Bitchicisms

Still tired and sore from my Friday escapade. Damn.

There's just something innately satisying about having good sex. It's better than getting shitfaced drunk, better than being happy on doobie, better than eating a couple of thousand calories worth of sinfully rich chocolate cake. It's just satisfying in a deep emotional and physical way.

It's difficult to explain to people who have never been fucked properly. Sad little boys and girls who have not yet learned to shed the socio-political and cultural stains on sex. Or girls and boys who just have no game.

A couple of years back, when my friend A was still in the country, we discussed our plans for the future. Then I was still working as a CSR, and I had become despondent about the future of my dreams.

I had jokingly mentioned an old fantasy of being a whore, an escort, someone who got paid to have sex. A innocently asked, why not?

A concern was, that I wanted to be able to choose my customers. I wasn't willing to sleep with every old bastard for the money. The thing is, hot guys almost never pay for sex.

Another problem, as related to O last Friday, was that men think they can do anything if they pay for it. I mean, even now, when I am not getting paid (doing it for the love in other words), some men still think they can do whatever they want. Sometimes with good, often with bad results.

So yeah, make me your whore, your dirty slut. But you have to follow the rules. Like N found out the hard way, being nasty won't get you any repeats.