kind of video that I liked, though I prefer flesh and blood. I hope readers coming from that porn site weren't too disappointed for once.

I'll be back. I know I started a lot of topics that I didn't finish, and I have accumulated a few more stories and confessions. But I don't have the energy to engage something that will take me an hour to write, such as the worst play day. Baby steps are what I learned.

Monday, November 05, 2007

Teresa Carr Deni

Erotic material exploring is being interrupted for a piece of important news. Teresa Carr Deni is the judge who declared that prostitutes cannot be raped. Gang raped at gun point became armed robbery charges, because sex is a service agreed by both sides beforehand, before things turned ugly. See my shared panel for more details all over the web.

At first it was like one of those outrageous judgments in the line of the judge who gave a child molester probation or 30 days. But the outrage here is the sentence. This Deni judge was setting a precedence that is huge.

Firstly, my analysis is that this Teresa is a bitter woman. There must be sometime in her life that her men was stolen from her by other women. May be she was once and likely still in a sexless marriage, and her husband buys sex. May be just that she hadn't been laid for years (and years). She took it out on people she thinks inferior to her, like prostitutes.

Or, she was just desperate to get some (votes).

I can think of this has big human rights issues. Someone cannot be raped by law. Where's Amnesty International?

Gang rape at gun point become armed robbery. Wow, what next. Kidnapping a prostitute to rape becomes shoplifting? Date rape a prostitute becomes drugging someone for theft?

This is way beyond prostitution. Say if a girls says, "you buy me a drink and I go home with you." If she gets raped, he could get away with robbery. This cannot be right. What were you thinking Teresa?

Friday, November 02, 2007

The worst play day

It wasn't the five hundred dollar hand job (I'll confess later). It wasn't the day I deleted Jordan. It was the other natural born heartbreaker.

The build up to the worst play day started one fine holiday season. Maybe I booked her earlier than usual. She invited me for lunch causally after we put our clothes back on. But I must had booked her early before. She just came about the same time no matter what, making her later than usual. Her excuse? Her mother went to hospital a total of twice since I knew her.

At first it was great. I bet she made me forget the clock. We were way over time, which was a big thing considering that she was a clock watcher to the minutes, pretending otherwise. So when we went out of bed, it was exactly time for lunch. I took her to my fav Japanese restaurant, which she preferred over hers. At least the wait is shorter. Once we were taken to a very private booth and we talked until all the other patrons left. I wanted to take her shopping if I could. She looked forward to it. I made a call, only to find out that I couldn't. The other time she liked the sashimi so much that she wanted a Japanese beer to go with it. She shouldn't because she had liver problems. But what prevented her from drinking was that I couldn't drink. I didn't want to go back to work with a red face. I regretted that I didn't. It is these little things that you want to do it differently when you have the chance again.

After a few times, jealousy set in. I knew her so long and only now she did something extra for me, not on the clock. Maybe her boyfriend didn't take her to lunch anymore. But I doubt it. She said she didn't see her boyfriend that much even at good times. Maybe she lost an early bird client and I was the substitute. I hated her for not giving me the chance; I would have up my bid if she was willing to hang out sometimes. I wasn't jealous if the other client paid a lot for the package. But since I wasn't paying anything extra, naturally I didn't think he did.

I hated her (I mean a tiny little bit) for not having lunch before date, but after. She just wanted free lunch. I knew of course, but she should give me back something in return, like having delicious food before sex. Also I have been giving her a very good tip to compensate for her extra time. I wouldn't want to keep that up.

Maybe it was the holiday season when she had personal problems. I knew I couldn't be her life jacket and I was afraid of getting too close. She only listen to what she wants to listen. I try not to ask her any personal questions, nor complain about her. If she doesn't like to talk about it, she doesn't talk. I bottled up everything all inside me, saving everything for the day we say goodbye.

I didn't call her for a couple of months after the holiday season! It was my new year resolution and I was good at it, until one day she called me up. Any resolutions went up in smoke. I didn't even explain myself, nor asked her why, why after so long. I just asked her to come out that day.

It was worse after a short absence. I was seeing her almost every week. I was seeing her more than I would like to. I was trying to push the envelope a little to see what she was comfortable of doing. She promised me a lot of things, like toys, but used delay tactics and lies to duck out of them. I gave her money to buy something. She would be not having the chance to get it when I saw her again. Then I had to see her again to give her enough time to buy it. Sometimes I just forgot about it and asked her to do something instead, letting her off her promises.

But honestly, her shape was getting better, returning to her old self. But she wasn't into it. She needed some money. It seemed like she had something big on her mind, like making over to get back her boyfriend, or had her sight locked on a new target. Or she was getting in shape to escort full time. I just didn't like her new hair style. But I was into it. Once I found out that I left the wallet on the bed several hours after we left. Once I wondered why everything was still a blur when I was driving out of the motel. I left my glasses on the nightstand.

She was behaving so good and so consistent that I did the unthinkable. After careful considerations on a Friday afternoon, I texted her.

"Lunch Monday?", it tooked me a long time to enter the question mark. I wasn't a text person, or more precisely, I was a full sized keyboard man.

"OK", was the reply a minute later.

I wanted to jump out of my chair if I could. It was like asking a girl out on a first date. It was more. She wasn't a computer person. I doubt if she would go anywhere near a PC. I was sure she wasn't a text person either. She might not even setup to receive text messages on her cell. I doubt if she knew how to read messages. I didn't expect that she knew how to reply. If I knew she didn't mind text messages, I would have used it long ago, saving a lot of troubles. A lot of times she couldn't pick up the phone. Our protocol is not to leave voicemails. So you can imagine the trouble we had.

But I had my reservations. I kept myself from getting my hopes too high. Maybe someone close to her played a prank on her. It wasn't her who replied. Maybe she didn't look at the caller ID and assumed that it was her friend, most likely her client, who used to text her. I would be very jealous because she didn't allow me to text her, pretending that she didn't know how to text at all. She didn't say that, but I felt that she hated this sort of things.

Anyway, I waited an hour to call her to find out. It was an agonizing hour, though very much exaggerated.

She picked up the phone in her obedience girlfriend mode, calm, straightforward, going out as a matter of fact way. It was unlike taking to a client, with teasing and emphasized emotions. It was like she was happy that her boyfriend take her out. It was like we last saw each other the same morning. Oh yes, she didn't make a mistake. She knew it was me who asked her out for lunch. At least she pretended very well that she knew.

I was very happy. I needed somebody to cheer me up. Maybe that explains why cheerleader costume is so popular. Normally there's always some risk requiring too much from her. She's unpredictable. But this time I was certain. So I pushed back my Monday schedules and didn't expect to go back to work after seeing her. I could take her shopping if she wanted to. Or I would just enjoy a movie myself after she left. I booked the nearest luxury motel close to the restaurant. It was a treat for myself as much as to impress her a little. Ramada in Newport beach is more expensive than many hotels in the nation. She's very understanding of this. She would rather split the difference than insisting on classy hotels, hypothetically speaking. She knew she is at a disadvantage to my other "girlfriends" who can host. Since I see her sometimes as often as weekly, she just needed clean sheets and a clean shower.

"After lunch, are we going to ...", she asked in her girlfriend mode, asking a delicate question in a cautious but matter of fact way. That surprised me. I did asked Emma out for lunch or coffee, and nothing else, which surprised or disappointed her. But for Chanel I wouldn't dream of something like that. I would never dream that she would just go for lunch with me for nothing.

But I joked that, "Only if you look all beautiful". I regretted saying that. I never thought she would take it seriously. I am never a serious person, though I never bother to try to tell good jokes. Maybe she didn't see my smile on the other side of the phone line. But she knew that sometimes she came in a mess and I didn't complain. I never knew if this joke made a difference. That's the problem with her.

I was looking forward to Monday, which turned out to be the worst play day of my life.