A little bit of honesty here in how I choose to run my business. Please notice how I say “how I choose”. I am not going to say this is the norm, that all ladies in the industry choose to do business as I do. But for me, who I am and what I am comfortable with it can only work the way I do things. So, to set the record straight and not leave any room for surprises, here are a few “Please do and please don’ts”.
1) Do email to say “Hi”. Introduce yourself, say how you found my name. Tell me why you would like to see me, or comment on if we have met before. Anything, just be casual and respectful.
2) Don’t let your first email correspondence with me (or any correspondence for that matter) be vulgar and request intimate service details. I can tell you right now I will not respond. And when I don’t respond, I hope you are angered. You tainted my day, I hope to taint yours.
3) Do call when you have your hotel and room info. If I do not answer, which I can almost guarantee I won’t, please leave a voice mail. Don’t be afraid of the beep! Some say they will not get a room unless I answer my phone as they are afraid of getting stood up. Then I say, please don’t see me because I cannot guarantee to answer my phone so why waste my time or yours? How is it you can trust me enough to see me but not enough to show up when I say I will be there? I have worked hard for my good reputation in this business. I sure didn’t get it by not showing up!
4) Don’t expect me to chat about sex prior to meeting you, or after for that matter. Yes, I enjoy sex. But it is not my life and does not impress me at all that it seems it is all you can relate to me with. I don’t answer my phone for this very reason. I have no will to sit and chat about the things we will do together when we get together. If you have a certain request or an honest question then email it to me and please do so respectfully. I have no problem with that but there is a certain way to handle these things, me listening to you breathing heavily into the phone as you get yourself off is not my thing. Leave that part to me…when we meet.
5) Do your research. I have utilized every avenue possible to make it clear of what an experience with me may be like. I have my website, my blog, 4 review boards and 2 emails. The information is out there for you to use to decide if you think you may enjoy spending time with me or not. I am bluntly honest about my description and my boundaries. Take a little time to find these things out so you are not let down when I show up without the whips and chains.
6) Don’t expect me to do coffee, breakfast, lunch, dinner or walks in the park with you prior to or after meeting. My time is very limited. I justify my time away from my family and home duties by getting paid for that time. I have a full time job outside of escorting, 4 children at home and one with a disability. My life is busy and demanding. I do not have room in my life for dating nor do I have the want in my life to date. Please do not be offended when I turn these requests down, I don’t have time to do these things with friends in my personal life let alone Belle’s life.
7) Do call to set up an appointment if you have no access to email and it is a last resort. But please be specific and understand that discretion is very important to me. So if you do not leave a time to call you back, a number to call you at, your name and specify exactly what it is you are looking for I will not return your call. I will not return a call if I do not know who to ask for. I will not return a call (even if the number is on my display screen) unless you give me express permission to do so. A simple “Hi, Belle, call me” will not do. Tell me what day and time your were hoping to see me. I will not discuss services whatsoever. I will simply discuss my schedule briefly. And as my voicemail states, it may take awhile to get back to you. I may have appointments throughout the day or family obligations. My cell is strictly for business. When I am unable to take business calls my phone is off and usually sitting on my desk at home which can sometimes be most of the day.
8) Don’t expect me to take same day appointments. This is seldom possible for me. I do not sit around my house waiting for business to come in. I get many emails asking me if I am available on Friday for example. I respond with a yes and the times I am available. The gents says he is thinking about 2 pm but will let me know. Then Friday comes, he calls me at 1 to say he has a room. He is then upset with me because I told him I was available but did not answer my phone at 1. Please keep in mind, if you inquire about a day and time and I respond that I am available, that means that at the time I responded I was available. That does not mean that 2 days later that time is still available. I do not put times aside because someone has inquired about them. I will post a note in my calendar for that time but if I get a concrete booking and have not heard back from you I will take the latter. Come the day prior, if you and I have not confirmed the appointment, I will assume there is no appointment.
9) Do know that I love what I do. I have a lot of fun and so can you if you just please respect my wishes. While neither of us cares to look at this as a financial arrangement, a cold business transaction the reality is that it is business. If we can get this stuff out of the way and have a mutual understanding prior to meeting, it will make our time together less awkward and much more enjoyable for the both of us.
10) Don’t be offended by what I have written. I hope that by saying here the things that need to be said it will avoid awkward one on one moments for both of us. Please understand that I do my best to be relaxed going into an appointment. It is very hard for me to do that when you answer the door and start drilling me about what I will and will not do, my rates, or mention having coffee after. It is putting me in a very awkward position. I don’t like to have to say, “Sorry Hun but I have another appointment after this one”, or “Sorry, but my kids have soccer practice” or simply “Sorry, but I’ve had a real crappy day and just want a Timmies and a smoke” ….any more than you would like to hear it.
As of late, these issues are becoming increasingly difficult to deal with. I know my blog is a big part of why this is such an issue. I have opened myself up to all of you in a way that most ladies in the industry do not. I do that, in the form of a blog because that is the only way I am comfortable doing so. I need to share with you the things that I do. I love opening up for discussion the many facets of this business, of life in general, that many want to talk about. But that part of me is separate from my business. I take time out of my personal life to discuss these things but I have to keep that side of me separate from the business side of me. I hope you can appreciate and respect where I am coming from.
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Monday, March 26, 2007
Me and strip clubs...then and now
Strip clubs. I had never been to a strip club prior to escorting. Since then I cannot count the number of visits. Sometimes it has been a meet and greet that has brought me there, other times I have visited while on business. Belle has made herself quite familiar at the Penthouse, almost like a second home. She knows many of the girls by name and even has her select favorites. She has been on stage with bills in her mouth, she has been in the back room to share a dance or two. Yes, Belle has the strip club lingo down pretty good.
Belle’s first night at a strip club was nothing short of sexual torture. Much worse than being bound and teased. Ropes define what can and cannot be done. But a beautiful woman tantalizing you with her long legs, supple breasts and hair flowing across your chest all the while knowing you must have restraint is the real torture. You have to rely on self discipline, it’s a rule and Belle thinks rules are made to be broken
I thought before going into my latest experience, I’d post an entry I made on a review board. I took some time to search NERBS to find this post, I wrote it just after Belle’s first experience in a strip club, at a Nerbs Meet and Greet Event.
Belle wrote on March 24, 2006: (omitting names originally used)
Ok, so I know I'm not a pro at this sort of thing so guys, help me out on this one.I walk into the club with a true gentleman and good friend and there before me are these beautiful women scantily clad. Handsome men all around, some familiar while there are others there that i'd like to get to know better. I give my round of hellos and hugs. Nervous as hell I see my sweetheart with the most amazing hands that make me melt so I pull up a seat. With my drink ordered I see this most sexy woman who makes me wet just by her sweet smile. And now the heat turns up. My palms get sweaty. The lights are flashing, erotic ladies working the stage, clothes flying....it's all a blur.
Before I know it I'm laying on the stage with a bill between my pursed lips, another down my shirt, another just slightly peeping out of my pants. I am soooo nervous but no fear as Kaylee is laying next to me with this beautiful naked woman caressing her inch by inch with her tongue.My turn, as Kaylee leaves me alone on stage!!!!! My heart races as my shirt makes it's way to my neck. The wetness of her tongue I can feel against my waist, Ohhh how I wanted to touch her soft sweet smelling body!!! She makes her way to my breasts, gently plays with them, her tongue so soft just the way I like to be caressed. Her breasts sway over my lips and I fight so hard to be still and not return her sweet kisses. Her lips on mine and I have totally forgotten I am on stage. The music stops, she whispers a soft "Thank you" and there I am left half nude on stage and embarrassment sets in!
I quickly make my way back to my seat, never so eager to light up that cigarette nor down a drink the way I did! I did it! My first time ever being on stage! I enjoyed it so much that when offered a second round on stage I jumped at the chance! I am no longer a strip club virgin now that I have experienced both the back room lap dance and the stage...or so I thought! Next thing I remember it's dark. I'm on a couch/seat in a dimly lit room sitting next to a very handsome gent. This same beautiful woman is dancing. Her hips swaying to the music. She is so sensual and I am in awe. After my begging eyes give away my extreme desire to caress her soft skin she tells me to please go ahead.
Her curves just so, the way her bum so nicely meets her legs. It's really hot in those rooms!!!! My shirt is off, then my bra and somehow my pants are just below my hips. No need to tell you just how wet I am at this point but to say I am very aroused by this experience. I am given the opportunity to taste her sweet body with my tongue, her arms, her legs, her supple breasts. I do believe my hands were everywhere, not too sure just where I wanted to rest them. Her legs, then between mine then to the nicely erect appendage I found beside me! So sensual, so erotic and so very, very hot!!!
The music stops and we kiss a sweet thank you kiss. I am dressed, sitting back in my seat, smoking that cigarette I so rightly deserve after being treated to nicely and I think to myself.......wow!!!!So here I sit at home in front of my computer, alone in this unstable state of mind very, VERY sexually frustrated wondering WHY DID THEY DO THIS TO ME?????? I feel soooo sorry for the gentleman I am seeing tomorrow afternoon and if he is reading this.....I can guarantee there will be no relaxing massages this time!!!!!! So my question is........you guys LIKE doing this to yourselves???? I am going CRAZY!!!! Good thing is I have a new toy that needs breaking in. No wonder they call them strip teases! These places should not be legal! Just driving home in such a mental state is worse than being intoxicated.
So, here is my plea that I will be taking to our government.......For the sanity and sexual gratification of all "Private Club" members I feel it should be mandatory that all entertainers must finish what they started!!!!!!! Off to bed I go................and not alone (unless inanimate rubber objects don't count as companions).
As I read that I go back to that time when Belle was still a separate identity. She was a name, a part of me but a part that I didn’t connect with. I kept her at a distance….quite frankly because she scared the hell out of me!
It’s now a year later. It’s a short time really, one year. But I have come a long way in that one year. And maybe comparing strip club experiences is an odd way to determine how much one has grown interpersonally but here is what I write on my most recent visit to a strip club:
Writing of March 24, 2007:
It’s another Meet and Greet event. I could meet up with everyone at PE 55 where the event is to start out but the problem is that it would require me driving out of Niagara Falls. So I decided to hit the Penthouse in hopes that the party would carry on there. I sit in my van and prepare myself for entering the strip club alone. What if no one is there? I know the clubs do not like women entering alone so I join a group of couples walking through the door. I get in and the place is packed.
I head to the bar to grab a beer as I scan the crowd for a familiar face…that was not one of a dancer. No one. Not one person could I recognize. I had just paid $5.00 to get in and another $5.75 for my beer, I might as well hang out for a bit. I headed to the other side of the club in a last ditch effort to find a friend, an acquaintance, hell…a co worker…just someone to sit with so I didn’t stand out. So there I sat, a lone stool pushed up against a wall, just me and my beer. I was nervous at first, not wanting the club to be upset that I was a lone woman there. They look at me as a threat. Not that I look like a dancer by any means but a single woman is likely to scan the club for men and take business away from the ladies.
I finished my beer and ordered another from the waitress. I was becoming frustrated with the young ones in perv row. Getting all excited, their little willies forcing them to jump up and down, they are now blocking my view and pissing me off. I see a table in front of the stage clear out so I make my move. A beer and a half, a perfect seat for viewing and I’m now feeling much more comfortable. I think it was at this moment that Belle left the building.
The next 3 hours were spent either up on stage or in the back room. While my favorite dancer Portia was not there, I made a few new friends. Caitlyn and Jordyn took very good care of me while on stage. Their routine together was oh so sweet but so much better when they performed for me. Soft lips and perfect bodies, what more could I have asked for.
I never met anyone there, I spent the night alone but it was an amazing moment for me. It was me, not Belle. I had nobody to impress. No need to put on a show or be something I am not as no one knew me there. So while I’d like to say it was Belle as this is usually her thing….the truth is Belle was no where in sight that night. It was me and I had a most amazing, hot, erotic time.
Yes, I still left the club at closing time sexually frustrated but I also took with me a confidence that without Belle I would not have known I had. I have accepted myself as I am. I have become comfortable just being me and not having to use Belle as an excuse to be sexually aggressive or adventurous. When I got home I wanted to research my post about my first strip club experience and the irony is that my first visit to a strip club was one year to the very day that I went to the same strip club alone.
Just one year I went from the shy girl who would not go on stage alone, who was so embarrassed to be in such a place in fear that someone would recognize me to being a woman on stage, alone and hoping I would run in to someone I knew to share the experience with. It was different being there alone. I had to find a woman that would watch my purse each time I went on stage, I had to specify to the waitress that I would be right back, not to take my beer (I learned this after the first 2 she took from me). I had to explain to the doormen that approached me 2 ½ hours after I sat down why I was there alone and give them my ID.
A different experience than any other but one that has ended an inner conflict I’ve had for some time. This life I am living, Belle and her adventures…they are all a part of me. My wants in life, my needs in life. We don’t have to be so separate. What I have done as Belle I have wanted to do as me but never had the environment where I felt safe to do it. I can only hope that when Belle has finished with this business I have learned how to step out of my safe zone without the need to hide behind another identity, another persona, another life. I can only hope. But one thing is for sure….I’ll never give up strip clubs, alone or with friends!
Belle’s first night at a strip club was nothing short of sexual torture. Much worse than being bound and teased. Ropes define what can and cannot be done. But a beautiful woman tantalizing you with her long legs, supple breasts and hair flowing across your chest all the while knowing you must have restraint is the real torture. You have to rely on self discipline, it’s a rule and Belle thinks rules are made to be broken
I thought before going into my latest experience, I’d post an entry I made on a review board. I took some time to search NERBS to find this post, I wrote it just after Belle’s first experience in a strip club, at a Nerbs Meet and Greet Event.
Belle wrote on March 24, 2006: (omitting names originally used)
Ok, so I know I'm not a pro at this sort of thing so guys, help me out on this one.I walk into the club with a true gentleman and good friend and there before me are these beautiful women scantily clad. Handsome men all around, some familiar while there are others there that i'd like to get to know better. I give my round of hellos and hugs. Nervous as hell I see my sweetheart with the most amazing hands that make me melt so I pull up a seat. With my drink ordered I see this most sexy woman who makes me wet just by her sweet smile. And now the heat turns up. My palms get sweaty. The lights are flashing, erotic ladies working the stage, clothes flying....it's all a blur.
Before I know it I'm laying on the stage with a bill between my pursed lips, another down my shirt, another just slightly peeping out of my pants. I am soooo nervous but no fear as Kaylee is laying next to me with this beautiful naked woman caressing her inch by inch with her tongue.My turn, as Kaylee leaves me alone on stage!!!!! My heart races as my shirt makes it's way to my neck. The wetness of her tongue I can feel against my waist, Ohhh how I wanted to touch her soft sweet smelling body!!! She makes her way to my breasts, gently plays with them, her tongue so soft just the way I like to be caressed. Her breasts sway over my lips and I fight so hard to be still and not return her sweet kisses. Her lips on mine and I have totally forgotten I am on stage. The music stops, she whispers a soft "Thank you" and there I am left half nude on stage and embarrassment sets in!
I quickly make my way back to my seat, never so eager to light up that cigarette nor down a drink the way I did! I did it! My first time ever being on stage! I enjoyed it so much that when offered a second round on stage I jumped at the chance! I am no longer a strip club virgin now that I have experienced both the back room lap dance and the stage...or so I thought! Next thing I remember it's dark. I'm on a couch/seat in a dimly lit room sitting next to a very handsome gent. This same beautiful woman is dancing. Her hips swaying to the music. She is so sensual and I am in awe. After my begging eyes give away my extreme desire to caress her soft skin she tells me to please go ahead.
Her curves just so, the way her bum so nicely meets her legs. It's really hot in those rooms!!!! My shirt is off, then my bra and somehow my pants are just below my hips. No need to tell you just how wet I am at this point but to say I am very aroused by this experience. I am given the opportunity to taste her sweet body with my tongue, her arms, her legs, her supple breasts. I do believe my hands were everywhere, not too sure just where I wanted to rest them. Her legs, then between mine then to the nicely erect appendage I found beside me! So sensual, so erotic and so very, very hot!!!
The music stops and we kiss a sweet thank you kiss. I am dressed, sitting back in my seat, smoking that cigarette I so rightly deserve after being treated to nicely and I think to myself.......wow!!!!So here I sit at home in front of my computer, alone in this unstable state of mind very, VERY sexually frustrated wondering WHY DID THEY DO THIS TO ME?????? I feel soooo sorry for the gentleman I am seeing tomorrow afternoon and if he is reading this.....I can guarantee there will be no relaxing massages this time!!!!!! So my question is........you guys LIKE doing this to yourselves???? I am going CRAZY!!!! Good thing is I have a new toy that needs breaking in. No wonder they call them strip teases! These places should not be legal! Just driving home in such a mental state is worse than being intoxicated.
So, here is my plea that I will be taking to our government.......For the sanity and sexual gratification of all "Private Club" members I feel it should be mandatory that all entertainers must finish what they started!!!!!!! Off to bed I go................and not alone (unless inanimate rubber objects don't count as companions).
As I read that I go back to that time when Belle was still a separate identity. She was a name, a part of me but a part that I didn’t connect with. I kept her at a distance….quite frankly because she scared the hell out of me!
It’s now a year later. It’s a short time really, one year. But I have come a long way in that one year. And maybe comparing strip club experiences is an odd way to determine how much one has grown interpersonally but here is what I write on my most recent visit to a strip club:
Writing of March 24, 2007:
It’s another Meet and Greet event. I could meet up with everyone at PE 55 where the event is to start out but the problem is that it would require me driving out of Niagara Falls. So I decided to hit the Penthouse in hopes that the party would carry on there. I sit in my van and prepare myself for entering the strip club alone. What if no one is there? I know the clubs do not like women entering alone so I join a group of couples walking through the door. I get in and the place is packed.
I head to the bar to grab a beer as I scan the crowd for a familiar face…that was not one of a dancer. No one. Not one person could I recognize. I had just paid $5.00 to get in and another $5.75 for my beer, I might as well hang out for a bit. I headed to the other side of the club in a last ditch effort to find a friend, an acquaintance, hell…a co worker…just someone to sit with so I didn’t stand out. So there I sat, a lone stool pushed up against a wall, just me and my beer. I was nervous at first, not wanting the club to be upset that I was a lone woman there. They look at me as a threat. Not that I look like a dancer by any means but a single woman is likely to scan the club for men and take business away from the ladies.
I finished my beer and ordered another from the waitress. I was becoming frustrated with the young ones in perv row. Getting all excited, their little willies forcing them to jump up and down, they are now blocking my view and pissing me off. I see a table in front of the stage clear out so I make my move. A beer and a half, a perfect seat for viewing and I’m now feeling much more comfortable. I think it was at this moment that Belle left the building.
The next 3 hours were spent either up on stage or in the back room. While my favorite dancer Portia was not there, I made a few new friends. Caitlyn and Jordyn took very good care of me while on stage. Their routine together was oh so sweet but so much better when they performed for me. Soft lips and perfect bodies, what more could I have asked for.
I never met anyone there, I spent the night alone but it was an amazing moment for me. It was me, not Belle. I had nobody to impress. No need to put on a show or be something I am not as no one knew me there. So while I’d like to say it was Belle as this is usually her thing….the truth is Belle was no where in sight that night. It was me and I had a most amazing, hot, erotic time.
Yes, I still left the club at closing time sexually frustrated but I also took with me a confidence that without Belle I would not have known I had. I have accepted myself as I am. I have become comfortable just being me and not having to use Belle as an excuse to be sexually aggressive or adventurous. When I got home I wanted to research my post about my first strip club experience and the irony is that my first visit to a strip club was one year to the very day that I went to the same strip club alone.
Just one year I went from the shy girl who would not go on stage alone, who was so embarrassed to be in such a place in fear that someone would recognize me to being a woman on stage, alone and hoping I would run in to someone I knew to share the experience with. It was different being there alone. I had to find a woman that would watch my purse each time I went on stage, I had to specify to the waitress that I would be right back, not to take my beer (I learned this after the first 2 she took from me). I had to explain to the doormen that approached me 2 ½ hours after I sat down why I was there alone and give them my ID.
A different experience than any other but one that has ended an inner conflict I’ve had for some time. This life I am living, Belle and her adventures…they are all a part of me. My wants in life, my needs in life. We don’t have to be so separate. What I have done as Belle I have wanted to do as me but never had the environment where I felt safe to do it. I can only hope that when Belle has finished with this business I have learned how to step out of my safe zone without the need to hide behind another identity, another persona, another life. I can only hope. But one thing is for sure….I’ll never give up strip clubs, alone or with friends!
Saturday, March 24, 2007
My life vs. a non-escort's life
I have been thinking lately about how society as a whole views escorting and have come to realize that the life I live as an escort really is not that much different from how most young single women live their lives. So let’s break down my day and you tell me how different my life really is from most other 32 year old single women.
1) I wake up, drive to Timmies for my morning tea, return home and light a cigarette while I wait for my computer to boot. Hmmm, Ok, maybe most women make their own tea. That doesn’t make me a bad person, maybe just a lazy one.
2) I check my emails. Ok, most of my emails are men asking me to have sex with them where as most young single women wish most of their emails were from men asking to have sex with them. That doesn’t make me a bad person, just a lucky one.
3) I shower and shave, give my hair a toss and put a little color on my lips. Most single women shower, shave, moisturize, blow dry and curl their hair, apply 3 layers of makeup, douse in perfume, and dress provocatively in the hopes of getting laid. I dress down and know I am getting laid. This doesn’t make me a bad person, it just reiterates the fact that I am as above: Lazy and lucky!
4) I get plenty of sex, so when I visit the gym I do so to relax in the hot tub. Most single women go to the gym in hopes of finding sex, their idea of relaxing is the cigarette they get to smoke after the act if they are successful. That doesn’t make me a bad person, just a relaxed one….and my exercise comes with much more pleasure than a treadmill could ever provide! And as for the cigarette….I sometimes even get to smoke DURING the act, another “lucky” stroke for me!
5) I make sure my purse has condoms in it before I leave the house when I know that sex is of high probability. I would like to think that most young single women do this too. That doesn’t make me a bad person, but a safe and smart one. And my condoms are flavored which shows I have more taste than most young single women!
6) I go to work five days a week. Yes, a real job outside of my escorting. Hmmm, again it sounds like something most young single women do. Maybe not only am I an escort…but I am “real” too! Is it possible that I am very much like most young single women? Surely not….. I am an escort ….I must be a bad person. Let’s carry on.
7) I go out to hang with friends, have a beer or two and a few laughs. Ok, so most of those friends I have slept with. Most young single women…. they do not speak to men they have had sex with in their past. Think about it. How many young single women do you know that have sex with men, end that sexual relationship with them then hang out together? I don't involve emotion which allows me to avoid awkward "after-sex" moments. Not expectations afterwards=no awkward "after-sex" moments. That doesn’t make me a bad person, just a mature one perhaps.
8) I go to strip clubs. In my defense….I hear this is a growing phenomenon with young single women! (Just go with me on this one, ok?) Does that make me a bad person? I would prefer to think of it as a sexually confident person who can appreciate the art of a woman’s body. Ok, and perhaps a little risqué, not that there is anything wrong with that!
9) I don’t have relationships with the men I sleep with. Do many single young women do this anymore? I think casual sex is becoming more the norm. And for the ones that do have relationships……why? So you can get all emotional? So jealousy can set in and you wonder every time he runs late if he is sleeping with someone else? To tell your life story, having to explain who you are, where you come from and where you’re headed in life all for him to decide he doesn’t approve of you and your choices in life. Me, I have nothing to explain. The men I see…..they know all that they need to know about me, before they even meet me! If they don’t accept me, they have made that decision without me even knowing it! No relationship=no pressure. Does this make me a bad person? No, just an emotionally guarded but sexually satisfied one.
10) I get paid for sex. Most single young women obviously do not. This seems to be the big issue. First of all, every woman who is having sex, is getting paid for it, just indirectly. Do you think if you walked up to a young single woman and asked her to have sex with you she would say yes? Likely not. You would have to ask her out for dinner at least once, a few drinks, the movies, a walk on the beach, candlelight, a few more drinks…..all those things you really don’t care to do not to mention it’s time consuming. My arrangement as an escort just speeds up the process. The same amount of money involved but we cut the bullshit. That does not make me a bad person but one that values her time and her self worth…..and doesn’t care much for beaches.
So, as I see it I am lazy and not big on beaches. But I am also a lucky, relaxed, more lucky, safe, smart, real, mature, sexually confident, risqué, emotionally guarded, sexually satisfied young woman who values her time and self worth. Can most young single women say they are all of the above? I really hope they can. I may not always be as I have described but I can say that the last thing I am is a bad person.
Now if I could just convince 6,525,170,264 people (the world’s population as of July 2006 according to https://www.cia.gov/cia/publications/fa … nt/xx.html) just how much I am like them my mission will be accomplished. Excuse me while I brush up on my Arabic, thank God I speak Greek so well. Russian will be most difficult for me though, I think I may need a translator!
1) I wake up, drive to Timmies for my morning tea, return home and light a cigarette while I wait for my computer to boot. Hmmm, Ok, maybe most women make their own tea. That doesn’t make me a bad person, maybe just a lazy one.
2) I check my emails. Ok, most of my emails are men asking me to have sex with them where as most young single women wish most of their emails were from men asking to have sex with them. That doesn’t make me a bad person, just a lucky one.
3) I shower and shave, give my hair a toss and put a little color on my lips. Most single women shower, shave, moisturize, blow dry and curl their hair, apply 3 layers of makeup, douse in perfume, and dress provocatively in the hopes of getting laid. I dress down and know I am getting laid. This doesn’t make me a bad person, it just reiterates the fact that I am as above: Lazy and lucky!
4) I get plenty of sex, so when I visit the gym I do so to relax in the hot tub. Most single women go to the gym in hopes of finding sex, their idea of relaxing is the cigarette they get to smoke after the act if they are successful. That doesn’t make me a bad person, just a relaxed one….and my exercise comes with much more pleasure than a treadmill could ever provide! And as for the cigarette….I sometimes even get to smoke DURING the act, another “lucky” stroke for me!
5) I make sure my purse has condoms in it before I leave the house when I know that sex is of high probability. I would like to think that most young single women do this too. That doesn’t make me a bad person, but a safe and smart one. And my condoms are flavored which shows I have more taste than most young single women!
6) I go to work five days a week. Yes, a real job outside of my escorting. Hmmm, again it sounds like something most young single women do. Maybe not only am I an escort…but I am “real” too! Is it possible that I am very much like most young single women? Surely not….. I am an escort ….I must be a bad person. Let’s carry on.
7) I go out to hang with friends, have a beer or two and a few laughs. Ok, so most of those friends I have slept with. Most young single women…. they do not speak to men they have had sex with in their past. Think about it. How many young single women do you know that have sex with men, end that sexual relationship with them then hang out together? I don't involve emotion which allows me to avoid awkward "after-sex" moments. Not expectations afterwards=no awkward "after-sex" moments. That doesn’t make me a bad person, just a mature one perhaps.
8) I go to strip clubs. In my defense….I hear this is a growing phenomenon with young single women! (Just go with me on this one, ok?) Does that make me a bad person? I would prefer to think of it as a sexually confident person who can appreciate the art of a woman’s body. Ok, and perhaps a little risqué, not that there is anything wrong with that!
9) I don’t have relationships with the men I sleep with. Do many single young women do this anymore? I think casual sex is becoming more the norm. And for the ones that do have relationships……why? So you can get all emotional? So jealousy can set in and you wonder every time he runs late if he is sleeping with someone else? To tell your life story, having to explain who you are, where you come from and where you’re headed in life all for him to decide he doesn’t approve of you and your choices in life. Me, I have nothing to explain. The men I see…..they know all that they need to know about me, before they even meet me! If they don’t accept me, they have made that decision without me even knowing it! No relationship=no pressure. Does this make me a bad person? No, just an emotionally guarded but sexually satisfied one.
10) I get paid for sex. Most single young women obviously do not. This seems to be the big issue. First of all, every woman who is having sex, is getting paid for it, just indirectly. Do you think if you walked up to a young single woman and asked her to have sex with you she would say yes? Likely not. You would have to ask her out for dinner at least once, a few drinks, the movies, a walk on the beach, candlelight, a few more drinks…..all those things you really don’t care to do not to mention it’s time consuming. My arrangement as an escort just speeds up the process. The same amount of money involved but we cut the bullshit. That does not make me a bad person but one that values her time and her self worth…..and doesn’t care much for beaches.
So, as I see it I am lazy and not big on beaches. But I am also a lucky, relaxed, more lucky, safe, smart, real, mature, sexually confident, risqué, emotionally guarded, sexually satisfied young woman who values her time and self worth. Can most young single women say they are all of the above? I really hope they can. I may not always be as I have described but I can say that the last thing I am is a bad person.
Now if I could just convince 6,525,170,264 people (the world’s population as of July 2006 according to https://www.cia.gov/cia/publications/fa … nt/xx.html) just how much I am like them my mission will be accomplished. Excuse me while I brush up on my Arabic, thank God I speak Greek so well. Russian will be most difficult for me though, I think I may need a translator!
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Montreal: Bricks and Bouquets
Bricks and Bouquets. Most newspapers have a section like this. It’s giving thanks where thanks is due and giving the finger where the finger is due. So here’s my thanks and my fingers.
Bouquet to the Montreal taxi driver Peter who drove from his home in Laval back to the airport to deliver my purse to me (with all money) that I left in his cab when he dropped me off. Had it not been for you I never would have made my flight.
Brick to the strip club doorman in Montreal (who never held the door) and insisted that it is customary to tip the doorman. Hope you had fun on your hands and knees looking for the loonie that was flipped to you, be thankful that was all that was flipped to you.
Bouquet to the Montreal Canadiens; they not only played an awesome game but also spent so much time after practice to stop and sign autographs. They made my first trip to Montreal a most memorable one. Also a bouquet to the fan club forum members who told me where to find my team!
Brick to myself for not taking the time to learn more French before visiting a French speaking province, especially after the time I spend cursing those in Canada who do not take the time to learn English yet expect me to be able to understand them.
Bouquet to the restaurants, Bell Centre staff , hotel employees and most everyone I encountered in Montreal for being bi-lingual. You made up for my ignorance.
Brick to whom ever gave me this damn cold that slowed me down while I was away!
Bouquet to the company I shared for being so understanding and taking great care of me.
No more bricks but here are a few more Bouquets:
Bouquet to Tim Horton’s for being on every street corner in Montreal.
Bouquet to the memorabilia shop at the Bell Center, you satisfied my shopping cravings. Thanks for doing your best to find a sharpie for me for autographs. While we came up short handed your efforts were appreciated.
Bouquet to Westjet. Our flight was delayed by 2 hours but you managed to get us on an earlier flight that was boarding as we arrived. I would have missed the chance to meet my Habs without your help!
And a final Bouquet to the city of Montreal, a beautiful city to visit. While it was a short one I was able to take in the beauty of your buildings and capture the atmosphere of a city with an olde town feel. I can’t wait to do it again.
Bouquet to the Montreal taxi driver Peter who drove from his home in Laval back to the airport to deliver my purse to me (with all money) that I left in his cab when he dropped me off. Had it not been for you I never would have made my flight.
Brick to the strip club doorman in Montreal (who never held the door) and insisted that it is customary to tip the doorman. Hope you had fun on your hands and knees looking for the loonie that was flipped to you, be thankful that was all that was flipped to you.
Bouquet to the Montreal Canadiens; they not only played an awesome game but also spent so much time after practice to stop and sign autographs. They made my first trip to Montreal a most memorable one. Also a bouquet to the fan club forum members who told me where to find my team!
Brick to myself for not taking the time to learn more French before visiting a French speaking province, especially after the time I spend cursing those in Canada who do not take the time to learn English yet expect me to be able to understand them.
Bouquet to the restaurants, Bell Centre staff , hotel employees and most everyone I encountered in Montreal for being bi-lingual. You made up for my ignorance.
Brick to whom ever gave me this damn cold that slowed me down while I was away!
Bouquet to the company I shared for being so understanding and taking great care of me.
No more bricks but here are a few more Bouquets:
Bouquet to Tim Horton’s for being on every street corner in Montreal.
Bouquet to the memorabilia shop at the Bell Center, you satisfied my shopping cravings. Thanks for doing your best to find a sharpie for me for autographs. While we came up short handed your efforts were appreciated.
Bouquet to Westjet. Our flight was delayed by 2 hours but you managed to get us on an earlier flight that was boarding as we arrived. I would have missed the chance to meet my Habs without your help!
And a final Bouquet to the city of Montreal, a beautiful city to visit. While it was a short one I was able to take in the beauty of your buildings and capture the atmosphere of a city with an olde town feel. I can’t wait to do it again.
Brazilian waxing...it's just WRONG!
Brazilian waxing. Sounds exotic doesn’t it? Well I am here to tell you there is not a damn thing exotic about it! In fact, I don’t even see anything Brazilian about it! For those of you out there that do not know what a Brazilian wax is I’ll spell it out for you. P-A-I-N. No pretty way to spell it out. It is having your hair ripped out by its roots in your most private of places, from the very front, to the very back.
Why do we do this to ourselves? Ya know, women really get the shit end of the stick. We’re teens and we hit the cramps that come with womanhood. Every single month (and for most women, 30-40 years of this) we put up with bloating and the muscle spasms that would send most men to the ground in the fetal position. Then our chest decides it’s going to grow these lumps. They don’t happen overnight and if you have luck like me these growing pains come the same time as the cramps every month. I really got the shit end of the stick here as I got the chest pains but the damn lumps never came!
Then we voluntarily decide to have an eight pound body live within our own. We now suffer back pain and nausea like no man could endure not to mention the pain of our internal organs being rearranged to make room. Then we spend many excruciatingly painful hours getting these eight pound beings out of our bodies. Not only do we do this once but for some of us, over and over again! Then we nurse these babies, which brings about a whole new set of stomach pains, not to mention more chest pains. I’d like to say we escape all of that with no scarring but no, we get that too. If we happen to be spared the scarring we still walk away with a detailed road map of our journey.
Then you men tell us that when our beaten bodies finally make it to bed, we are not smooth enough! So this is where I am at tonight…the wax.I hate shaving, I hate trying to keep up with shaving and I hate paying $15 for four “triple blade” razor blades every couple of weeks. Rumor has it that the “Brazilian” is the way to go so I thought I might as well give it a try. It may just be a small price to pay to avoid the daily shave. Well it ain’t no small price to pay! (Yes I’m aware that is not proper grammar but give me a break, my pussy is swollen and it’s not from great sex!)
I walk in… the spa I am visiting for the first time is the home of a very sweet woman. It’s nine pm, her last appointment of the day. She then informs met that the construction crew on the second floor has been told not to interrupt. I am about to be bare-assed naked in the middle of a living room and a simple staircase is the only thing that separates me from a crew of men hammering on the floor above me. You would think I would be comfortable with that, after all I never have so much as a sheet between complete strangers and myself but that is Belle and this is me.
She asks me to strip from the waist down and lay on my back on the massage bed she has prepared for me. I felt like being at the doctor’s office with the same paper they use running the length of the bed. Sanitary at least. We chat as I watch her stir the pink wax and slap it on my pussy with a popsicle stick. A sheet of something (looks like paper, but just what is it they use?) is then placed over top of the wax. She presses hard and runs her fingers up and down this sheet to be sure the wax has blended well. Then one, two three and RRRIP! My eyes must have bugged out of my head. My knees curled up to my chest and every muscle from my thighs to my chest convulsed. I looked down and there was a 3cm by 3cm strip gone. Do you know just how many 3cm by 3cm strips this took? I didn’t have the patience to count but it was a lot! RRRIP after RRRIP after RRRIP for 20 minutes. My entire body was in a sweat, so much so that when she asked me to roll over and stick my ass in the air, the paper sheet I was laying on had stuck to my back like toilet paper on stubble. Which was a good thing as it gave me a few minutes to look for my eye balls on the floor while she cleaned off my back.
I am telling you, the shit us women endure just to make you men happy damn well better not go unappreciated. So the next time you find yourself in bed with a woman who has a nice smooth pussy, please recognize what she goes through to get that way. Oh, and to the ladies out there….a little piece of advice. Shoppers Drug Mart sells an aloe gel to use for minor skin abrasions, sun burns, chafing etc. Don’t use this crap after waxing, it has an antiseptic that stings like a son of a bitch! I’m off to pamper my swollen but smooth as a baby’s bottom pussy now….
Why do we do this to ourselves? Ya know, women really get the shit end of the stick. We’re teens and we hit the cramps that come with womanhood. Every single month (and for most women, 30-40 years of this) we put up with bloating and the muscle spasms that would send most men to the ground in the fetal position. Then our chest decides it’s going to grow these lumps. They don’t happen overnight and if you have luck like me these growing pains come the same time as the cramps every month. I really got the shit end of the stick here as I got the chest pains but the damn lumps never came!
Then we voluntarily decide to have an eight pound body live within our own. We now suffer back pain and nausea like no man could endure not to mention the pain of our internal organs being rearranged to make room. Then we spend many excruciatingly painful hours getting these eight pound beings out of our bodies. Not only do we do this once but for some of us, over and over again! Then we nurse these babies, which brings about a whole new set of stomach pains, not to mention more chest pains. I’d like to say we escape all of that with no scarring but no, we get that too. If we happen to be spared the scarring we still walk away with a detailed road map of our journey.
Then you men tell us that when our beaten bodies finally make it to bed, we are not smooth enough! So this is where I am at tonight…the wax.I hate shaving, I hate trying to keep up with shaving and I hate paying $15 for four “triple blade” razor blades every couple of weeks. Rumor has it that the “Brazilian” is the way to go so I thought I might as well give it a try. It may just be a small price to pay to avoid the daily shave. Well it ain’t no small price to pay! (Yes I’m aware that is not proper grammar but give me a break, my pussy is swollen and it’s not from great sex!)
I walk in… the spa I am visiting for the first time is the home of a very sweet woman. It’s nine pm, her last appointment of the day. She then informs met that the construction crew on the second floor has been told not to interrupt. I am about to be bare-assed naked in the middle of a living room and a simple staircase is the only thing that separates me from a crew of men hammering on the floor above me. You would think I would be comfortable with that, after all I never have so much as a sheet between complete strangers and myself but that is Belle and this is me.
She asks me to strip from the waist down and lay on my back on the massage bed she has prepared for me. I felt like being at the doctor’s office with the same paper they use running the length of the bed. Sanitary at least. We chat as I watch her stir the pink wax and slap it on my pussy with a popsicle stick. A sheet of something (looks like paper, but just what is it they use?) is then placed over top of the wax. She presses hard and runs her fingers up and down this sheet to be sure the wax has blended well. Then one, two three and RRRIP! My eyes must have bugged out of my head. My knees curled up to my chest and every muscle from my thighs to my chest convulsed. I looked down and there was a 3cm by 3cm strip gone. Do you know just how many 3cm by 3cm strips this took? I didn’t have the patience to count but it was a lot! RRRIP after RRRIP after RRRIP for 20 minutes. My entire body was in a sweat, so much so that when she asked me to roll over and stick my ass in the air, the paper sheet I was laying on had stuck to my back like toilet paper on stubble. Which was a good thing as it gave me a few minutes to look for my eye balls on the floor while she cleaned off my back.
I am telling you, the shit us women endure just to make you men happy damn well better not go unappreciated. So the next time you find yourself in bed with a woman who has a nice smooth pussy, please recognize what she goes through to get that way. Oh, and to the ladies out there….a little piece of advice. Shoppers Drug Mart sells an aloe gel to use for minor skin abrasions, sun burns, chafing etc. Don’t use this crap after waxing, it has an antiseptic that stings like a son of a bitch! I’m off to pamper my swollen but smooth as a baby’s bottom pussy now….
My escorting resume
To Whom ever may be considering hiring an escort:
My name is Belle and I am looking for a position within your company, or some company to be in a position with me. I prefer Doggy Style but Missionary pleases me just the same. I have 16 years of sexual experience. From August 2005-February 2006 I worked for an established escort agency in Niagara where I worked my ass off to build a good reputation. From February 2006 to present I have worked independently, still working my ass off, but with no middle man having his hands in my cookie (jar).
I am looking for an employer that would offer quick advancement and I am not above sleeping my way to the top. In fact, I prefer to start on top but if I must work my way up then please put me in a lower entry level to start. I can be a slow learner if I am enjoying my lesson but if required I can work well under pressure too. It just so happens that my best work is done when direct pressure is applied in just the right places.
My qualifications are extensive. Last year I obtained my masters in BBBJ. I also hold multiple degrees in M.S.O.G. I took my training further by acquiring a few personal interest courses which includes D.A.T.Y, (both shipping and receiving) as well as L.F.K and D.F.K. I am only qualified for CFS and have no intention on removing the C from my title. I realize it may better my resume to partake in C.I.M but with my other studies I just don’t see that happening. I received my masters in Duets just last week from the School of C & D, excellent instructors there I might add. While studying a broad I also picked up the Greek language and speak it fluently. My credentials include the first ever S.P.O.T.Y award for Niagara Region in 2006, a title I wear proudly. Oh…..and I don’t like pearls but I specialize in G.F.E.
I am intellectual and am able to hold excellent conversation, even with my mouth full. While I do not swallow I can spit like a ball player. I am always on time and I never punch out early, even if my job is done. I clean up after any messes made, even if I am not the one to make them. I work well in a group setting, especially with naked women who don’t mind a little hard work as I will guarantee they will be satisfied with the result of their labor. I do not believe in misrepresentation so I will not pretend to be a nurse or a secretary or anything else I am not for that matter.
I realize how important repeat business is for you. I like dealing with hard clients and the challenge of keeping them coming and coming and coming again. For insurance purposes I cum fully protected and will not do business otherwise. I am willing to provide a list of references upon request but would prefer to prove myself to you with a physical demonstration of all of my skills I possess. I do believe hands on training is a must and am willing to undergo any physical training you may feel necessary. I have worked alone for many years and while I have never let myself down I believe in team spirit…. the power of sex in numbers.
Thank you for taking the time to review my resume. I hope we can meet in person to fuck and even if I don’t get the job hopefully I walk away having had a great orgasm. While I am a company person, when it comes down to it it’s all about me!
My name is Belle and I am looking for a position within your company, or some company to be in a position with me. I prefer Doggy Style but Missionary pleases me just the same. I have 16 years of sexual experience. From August 2005-February 2006 I worked for an established escort agency in Niagara where I worked my ass off to build a good reputation. From February 2006 to present I have worked independently, still working my ass off, but with no middle man having his hands in my cookie (jar).
I am looking for an employer that would offer quick advancement and I am not above sleeping my way to the top. In fact, I prefer to start on top but if I must work my way up then please put me in a lower entry level to start. I can be a slow learner if I am enjoying my lesson but if required I can work well under pressure too. It just so happens that my best work is done when direct pressure is applied in just the right places.
My qualifications are extensive. Last year I obtained my masters in BBBJ. I also hold multiple degrees in M.S.O.G. I took my training further by acquiring a few personal interest courses which includes D.A.T.Y, (both shipping and receiving) as well as L.F.K and D.F.K. I am only qualified for CFS and have no intention on removing the C from my title. I realize it may better my resume to partake in C.I.M but with my other studies I just don’t see that happening. I received my masters in Duets just last week from the School of C & D, excellent instructors there I might add. While studying a broad I also picked up the Greek language and speak it fluently. My credentials include the first ever S.P.O.T.Y award for Niagara Region in 2006, a title I wear proudly. Oh…..and I don’t like pearls but I specialize in G.F.E.
I am intellectual and am able to hold excellent conversation, even with my mouth full. While I do not swallow I can spit like a ball player. I am always on time and I never punch out early, even if my job is done. I clean up after any messes made, even if I am not the one to make them. I work well in a group setting, especially with naked women who don’t mind a little hard work as I will guarantee they will be satisfied with the result of their labor. I do not believe in misrepresentation so I will not pretend to be a nurse or a secretary or anything else I am not for that matter.
I realize how important repeat business is for you. I like dealing with hard clients and the challenge of keeping them coming and coming and coming again. For insurance purposes I cum fully protected and will not do business otherwise. I am willing to provide a list of references upon request but would prefer to prove myself to you with a physical demonstration of all of my skills I possess. I do believe hands on training is a must and am willing to undergo any physical training you may feel necessary. I have worked alone for many years and while I have never let myself down I believe in team spirit…. the power of sex in numbers.
Thank you for taking the time to review my resume. I hope we can meet in person to fuck and even if I don’t get the job hopefully I walk away having had a great orgasm. While I am a company person, when it comes down to it it’s all about me!
Give me the gloves and no one gets hurt!
I have become one of them. You know, those people that really piss you off when you are shopping. I hate to say it but those old ladies finally got to me! This is totally out of context for my blog but I have to vent. I’m in Value Village. Yes, my favorite shopping place…. until today when I realized that at 10 am the place is full of white hair, glasses wearing old bitties pushing 4 wheeled go carts. These ladies are nuts.
I’m coming down the aisle, the very narrow isle and assuming that sweet ole’ grandma is going to move her buggy for me. I politely sit there a minute and see she has no intention of doing so. I politely say “excuse me”, she pretends not to hear me. I know when someone is pretending not to hear me, my kids do it to me all of the time!So I wiggle my buggy into the clothing racks on my side of the aisle and fight the old lady blouses that keep getting caught on my buggy. I give her a dirty look, give her buggy a deliberate push and carry on. I could not believe how pissed off this made me. I have a grandmother, and my 94 yr old great-grandmother (God bless her) is still with us. They would never think of being so rude to someone!
So, I find some clothes for my kids and a pair of boy’s gloves for my son. Walmart seems to think it’s 80 degrees out now and have put away all of their winter clothing so as Murphy’s Law would have it, my son lost a glove. It was a great find, damn I love Value Village.So, I find a few pairs of jeans I would like to try on. I park my buggy outside my change room door and head in with my jeans. I don’t like any of them but it’s no surprise there as I never do. I walk out….and my buggy is gone! No big deal under normal circumstances but I want those gloves! I am pissed and I’m on a mission. I start storming through the aisles checking out every white haired, glasses wearing buggy pushing 70 year old I can find. Up one aisle, down the next and up the next. Sure enough, by the old bitty shoe section I see it. The blue finger of a glove sticking through the bars on the bottom of the buggy. Yes, an old lady was too damn lazy to walk 20 feet to get her own friggin buggy so she took mine.
I shopped for 45 minutes to find those damn gloves and I want them! I think old people are getting away with too much these days. Someone cuts us off and we’re pissed…till we see the white hair and glasses barely peering over the dash. Why don’t we ever pull up beside them, stop our cars and confront these reckless people. “Excuse me old man, but you just friggin cut me off, anything you’d like to say to me? And don’t pretend you can’t fucking hear me damnit!”
Ok, a little extreme maybe but hey….it’s my post and I can vent if I want to! So, back to the glove. I walk up to her and I politely (yes, I am keeping my cool here) explain that I think she may have accidentally taken my buggy while I was changing. Yes, you got it. The bitch ignored me! So, while she was trying on an old bitty pair of shoes I started digging through her cart and grabbed the gloves as well as the 3 other pieces of clothing I placed in there. Well….you’d think I just robbed the woman! She starts yelling at me to get out of her buggy. I try to explain at first but then I say to hell with it. Not only did I grab the clothes I had put in there but I grabbed a sweater that she put in there too! I walked away snickering to myself at the thought of her checking out at the register and wondering what happened to her multicolored striped sweater. I hid the sweater in the kids section then checked out.
I sat in my van, lit a smoke and laughed hysterically. At what I am not so sure. Because I took her sweater? Because I hid her sweater? Because I am such a freaking idiot? Either way it gave me a good laugh. Some days I just don’t feel like being nice.
Belle
I’m coming down the aisle, the very narrow isle and assuming that sweet ole’ grandma is going to move her buggy for me. I politely sit there a minute and see she has no intention of doing so. I politely say “excuse me”, she pretends not to hear me. I know when someone is pretending not to hear me, my kids do it to me all of the time!So I wiggle my buggy into the clothing racks on my side of the aisle and fight the old lady blouses that keep getting caught on my buggy. I give her a dirty look, give her buggy a deliberate push and carry on. I could not believe how pissed off this made me. I have a grandmother, and my 94 yr old great-grandmother (God bless her) is still with us. They would never think of being so rude to someone!
So, I find some clothes for my kids and a pair of boy’s gloves for my son. Walmart seems to think it’s 80 degrees out now and have put away all of their winter clothing so as Murphy’s Law would have it, my son lost a glove. It was a great find, damn I love Value Village.So, I find a few pairs of jeans I would like to try on. I park my buggy outside my change room door and head in with my jeans. I don’t like any of them but it’s no surprise there as I never do. I walk out….and my buggy is gone! No big deal under normal circumstances but I want those gloves! I am pissed and I’m on a mission. I start storming through the aisles checking out every white haired, glasses wearing buggy pushing 70 year old I can find. Up one aisle, down the next and up the next. Sure enough, by the old bitty shoe section I see it. The blue finger of a glove sticking through the bars on the bottom of the buggy. Yes, an old lady was too damn lazy to walk 20 feet to get her own friggin buggy so she took mine.
I shopped for 45 minutes to find those damn gloves and I want them! I think old people are getting away with too much these days. Someone cuts us off and we’re pissed…till we see the white hair and glasses barely peering over the dash. Why don’t we ever pull up beside them, stop our cars and confront these reckless people. “Excuse me old man, but you just friggin cut me off, anything you’d like to say to me? And don’t pretend you can’t fucking hear me damnit!”
Ok, a little extreme maybe but hey….it’s my post and I can vent if I want to! So, back to the glove. I walk up to her and I politely (yes, I am keeping my cool here) explain that I think she may have accidentally taken my buggy while I was changing. Yes, you got it. The bitch ignored me! So, while she was trying on an old bitty pair of shoes I started digging through her cart and grabbed the gloves as well as the 3 other pieces of clothing I placed in there. Well….you’d think I just robbed the woman! She starts yelling at me to get out of her buggy. I try to explain at first but then I say to hell with it. Not only did I grab the clothes I had put in there but I grabbed a sweater that she put in there too! I walked away snickering to myself at the thought of her checking out at the register and wondering what happened to her multicolored striped sweater. I hid the sweater in the kids section then checked out.
I sat in my van, lit a smoke and laughed hysterically. At what I am not so sure. Because I took her sweater? Because I hid her sweater? Because I am such a freaking idiot? Either way it gave me a good laugh. Some days I just don’t feel like being nice.
Belle
The couple call Part 2
I had started writing this some time ago. It was originally going to be about a couple I had seen for the first time. Now, having just recently seeing them for a second time I realized that the story gets much better the second time around. No introductions that need to be made. No wondering what each of them enjoys or what their comfort level is. We really clicked the first time we met. There was no awkwardness, no one felt out of place. We all belonged together, naked in that bed. It was natural, an added bonus to have an experience like that.
Our first meet was set up by the lady. She wanted to surprise her husband by giving him his fantasy of walking into the room to find his wife naked in bed with another woman. Who was I not to play along? We spent a few minutes getting to know each other before he was to arrive. We kissed and I knew right then we would have a great time. It wasn’t long before we were naked under the sheets perfecting a most passionate kiss.
We hear the key in the door and the fun begins. He walks in and stops at the foot of the bed. A grin takes over his face, he appears impressed with the conniving ways of his wife. We say a quick hello and I return my lips to the wet ones of the beautiful woman lying beside me. The sheets are drawn, our legs brushing up against each other as we press our bodies close together. I can’t keep my hands from stroking her soft skin. As we kiss I listen to him undressing. I could hear him pull his pants from his legs. He lays them down and I can feel him crawling up from the foot of the bed.
All he does is touch her and she lets out a moan. His hands over her body I then I feel the warm wetness of his tongue directly on my clit. No warning, no working his way to me. He was just there, out of nowhere, tasting me. Our time together that night was nothing short of erotic. Lots of he’s, she’s and me’s followed. She and I pleasing him, him and her were pleasing me. She and I pleasing each other, he and her letting me watch their love making. It was a wonderful night for me, so how could our second time be any better?
An email from him. He wants to surprise his wife this time. They would be spending the evening at a strip club, then returning to the room. The plan…..to have me waiting in the jacuzzi tub upon their return. We met in the afternoon for me to get the room key and the plan was in motion. I spent the whole day thinking about what was to come. I arrived a half hour before they were expected to. I undressed, hid my clothes then drew a nice hot bath. I poured myself a glass of wine and slid myself into the tub.
Right on time, I hear them at the door. The unsuspecting wife makes her way into the bedroom area and I hear them mumble. He asks her to come near him to see something. As she steps closer he opens the French style windows to show her his gift, me! She shrieks and has a puzzled look on her face at first. I imagine with the drinks consumed prior to returning to the hotel her first thought was a dead body in the tub. She looks again and shrieks a much more delighted squeal. Yes, she was definitely surprised and seemingly happy with her gift.
A minute for them to undress and they were lying next to me in the bath. We talk about the planning of the surprise and he tells her how much he loves her. That is what is so amazing about this couple. Their love is so strong it truly is an honor to be asked to share in their most private moments. Her and I kiss, caress and quickly decide this must move to the bed immediately.There was no need to work into the mood as we were all wet and ready before things even got started. She rested her body over mine as we settled in for a very erotic kiss. You know, that kind of kiss you just do not want to end. We make sure he has a great view of this and spend a fair amount of time smiling, pausing to look at each other then back to the kiss.
He takes my thighs into his arms, wraps around them and quickly realizes how wet I am. He takes his time tasting me, nice and slow hitting all the right places in just the right way. My body is sweaty after soaking in the tub so long and makes for smooth gliding as she slides her body against mine.
She works her tongue down from my lips, chasing the beads of sweat that roll from the nape of my neck. I apologize for tasting sweaty but she does not seem to mind. With my eyes closed I focus on their tongues working hard to please me. It amazes me that they have asked me to join them for their pleasure yet they spend so much time pleasing me. He stands up and walks around the bed where I eagerly take him into my mouth as he bends over my body to caress my waist and thighs with his hands. Her moist tongue against my clit, it’s almost unbearable for me.
Then the most amazing sensation I have ever experienced. She kneels at my side on the bed and lowers her pussy to mine. She spreads her lips, I spread mine and her clit presses against mine. Instantly I felt this strong muscle spasm, so strong it hurt but felt so damn good at the same time. I ached so badly to cum like this. I have thought about this very moment many times before but never have I had sex with a woman in such an intense way. She is upright on the bed, I am stretched out flat. Our clits rubbing, our juices mixing together and I watch as she presses harder and harder into my pussy.Her rhythm picks up faster and faster as she lets out desperate moans. My arm wrapped around her thigh, my hand on her perfectly rounded bum, I grab hold and return her thrusts. I can’t hold it, I can’t wait for her. I felt so selfish but she simply drove me crazy. Harder, faster, harder and I was there. It was one of those mind blowing orgasms and it lasted several minutes. I could feel it in my stomach and down to my toes. I could feel my body tremor, if I could only have her feel what I felt that very moment.
With me fully satisfied I felt guilty to have been so selfish. But it ended the most perfect way. I lay next to them on the bed and watched them make love. It is one thing to watch a man and a woman have sex. Yes it’s very erotic but to watch a husband and wife make love takes that experience to another level. The way they look at each other, it was not just sex I was watching, it was love and it was so beautiful! We spent the last few minutes in the most amazing embrace, she on one side of me, he on the other. Their hands gently caressing my stomach as my hands made their way up and down their backs. I watched them look at each other and listened to them declare their love for one another. I envy what they share, their passion and their trust. I don’t live with many regrets in my life but I do regret not fighting for that in my marriage. Yet while that thought saddens me a little, it also solidifies what I want in my life. It’s something we all yearn for, we all want, we all need. And when I am ready for it I sure hope I find it. Love. Unconditional, no holds barred, take me as I am kind of love.
Belle
Our first meet was set up by the lady. She wanted to surprise her husband by giving him his fantasy of walking into the room to find his wife naked in bed with another woman. Who was I not to play along? We spent a few minutes getting to know each other before he was to arrive. We kissed and I knew right then we would have a great time. It wasn’t long before we were naked under the sheets perfecting a most passionate kiss.
We hear the key in the door and the fun begins. He walks in and stops at the foot of the bed. A grin takes over his face, he appears impressed with the conniving ways of his wife. We say a quick hello and I return my lips to the wet ones of the beautiful woman lying beside me. The sheets are drawn, our legs brushing up against each other as we press our bodies close together. I can’t keep my hands from stroking her soft skin. As we kiss I listen to him undressing. I could hear him pull his pants from his legs. He lays them down and I can feel him crawling up from the foot of the bed.
All he does is touch her and she lets out a moan. His hands over her body I then I feel the warm wetness of his tongue directly on my clit. No warning, no working his way to me. He was just there, out of nowhere, tasting me. Our time together that night was nothing short of erotic. Lots of he’s, she’s and me’s followed. She and I pleasing him, him and her were pleasing me. She and I pleasing each other, he and her letting me watch their love making. It was a wonderful night for me, so how could our second time be any better?
An email from him. He wants to surprise his wife this time. They would be spending the evening at a strip club, then returning to the room. The plan…..to have me waiting in the jacuzzi tub upon their return. We met in the afternoon for me to get the room key and the plan was in motion. I spent the whole day thinking about what was to come. I arrived a half hour before they were expected to. I undressed, hid my clothes then drew a nice hot bath. I poured myself a glass of wine and slid myself into the tub.
Right on time, I hear them at the door. The unsuspecting wife makes her way into the bedroom area and I hear them mumble. He asks her to come near him to see something. As she steps closer he opens the French style windows to show her his gift, me! She shrieks and has a puzzled look on her face at first. I imagine with the drinks consumed prior to returning to the hotel her first thought was a dead body in the tub. She looks again and shrieks a much more delighted squeal. Yes, she was definitely surprised and seemingly happy with her gift.
A minute for them to undress and they were lying next to me in the bath. We talk about the planning of the surprise and he tells her how much he loves her. That is what is so amazing about this couple. Their love is so strong it truly is an honor to be asked to share in their most private moments. Her and I kiss, caress and quickly decide this must move to the bed immediately.There was no need to work into the mood as we were all wet and ready before things even got started. She rested her body over mine as we settled in for a very erotic kiss. You know, that kind of kiss you just do not want to end. We make sure he has a great view of this and spend a fair amount of time smiling, pausing to look at each other then back to the kiss.
He takes my thighs into his arms, wraps around them and quickly realizes how wet I am. He takes his time tasting me, nice and slow hitting all the right places in just the right way. My body is sweaty after soaking in the tub so long and makes for smooth gliding as she slides her body against mine.
She works her tongue down from my lips, chasing the beads of sweat that roll from the nape of my neck. I apologize for tasting sweaty but she does not seem to mind. With my eyes closed I focus on their tongues working hard to please me. It amazes me that they have asked me to join them for their pleasure yet they spend so much time pleasing me. He stands up and walks around the bed where I eagerly take him into my mouth as he bends over my body to caress my waist and thighs with his hands. Her moist tongue against my clit, it’s almost unbearable for me.
Then the most amazing sensation I have ever experienced. She kneels at my side on the bed and lowers her pussy to mine. She spreads her lips, I spread mine and her clit presses against mine. Instantly I felt this strong muscle spasm, so strong it hurt but felt so damn good at the same time. I ached so badly to cum like this. I have thought about this very moment many times before but never have I had sex with a woman in such an intense way. She is upright on the bed, I am stretched out flat. Our clits rubbing, our juices mixing together and I watch as she presses harder and harder into my pussy.Her rhythm picks up faster and faster as she lets out desperate moans. My arm wrapped around her thigh, my hand on her perfectly rounded bum, I grab hold and return her thrusts. I can’t hold it, I can’t wait for her. I felt so selfish but she simply drove me crazy. Harder, faster, harder and I was there. It was one of those mind blowing orgasms and it lasted several minutes. I could feel it in my stomach and down to my toes. I could feel my body tremor, if I could only have her feel what I felt that very moment.
With me fully satisfied I felt guilty to have been so selfish. But it ended the most perfect way. I lay next to them on the bed and watched them make love. It is one thing to watch a man and a woman have sex. Yes it’s very erotic but to watch a husband and wife make love takes that experience to another level. The way they look at each other, it was not just sex I was watching, it was love and it was so beautiful! We spent the last few minutes in the most amazing embrace, she on one side of me, he on the other. Their hands gently caressing my stomach as my hands made their way up and down their backs. I watched them look at each other and listened to them declare their love for one another. I envy what they share, their passion and their trust. I don’t live with many regrets in my life but I do regret not fighting for that in my marriage. Yet while that thought saddens me a little, it also solidifies what I want in my life. It’s something we all yearn for, we all want, we all need. And when I am ready for it I sure hope I find it. Love. Unconditional, no holds barred, take me as I am kind of love.
Belle
Phone sex boy
Ok, if you do not remember the Phone Sex Guy, then you have to go back to that blog entry in November and read it before you read this one. Mr. Morals, Mr. Old Fashioned, Mr. So Damn Hot He Drives Me F**** Crazy! He is also Mr. Untouchable. A friend from a different world than this, a friend from my world. You know, my world of laundry and occupation, PTA meetings and coupon cutting. That world where having sex any where but a bed is to be considered dirty, something bad girls do. I think I have established that I am not a bad girl…….haven’t I? Hmmmm. Anyways…..
He called me up out of the blue the other day. It just so happens we are both off work right now and he was wondering if we may grab a movie one night this week. We set it up for last night. He sends me an email in the afternoon asking if he would be safe with me. Poor 'noble' man seems to think I am some savage beast. I assure him I can be a lady when I need to be. I send the reply then chuckle to myself. “Can I?”
So, this is what us women go through when we get ready to meet you men. Each scenario comes with its own set of rules. This night calls for dress down, but not too down. Enough makeup to hide the slight, or not so slight imperfections but not too much where it says “come get me”. No perfume as we all know it is a lure to get you to come closer. Hair must look natural. I can’t appear to have spent any time on it. Showered and shaved. Ok, one can dream…I know it’s a waste of my time thinking he may get that close but hey…..
Nails are done. I’m dressed in a casual but attractive knit sweater and long flared jeans. Winter boots/slight heel. Hair is semi-pulled back, a light coloring on my face. Matching under garments (ok, I can fantasize too!). Condoms, check. Wait a minute. Wrong world. Take them out of purse. Dream some more and put them back in. Grab my smokes and I am off. Damn, I feel giddy like a school girl. Only difference is a school girl has a chance at getting some. I’m giddy over knowing I’m not! Why can’t I be like most normal women?
I get to the theatre and park my car. Light up a smoke and walk to the doors. He’s nowhere to been seen and I stand there like I probably did a dozen times or more some 17 years ago waiting for a tall slender boy with blonde hair who had me thinking I knew what love was all about. Now, 17 years later as I ponder that thought I wished I was still so naïve. He comes walking out to me, we say our hellos and in we go. The movie was great. A Nicholas Cage flick, I am so in love with him! Cage, not the Phone Sex Boy that is.
I hadn’t realized it, but Phone Sex Boy (see, I can write like Belle De Jour) points out that I have a death grip on the popcorn. I promised to be a lady, to behave myself and control my sexual aggressiveness….the popcorn suffered. But my hands were still, something very difficult with Mr. Cage on the screen and Mr. Untouchable beside me. Thankfully the movie was great and it kept me mentally stimulated for the time I sat there.
Movie over, we head to the parking lot which we are parked at opposite ends of. He walks me to my car and I drive him to his. We sit there chatting about life, as we always do. The conversation turns to sex, as it always does. Sound familiar? If not, then you didn’t read my Phone Sex blog like I told you to! He knows just how I ache to be with him. This has been going on between him and me for almost two years now. He finds it funny; I just don’t see the humor. He asks why I have this thing for him, what’s the fascination? I still can’t answer that really, but maybe it is because I know I am protected with him. I want something only because I know I cannot have it. Maybe it’s because he plays hard to get, or in his case impossible to get. I know we will never have sex, it’s not about that at all for me. I just want to feel him touch me. And even more so, to kiss me. Not that hard, crazy ‘we have to have sex now’ kind of kiss, but that soft slow passionate ‘I just need to feel your lips on mine’ kind of kiss.
Somehow the conversation turns to masturbation. I may have been the one to bring that up. Yes, I do believe it was me. Hey, I was in agony there, truly regretting my choice to wear the knit sweater! He tells me he has never watched a woman masturbate. Bingo! I have now found a way in. Masturbation, just like phone sex, is safe. It’s still within the boundaries and does not pose the risk of either of us getting into something we are not ready for. My hand wanders down my thighs as I hum along to the country tune on the radio. I turn my head and ask him if he is okay with where this is going. He smiles and nods his head. “I AM still a man you know!” Whew. I was thinking he might be gay. (Not that there is anything wrong with that!)
I soon learn to regret wearing my slightly tight jeans as well. While I enjoyed writhing my clit against the crotch seam, it made for awkward positioning when trying to masturbate in tight quarters. It’s funny, I haven’t done this sort of thing in many, many years. You know, the school girl movies/sex in the car thing. It was kind of exciting to do what teenagers do. Worrying about that car driving by, employees peering in the windows. Not that the latter would have been a problem as the windows were steamed over before long. He laid my seat back for me and asked if I minded that he watch. Little did he know I was doing this for him, not me. Yes, it felt good but it wouldn’t have felt as good if I didn’t know that he was watching something, being a part of something sexually that he had never been a part of before. Another cherry of his I took.
He raised my sweater and rested it higher on my chest to get a better view. I closed my eyes and let my mind imagine what he was thinking. Any red blooded male would be somewhat turned on by watching a woman masturbate. He was definitely a red blooded male. I’d look at him every once in awhile and just smile. He commented several times about how difficult it was for him to watch, to hold back and not participate. I told him it wouldn’t be so exciting if it was easy. He did offer his hand. He placed it on my knee and began lightly running it up and down my thigh. I finally felt his touch. I didn’t realize how much I needed to feel that, just to know that he did want me even though he could never have me.
His hand worked its way to the opening of my jeans. He held it open for me for a while as I took my time working myself up. Against his better judgment I’m sure, his fingers caressed my skin. I could have cum right then. The nights I have been in bed imagining his fingers taking the place of mine. I removed my hand as his took over. I turned to him again to be sure he wanted this to happen. He smiled so I took it as a yes. I spread my legs for him to work his fingers into me, to feel how wet he makes me. My eyes closed, I let him take me to that place he has unknowingly taken me many times before.
I imagined how I would feel to him. I imagined the battle he was going through. His body telling him he wanted me like I wanted him. His mind telling him to hold back, to stick to what he believes in. And in all of that he is trying to rationalize his boundaries. Just how far can they be pushed? Where does he draw the line and this game of ours is no longer in his comfort zone? I let him take the lead, this is all about him and where he wants it to go.He goes from being soft and cautious to deliberate. He wants me to cum for him and I am ready to give him that. Faster, his hand rubs my clit. He has found the spot, the way I like to be rubbed just so. My hips thrust into his hand over and over. He slides his fingers down and into my wetness. I can’t hold back any longer as I finally release, feeling my muscles tighten around his fingers. He enjoys feeling how wet I am for a few minutes before he removes his hand. I light a smoke and thank him. He leans back on his seat with a bewildered look on his face. I think he’s not too sure how to take me. He's seen Belle’s world. Something far from what is normal for him. He believes sex should always take place in a bed. The things I could teach him! But then, he knows me as most of you do not. Quiet, reserved and shy. He seems confused yet curious about the two. As I am smoking my cigarette I notice just how hard that made him. I reach over to feel him as I look at him to be sure he’s okay with it. He doesn’t resist so I don’t stop.I spent an hour just rubbing him. We didn’t kiss, we didn’t say much either. Every few minutes he’d tell me how hard this was for him and then apologize for not being able to let it go any further. I tell him not to. I find it even more alluring that he does not cave in, not that I would allow it to happen anyways. I respect him too much to cross that line and take advantage of his weakness. He does unbutton his jeans for me. I leaned his seat back for him. I see it in his face, him fighting to not bend the boundaries. I ask him if he is okay to just lay back and relax, to trust that I won’t do anything but what I am doing right then. He lets me take over, closes his eyes and visits that place I was just an hour ago.Again, like the phone sex it sounds so mechanical. There was no kissing, and while I wanted him to kiss me so badly I knew that wouldn’t have been safe for me. There was no sex as he knew that wouldn’t have been safe for him. But again we connected in a way that we got what we needed from each other without going outside of those boundaries. I don’t think anything else beyond what we have experienced together would be as satisfying, physically or emotionally. I never got that kiss but maybe that’s the best part, the fantasizing about what that kiss would be like without ever going there with him.
To share a relationship like this with a friend is something on a whole different realm that what I have ever had before. Don’t we all want that in some way? To be able to explore our passions, yet keep our limits? To see just how far we can push them yet trust each other enough to stop before things have gone too far. Some friends are great coffee partners. Some friends are great f*** buddies and some friends are great to talk to. Then you have friends like Phone Sex Boy who are just great. Great to hang out with, great to sit in the theatre with and great to push your limits with. We spent four hours in that parking lot.
Again, we spent a lot of that time in silence but that silence said everything. It’s not always about what is said but what goes unsaid. It’s those times in silence with him that I learn more about me. I like to give to him these experiences for his personal satisfaction but I know I am the one who walks away more satisfied.
Belle
He called me up out of the blue the other day. It just so happens we are both off work right now and he was wondering if we may grab a movie one night this week. We set it up for last night. He sends me an email in the afternoon asking if he would be safe with me. Poor 'noble' man seems to think I am some savage beast. I assure him I can be a lady when I need to be. I send the reply then chuckle to myself. “Can I?”
So, this is what us women go through when we get ready to meet you men. Each scenario comes with its own set of rules. This night calls for dress down, but not too down. Enough makeup to hide the slight, or not so slight imperfections but not too much where it says “come get me”. No perfume as we all know it is a lure to get you to come closer. Hair must look natural. I can’t appear to have spent any time on it. Showered and shaved. Ok, one can dream…I know it’s a waste of my time thinking he may get that close but hey…..
Nails are done. I’m dressed in a casual but attractive knit sweater and long flared jeans. Winter boots/slight heel. Hair is semi-pulled back, a light coloring on my face. Matching under garments (ok, I can fantasize too!). Condoms, check. Wait a minute. Wrong world. Take them out of purse. Dream some more and put them back in. Grab my smokes and I am off. Damn, I feel giddy like a school girl. Only difference is a school girl has a chance at getting some. I’m giddy over knowing I’m not! Why can’t I be like most normal women?
I get to the theatre and park my car. Light up a smoke and walk to the doors. He’s nowhere to been seen and I stand there like I probably did a dozen times or more some 17 years ago waiting for a tall slender boy with blonde hair who had me thinking I knew what love was all about. Now, 17 years later as I ponder that thought I wished I was still so naïve. He comes walking out to me, we say our hellos and in we go. The movie was great. A Nicholas Cage flick, I am so in love with him! Cage, not the Phone Sex Boy that is.
I hadn’t realized it, but Phone Sex Boy (see, I can write like Belle De Jour) points out that I have a death grip on the popcorn. I promised to be a lady, to behave myself and control my sexual aggressiveness….the popcorn suffered. But my hands were still, something very difficult with Mr. Cage on the screen and Mr. Untouchable beside me. Thankfully the movie was great and it kept me mentally stimulated for the time I sat there.
Movie over, we head to the parking lot which we are parked at opposite ends of. He walks me to my car and I drive him to his. We sit there chatting about life, as we always do. The conversation turns to sex, as it always does. Sound familiar? If not, then you didn’t read my Phone Sex blog like I told you to! He knows just how I ache to be with him. This has been going on between him and me for almost two years now. He finds it funny; I just don’t see the humor. He asks why I have this thing for him, what’s the fascination? I still can’t answer that really, but maybe it is because I know I am protected with him. I want something only because I know I cannot have it. Maybe it’s because he plays hard to get, or in his case impossible to get. I know we will never have sex, it’s not about that at all for me. I just want to feel him touch me. And even more so, to kiss me. Not that hard, crazy ‘we have to have sex now’ kind of kiss, but that soft slow passionate ‘I just need to feel your lips on mine’ kind of kiss.
Somehow the conversation turns to masturbation. I may have been the one to bring that up. Yes, I do believe it was me. Hey, I was in agony there, truly regretting my choice to wear the knit sweater! He tells me he has never watched a woman masturbate. Bingo! I have now found a way in. Masturbation, just like phone sex, is safe. It’s still within the boundaries and does not pose the risk of either of us getting into something we are not ready for. My hand wanders down my thighs as I hum along to the country tune on the radio. I turn my head and ask him if he is okay with where this is going. He smiles and nods his head. “I AM still a man you know!” Whew. I was thinking he might be gay. (Not that there is anything wrong with that!)
I soon learn to regret wearing my slightly tight jeans as well. While I enjoyed writhing my clit against the crotch seam, it made for awkward positioning when trying to masturbate in tight quarters. It’s funny, I haven’t done this sort of thing in many, many years. You know, the school girl movies/sex in the car thing. It was kind of exciting to do what teenagers do. Worrying about that car driving by, employees peering in the windows. Not that the latter would have been a problem as the windows were steamed over before long. He laid my seat back for me and asked if I minded that he watch. Little did he know I was doing this for him, not me. Yes, it felt good but it wouldn’t have felt as good if I didn’t know that he was watching something, being a part of something sexually that he had never been a part of before. Another cherry of his I took.
He raised my sweater and rested it higher on my chest to get a better view. I closed my eyes and let my mind imagine what he was thinking. Any red blooded male would be somewhat turned on by watching a woman masturbate. He was definitely a red blooded male. I’d look at him every once in awhile and just smile. He commented several times about how difficult it was for him to watch, to hold back and not participate. I told him it wouldn’t be so exciting if it was easy. He did offer his hand. He placed it on my knee and began lightly running it up and down my thigh. I finally felt his touch. I didn’t realize how much I needed to feel that, just to know that he did want me even though he could never have me.
His hand worked its way to the opening of my jeans. He held it open for me for a while as I took my time working myself up. Against his better judgment I’m sure, his fingers caressed my skin. I could have cum right then. The nights I have been in bed imagining his fingers taking the place of mine. I removed my hand as his took over. I turned to him again to be sure he wanted this to happen. He smiled so I took it as a yes. I spread my legs for him to work his fingers into me, to feel how wet he makes me. My eyes closed, I let him take me to that place he has unknowingly taken me many times before.
I imagined how I would feel to him. I imagined the battle he was going through. His body telling him he wanted me like I wanted him. His mind telling him to hold back, to stick to what he believes in. And in all of that he is trying to rationalize his boundaries. Just how far can they be pushed? Where does he draw the line and this game of ours is no longer in his comfort zone? I let him take the lead, this is all about him and where he wants it to go.He goes from being soft and cautious to deliberate. He wants me to cum for him and I am ready to give him that. Faster, his hand rubs my clit. He has found the spot, the way I like to be rubbed just so. My hips thrust into his hand over and over. He slides his fingers down and into my wetness. I can’t hold back any longer as I finally release, feeling my muscles tighten around his fingers. He enjoys feeling how wet I am for a few minutes before he removes his hand. I light a smoke and thank him. He leans back on his seat with a bewildered look on his face. I think he’s not too sure how to take me. He's seen Belle’s world. Something far from what is normal for him. He believes sex should always take place in a bed. The things I could teach him! But then, he knows me as most of you do not. Quiet, reserved and shy. He seems confused yet curious about the two. As I am smoking my cigarette I notice just how hard that made him. I reach over to feel him as I look at him to be sure he’s okay with it. He doesn’t resist so I don’t stop.I spent an hour just rubbing him. We didn’t kiss, we didn’t say much either. Every few minutes he’d tell me how hard this was for him and then apologize for not being able to let it go any further. I tell him not to. I find it even more alluring that he does not cave in, not that I would allow it to happen anyways. I respect him too much to cross that line and take advantage of his weakness. He does unbutton his jeans for me. I leaned his seat back for him. I see it in his face, him fighting to not bend the boundaries. I ask him if he is okay to just lay back and relax, to trust that I won’t do anything but what I am doing right then. He lets me take over, closes his eyes and visits that place I was just an hour ago.Again, like the phone sex it sounds so mechanical. There was no kissing, and while I wanted him to kiss me so badly I knew that wouldn’t have been safe for me. There was no sex as he knew that wouldn’t have been safe for him. But again we connected in a way that we got what we needed from each other without going outside of those boundaries. I don’t think anything else beyond what we have experienced together would be as satisfying, physically or emotionally. I never got that kiss but maybe that’s the best part, the fantasizing about what that kiss would be like without ever going there with him.
To share a relationship like this with a friend is something on a whole different realm that what I have ever had before. Don’t we all want that in some way? To be able to explore our passions, yet keep our limits? To see just how far we can push them yet trust each other enough to stop before things have gone too far. Some friends are great coffee partners. Some friends are great f*** buddies and some friends are great to talk to. Then you have friends like Phone Sex Boy who are just great. Great to hang out with, great to sit in the theatre with and great to push your limits with. We spent four hours in that parking lot.
Again, we spent a lot of that time in silence but that silence said everything. It’s not always about what is said but what goes unsaid. It’s those times in silence with him that I learn more about me. I like to give to him these experiences for his personal satisfaction but I know I am the one who walks away more satisfied.
Belle
I've had my moments
A few weeks ago I was on my way to St. Catharines and a song came on the radio. I had never heard it before but the lyrics have played over in my head. It is about a man walking across a bridge, he’s ready to end his life. He is followed by a homeless man so he reaches into his pocket to give him the change that he won’t be using anyways. The homeless man says to him “Looking at me you wouldn’t know it but I’ve had my moments. I haven’t always been this way. Moments like when my son was born, the plane ride coming home from the war…I’ve had my moments.” It is a beautiful song and for some reason it touched me. (It’s called “Moments” by Emerson Drive).
I went to the Seneca Casino a couple of nights ago to spend the night. As you know, I do not like to drive so I was dropped off at the Canadian side of the border and walked with my shoulder bag and my laptop across the bridge. It was about 6pm, just beginning to get dark. I passed through customs and headed for the casino, only a ten minute walk or so. Just up the street I passed a black man. I looked at him and nodded as I walked past and he stopped. He said “excuse me ma’am, no need to be afraid of a black man.” I wasn’t sure what to say but apologized for appearing to be afraid of him.
We stood there on the sidewalk, a few feet from each other as he told me of how he stopped a woman up the street to say ‘Hello’ and she cursed him, calling him ignorant names. I then apologized for her behavior as well. We talked a minute about race and society as he fidgeted with a manila envelope he was carrying. He told me he was a 50 year old man and that he was not a bum. He told me about his family, talked a little about God and then began to explain the welfare system in New York.
I thought of this song that for some reason stuck in my head the first time I had heard it. The words were so profound, and as this man was telling me his story I swear I could hear it playing. I’d hate to sound like ‘one of those people’ but it was like a sign telling me to help this man. He told me how welfare could not give him money without a mailing address and proof that he paid to live there. He then told me that the YMCA had a program for the homeless and that they rent rooms out at the rate of $14 per night, and they would allow him to use their address to collect welfare.
Ok, I know where this is going and what he was asking me. And he could have been shooting me a line of crap, but my instincts told me he was sincere. And while he was talking to me I was uncomfortable. Not so much of him, for some reason I did not fear my safety with him. But then society came in to play. I thought, if I am to give him money I will have to put my laptop on the ground. Someone might steal it. I then have to open up my shoulder bag where I would find my purse. I would have to kneel on the ground to go through my bag and this would leave me vulnerable to anyone who would consider taking advantage of me. I am in heeled boots, I cannot run. I left my cell phone at home, I have no way to call for help.
I told this man that I did not have any money with me, just my credit card, and I walked away. And it was then that I realized jut how ignorant society has made me. Yes, this man could have just run off to the closest liquor store for a cheap bottle of booze, but he could have run to the YMCA for a warm place to sleep too. I felt so ashamed for walking away from him. I walked away with $800 American in my wallet and I did not give this man a dime. I am angry that I worried about my laptop being stolen and did not concern myself with where this man was going to sleep that night. I tell myself that if I had a car and someone else with me I would have driven him to the Y and given him the money for a few nights stay but that doesn’t matter. I still turned on him and walked away.
How cold have we become? How did it come to be that we are so selfish, so fearful to trust others? I know it’s scary out there, but to turn away from someone who has nothing when I have so much makes me feel ill. I am disappointed with myself. Me, of all people, who fights everyday to stop people from judging me and I sat there with judgment in my own eyes. I will never know if he was kept warm that night or if he shivered in a park somewhere alone. I cannot help feeling that I could have helped him but was too damned selfish to do so.
I will not be able to make it up to him. I cannot take back the fact that I walked away. But after I got home I thought a lot about what I could do. Not to make myself feel better, not to redeem myself in any way but to help someone else who might show up on the doors of the YMCA and be told they need $14 to stay warm. I want to visit the Y, the next time I can get there and offer to donate $300 just for this purpose, to use at their discretion. I am sure many abuse the system, It an unfortunate reality. But if the Y feels someone is down on luck and truly need a place to sleep, a warm blanket to cover them for the night that they could take it out of my donation. I am not too sure if they would do this, but it doesn’t hurt to ask.I don’t want to walk away again. It is so disheartening that we live in the world that we do today. People are hungry and cold and we keep on walking. It’s wrong, it’s just so damn wrong.
Belle
I went to the Seneca Casino a couple of nights ago to spend the night. As you know, I do not like to drive so I was dropped off at the Canadian side of the border and walked with my shoulder bag and my laptop across the bridge. It was about 6pm, just beginning to get dark. I passed through customs and headed for the casino, only a ten minute walk or so. Just up the street I passed a black man. I looked at him and nodded as I walked past and he stopped. He said “excuse me ma’am, no need to be afraid of a black man.” I wasn’t sure what to say but apologized for appearing to be afraid of him.
We stood there on the sidewalk, a few feet from each other as he told me of how he stopped a woman up the street to say ‘Hello’ and she cursed him, calling him ignorant names. I then apologized for her behavior as well. We talked a minute about race and society as he fidgeted with a manila envelope he was carrying. He told me he was a 50 year old man and that he was not a bum. He told me about his family, talked a little about God and then began to explain the welfare system in New York.
I thought of this song that for some reason stuck in my head the first time I had heard it. The words were so profound, and as this man was telling me his story I swear I could hear it playing. I’d hate to sound like ‘one of those people’ but it was like a sign telling me to help this man. He told me how welfare could not give him money without a mailing address and proof that he paid to live there. He then told me that the YMCA had a program for the homeless and that they rent rooms out at the rate of $14 per night, and they would allow him to use their address to collect welfare.
Ok, I know where this is going and what he was asking me. And he could have been shooting me a line of crap, but my instincts told me he was sincere. And while he was talking to me I was uncomfortable. Not so much of him, for some reason I did not fear my safety with him. But then society came in to play. I thought, if I am to give him money I will have to put my laptop on the ground. Someone might steal it. I then have to open up my shoulder bag where I would find my purse. I would have to kneel on the ground to go through my bag and this would leave me vulnerable to anyone who would consider taking advantage of me. I am in heeled boots, I cannot run. I left my cell phone at home, I have no way to call for help.
I told this man that I did not have any money with me, just my credit card, and I walked away. And it was then that I realized jut how ignorant society has made me. Yes, this man could have just run off to the closest liquor store for a cheap bottle of booze, but he could have run to the YMCA for a warm place to sleep too. I felt so ashamed for walking away from him. I walked away with $800 American in my wallet and I did not give this man a dime. I am angry that I worried about my laptop being stolen and did not concern myself with where this man was going to sleep that night. I tell myself that if I had a car and someone else with me I would have driven him to the Y and given him the money for a few nights stay but that doesn’t matter. I still turned on him and walked away.
How cold have we become? How did it come to be that we are so selfish, so fearful to trust others? I know it’s scary out there, but to turn away from someone who has nothing when I have so much makes me feel ill. I am disappointed with myself. Me, of all people, who fights everyday to stop people from judging me and I sat there with judgment in my own eyes. I will never know if he was kept warm that night or if he shivered in a park somewhere alone. I cannot help feeling that I could have helped him but was too damned selfish to do so.
I will not be able to make it up to him. I cannot take back the fact that I walked away. But after I got home I thought a lot about what I could do. Not to make myself feel better, not to redeem myself in any way but to help someone else who might show up on the doors of the YMCA and be told they need $14 to stay warm. I want to visit the Y, the next time I can get there and offer to donate $300 just for this purpose, to use at their discretion. I am sure many abuse the system, It an unfortunate reality. But if the Y feels someone is down on luck and truly need a place to sleep, a warm blanket to cover them for the night that they could take it out of my donation. I am not too sure if they would do this, but it doesn’t hurt to ask.I don’t want to walk away again. It is so disheartening that we live in the world that we do today. People are hungry and cold and we keep on walking. It’s wrong, it’s just so damn wrong.
Belle
I can dance! Ok, not really, but....
If you remember, I wrote a blog back in November about Lee Anne Womack’s song, “I hope you dance”. It’s about not being bitter, not taking the easy road and not being scared to live. That has been my fault in life. Being afraid to take chances, afraid to make mistakes and afraid to live. I listen to that song almost every day. It is a reminder of who I am striving to be. The good news is….I’m getting there.
I experienced something in my travels recently, something I have never felt free enough to do. I danced. Yes, for hours I danced. No humility, no holding back. I danced song after song after song and I had never felt that free in my life. Ok, to the eye of someone with rhythm it might not have been considered dancing, but for me it was just that.Not a big deal for most of you I am sure, but monumental for me. I have never danced before. Ok, I danced to “Stairway to heaven” at my high school sweetheart’s prom (who didn’t dance to that song at some time in their life?), and I danced to my wedding song (which I stumbled through somehow). That is twice that I have danced in my 32.5 years. To humiliate myself in front of others, why would I?
I had even taken a few salsa lessons in the past year after a trip to the Dominican, which gave me the desire to finally learn how to dance. Eight lessons later I was told that I am….how did he put it? ...... “Unteachable”. Yes, a dance instructor told me after eight private lessons that I am unteachable. Is that even a word? Yes, he still took my money and no, I don’t blame him as it’s true….I have two left feet. I cannot lead, I cannot follow…I simply cannot dance.But this night was different. Yes, I still looked like an ass because I can’t dance, don’t get me wrong, but I did it anyway. The music was just right, the people in the bar were all having a great time and I just couldn’t sit there and watch this time. I think the best part was that I wasn’t even intoxicated.
It was just me, taking one more step down this road I’ve been traveling. Letting go and doing something I have so desperately wanted to do. And once I got started, I couldn’t stop. I don’t think that I have ever been happier with me, just as I am, as I was that night.Just imagine that feeling. I wish I could explain it to you, to have you feel how I felt right then. That one thing that has terrified you all of your life, and you overcome it. Imagine how that would feel. The feeling of accomplishment, the sense of, “Oh my God, I just did it, and it felt so damn good!” I wasn’t embarrassed when I ran up to complete strangers and joined in their dance with them.
I wasn’t embarrassed when I saw the shy woman in the crowd and pulled her up to dance with me. I wasn’t embarrassed to request they play ‘Oh Canada’ for me, and then teach everyone how to sing it! I wasn’t embarrassed that I was soaked in sweat because I just couldn’t stop, dancing to every song hour after hour. I should have been, but the greatest thing is…I wasn’t!
I have spent my adult life worrying about what other people thought of me, but for some reason this night I just let it go. I didn’t care what they thought. For once it wasn’t about them, it was about me. I hope all of you get to feel that one day, if you haven’t already. I know it was just dancing, but what it stood for was so much more. All of this, everything you read about in my blog, it’s all about taking me to where I want to be, who I want to be, who I know I am, to somewhere within. That’s what all of this stands for.I am finally learning to be true to myself. And times like this that I can just let go of everything negative and be there in that moment…..I know I’m finally headed in the right direction.
I’m on the right path and I can’t wait to see where it takes me. I look forward to tomorrow because I know there is something new, something exciting, just something out there waiting for me. It’s great to feel that hope for something again. It’s been a long time.
Belle
I experienced something in my travels recently, something I have never felt free enough to do. I danced. Yes, for hours I danced. No humility, no holding back. I danced song after song after song and I had never felt that free in my life. Ok, to the eye of someone with rhythm it might not have been considered dancing, but for me it was just that.Not a big deal for most of you I am sure, but monumental for me. I have never danced before. Ok, I danced to “Stairway to heaven” at my high school sweetheart’s prom (who didn’t dance to that song at some time in their life?), and I danced to my wedding song (which I stumbled through somehow). That is twice that I have danced in my 32.5 years. To humiliate myself in front of others, why would I?
I had even taken a few salsa lessons in the past year after a trip to the Dominican, which gave me the desire to finally learn how to dance. Eight lessons later I was told that I am….how did he put it? ...... “Unteachable”. Yes, a dance instructor told me after eight private lessons that I am unteachable. Is that even a word? Yes, he still took my money and no, I don’t blame him as it’s true….I have two left feet. I cannot lead, I cannot follow…I simply cannot dance.But this night was different. Yes, I still looked like an ass because I can’t dance, don’t get me wrong, but I did it anyway. The music was just right, the people in the bar were all having a great time and I just couldn’t sit there and watch this time. I think the best part was that I wasn’t even intoxicated.
It was just me, taking one more step down this road I’ve been traveling. Letting go and doing something I have so desperately wanted to do. And once I got started, I couldn’t stop. I don’t think that I have ever been happier with me, just as I am, as I was that night.Just imagine that feeling. I wish I could explain it to you, to have you feel how I felt right then. That one thing that has terrified you all of your life, and you overcome it. Imagine how that would feel. The feeling of accomplishment, the sense of, “Oh my God, I just did it, and it felt so damn good!” I wasn’t embarrassed when I ran up to complete strangers and joined in their dance with them.
I wasn’t embarrassed when I saw the shy woman in the crowd and pulled her up to dance with me. I wasn’t embarrassed to request they play ‘Oh Canada’ for me, and then teach everyone how to sing it! I wasn’t embarrassed that I was soaked in sweat because I just couldn’t stop, dancing to every song hour after hour. I should have been, but the greatest thing is…I wasn’t!
I have spent my adult life worrying about what other people thought of me, but for some reason this night I just let it go. I didn’t care what they thought. For once it wasn’t about them, it was about me. I hope all of you get to feel that one day, if you haven’t already. I know it was just dancing, but what it stood for was so much more. All of this, everything you read about in my blog, it’s all about taking me to where I want to be, who I want to be, who I know I am, to somewhere within. That’s what all of this stands for.I am finally learning to be true to myself. And times like this that I can just let go of everything negative and be there in that moment…..I know I’m finally headed in the right direction.
I’m on the right path and I can’t wait to see where it takes me. I look forward to tomorrow because I know there is something new, something exciting, just something out there waiting for me. It’s great to feel that hope for something again. It’s been a long time.
Belle
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