Spoofy Spook

One year on, she wouldn't allow me to rest in peace. Now I am turning spooky and spoofy. I just called her from one of the top clubs during happy hour. I think she got a heart attach looking at the area code or the phone number. Or, just that someone was around and she couldn't talk. She pressed the ignore button without waiting for the voice mail prompt.

Of course I wasn't there. I used a caller ID spoofing service that is available for years. And since it's going to be illegal anytime soon, there are free promotions for 2 minutes. That is enough since she hasn't pick up the phone yet. Another limitation was 3 calls from the same IP address. But with TOR I can spoof the spoofers so it was unlimited for me. TOR is usually too slow for anything but it's good enough to submit just 3 phone numbers. I even spent a few dollars so I can do it from my cell on the go!

First stage will be calling from legit places such as her favorite restaurants. (That didn't work.) She wouldn't know who's calling and couldn't hold it against me. I don't know what's next yet but I had the numbers of the agencies she worked, the client she hated most, and even her best friend!

The last time we said goodbye, she said, "call me". She was upset when I didn't say yes. Then she didn't pick up the phone for a year. When she picked up, it's worse than she didn't. And before all these, you have to see for yourself how to hurt a client.

Deleting Jordan

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Merlot and the roast goose

After a roast goose and a glass of Merlot, I glazed at the stars. Like countless Homo sapiens before me, I feel so insignificant, so much is unknown, we are so mortal. The quest for immortality drives some of us to build legacies, like cave drawings, like Alexander the Great, or into religion. (is religion just someone's legacy?)

Glazing at fire balls all over the mountains have more impact. Lines of fire receding and advancing, lighting up the night sky into orange, right behind normally picture perfect homes. Come daytime, columns of smoke rise all the way up the blue heavens.

Analyze how much you can, but human needs are just mortal. Self-improvements are just indulgences. Even simple people, after satisfying their basic physiological needs, go on to build legacies, the simplest form being biology, investing all they have on their offspring. While very sophisticated people go on to do nothing much but indulgences, which isn't a bad thing at all.

But indulgences should always be traded off. Indulgences eat up resources that you can invest to further satisfy your mortal needs. And if you don't build enough security, your world can collapse on you all at once. In this aspect I also don't agree that human needs are hierarchical, it's a matrix, it's a pattern, a footprint, and that nothing is really higher up.

American indulges in self-help books to satisfy their security needs. The obsession seem to vary with the degree that US employees are screwed as compared to rest of the world, the lack of social security, and how bad they look from outsiders.

Indulgences eat up your legacy. If he stayed in his palaces, he would not be called the Great. This is somewhat different from the entrepreneurs who couldn't stop after their first million, their first billion, or their first rank in Forbes. They build bigger empires to feel more secure, more respectable, more esteemed and more sense of achievement. They acquire more fuel for their indulgences.

What if I don't believe in religion, and I just have a job, a great job though? Empires don't last. Nobody will remember Ford or Bill Gates after their brands disappear from market. While some wacky patents in the archives live on, if just for laughs. Someone started up a little field, only for later day greats to solve the world's problems and get the Nobel price. How about a writer? Or a script writer who's famous line lives on as well as the film in archives. For some it's easy, on the road from A to B, you just need to contribute something so later day people will admire you, if only a little, when they trace the little steps in the big picture. You are in the big picture. It's as natural as walking into your boyfriend's home and feel that it's under furnished.

Maslow mentioned sex twice in his hierarchy of needs. Perhaps it's that important. Correct me if I'm wrong, the first step in good sex should be building yourself a good body. Some people do, a lot don't even work out. Are the other improvements quick fixes? Do a lot of people trade off the potential of having great sex for their daily chores to survive and to feel secure? What will indulgence ends? Making a snuff movie?

So you are master of your 7-habits. So what?

I feel contented, at peace with myself, happy most of the time, grateful other times of what I have. I don't need any bible, guru, or the pharmacy. My home will be under furnished if I'm allowed to. I crossed path with a speed reading guru briefly and got my writings broken and grammar free as a side effect.

Now I'm going back to finish off the goose. And after that maybe a platonic massage with a cute girl for the full hour.

Hostess club etiquette

There are nightclubs, clubs, bars in Hong Kong. Many are very expensive drinking / entertainment places but they are not to be confused with hostess clubs, where you have one to one company, and you can at least take out some of them.

The term Japanese style hostess club don't mean much because it's the main stream. Mami brings a girl to your "table", corner or private room for company. Her time is charged in one to five minute intervals. In more traditional clubs, the popular girls may have to leave you and entertain other clients if requested. I think China style means the tables are arranged as in a restaurant, with less privacy, and there is a stage for shows. Whatever style, big clubs may have promotional shows on occasions, or permanently. Karaoke clubs guarantee that you have a private room, and of course a Karaoke machine, though your choices are limited to Céline Dion, Whitney Houston, etc.

Recommendations is a mine-field in Hong Kong. The situation is volatile and good teams may switch to other clubs all of a sudden. Be careful of discussion boards. Most report of clubs are disguised promotions by insiders. But it is safe if you pick one at random. At most if they are desperate and closing, they may not honor their promotional prices published somewhere. Just ask first and have at least a few hundred to a thousand in your pocket and you will be fine. Whereas in Macau, it's so easy that there are newspaper columns dedicated to field work. The choice is down to which Japanese porn star lookalike they have in stock.

Price starts at $300 an hour in HK, to some $1500 for two hours. It's more like $500/hr in Macau. To take one out, you multiply the hourly rate by 3, and times 1.5 to 2, plus other bits and pieces that can add up. There could be minimum cover on drinks.

In big clubs as in Macau, first you have a lineup, then you pick one for a 15 min introduction. In Hong Kong mami just send you one, but you can refuse right away. After 15 min, mami will come in, and your hostess will get out. You can have another girl for another introduction, or you can bring the girl back and start the clock. The introduction time are charged somewhat higher than the normal quoted rate.

There are 3 independent departments to compete for your dollars. The "restaurant" people always want you to drink as much as possible. Time keeping wants you to stay as long as possible, offering somebody to go out and buy you dinner. The girls, who will go out with you, want to protect your pocket from others, then to take them out as long as possible.

There are always simple package deals that include everything, typically in happy hours from about 1pm to 9pm, and on the HK Island side offered by some tourist and expat friendly setups. (Some clubs start 10 am.)

Now you get the girl. If she immediately takes you somewhere else to do something, you are in luck, and you are not in a hostess club. Usually you spend an hour to the whole evening, though I don't aware there's any minimum time. If you want the option of taking her out, you better tell the mami beforehand. In clubs with local girls (HK Chinese), a significant number do not go out, and they are the better looking ones. Intimacy depends on individual girls. You may get some hand holding if she thinks you may come back for a drink. Other girls will try to do everything to lure you out, taking them with you.

For some Karaoke clubs you have the option of doing it inside, which is illegal. But if you spend a couple of hours, management will turn a blind eye. There are VIP rooms with on-suite restrooms. You can hold a German FKK type orgy party if the girls are willing.

It's not cheap. One hour inside, one hour outside, and about the same amount to the girl for her service. Usually one hour isn't very respectable. 1.5 to 2 hours are more common. So it's can easily be six times the hourly rate. But in good clubs, girls seldom return after they go out. If you take a girl out of circulation for a couple of hours after 9 pm, she won't miss much even if she returns at the small hours. Regulars will call first to check if their favorites are free.

Surpassing Vegas

Hostess club are too complex in general for one to get the most out of it in his (no her) first few visits. Particularly in Hong Kong, it is a simple no unless you have some experienced host to show you around.

If you haven't got a clue, still it can be simplified a bit if you don't try to look at the bills. You go to the number one club BBOSS for example. In the evenings expect $1500 with a hostess for two hours, which could be enough to include some drinks. Taking her out is another $1500 for two hours of her time. Then another $1500 for her service. Though there are much better package deals on occasions, especially at daytime.

It's not only money. All clubs in Hong Kong are declining or even closing so you don't get quality. In the past clubs like BBOSS at least have symbolic value, where the biggest deals in the city or China are made, and you entertainment your biggest clients. Now there are plenty of comparable facilities in China, with superior lineups.

What hurt Hong Kong clubs most is the Macau phenomenon, which took off only after 2000. And since roughly 20 million Macau visitors uses Hong Kong dollars, versus less than half a million residents uses the local currency, and that most of the non-PRC visitors take the turbojet (boat) from Hong Kong less than an hour away, how can we not include Macau as part of the destination?

Excuse the research, but what should a player do other than surfing the web, when he didn't have enough energy to do anything else at the time, except recharging in bed with his laptop? This city, less than 10 sq mile, has higher revenue than Las Vegas. Soon it will certainly surprass the whole of Nevada. A table in Macau earns 7 times more than in Vegas.

Hong Kong do not have a casino, and Vegas do not have hostesses. China has the most billionaires after USA. Everybody noticed. Many Vegas big names are in Macau, Wynn, Venetian, etc. Playboy is going to open a complex there.

Vegas has been trying hard to lure the Asian high rollers, with adaptations in the food, the games, even the staff. But failure is certain. Similarly, the Tryst "nightclub" from Vegas was copied to Macau but folded. Prostitution in Macau is in theory as illegal as in Vegas, but the interpretation is very different in Macau. Hostess clubs are arguably best in the world, making the attached world class hotels giant brothels. Eastern Europeans are allowed to solicit in lobbies at the lower end hotels.

The Vegas culture is also very different from the Asian's. Las Vegas Courtesan has an interesting blog entry on the speed of Asian clients. It's some sort of cultural shock I suppose. A good night out back home for them includes two to a couple of hours' company with a hostess, mostly talking, singing, or at most a little groping. Then another two hours in love hotels, starting with a thorough hands-free shower. The hotel staff always call in at the end to ask if you want to extend your stay. Adding time, and hence paying her more, is preferred than big tipping. Asking for one hours is like asking for half hours from respectable US escorts, not classy. In contrast, a lot of Vegas call girls are dancer-like, ask you to get in bed and get comfortable very soon. She will start her routine if you do not start right away. I can understand the speed thing. When I expected GFE but got rushed instead, I would cut my losses, finish it while I still could, instead of total failure later if I tried to drag on - it takes two to Tango.

China not only supplies the high rollers, but also unlimited hostesses. Search Youtube for samples. Hong Kong has strict rules for issuing visas from China, and enforces immigration violations. But Macau is too happy to give out work visas to supplement it's tiny local work force out of a total population of less than half a million.

The answer to everything?

The jury has to decide an outcome they are comfortable with. If not they are fired and replaced with a fresh trial.

Politicians craft legislations that they can pass, and make them look good.

Law enforcement, like everybody else, are paid to do something. They like to have enough resources to get things done, or don't bother.

Game Theory was developed to formally analysis situations with winners and losers, and to predict the outcome and equilibrium. GT has been applied successfully to economics where the markets aren't ideal; how about illegal negotiations?

Is it illegal to pick up a $100 bill on the streets? Who cares. It's unlikely someone will find out or you will get prosecuted.

You lock your doors, right? If you don't and you are broken into, your neighbors will think that you are stupid. And if you have valuable jewels or paintings in your home, the insurance company will be very suspicious.

1. Most people do (lock their doors)
2. You protect your valuables
3. What will the others think?

I have a religious friend who was overwhelmed by the new Christian country that he temporarily resides. Most of his friends in similar situations were very happy. It was so easy. They held wild parties often, where everybody got drunk. At the end the guys would decide who should take which remaining drunken body back to their dorm room. My friend recalled the conversations in one such instant. May be it was actually him who asked with disapproval, "what if those are your sisters?". The other guys just laughed, "want to take one?". The righteous guy left.

OK, so no means no. An unconscious person cannot say yes. But the law is one thing, jurors are just ordinary non progressive human beings. And there are the mitigating circumstances. Nobody want to ruin a guy's life because he made a mistake probably drunk. Even a mother juror will think that she raised her daughter well enough for her never to do such vulnerable things. It's more easy for her to convict the victim's parents. Alright, it's my conjecture, but do you know what a juror will think? Certainly, criminals and victims alike, don't put your fate on the jury's hands if you don't have to. [I mean prevention.]

So it is just a game, or at least the theory. The temptation is there. It's not protected. Most likely he's also drunk or half drunk. If he's not, and he thinks he can get away with it, GT dictates that he will do it.

The zero th law of Game Theory is not to enter a game that you don't even know how to play. (I made it up.) Emma Thompson is quite right to urge you to visit your local brothels to see for yourself. But if she actually does, will she be off the mark? This is more like the reality of trafficking(search for Sheffield trafficking). It's rather hard to hide a brothel in, say, a Surrey town, or LA (parts of) for that matter.

She is quite right that looking for suspicious activities at your neighborhood helps. But that brings out the problem of having something legal. In London, you have nothing to complain about if you neighbor has 40 clients a day - it could well be all legal activities. What is the chance of discovering illegal activities in a Sheffield housing project? Who bothers?

In comparison, when too many people pressed the wrong door bells in LA, something must be illegal enough to be reported. It's a simple matter for the police to talk to the johns coming out, threaten them with legal actions unless they confess what they have done. Then the police have enough to deploy decoys and get convictions.

It is urban legend that all prostitutes and johns know where all the other prostitutes are. They don't, but some play into the popular believe unconsciously. The market is not only highly segmented, but compartmentalized into many secretive zones.

According to the CIA, most trafficking victims in the US are from Latin America and South East Asia, with some recently from Central and Eastern Europe. The fact that it's pretty difficult for the general public, john included, to encounter trafficking victims because:
1. people stay away from no go areas, johns or not
2. no advertisement
3. simply a bad deal

From old news, the Latin American "agencies" are well hidden. There are underages but the whole thing are for those with nothing to lose. No normal people will risk going into unfamiliar areas in LA, which can be fatal by itself. If you become a sex offender you will carry the label for life, telling people where you live always and usually lose everything in the process. I bet nobody can find me a South East Asian of interest. There are very few, if any, in the open market. I can't. There were some obviously "Russian agencies" advertising on the major online malls a while back. They stood out from the crowd anyway, advertise or not. And nobody will go there if they don't operate in decent neighborhoods such as West Hollywood, not East, not North. I guess they never took off and disappeared.

I have been disappointed by journalists reporting on trafficking. Last time it was supposed to be an interview with a trafficked victim working in a San Francisco brothel, who got busted. There was this Korean woman who got lured into sex jobs and became a trafficked victim. OK, then the story skipped to the day after she worked enough and got freed from the traffickers. The story began when she decided to work at her free will at a San Francisco massage parlor. She earned enough to repay all her debts and left, getting a $1000 goodwill gift so she would recommend other any girls who need money to come and work there.

Actually the journalist was telling another story without knowing it. SF is a peculiar place where they want to ban the US navy from using the ports, and brothels are virtually legal at some point. The best ones are right on the main roads, decorated like luxury clubs, well, a little. They have rooms as good as decent motels. Any Korean girl who has huge credit card debts knows where to turn to get quick money, be it in Soul, LA, or San Jose. The money for them is good, and it's safe inside. The selection is rather good, indeed there's nothing quite like it in the CJK world, where you pay a lot for privileges of something like an exclusive golf club, while in SF you pay mostly for the girl and sex. There are spinners in sexy skirts, cute student lookalike in jeans, presentable OLs in smart causals, and bikini model lookalikes in bikinis. They don't pay for expensive fixtures, no management teams to handle the girls and clients. You go in and take your pick.

Back to Game Theory. These "agencies" don't easily let the general public in. It's simply too risky. You only need one wrong john who feel guilty enough to report to the police.

It's urban legend that you can do whatever you want to the trafficking victims. I'm sure they suffers but not from average joes. They are treated as objects and goods. Any smart "owners" will protect their investment with care. They lose a lot if their goods are damaged and are taken out of service even for a day or two. No violent sex, no unsafe sex.

Dollar Destinations

Buenos Aires and Club Black are popular hits on my blog. I have been wondering why. Something to do with the dollar? I can think of one other destination for non-Spanish speakers that is great if you hold US dollars, even better if you hold something else.

There are at most a few things that I agree with the global flash packer and now author of a NYT best seller. His favorites cities are San Francisco, Tokyo, Frankfurt and Buenos Aires, in descending order of living expenses. I have to agree, though I haven't been to all of them. But if you are a player like me, you know he's a player too, just looking at his favorites. But I'll add London at the top. And if you like part-timers, UTRs, non-pros and semi-pros, you have to add many other cities in the islands.

The weather is about perfect in BA now. It will get hotter towards December, requiring air conditioning. It's also about perfect in Hong Kong now. It's unbearable hot and humid in summer, and can be chilly later in winter. By the way, the dollar is roughly fixed at 8 HKD, whereas the yen isn't. The RMB is a ticking bomb which could have rocketed if the Chinese let it.

Hong Kong has Club BBOSS, formerly Club Volvo, which was the largest hostess club in the world. Then it became the largest club outside of China. Then one of the largest club in China and the world. The entrance is like a glass doll house complete with fairy tail princesses. You are taken to the lounge area by a replica Royal Royce electric car.

There is the Bottoms Up topless bar, which James Bond appeared in The Man with the Golden Gun. Now the bar relocated to make the movie geologically correct.

25 years go, the director did not have enough money to film Blade Runner in Hong Kong. Now they are really selling high tech toys like junks in the market. They have the best price in iPod (reuters), though the price of land and living expenses isn't far from Tokyo. To get those things you have to walk a little away from the skyscrapers, pass the market, go through narrow stairs and into malls with narrow passage, low ceiling, and tiny shops that couldn't hold all their sale persons. All sorts of electronics are stacking there and hanging there like junks. 24 hour suits are famous but you can order your custom Core 2 Duo PC, get it assembled and tested within the hour, before it's available in US. Not to mention that it's a dumping ground for new Japanese gadgets. If you think people lining up for days to get the iPhone for nothing are not clever, the Asians are worse.

There is the 5th busiest international passenger airport, 1st in Asia. I bet it might be 3rd within a couple of years. The current site is just a couple of years new. By the way, LA has the most non-connecting passengers in the world. So I can see the connection here, a lot of Los Angelians flying to Heathrow or Hong Kong.

There's the world's top call girl site, which used to be consistently in the world's top 100, before whole heartedly closed down by law enforcement. Now the servers are all overseas. Now it's truly bilingual, including reviews and discussions.

You may prefer the IM crowd if you can take a little risk. They may go to movie and dinner with you if they like you, or get stood up in front of the book shop if they don't.

The price is roughly $300 to $3000. At the lower end the price is comparable to BA, but because of the more ideal market, you have more fun. For the price you walk into Club Black and walk out with someone, you can have arguably model materials from all over China a phone call away. By the way, you can have Japanese and Koreans too. You can find other Asians in girlie bars.

However, it will cost you a fortune if you get hooked to the clubs and their hostesses. But I have to agree with Sigmund Fuller and his friends. As I have written in Looks 1,3 &3, your tastes may change depending on your experiences. If you reward a dog a bone or a monkey a banana every time, you can teach them to pick anything.

The player's eco-sex guide

Greenpeace's eco-sex guide is written by amateurs. Let's see what the pro's have to say.

1. Turn off the light

I'm sorry this first GP advice turns you off, so much so that I think very few people know about such a guide existed. In the future, I'm sure there will be some sort of reverse rocking beds to generate electricity while being a cowgirl. Or a micro hydro-electric plant in the form of a water bed. Until then, use energy efficient light bulbs. If you have a shy partner, you have the excuse to use a much brighter bulb. "Oh, I don' t know it can be a lot brighter when the watts are a lot lower." They are great for sex tapes too! The resulting skin tone is more real. They are not as good as studio lights but they save energy and they are portable! They are cool so you can have the equivalence of 120Ws of lighting using ancient fixtures without blacking out the hotel.

2. GE-free passion fruit

Squash are popular produces, but I'm not sure how much are actually eaten. But even if you don't eat them, for whatever reasons, encourage growers by looking for GE-free versions. And in the spirit of producing less waste, after whatever you have done with it, show off your skills by peeling it, sucking it, chewing it and then swallowing it.

3. No more oysters

That's sad. But raw fish will do it for me. Not all wild fish or shellfish are harvested unfriendly to the environment. Alaska salmon, California socket eye salmon are supposed to be well managed in the eco-friendly way. Similarly there are varieties of small oysters from the California coast that comes in limited supplies to restaurants. For the farmed varieties, there's the Norwegian salmon free of color, anti-biotic, etc. I also love Trader Joe's organic steak, almost taste as good as in good steak houses.

4. On the lawn or in the hay

If anybody wants to try it, just let me know. I can use whatever fertilizer you prefer. I can get some hay too. There are no worries on my lawns. Here water is the only fertilizer you ever need. The only pest that survive the dry climate are ants. Moisture will keep them away.

5. Use eco-lubricants

Who can resist a warm wet tongue? Somebody (have to check who) said don't go for the bull eyes all at once. At least, start with the inner tights and they will beg for it. I do one better. I always start with the toes, but then many begged me to stop right there.

6. PVC is out, rubber and leathers is in

Plastic has the advantage that not only it is washable, but you only need to rinse it thoroughly and wipe dry. And because it's cheap, you can dispose of it to dispose of the laundry problem altogether. Otherwise I prefer cotton. It's washable and I like the feel of well washed cotton. To be earth friendly, I think I have to go for organic cotton, reduce skin coverage drastically, and stop giving one for every girl who is willing to wear and keep it. Models always wanted.

7. Save water

Soaping each other up is a great advice from Greenpeace. But often there's little to do with creating passion. Usually girls put a client through a shower first because he smells, and cleaning up together is a way to save time.

8. Sustainable paddles

I mean the sustainable forest where the timber for the paddles come from. But thank you very much, I like my bare hands. I don't enjoy cruelty to animals and anything else.

9. George Bush and Corporate America?

Who want to play that? :-( How about Al Gore and the polar bears? I like the classic Planet of the Alps. I'm be Cornelius hunting for Nova using non-nuclear means, a rock hard chisel perhaps.

10. Make love, not war

That's very ubuntu. But when there's war, make love as if there's no tomorrow! That reminds me to write up something that's long overdue.

Secret lifes

It's good to follow Belle de Jour's TV series without being able to watch it. I couldn't agree more that I wrongly recorded the crappy Moonlight. But TV isn't too bad. Skipping commercials, uninteresting stories, it's about 15 min tops for a one hour news, while download internet news video takes forever, and the online commercials are tortures. Similarly, a one hour show is about 20 min, way better than youtube, and I maybe spending more time on internet craps amongst the useful things.

The call girl I know has many secrets. She wasn't just keeping her secrets from friends and families. There are secrets within the following groups:
1) parents
2) siblings
3) rich boyfriend who doesn't know
4) poor secret boyfriend who knows?
5) friends that her boyfriend approves
6) friends that her boyfriend don't approves
7) boyfriend's family
8) high-end colleagues
9) colleagues
10) sugar daddies
11) johns

For example, 1 help to hide that she is going out with 6 behind 3's back. While all 2's are doing well, help to fix her up with rich bachelors. Both 1 and 2 haven't got a clue what she does, except that her companies, 6, aren't good.

5 are basically first wives club, having not much to do except for taking their babies out for shopping. They think that she has a well paid job, a trust fund, or a gold digger. She likes their lifestyle, but not her future husband, but he's rich, sort of. 5 consists of friends of 3, 2 and 7.

6 are probably her drinking and gambling mates who are not 8, 9, 10 and 11.

7 is very much against her while 3 wants her for some reasons. So 3 keeps her secrets from 7, hiding her from constant scrutiny.

8 consisted of porn stars, print models, internet models or just "relatively" high-end call girls. Not the A-listers, but if you are on a DVD you are a porn star, and if you are on a local Bangladesh edition of Penthouse, you are a print model, and if you have a website, you are an internet model. She followed them to advertise online with face and full body shots, complete with short video clips showing face. It was history but I don't know how she can be so brave, and how she can hide from 1 and 2. They don't know about 9.

8 raced to up their price tags at the last boom, dragging her along, and dragged her along to doubles too. They never made real money. I was never interested in them even though I met some in person. It was interesting to see someone you know personally, being the talk of town when they started out as call girls, getting bad reviews, escort website folded, getting married, having babies, became estate agents, or hanging on to become 9.

Although she did full time escort not for long, she has some friends from 9 that she keeps in touch. Looking at the list you knows why - 9 knows most of her secrets and she can talk to them for anything. She is the girl they look up to, having walk in the clouds with 8, having a rich 3, and having somebody 1, 2 that cares for her, not to mention those 10's. But she doesn't tell them the 8's aren't anymore. That she has 7 trying to bring her down all the time. She has to do well in front of them - her clothes, her shoes and her car from 3. When it looks like 3 was dumping her, what she missed most was her car, while one of the 9's just finished putting his boyfriend through college, got a not enough to repay student loan job, and brought a new Z3 on her money.

The 10's aren't really her sugar daddies. They can be if she wants to leave 3 and 1. I know they exists when she turned up dressed to kill, but obviously not for me. And when I called her, she was on her way to Vegas for the weekend, obviously shouting on the top of her voice in some open top sports car, saying sorry, some other time. So everybody knows she's a hot potato.

As for me, I consider myself 11. I rather not be 10 if I don't have to. It's not just money. There's a whole additional level of jealousy to deal with when you get too personal.

Usually johns know least. In and out, that's it. But I had the misfortune of knowing most, apart from a possible 4, which may never existed, or became history. I don't normally do 8's, like I said, if only porn stars are a little prettier, they could have become first wives. But I fancied her in her circle of 8's. She was bad in bed at first but I didn't give up on her, followed her career to her circle of 9's. At one point I was the last person in the world she wanted to see. I can sleep with the 8's and 9's if I want to. If I just slipped a little in bed, her secrets will leak like a broken dam. I'm sure she is popular when she's doing full time as 9's, so she got a lot of 11's. But she kept in contact with some 10's when she was doing 8's. I have contacts and I know 10's and 11's, even worse, her 10's and 11's. Her 10's and 11's don't know if any other existed. I was her worst nightmare. Not to mention that I was a loyal fan of hers, collecting all her media advertisements that 1,2,3,5,6,7 should never see.

It was quite painful at first, I was jealous of everybody else. Since she advertised on the internet with her face, I didn't know she was living with 1 who doesn't know, and that she has successful 2's who doesn't know. An agent hinted to me that she has 4, not wanting me to attach to her so much as to ignoring all of his other girls.

Either she had to stop seeing me, which she did for a while, or the secrets had to come out. First the thrift store clothes were disguises, she hid her big sedan well even doing outcall, she wasn't a college student or hardly attended courses.

I was very puzzled because of her schedules. Not too early in the mornings, and not too late in the afternoons. Never in the evenings unless pre-approved well in advance, and only sometimes in the weekends. Indeed it would be simpler if she said only call me at lunch and meet me afterwards. And if you have enough money, the weekend is yours. So she didn't have a day job.

I thought she had a night job such as strippers, bikini bars, or some secret clubs similar to those topless clubs in Vegas as seen on TV Las Vegas. If she did, I wanted her to come clean so I could recommend some places for her to work. Obviously she admires those girls who have rich boyfriends or sugar daddies, while working in clubs without sex, touch or even exposing their skins. Easy job, plenty of money, no worries. Or, since she wasn't working that much in the day, I would think she had a night job comparable to a stripper; if the money is good, she will go into the VIP room all the way. I am sure she will be hired for anything, but she really didn't work at night. When I knew that she has 1 and 2 to protect, and to hide from, it was obvious that she rather do something harder with less money, than working out in the open.

My other thought was that she was cheating from 4 or 10. She retired, devoted her time to 4, but came out to play to get some pocket money for things. Or, she was supposed to be exclusive with 10, but she double sell some of her time with me. I wasn't jealous of them as such, as I don't want to be in their shoes. But no matter how much I tried, I didn't seem to get her undivided attention within the hour. Advanced notice, seeing her every week, big tips, gifts, nothing works.

I was real jealous of her other 11's. I seemed to get started at her wrong side and never recovered to be on her right side. She seemed to squeeze me in the most awkward hours, in a period, most of the time not into it. And obviously she got other 11's, meaning that she did better with them, or she would have lost them already. I didn't even think they were paying more than me, a punishment for me, she didn't need just another 11.

When the "truth"of 3 comes out, it made a lot of sense to me. She is supposed to be a good girl living with 1, who sort of watches her for 3, when she is not with 3. 1 knew of 6, but certainly not 8,9,10,11. They try to discourage her from seeing 6 so she will get married eventually. 3 offered marriage, but 3 wants little 3's ASAP. She was in it for the money, not her life, not so soon anyway.

Again I don't want to be in the shoes of 3. But I am jealous that he gets a good deal out of it, if he dumped her eventually. As a decent boyfriend, you don't need to give your girlfriend money in terms of monthly allowance - that's for sugar babies or gold diggers. She has a super duper charge card but you can't get much out of it without looking like a gold digger, immediately thrown out by 7. It's not cash anyway so you can't spend it on something you don't to appear on the statements.

I knew her dilemmas, she slipped now and then. She hanged on too long. She could get 3 back only if she agreed to produce little 3's. She didn't really want to. She said 6 told her that she was too young to be ready for that. But if she didn't win back 3, 1 will be disappointed, she had to continuing living with them that she hated the lack of freedom. 2 can't try to set her up with somebody rich forever. She would have no money and lost her car to look good in front of 5 and 6. She didn't keep in touch with the 8's, leaving them thinking she has a good ending. She would look bad even with the 9's, who kept working, spending and investing wisely. She has nothing to show for.

My advice was that 3 is better than 11. My reason being that money is important to her, and she should take it. Little 3's are no big deal. If you have money, time, and the will, you can get in shape in no time. And that they are taken care of no matter what. A no brainer. But I didn't think of the fact that she can disappear immediately if she followed my advice. I didn't think she would.

If you are hanging on till here, excuse for the confusion. I said I rather not telling the story any further.

Looking sexy 2

A "friend" called me up, saying that an ex-stripper and escort freshly came out of retirement was looking for clients. She was 30's and thin. The price was good, even better, it was for outcall. Best of all, she didn't care what hotels I used.

Obviously she qualified for a stripper. She was still very attractive, tall, but thinner than typical strippers. She was dressed to kill - a tiny teenage dress barely covering anything. She was swinging a tiny matching handbag, just as the other teenage girls. The difference was that the material on her dress seemed more expensive, Tutankhamun blue with gold trimmings. But I knew, she was just trying to fit me into her busy schedule. I gave her little notice. She sensed that I would call someone else instead of making the appointment later.

There wasn't a special as my "friend" told me. I went through with it because he didn't know the market on this side of town. I was expecting some sort GFE from a mature woman. But she just did me a quickie. It seemed that she didn't know the market too. But it was OK. I didn't fancy her after all. She was good looking thin, but too thin and soft to the touch.

But she was happy about me. She hurried up to go, leaving me lying naked on the bed smoking. But before she left, she wanted to introduce me to her 20 year old protégé. Before I asked when, she rushed to open the door and fetched her protégé and driver waiting in the motel parking lot.

These girls were really in a hurry. In seconds they told me about everything, fast and non-stop. The ex-stripper was new in town and had no car. Her protégé followed her around learning to be an escort, volunteered to drive her around. They told me their price, regular discount, and preferred area and motels for outcall.

The introduction was formal though, except that I didn't know what to do so I just laid naked on bed, couldn't even think of something to cover my penis without looking silly. We took time to repeat each other's name and even shook hands. Unlike the stripper, treating me like a kid, her driver was very polite and courteous, soft speaking. I got her number and they left. I never called her because she had too much Brittney Spears influence. She was pretty. She was not at all fat, but a little chubby. Like many teenage girls who are healthy and eat healthily, she has this tiny pouch when she sits down. The problem was, like Brittney and many other girls, she bared about two inches of her waist, making that tiny pouch easily visible. But it could be sexy, just not my thing.

The show stopper was, her Brittney hat!

Once I went for a Black girl based mainly on her good review. There aren't that many gorgeous Black girl in this part of the country. Her picture didn't review anything. But she claimed to be thin, and everybody seemed to agree.

She and her friend's understanding of thin was very different from me. I asked her with some amusement in my voice, "Did you say you are thin?". She defended that, "All my friends say that I am thin." But it's OK. She was shaped more like Beyonce. Wow!

The other black girl that I went for has size zero. It was half a mistake without proper pictures. Usually if I have the choice, I would go for pretty girls with a pretty face, who keeps me from venturing into the darker side. Even if my blind date doesn't turn out to be real pretty, usually they will turn pretty in my john's trance.

But not this girl. She wasn't ugly or scary. But I rather not look at her face making love. We did make love, though. Her dress was sexy, special and sexy, and together with her cum-now shoes, I was horny as hell.

Against all odds, I called her again. I think she worked very hard to compensate. She must have something to do with fashion. The second time I saw her she was wearing a totally different style outfit, but sexy just the same. It was a little black dress, short, with some skins here and there. It was not even skin tight as she was only size 0. The material looked ordinary too. But somehow she made it special by customizing it. Her two different outfits had the same horny effect on me.

It was a moonless night. We met in the parking lot and walked to our classy motel room. Under the parking lot lighting, I couldn't help staring at her sexy dress and her sexy size 0 figure. And of course the cum-already shoes. I held her hand, pulled her back so she had to walk slowly. I stayed a few steps behind to admire her silhouette. Then I twirled her a little, singing in the rain style, trying to show off more of her legs. My hand gently followed her curve, from rips, waist, down to hips and bottom, then onto her bare skin on her legs. I hoped someone at least saw her walking from afar. The further away the view, the less seemed she was wearing. I hope all those who saw her couldn't sleep, with a hard on in their pajamas.

Of course her attitude was great. She had nothing to do with high maintenance. Nobody owed her any money from birth. She wasn't doing everything with a smile. She was just happy to be there, doing it. I asked her, "shower?". She just nodded and then went to the bathroom.

When we were ready to leave together, she asked me if I have moisturizer. She felt very dry after the shower. I happened to have an anti-itch spray in my car. The spray was actually from one of the big moisturizer names, containing mainly effective moisturizers. We went into my car. I showed her the bottle. She nodded and approved. But instead of giving it to her, I sprayed it on my hands, then rubbed her legs, tights, and then down to her ankles. Then I let her go.

Looking sexy

I once met an older woman, who is very competitive about her looks. She wore a sexy Alley McBeal style suit, not any less sexy than younger women. And of course she's wearing one of those elegant, cum now shoes. She must had worked hard to keep her body in shape, without looking muscular. She has stylish, healthy and simple hair, the kind that you can't easily add extension to it. She went for deep tan rather than showing any signs of weakness. She doesn't make any compromises on her looks because of her age. She is full of confident. She is beautiful, but being a man, I was overwhelmed by her sexiness rather than noticing her detailed facial features.

We frolicked on the crouch with her jacket off. Her breast was enhanced so a lot of aging was taken care of. Her waist is small, her legs were still very nice to the touch. The tension in my pants was too much. I lifted her up, put her sitting on a dinning table, stood between her legs, and dropped my pants. Then we were eye to eye, when I noticed her wrinkles at her eye corners. Her skin wasn't anything like loose; she must had spent a lot on creams and facials. Looking at the wrinkles at close range, I found them so sexy that I kissed on them.

Whatever I did, she was cheering me on half heartedly, and dropped some dirty words in between. Anymore than that I would cum. And if she allowed me, I would have wet her legs, skirt and panties, standing right there.

I used the term older woman only because she has wrinkles, but I don't. She is more like my age, or even younger.

Though we had fun, she introduced me to her 19 year old protégé. I never feel too good about being passed around, I feel being screened, I feel I'm an easy client that the newbies can handle with ease. It seemed like the older one had no time for me, didn't want to invest her time with younger men who didn't seem to have a deep pocket. The younger one must had learned a thing or two about sexiness. She is in good shape, more refined shape than average 19 year olds, but I wasn't too keen on her tattoos. I switched back to the older one, then back to the younger one, then couldn't decide every time who I was going to see.

The epic?

Have you heard about the kind of story that a city falls, only for two strangers to meet, fall in love, and immortalize each other? This is bigger.

But, I never think it is anything to do with love. She was so "popular" that I never thought I could stand the thought of anything remotely like that. The other day I looked at some old pictures of her from her old advertisement. I remembered once she made over very elegantly when she arrived. She was going for a job "interview" afterward. She was in a talkative mood, or maybe it was me who liked to talk then. We talked about a lot of things, and I was rubbing her all over before taking off her clothes. And after sex, while we were cuddling, I was still rubbing her back. All the while we talked and talked. Until she said she has to go. For once I looked at my watch. It was exactly one hour since she knocked at the door. That clock watcher! I had no illusions about her for anything, not even treating me as a harmless friend.

The important thing is that she was close, our schedule matched and I enjoyed her more than others for that sort of barely affordable regular expenses.

Today she picked up the phone after not doing it for a year. I'm not sure if I used my old number she would still pick it up. We talked a little because I tried not to force more lies. She had answer to everything and made 100% sense. But then you will get 200% more questions. The important thing is that - she will be back!

If that's true, maybe it took a bankrupted world to bring us back together. Or I should say bringing her back. But it may be the last time I can mention her again. I have a good track record of not leaking any identifiable personal information. And to my old readers, you don't know where I'm based.

Stand by your woman

College Callgirl’s Top Ten Tips to Get Him to Hurry the Hell Up and Cum Already

I'm sure it works using extra stimulation in vision, sound, touch and the mind. But I didn't remember any girl who stood up for me. However, my favorite positions are the standing up variations.

Be it missionary or doggy, they have to be done with the woman right at the edge of the bed, part dangling off the bed. And since beds are of different height, fine adjustments are necessary. It's almost like operating a big gun. You adjust everything one at a time, and test fire each time, until everything is perfect.

I like my two feet firming standing on the ground. But with only one feet on the ground, both can shift some body weight on the bed, and less like making a porn movie.

I don't like to do it on first dates. When you get right out of bed, she will be alarmed. Imagine that without explanation, you drag her two feet, turn her body sideways, until her pussy is about right at the edge. Or for doggy, adjust the spread of her legs until her butt is within a millimeter of the optimum height. Some will be afraid of excessive force, while some will be disappointed a little.

Looks 3

The taller and bigger girls I referred to can be described as Hooters Girls, or mainstream strippers as seen on screen savers. (Not to be confused with big as in BBW's.) Once in a respectable, big trade show in Manchester, there was a booth called Personal Services. There were a few blond Hooter type girls in there, wearing tight short shorts and tight short T-shirts, waiting to be booked when you finished with the show. They would be a head taller than the average Japanese visitors.

Once in a while you can see a tall model in a Hampton Court flower show. Her companion may be athletic but dressed more like a plumber. It must be his mates fixing him up with an escort that he dreamed about, for his birthday present. The give away is that her short dress is elegant but semi transparent. On closer look she looks more like a Hooter girl, meatier than catwalk models. In local terms, there are great mismatch about them and she is the obviously the taller one.

Once I saw a CFO type carrying his companion for weekend getaways. It was a well hidden part of Wales. The restaurant is well known, small, dark, discreet. There are exotic drinks to go with every course, including desert, if you can manage. Both are dressed up for dinner, he in an expensive suit for work, she in a sexy and elegant dress. She is obviously taller sitting down. They have two few words for having a secret affair. A wife may be but she didn't act like a trophy wife. He's 50 versus her 20. A sugar daddy may be but most likely an escort for the night. I wasn't drooling over her but I was thinking to get my hand on one of these. Looking back, it could be easy. He might be too happy to swap with my small girl that I brought. Though my girl would think otherwise.

With beginner's luck, I did run into a beautiful stripper type girl for cheap. I couldn't resist to try the telephone booth thing when I was in London. It was not the typical booth in typical locations. It was quite clean with few cards inside if any. There was a hand written note on folded A4 paper, with a large phone number and perhaps the name of the girl. The incall place wasn't nearby. The place fits the description of a Mayfair flat for expensive call girls. But rather than a flat, it was the basement level of a nice town house. She was tall and beautiful and very blond. The place looked blend new, fully furnished. I needed to go to the bathroom and noticed the spotlessly clean big bathtub with gold trimmings. I was so naive as to ask the girl if I can play with her in the beautiful tub. She declined politely by saying that the plumbing wasn't working. I believed her and didn't think twice. The sex wasn't memorable. I was nervous and excited. And for the price it had to be a quickie. She looked like an agency girl, the flat looked like a luxury flat for agency incalls. But they could finish off some telephone booth punters in between agency clients.

Once I was fully prepared to get what I wanted, with enough time and money. I took the train instead so I could have more time. But everything seemed to go wrong. I arrived late after 9 pm. I didn't have familiar agencies to rely on. For the few numbers that I grabbed from the Internet, some didn't have people to pick up the phone. Some didn't do incalls. I called this agency with just a number, a name but no descriptions. A guy picked up the phone. He routinely asked what I prefer. I was on autopilot and said something like 18, blond hair, blue eyes, voluptuous, hoping that I finally used the right code. Actually I didn't have much preference except the last one, but I hoped to screen out the weak agencies fast so I could call others right away.

After a short while he said "she would do it", and told me the girl will call me back. It wasn't promising as I was expecting that he would say, "I have this 23 year old blond girl...", or some other counter suggestions. Also, the price wasn't first class, which didn't help his credibility. But at this point, I was horny and just wanted to cut my losses. So the money saved would help. I talked with the girl briefly. She pretended to be something other than herself. Maybe she just tried to be everything to everybody. But I didn't know what to make of it. Even worse, her incall was in a seedy part of town. So I was prepared to walk away if she looked like a telephone booth girl rather than an agency girl.

A pale skinny drug addict opened the door. Obviously she wasn't the maid so I was turning my body to get away. But then I understood that the split second impression was a mistake. I was happily surprised and I was too happy to get in.

Her hair is light blond rather than peroxide blond. Not a lot of girls dye their hairs. It's an uncommon, tasteful but bold color, or she has Scandinavian ancestry. She has a trendy designer blob. Her eyes are blue, very blue. I don't think color contact lens were on the local market at the time. And I don't think she would be that active later when she had some lens on her eyes. She was ghostly pale with a geisha makeup to cover up her eye circles. But I was wrong. Her face skin color matches her legs, and everywhere else. There were little makeup on her except for her red lips. She wasn't anything that I asked for, but I couldn't be happier.

She is skinny but certainly not underweight. Indeed she has a very healthy tight body that model thin girls often do not have. She looked small but she isn't that small at 5'5, and her long limbs made her looked skinner than she is. The problem is that she was wearing a pinstripe skirt, probably from M&S, to make her look more mature and elegant. Her waist and butt lost a little in it. Also, with my current expertise, I know she was hiding her expensive taste in clothes, and didn't want to mess them up.

Her flat was bad, because she actually lived in it. It was small and not very tidy. And she had a lot of things in it, like expensive sound equipment and TV. She also had a bicycle by her bed. Everything showed that she was pretty new.

She called the agency but nobody answered. She was pissed off as nobody would be looking out for her. I didn't think she was scared of me physically but she was very puzzled. It was late. I was wearing a causal dark suit, too causal for work. But I did wear it to work. I had the latest cell phone with a very expensive phone number if you need to buy it. It happened that the shop was almost folding, begged the carrier for a good number for me so I would send a bunch of friends to them. It folded weeks after selling me the phone anyway. I think she was curious and cautious after getting my number earlier. She couldn't help and asked me "Who are you?" at some point during the conversation in her flat. It wasn't like "what do you do for a living?", that I could answer. I was speechless. She must had thought I had some secrets.

This girl took her time, I never seen anything like this. I couldn't wait to open the package to see what's inside. But she seemed rather successful to keep me sitting where I was. She went into the kitchen to boil some water with a kettle and made tea for two, big mugs. I was too polite not to enjoy her tea and jump on her. Thinking she was new, I didn't want to scare her a bit. She rolled a joint and shared it with me.

She talked a lot and she's a straight talker with a girlie voice. That's why she pretended to have a deeper sexy mature voice on the phone earlier. She told me she had a bisexual boyfriend who often left her alone and went out to play himself. Maybe she just told me the truth for nothing. Maybe she wanted me to know there's someone to look over her, she's attached but she could also have fun with other people.

She was so refreshing that I asked her how could she manage to go to hotels for outcalls? You know all hotel staffs play spot the hookers. She must be a sensation doing outcall like that. As I have mentioned, I went to Thailand once and my cute Thai girl hardly survives the stare from all the hotel staffs, "leave my man alone" stare from female staffs, and "I will sell my daughter for you" stare from male staffs, even though all Thai hotels are hooker friendly. So much so that she refused to leave alone and hide behind me getting out. This girl Tami is triple that sensation. But her answer is simple, "the other guests have daughters!". Silly me, that must be her disguise. But I wouldn't want to take her out for dinner.

We were still sitting on opposite sides of the coffee table when we heard the policemen's walkie talkie beeping noise outside the door. Her door was not right on the street but not far away. I then understood everything. It must be some scam to shake money out of me, which explains she taking her time. But nothing happened. Then I thought it must be her boyfriend, their plan to warn me that policemen do patrol the seedy area very often. I knew. So it could also be a real policemen walking pass the street.

The fun started when she jumped on me with clothes on. A second earlier I was talking with her, and I was still sitting on the exact same spot. She attacked me like no others. She wrapped her long legs around me, even I was sitting on the sofa. She held me real hard, indeed my hand had trouble doing anything. She sucked me hard, not leaving me breathless, but I struggled to leave some space between my nose and her nose, so I could breath. At this point I was thinking, "what was she smoking?". But since we smoked the same joint, and I was calm and composed, she must had a crush on me. Indeed, she was crushing me.

Since she was sticking onto me like velco, I thought of carrying her around. I thought of doing it on the kitchen sink but too far. I put her on a dresser instead. But furniture sex is a gimmick on movies. It's really bad unless it's custom dimensioned. So we did it on the bed. She wasn't holding back on me. She didn't mind at all to be manipulated into different positions. But I didn't know much. And if I knew what a spinner was, I would have sprung her around - she's the real spinner.

But suddenly she was frozen. It must be something that I did wrong at her back. I climbed over her carefully to see her face. She was conscious but speechless, holding her head. "What was she smoking?", again I though. If she opened her mouth a few second later I would have called the ambulance. She was frozen because she bumped her head on the bicycle handle beside the bed. There was no harm done, and told me to carry on bonking her hard.

I had the cigarette after, back on the sofa. I had my dark suit back on but not ready to go. I told her I need to recuperate a while before I could manage to walk back to the tube and then train station. I was exhausted alright, but I must had looked a little sad to her. She thought I wasn't satisfied. But I assured her that I was very happy, just tiny frustrated about things I didn't manage to do on her, such as furniture sex.

I knew she was new and tried everything to get some regulars. She wouldn't mind a bit about tips, but still I offered her tips as a token of appreciation. But I told her that was my last twenty, and I need some change to take the train back home. I must have some cash somewhere because she was cheaper than I expected. But I wasn't thinking, or "what was I smoking?". Now she was sure I liked her. And she wrapped her arms around my neck, and gave me a lingering kiss.

From then on, I downsized. Or, I didn't have preference on size anymore.

Looks 2

Somehow I ended up with another shortie. She is the bomb. Short doesn't mean that she is standard weight but sub standard height. Again she is slim with good proportions. But vocabs are a mine field to me. Time and time again, on the safe side I would ask for slim girls, but the boss didn't understand or pretended not to. Then I would say "Thin?". Again no response. Then he/she will counter "Oh, small?". Then I had to nod to keep things going. Then may be I'll get some small and fat ones, some small and rounded ones, other times small and slim or skinny ones. In other places for other people, small really means slim, which could still be tall.

When she went shopping, in Miss Selfridge, Benetton, or BeBe types, the other shoppers had to find the chance to tell her with admiration that "you are so lucky, you can fit in anything!". Women often complain that clothes in the high street are only designed for teenagers. It is these women, far from overweight, who shop like scavengers to find anything they can fit, in some labels that they feel proud.

We went up the Eiffel Tower in a crowded lift, she all wrapped up in a thick rounded woolen coat like a ball. I knew everybody was checking her out. Even a girl was hitting on her to get her to do a double date together or something. Two guys a few feet behind us were talking gently in some language that nobody understood, except us. The two guys knew we understood them, or they didn't. Obviously drooling at my bomb, he was telling the other guy to find him quality call girls after showing him around. He said something like was #300 good enough. After careful consideration, his friend/guide said can do. It was supposed to be a challenge. It's increasing hard to find somebody worth the money if you keep increasing the price tag. And if you have no experience with higher end agencies and independents, you will not and cannot make recommendations to your friend.

After some silence, while the whole lift is full of people, the john said, "how about #500?". Now the guide was scratching his head, after some dead silence, he reluctantly said yes. Now it sounded to me that he wasn't just wanting some quality call girls, he wanted a call girls "just like that". Though he didn't say it. I think he wished that we understood what he said. Because he was trying to make an indecent proposal. In the hope that my bomb would turn around and at least notice him. Even better, that my bomb was actually a call girl, said goodbye to me and then went with him.

We didn't know what to make of it so we pretend not to understand, the easy way out. I had nothing to hold against him anyway. But I found it amusing. Then before the lift reached the top, the john said, "how about #1000?". The guide had to admit defeat and said he had to consult somebody else. I could feel the john's frustration in the air. I think he dreamed that my bomb would turn around and said, "take me, take me". Now he could only watch us leave the lift.

Parisian restaurants are very competitive. At the major junction outside of a Gare, there can be 20 restaurants side to side. We were checking out all the posted menus to find an enjoyable meal without costing our arms and legs. Do did many other tourists and travelers. It was early so the restaurants were pretty empty while there were plenty of lookers, mostly clueless.

We picked one mainly because of the price of the set dinner. The woman boss came to us herself and put us in the middle under the chandeliers, so we could be seen clearly on most of the windows. She was very attentive to make everything picture perfect. When we were puzzled about what weapon to use to finish off each mussel completely (oh yes, we were cheap), she came out from nowhere and taught us to use a technique with bare hands.

In return we laughed a little bit more, showed off a little more "a young couple in love in Paris" image, complete with dirty fingers. Soon after the starter, the restaurant was full. Of course it was the usual tourist protocol. When the food or service is bad you don't give out wrong signals to the other tourists. But it was more. She is a rather good appetizer even when you can only see her sitting down. And then there's the radiating atmosphere. You can double, triple and multiple date without being on the same table talking to each other. Or you can just absorb the atmosphere and refresh your own memories. When we left, the boss found time to come out and said goodbye. We tried to communicate that she didn't need to thank us too much. We understood her gratitude even when we didn't understand the language. We are used to the picture perfect treatment all over.

18, 800 Hr, 1Q, kiss, no blow

"Wooop", my Undead Messenger wakes up again. The one inch pop-up reads: 18, 800 Hr, 1Q, kiss, no blow. This means one of my contact just signed in on her MSN Messenger, the popular IM of the trade over there.

I have been receiving a few of these alerts every week since my vacation in Summer. Since then I killed all the IM's, but this one refuse to die. It must be the messenger that comes with XP, which I used briefly before I upgraded to Windows Live Messenger. I should know how to kill it stone dead, but the alerts bring back good memories, a few a week isn't too bad.

The one line profile means 18 years old. The compensation for the one hour friendship is $800. This is not the original figure, not the local currency, not the amount actually charged. I adjusted the figure to feel like an LA girl asking me for US $800. 1Q means not a buffet. You can kiss her but she doesn't do blow jobs. Of course that's not LA and so it's much more affordable to me.

They are more expensive than the most expensive girls on local Internet directories. Of course there are always more expensive girls, but that's a usual top limit on the listings. Many guys go for these plain girl next door types instead of model looking ones on the Internet. Maybe dating non-pros make them feel less like johns. The girls are young, which is always a safe bet. BTW, Chevalier take note, I would say that the numbers of attractive girls drop rapidly with age. So attractive 30 to 40 year olds are more expensive. Over there you can find some in high end clubs which charges you way over the non-pro rate which is in turn more than the top listings on the local Internet call girl directories which must be the comma drinking too much Charles Shaw Cabernet

Typically these girls fire up their computer late night, after they return from parties, or waited for their siblings to disappear in bed. They put up brief posts on the most popular message boards and leave their IM addresses.

Many girls don't show you any pictures. Some have one or a few stamp sized pictures to go with the IM. After some IM exchanges, if you are willing to take the risk, you will get a cell number and setup the meeting place. There's not much to go on because there's always too many guys for them to handle, like throwing a piece of bread into a pool of hungry ducks.

The meeting is usually at not too busy underground stations, or in front of book stores. You call the girl to identify yourself, who is nearby and can see you. If you pass her criteria, she will come over to greet you. If you like her you take her to a 4 star like hotel that have two hour rates, complimentary condoms. If not, just say goodbye. You know in advance if you need to pay her the 'taxi' fee. The hottest girls don't charge 'taxi' fees because they are seldom rejected.

When they are rejected or when they are done, they will go to Starbuck and fire up their IMs that come with every phone, to see if there's anybody else to hook up.

Looks

Gillette had some posts about looks. I wanted to add that one's preference on the looks of the opposite sex (or same) changes over time, though someone must have commented on that. George Clooney versus the Supernatural stars is a big give away on the stage of your life journey.

My theory is that at the beginning of your life cycle, you are most affected by others and society, which in turn is very much affected by genetics. Then it's the self discovery phrase. I have the opportunity to see lineups of attractive women, and slept with women all over. When you are in such a totally liberated state, when nobody else know what you pick, when nothing matters after the deal is done, my pickings surprise myself sometimes. So I end up knowing what I think I prefer isn't very right, and understanding why I always end up with something else. Ok, back to the theory. When it's time to reproduce, genetics again takes over. In Gillette's comments you can find a lot of references to babies. But then are the preference in looks at this stage of life the same as the goal of making big beautiful babies?

In the beginning I like tall women, curvy with meat but not fat. I would think that is very typical. I think surveys after surveys on men show that model thin girls are not as sexy. They have the advantage when wearing clothes. Cute tight shirts and short skirts looks a lot sexier with meat bursting out the seams. I would call them big as compared to smaller girls but I learned never to use the word again when ordering.

I was immature for my age so I didn't get the bigger girls, though they couldn't wait for me to grow up :-) I held out rather than getting anything available to ruin my reputation. As the guys with girl friends seldom show up on social occasions, my circle of friends got younger and younger. Guys always hide their little sisters from me, but their girl friends don't.

I ended up with a small girl, the less than 5'3 sort. She was still too young to wear makeup, but her sister put some on her to show off sometimes. Once I was left alone with her wearing a basketball vest and a volleyball short in my apartment. She is small but everything is in good proportion. She is beautiful. She has the theory that small girls has to be much more beautiful in order to be noticed. She was so cute that I couldn't help taking her out as a playmate, to Seaworld and Disneyland that sort of thing. But very soon, after the 2nd date?, we were making out all the time. I wanted to keep my hands off her but she was like a magnet to me. All the time I was thinking how do I dump her and get out of the situation.

Going out with her was a sensation, sort of. In restaurants we would get VIP service. She is attractive alright. But if she goes out with family or friends, she wouldn't get so much attention. She is so cute and she is probably on a date. Boy waiters come near us often to find out. Men waiters come near often to watch out for her, might be to stop me from doing something indecent on her. I think there are some male fantasy and jealousy in it.

When we were in a water theme park, a little boy, barely 40" high, kept following right after her at lineups. I didn't know I should be proud or beat him up. But anyway, I was so horny myself. She is small, tits are not big at all, looks slim, but she got some meat on the right places, and a killer waist. Her one piece swim team swim suit showed it all. I couldn't wait and pulled her into a pool corner, hidden by a water fountain at waist height, and made out. I was kneeling down in the water, holding her floating, as in space. In the bus, a group of small boys, her size, kept checking her out from beside our seat and behind. I think they have mixed feeling, hoping that she wasn't on a date, but she was so delicious that who else could I be? They became restless and annoying so I put my arm around her shoulder, held her waist with my other hand, and almost lifted her legs on top of mine. They were like just lost a ball game and laid flat on their seat.

Her sister wasn't worrying, neither were her parents. But before I took her to my apartment when my parents were out, we liked to break in a local high school after dark, and made out. Then I took her back to her home nearby.

I should be proud but I was ashamed to be seen with her in public. I wished she was taller. Maybe we didn't look like a couple - I wasn't 5'5. And maybe I should find someone of my age. I had a teenage TV model chasing after me. She had great legs, told us she did a TV ad for jeans for a second or two, without showing her face. Maybe she wasn't beautiful enough but I found her attractive always wearing makeup. But I felt like her little brother beside her. I had a female friend's little sister crazy for me. She is a lot taller at 5'6? She got the perfect body and went on to teach aerobics class when she was at college. She was real jealous of this little girlfriend of mine that she met many times. She is just a few inches taller, a year or two older, face is her weak part but I found her rather cute. She didn't know why that small girl got all my attentions. Neither did I.

Later I learned something about myself when I paid and picked women that I desired over a large pool of different sizes, shapes, and ages.

They are always on my mind

Her feet that is. I couldn't see her again the next day, so I went again the day after that. She is short sighted. I looked familiar to her at the door. So she looked very hard at me when I walked all the way into the room, with her short sighted eyes. She was killing me with her sexy eyes, becoming thin narrow lines.

Her boobs could be fake. The local plastic surgeons must be as good as the Korean ones, samples can be seen all over LA. If you go for a cone shaped B/C cup, it's really hard to tell. I suspected because her nipples are quite neat and sensitive.

After she washed me thoroughly, I washed her boobs, pussy, and all ten toes. She wouldn't kiss, no matter how I tempted her (with money). I could kiss her face, but the ears are too sensitive. She felt very uneasy when I kissed her breasts too. When I went down on her feet, I told her not to watch. She put a pillow on her face.

Her toes aren't perfect, 8/10. All natural, neat, but you have to look at mine. When I was younger, many girls will die for my long legs. When I noticed my toes in recent years, I think they are in the same sort of 'golden' proportion as in some sort of bio geometry.

Her feet are 9.5/10. Small for her size, soft skin all round. The best thing is: she didn't move a muscle when I sucked, bite, and licked. I really tested her tolerance. But then, she might be biting hard on the pillow where I couldn't see.

I went down on her, DATY, while she twisted and turned in bed all the way, until she couldn't take it no more. She wasn't that excited or orgasmic: it was ticklish if you are not used to it. She was also afraid to show the natural reaction of her body. But it was fun all the same.

Then it was her turn to blow me. Last time she had a pony tail. Before I saw her this time, I was thinking whether to take her pony tail off so she would look exactly like her pictures. But then with her long hair, I wouldn't see her face while blowing. It was a hard choice. However, I shouldn't worry. I woke her up so she didn't have a pony tail on. With her long fine hair, she had difficulty blowing me without her hair getting in the way. So I collected her hair like a pony tail at the side, and held her hair while she was working hard. Things sometimes turn out perfectly.

She told me that was her last day in town. So I performed all the positions that I didn't last time. I stood on the ground with her at the edge of the bed. It was a missionary with her feet on my shoulders. I enjoyed 'kissing' her feet while penetrating at the same time. But it wasn't for long. The bed was too low, I wasn't standing straight, and so I kept slipping on the floor.

Then I went for my favorite, the spoon. She has very nice skin, so nice that she got allergic reaction on some not small areas. I got similar allergic reaction before so I wasn't put off. At that position I can smell her perfect long hair, kiss and bite her ears, neck, shoulder blade, back, and anywhere I could reach. I was grabbing at least one of her breast all the time. My other hand would massage her legs, pull her feet, and finger her clit from the front.

Good things had to end. This was her last day. I waked her up at 1 pm to see her. When we said goodbye, she smiled sweetly, which was rare for her, and said she was going to have a nice sleep.

It's getting harder and harder ...

to cum. So I resort to pretty faces, and care less what they do. It's only US $75, half that of local girls. I can cum looking at her eyes half closed, her thin lips licking lollipop, sucking me, or moaning.

She has a pair of perfect small cone shaped breasts. She felt ticklish when I licked them, or she was defending them like gold dusts. She has perfect feet and toes, at only 18. I think she rarely wear shoes back home. Unlike her breast, she didn't feel ticklish when I attacked her toes. I was so into it that I was a bit shy. I told her to turn around so she couldn't see. But she covered her eyes with her hand instead.

See you all at SAA

1. Have your needs driven you to have sex in places or situations or with people you would not normally choose?
2. Do you find yourself looking for sexually arousing articles or scenes in newspapers, magazines, or other media?

I'm sure 99.9% of people answers yes to both questions. (If you get less than two yes's, there are a lot more questions to make the numbers.) You are a potential sex addict and SAA advices you to attend their meetings to find out more.

"The essence of all addiction is the addicts' experience of powerlessness over a compulsive behavior, resulting in their lives becoming unmanageable." That would rule out smoking as an addiction.

I would say unmanageable include spending too much time, energy and money on the addiction. How much is too much? Life is about trade-offs. If you can still work productively and feed all your vices, I think that's not too bad.

A lot of emphasis is on masturbation and pornography. I doubt that's more severe than 2 coffee a day addiction. Both are free or almost free. I don't think you can spend too much time on the former, or else you are lucky. And if you spend a couple of hours on porn every day, you are still spending less than a lot of people on watching TV. These are very easy to cure. See some call girls.

Call girl addiction is expensive, perhaps next to drugs. However, I don't see that a call girl addict will do anything silly as a drug addict when he doesn't have the money. Yes, perhaps he is likely to spend all his savings, or living from pay check to pay check. But without money, I think he would probably masturbate.

So arguably, sex isn't that addictive. You can manage.

But sex is never about just the sex.

I vaguely remember reading a blog article about a guy named Diamond John, who was in his 50's, found dead by his roommate. He was said to have contributed a lot to the "community". My immediate reaction, brainless I would say, was that he is lonely, addicted to human touch rather than sex. Sex could be less than 50%, even much less.

To some the addiction is the affection I guess. Some use sex to exchange for it, typically women. Some buy it, typically men. I can understand some johns step out to endorse and defend not so attractive ladies. These guys for various reason that I wouldn't want to elaborate, cannot get convincing GFE from call girls in general.

Romance is similar. Try to be ultra romantic to a civilian all of a sudden. She would get the wrong ideas. Your girlfriend would be expecting a proposal, or dump you. Your wife would think you just cheated, or you want her ass. Call girls understand, it's a fantasy of the moment.

Then there is the power. Somebody ask you to simulate the shuttle re-entrance, but the conclusion must be safe. You get the blame. That's how things work. For a relatively minute amount of money you get somebody to screw. It's therapeutic. It's addictive. Unmanageable? No. Unless it's rape. Most don't rape.

Perhaps it's no more than girls play dolls, guys get their hands on dolls without other boys laughing. It's expensive toys but it's worth it.

I remembered some escorts worrying about the finances of their clients. I wouldn't worry too much about it. Since the beginning of time people lost a lot for love or the other sex, not call girls but well, it's temporary love too. Through ancient or modern history, successful courtesans make guys lost everything. Let them hand in their last dime for your time with a smile. But don't pick on the wrong guys. The right guys will not blame you. Just make it worth every of their penny.

My vacation

19, ~USD120. Eastern European import price, but doesn't look like it. Her legs will beat all local girls standing shoulder to shoulder. There are a few of these, even prettier sometimes, but the market for them isn't great. Very tempting. I kept telling myself I'm not here for European girls. But she isn't standing up. I suppose her tummy isn't too great. The deciding factor is that she covered her toes - she doesn't take care of herself from head to toe.

19 (claimed), maybe slightly older that suits her style. Import on short visa. Normally ~USD 90 but she charged ~120. Looked like TV stars. But she didn't show much and there's nothing else to fall back on. The worst case is that she has short legs, slightly curved, and turnoff toes.

19, most expensive type local girls starting at USD 150, some doesn't include room, at $40 for 3*+ hotels for 2 hours. I like the delicate look, including her legs and toes. Waist line is seldom the problem and she showed it too. As for the face, I can't wait to let her in when she knocked my door.

That's all for the moment. I am very busy, often doing it days in a row. I'm not quitting any time soon.