When worlds collide, I like the little effort in making up the title. I like to do the same, as in Cents and Sensibility, but only if the content doesn't disappoint.
The man behind the counter at the St. Marks Hotel definitely knows my secret. I often wonder what he thinks when he sees me show up there with different men more than once a week. As the proprietor of a notorious hooker hotel, he obviously knows what I’m up to. But my vanity and his discretion are so potent as to combine into a heady cocktail of suspension of disbelief. Me – young, pretty, white; perhaps he thinks I am just an amicable single girl with roommates and an active dating life. His eyes never flicker. He never offers any sign of recognition.It's a little show off of her writing skills. I like to do a little of that too, but I it's quicker for me to find some "template" to start with. Somehow I noticed from a self levitating express train, brought down the landing gear, slowed down to run on the rail track, and enjoyed the scenery. So I very understand why people complain that my writings bump them off. Apart from not exactly English (think Esperanto), the abruptness of content, tone and sentence structure doesn't bother me. Sometimes I'm levitating in a frictionless dimension.
I can identify very much with the contents such as the little observations on the motel staffs. To me it's the other side of the coin - me client, she call girl. Though "college" is either too young or too old, and definitely too intellectual for the majority of my girls.
There are too much free porn videos on the internet for me to have the patience to enjoy written erotica. Imagine that the music industry didn't go after anybody downloading illegal mp3's.
Ah, almost forget about her honesty:
I generally make house-calls, but the callgirl who only sees single men who live alone is subsisting on a pretty paltry diet, so I occassionally have to meet a married guy who can’t “host.”
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