Posts Tagged ‘morality’

Junk Science

Garbage In/Garbage Out

Most of us in this arena were around for the sturm und drang surrounding the shutdown of the Craigslist Erotic Services section. The justification for the assault on hooker ads was, of course, sex trafficking. We must shut down hooker ads. For the children.

Of course, with this seeming victory under their belt, the ‘for the children,’ anti-trafficking crusaders were just emboldened to go further and further. So now we’re more often seeing sex work prohibitionists using the same tired, discredited points. Trafficking! Underage trafficking! White slavery!

The problem, we’re told, is that child prostitution is increasing at a geometric rate. One of the primary groups pounding this drumbeat warns us in dire terms that anywhere from 100,000 to almost half a million girls a year are being lured into sex slavery. The rate of underage girls being trafficked has risen by an astonishing 64.7% in Minnesota alone, they tell us. These shocking revelations are then repeated by the press as if they were accurate. When in fact, they couldn’t be further from the truth.

It’s junk science. The numbers are all guesses. In some cases, they arrived at their foregone conclusions merely by looking at pictures of sex workers posted online. That’s right. If you’re an adult female who just happens to be petite, thin and flat chested, chances are these self appointed guardians of morality counted you as a trafficked, pimped underage child.

And worse, they know the numbers are faked. The director of an Atlanta based anti-prostitution group says “we pitch it the way we think you’re going to read it and pick up on it… If we give it to you with all the words and the stuff that is actually accurate—I mean, I’ve tried to do that with our PR firm, and they say, ‘They won’t read that much.'”
They know that the more salacious the claim, the more likely it is to be picked up and perpetuated in the media… and the more likely they are to continue to receive funding. That’s right. It’s all about money. They’re consciously using sex workers to make money. Funny, there’s a word for someone who makes money from the labors of sex workers: “pimp.” Look at some of the corporate sponsors lining up to give funding to anti-prostitution groups based on junk science, faulty research and outright deception: Southwest Airlines, Merril Lynch/Bank of America, Goldman Sachs, American Express, the Ms. Foundation for Women, and many more. Lying about sex workers is a cash grab scam… er, lucrative business.

Real Men Don’t Listen to Ashton Kutcher

Of course, when we talk about junk reporting regarding sex workers, we have to talk about the latest self-seving publicity campaign from Ashton Kutcher and Demi Moore and their “Real men don’t buy girls” campaign.

Taking the puritanical charlatans at face value, Ashton has gathered all his celebrity pals to do public service announcements (I wonder how many of those fulfill court ordered community service?) to let us know that prostitution = slavery. Ironic, considering that neither Ashton nor Demi have shied away from exploiting sex work for their own gain. Demi famously went so far as to have her boobs plumped to portray a stripper in 1996’s Striptease, playing a variation on the ‘hooker with a heart of gold.’ And it 2009, Ashton himself, opposed as he is on general principle to any sort of sex work, starred in Spread, a movie where he plays a guy with nothing going for him except a big dick, which he uses to trade sex for housing from lonely Hollywood sugar mamas. Hate to break it to you Ash, you’re a whore. So once again, it’s OK when you’re making a buck from sex work, but it’s not OK when actual sex workers do it.

What’s dangerous about the Ashton & Demi campaign is how cavalierly it equates sex work to slavery. It does a huge disservice to sex workers, but worse (much worse) it completely trivializes real slavery.

Look, I’m just a guy who likes to fuck hookers (yet another reason I’ll never be President.) And I’m going to continue to fuck hookers, whether busybody social do-gooders or Hollywood celebrities like it or not. That’s right, I’m going to continue to fuck willing, consenting adults in exchange for money. And frankly, if Ashton wasn’t so Demi-whipped, he’d probably be doing the same. Hmmm… I wonder if those PSAs aren’t Ashton’s Demi-ordered community service for getting caught banging some stripper? Just asking questions.

I’m not a sociologist, I’m not a researcher, I’m not a crusader.But there are real researchers, real advocates, real scholars who are looking at this data and calling “bullshit.” Before you fall for their line of bullshit, before you let yourself– whether on the supply or demand side of the equation– be stigmatized by someone whose twin motivations are to legislate their own brand of morality and enrich themselves in the process, do your own research. It’s out there. Call into question those who would brand you as worse than criminal based on lies told for profit.

Good deeds.

I like a woman who can treat the globes right

A little bit about me.

It may or may not surprise some of you to know that I have a life beyond this hooker fucking persona. And it may (or may not) surprise you to find out that I’m in the legal profession. Sure, you pretty much can’t throw a stick around here without hitting a lawyer (and getting sued for reckless stick throwing).

Some background. I got my undergraduate degree at a well known top tier university in the southeast, then a Juris Doctor from a prestigious law school on the east coast. I went to work in the office of a state legislator then spent some time working as a criminal prosecutor in a large city on the coast. It was through some of my law school contacts and legislative contacts that I became involved early on in campaigning for Bill Clinton. Back then, a lot of people in the campaign, specially those who knew Bill and Hillary, joked that the wrong Clinton was running.

As a result and reward for my work on the campaign, when Bill Clinton was elected, I was swept along as part of the new ‘youth wave’ hitting Washington, D.C. Of course, “youth” was a relative term, as none of us were really kids. I worked briefly for Bernard Nussbaum in the  office of the White House Counsel, then transitioned over to the Justice Department. Working for the Clinton administration in the DOJ, I was a key part of some very high profile prosecutions.

By the end of Clinton’s first term, I’d had quite enough of Washington, and left the DOJ to come back to Los Angeles. Here, I joined a large firm, and this being L.A. a fair percentage of my clients were movie people. It wasn’t where I intended to end up back when I was an idealistic young law student out to change the world for the better, but I’ve settled into a nice little practice in entertainment law, mostly contracts and negotiations.

Of course, none of that is true*. And if you read just those first four paragraphs –and believed them– and took legal advice from me because you believed them, you would be an idiot. My legal advice isn’t going to keep you out of jail, my legal advice isn’t going to get you out of jail, my legal advice isn’t going to keep you safe in any way. Just because I can create a detailed fiction on the Internet doesn’t mean I can represent you in court. Because I am not a real lawyer**.

You wouldn’t — shouldn’t– take legal advice from Some Guy on the Internet claiming legal know-how without the credentials to back it up.  So why then would you take advice from someone claiming to be an escort, claiming to be a stripper, claiming to be a porn star or activist or sexologist without the credentials — and the credibility– to back up those claims?

We all know, it’s pretty well documented, that there are a lot of fakes out there. Even after all the revelations and recriminations, just a few days ago, once again someone with no verifiable credentials was offering advice on how to successfully increase your escorting business and how to safely hire an escort. Hey, why not? You’ll take legal advice from me, why not take escorting advice from a non-entity?

So, who can you trust?

Just as you’d do your homework when looking to hire an accountant, a doctor or a mechanic, you have to do your homework when looking for advice that’s going to keep you out of jail, keep you from being ripped off, keep you from being assaulted. There is a treasure trove of valuable, reliable information on the hooker/”hobbyist” interaction. There are quite a few sex workers out there who have selflessly given of themselves to make things better for others in the biz. They give of their bodies for their clients; they give of their time, effort and hearts to keep other sex workers safe.

First up, if you’re an escort, a real honest-to-goodness legitimate working escort and you need to know anything about how to operate or improve your business, you need look no further than Amanda Brooks and her Internet Escort’s Handbook. This is the resource on the business of escort work. Amanda Brooks has been out in front of the business side of escorting and offers serious, yet bawdy advice on how to run your sex-oriented small business successfully.

I can’t think of anyone who’s been more on the side of sex workers of all stripes, but specifically hookers than Jenny DeMilo. Jenny seems to go out of her way to make sure dirty girls are safe and treated with respect. Whether it’s offering insight into what it’s like to be a hooker or how to stay safe if you are one, Jenny is the go-to source. On her blog and on various message boards, Jenny offers information on almost any topic imaginable related to sex work. She’s often brash, sometimes vulgar, always informative. Jenny doesn’t suffer fools gladly, but it’s a tough business, not for the frail or easily offended. Jenny DeMilo takes the hits, frequently becoming the target of attacks, and she does it because she really believes in giving back to her community, looking out for her friends and that only armed with knowledge can one overcome a dangerous world. And she’s sexy as hell to boot.

Another powerful advocate for sex workers is the Chicago based Serpent Libertine and her Red Light District. The Red Light District/Chicago website reports on legal issues and sex worker rights advocacy. Armed with a video camera and an incisive sense of what’s right they are on the frontlines of the sex work industry. Serpent Libertine is an invaluable supporter of free speech and sex workers’ legal rights.

How many real live sex workers do you know who recently spoke at Brown University on sex work: culture laws & politics? The only one that comes to mind is Sequoia Redd. Sequoia gives of herself to better the lives of sex workers. In addition to sex worker advocacy, she writes about sexual energy, politics and hiking the Appalachian Trail. That last one isn’t some sort of Republican euphemism, she really hiked the Appalachian Trail.

For sex workers of a different sort — strippers– the inimitable Kat from Portland has your back.  Kat looks out for strippers and more. Like so many others, she realizes the interconnectedness of everyone involved in legal, quasi-legal and downright illegal sex work. Strip clubs may have bouncers, but outside the club all bets are off.

While others only pretend to be sex experts, educators or academics, Jessi Fischer at The Sexademic is the real deal. Anyone on the Internet can hide behind a sassy screen name and claim degrees and titles, but Jessi is out in the open, no obfuscation, no pretense. With a Masters in Sexuality Studies, The Sexademic is a real, by-gosh educator, not just someone trying to bolster false credentials.

There are more, much more, many more. What all of these people have in common is that they are real, they are in the field and they are looking out for you. They are every day taking the hard fought, hard won skills, knowledge and experience of the real world of sex work and laying it out on the line for you, the “hobbyist”, the escort, the newbie just dipping a toe in the dirty waters. Why do they do it? I’m sure if you asked any of them you’d get a variety of reasons. But the bottom line, I think is that they are people who think of others as they think of themselves.

As for me, no I’m not a lawyer**. And maybe I’m not really a Doctor, either. Maybe it’s just an honorary title. No, I’m just a guy who fucks hookers and writes about it on the Internet. Sure, I’ll give you advice on how to find ’em, what to do when you’ve found ’em and how not to get caught while you’re doing it. But if you do or don’t take my advice, no harm, no foul. I don’t know you, you don’t know me, you’re free to take my advice or not and you won’t hurt my feelings either way. Sure, if you don’t take my advice and your wife catches you balls deep in some rented pussy, you’ll earn a big-ass “I told you so” from me. I’ll call you a dumbass. But then again, if you weren’t a dumbass you wouldn’t have done some dumbass thing to get yourself caught. But that’s the extent of it. You’re on your own as far as I’m concerned. But if you’re an escort, stripper, or any other flavor of sex worker, you need to know who you can trust. You need to know because your freedom, your safety,your business and possibly your life may depend on it. Are you going to trust all of that to ‘Some Girl’ with a blog? If you want real information, real advice, real education, look at those links above.

They’re the real deal. Verifiable, reviewed, respected.

* Or is it?

**Or am I?

In other news… strippers

What's with the strippers? Where's the hookers?

What? What’s this? Isn’t this a blog about fucking hookers? Yeah, I know, it’s supposed to be all about hookers. Hell, it even says “Hooker” right up there in the title, don’t it? Stick with me a bit. I think there’s a lot of crossover.

The picture of the lovely ladies at the left of this column is from a news article published over at FOXNews.com. On it’s face, it’s a slightly amusing bit of human-interest. Y’know, the sort of thing Fox News does so well. What? Stop rolling your eyes at me!

Bikini Clad Strippers Take on Church in Ohio. Who doesn’t like a good turning-the-tables-on-the-establishment kinda story? The background to the story is fairly straightforward. A fire & brimstone fundamentalist preacher has been targeting the local strip club, staging protests and pickets by church members against the sin in their midst. The club owner says he’s met privately with the minister, seeking some sort of truce, to no avail. As a last resort, the strippers use the holy-rollers’ own tactics against them and stage their own protest in front of the church, carrying signs with scripture verses.

So other than dueling demonstrations, what makes this story interesting?

Strippers dressed in bikinis sunbathe in lawn chairs, their backs turned toward the gray clapboard church where men in ties and women in full-length skirts flock to Sunday morning services.

The strippers, fueled by Cheetos and nicotine, are protesting a fundamental Christian church whose Bible-brandishing congregants have picketed the club where they work. The dancers roll up with signs carrying messages adapted from Scripture, such as “Do unto others as you would have done unto you,” to counter church members who for four years have photographed license plates of patrons and asked them if their mothers and wives know their whereabouts.

fueled by Cheetos and nicotine…

In other words, fat. Just a bunch of fat bimbos who sit around drinking and smoking when they’re not being nasty whores who take off their clothes to tempt the otherwise good, God-fearing men of central Ohio. I know, I’m extrapolating, but I think it’s warranted. Why else would that particular turn of phrase be there? What does “fueled by Cheetos and nicotine” have to do with the story of the counter-protest? What does it add to the factual reporting? But it sure does paint a mental picture for the Fox News reader, doesn’t it? You can just picture those ugly fat strippers stuffing themselves with cheesy poofs and chain smoking. Which is in stark contrast to the description of the pious church goers, “men in ties and women in full-length skirts.” How virtuous.

But there’s more. As the ‘reporter’ so deftly points out to us, they’re old, too.

“…stage age 36 but really 42…”

And, of course, they lie about their age. Old, fat, chain-smoking liars. Someone who would lie, who would sell their morals for a few dollars, someone devoid of any socially redeeming qualities. But enough about Fox News…

I mentioned at the top that I thought there was some crossover from this story to the world of online escort message boards. When escorts on the boards are attacked by “hobbyists” (and they often are) it’s frequently, as in the case of these protesters, because they had the temerity to stand up for themselves, to defend themselves from those who hold themselves out to be morally superior. Whether it’s strippers in central Ohio, or hookers in L.A. these are sex workers. Sure, they’re of a different stripe, they work in related yet different arenas. But the constant remains, these are women who’s salable commodity is themselves. When your product, as it were, is you, every attack is a personal attack.
Go to any “hobbyist” message board, and you’ll likely see the same line of attack directed at some escort. She’s fat, she’s nasty, she’s got a big mouth. And the worst sin of all, she’s lying about her age.

The self righteous pastor of the church objecting to the local strip club is a classic hobbyist. He’s morally superior, he has the authority of his position on his side. Hell, his church isn’t even in the same neighborhood as the strip club, it’s miles away, yet he feels it’s his duty to give his unsolicited opinion about right & wrong. He’s been called by God Himself to destroy the livelihoods of these women, to conquer the sin of making a living. Personally of course, I wonder why God would task him with closing a ramshackle strip club instead of putting an end to hunger or war or disease. Instead he’s determined to eradicate the sin of… women being able to support themselves and feed their families.
But if the pastor is an archetypal “hobbyist”, the Fox “News” reporter almost certainly is an active participant. He knows the buttons to push. He knows exactly how to lash out to belittle and dehumanize these sex workers. He knows to go after their self esteem, their sense of self worth. He’s called a hooker a fat old whore on some message board somewhere.

It’s little wonder then, that message board warriors feel emboldened, feel that it’s acceptable to treat human beings as, well… less than. This is the message that’s being reinforced in the mainstream news media. It’s less surprising when one considers that the average message board “hobbyist” is a Fox News viewer. So when a ‘reporter’ uses cleverly crafted catchphrases, they can easily hear the dog whistle.

How did I get here?

Well... how did I get here?

I’ve been struggling with an injury lately. How it happened isn’t really important. Maybe it was a sports injury, maybe it was work-related. Maybe I threw my back out trying to lift up my massive gut to reach my dick. Whatever, it’s not important. The point is, I was undergoing a bit of physical therapy for my fat/dick- related injury. And as my massage therapist Helga was working through my corpulence to get to the root of my injury, I found myself fantasizing about her working through my corpulence to get to my root.

Now, I haven’t been to an AMP in a long time. The so-called ‘massage parlor’ where the massage was just a pretense for the happy ending. The rub n’ tug joint. But that’s often the first entry into the “hobby” most guys have. There seems to be a progression. From strip club to massage parlors to escorts.

I spent a lot of time exploring strip clubs. I remember one stretch of highway in my hometown where there were about a half a dozen strip clubs of varying degrees of class and quality. I would start at one end of the road with the dark, dank dive bar; the one with the pool table and the lackluster stripper with the Harley-Davidson tattoo across her chest. Then I’d move on to the one with the strobe lights and the glittery swing on stage. I’d end up at the far end of the spectrum at the Showgirls-esque club with featured “acts.”

Yeah... it was just like that

True story: I saw a featured stripper there who had a whole ‘nautical’ act. She had props and costumes, all in a vague naval theme. Sailor cap, cutaway bellbottoms, anchors. Sexy anchors. She danced a set to songs like “Blue, Navy Blue” and “Sea Cruise.” Hot.

But eventually, as most guys do, I grew tired of the ‘look don’t touch’ aspect of the clubs and started looking for more.  My hometown had lingerie modeling joints. You’d pay your door fee, go into a small room, “get comfortable,” and a ‘model’ would pose in scanty lingerie. Of course, for an additional tip she would, y’know… do things. From there, I progressed to cruising the boulevard for streetwalkers, always more afraid of them than they were of me.

Fast forward to the internet age and here I am, a grizzled veteran of the online hooker review boards.

What I am is what I am.

So what would lead an otherwise happily married man with 3 kids, a dog and a fish, a happy home in the suburbs and a  minivan in the garage to go cruising for strippers and hookers?

Ask any “hobbyist” and you’ll hear a litany of excuses, usually centering around the failings of their wives. The conventional wisdom is that if they were getting it at home they wouldn’t need to look  for it on the street. Well, sure, it’s not their fault, it’s their wives. Look, way back when, as I was driving up and down the streets at midnight, picking up scrawny girls for quickie handjobs in my car, I had a freaky, sexy, willing girlfriend waiting at home for me. And when I say freaky, I mean choking, slapping, swinging freaky. She was totally hot, totally willing and totally available. Yet I was fascinated by the world of sex out there.

I’m no saint, never claimed to be. Nice guy? I try. I have to try. Being an asshole is effortless. I’ve been fucking hookers of all stripes for years, with no end in sight. And it’s not, never has been, because of a failing on the part of my partner. It’s me.

This is what those guys slapping each other on the back about banging hookers won’t admit. They like fucking hookers. They would be fucking hookers if they were single. They would be fucking hookers if they were married to sex kittens. They would be fucking hookers if they were married to other hookers. The guys who spend hour after hour after hour online looking for hookers, flirting with hookers, making dates with hookers and writing reviews of fucking hookers… yeah, those guys re only doing it because the cold, distant, harpies they’re married to won’t blow them anymore. Right?

I don’t —we don’t– pay for pussy because the wife won’t pay attention. That’s just another deflection. Another way of placing blame with someone else. Another way of absolving ourselves of responsibility for our own actions. Hey, it’s not my fault I pay to get my dick sucked, it’s yours! Well, guess what? That’s bullshit. It’s my dick, and it’s entirely up to me who I stick it in.

Yeah, there are miserable, shrewish, frigid wives. There are wives who don’t like sex. There are wives who are emasculating bitches. And it’s still your choice to seek out strange pussy. You don’t do it because of the wife, the kids, the job. You do it because you like pussy, all kinds of pussy. The key indicator is that most of us “hobbyists” don’t just quietly, discreetly see the occasional paid companion to while away an hour or two of shared intimacy. The hardcore “hobbyist” has made the flirting, bantering, and jockeying for ‘position’ just as important as the actual in-out. You don’t spend hours chatting with hookers online because your wife won’t suck your dick. You don’t write dozens of goddam reviews highlighting your sexual prowess with hookers because your wife is too busy with the kids. And y’know what? Maybe if you didn’t spend hours chatting with hookers online your wife might be more willing to suck your dick for free.

Choke me in the shallow water, before I get too deep.

In among the wolves.

Keeping an eye on you.

As most of you who have blogs or websites know, we can see where the clicks to our sites are coming from.There are stat trackers galore and even the most basic blogging package has a hit counter of some sort. For example, I can see what websites I’m being linked to, I can see what web search terms people are using to stumble upon my little corner of the web.

Yeah, I can see that the most common search term used to direct traffic to the ol’ Hooker Addict is tied in to an essay I wrote some 5-6 months ago. For some reason, the topic refuses to die. I can see that I’m still getting traffic from a comment I posted on another blog months ago. And I guess I should be flattered that people searching for “huge cock” are being directed to me.

And I can see when you guys are talking about me on your message boards.

Because I’m one of you.

That’s right guys. I’m on your message boards, I’m in your private clubs, I’m on the ‘men only’ boards.

I wrote not too long ago about the social horror of the Hooker/Hobbyist Meet & Greet. Social awkwardness coupled with a sense of entitlement is a bad combination. A certain local message/review board linked to my blog on a thread about meet & greets. I could see every time someone clicked that link in that thread. But I didn’t need a stat tracker to tell me I’d been linked. I could read it myself.

And then you guys kicked it up a notch. You moved the discussion to the private men only board. Here, as you so often do, you used the cloak of internet invisibility, not to look inward but to lash out. But you didn’t lash out at me, did you?

I’m watching you. I know all you guys. I’ve partied with you. Hell, I may (or may not) have commented on that thread.

You wonder why I don’t like “hobbyists”? It’s because of that behavior. The venue brings out the worst in you. Some of you I have personally liked, I’ve had drinks with you, or maybe I just had a drink while you drank club soda. But based on your behavior behind closed Internet doors, maybe it’s time you start working the steps again. Maybe make a searching and fearless moral inventory of yourselves again.

What are you saying? Your jacket doesn’t fit right with that knife in your back? Malcontent? Off your meds? What an amusing bon mot, joking about how a certain hooker actually likes being groped! Of course, she also likes doing bareback gangbangs, but you forgot to mention that part.

I’ll keep watching you, I’ll keep writing about you. And I’ll keep waiting for you to revisit Step 9.

Romance meets Finance.

Sucker

He was a millionaire property developer. She was a $500 an hour escort. Sure, he was married when they met on an Internet site devoted to setting up rich men with… well, with women looking for rich men. But those are just details. That was long before the lawyers got involved.

The story of millionaire Robert Brot and callgirl Lindsey DeLeon starts out, as so many of these stories do, with a simple pay-for-play arrangement. The newspapers now call it a Cinderella story gone wrong. Brot now alleges he gave her thousands of dollars so she could leave behind the sordid world of having sex for money. When she took his money and ran, he sued her to get the money back.

Now, I don’t know any of the people involved in this story. I don’t know any of the details, beyond what’s being reported in the news. And not knowing, I don’t really care. What I do know is this: the news refers to him as a “Prince Charming.” They call her a “conwoman.” The implication is clear. He gave and gave. She took and took. After all, he’s a married man who cheated on his wife with women he picked up on the Internet and paid tens of thousands of dollars. But she’s a dirty whore.

Hobbyists lending money to hookers is nothing new. Hookers taking the money and leaving the hobbyist high, dry and holding his own pud is nothing new.  There’s a fairly well known escort who comes in and out of L.A. from time to time who is known to have taken thousands of dollars from a client. When he complained that the money was given as an ‘advance’ against future services, she declared him to be a creepy stalker and announced that she was never fucking him and never giving the money back. Another guy posted on the Bargain Basement Board that he had been robbed by some hooker he trusted. Seems he gave her his credit card number, just so she could post a few Craigslist ads, and was surprised when she ran up hundreds of dollars in Home Shopping Channel merchandise on his card. There again, the subtext of the story was: generous, chivalrous gentleman/greedy, gold digging whore. Again, I don’t know those people personally, so it’s all just “he said/she said.” But the overriding sentiment is, don’t give money to hookers, they’ll just take the money and run. That is, after all, what whores do.

Of course, in many of these stories you gotta wonder why the guy is handing over cash, jewelry and credit to some random message board hooker. To hear them tell it, it’s purely out of the goodness of their wee little hearts, But scratch the surface (no need to go too deep, either) and you’ll see that it’s usually some sort of hedge against future nookie. The twisted logic seems to be, if they give this gal money when she needs it, she’ll give them sex. Yeah, they’re paying for a freebie.

But the story of Robert and Lindsey takes on a slightly different tone. According to him, he fell in love. The money wasn’t a down payment on future sexual services, but given freely  to the woman he loved to help her build a better life. He proposed marriage, he bought her a ring. Guys often fall in “love” with hookers they’re fucking. Hey, it can sometimes be difficult to separate feelings of intimacy from feelings of biology. To separate the feelings in your heart from the feelings in your groin. Guys who have been doing this for any length of time are always quick to admonish the newcomers, “don’t fall in love.” And that’s good advice, if only superficially. I don’t want to veer off here into the whole ‘should you ever date a hooker’ scenario; the ‘is it possible to fall in love with a hooker’ conundrum.

Yeah, you give money to a hooker, there’s a chance you’re gonna get taken. But that’s true of lending money to your shiftless brother-in-law, too. “Hobbyists”, it should come as no surprise, tend to treat hookers like… well, hookers. Money is manipulation. From the White Knight to the Captain Save-A-Ho, the motivation is the same: keep the hooker indebted. To you. But sometimes –sometimes– the hard luck story of the rent being due, the car broken down, the wolves at the door are real. And sometimes –sometimes– it behooves us as human beings to look beyond the occupation to the person. Treating escorts like real human women shouldn’t be an alien concept.

So, should you lend money to a hooker? Short answer is “no.” Should you lend money to a friend? Sure. But make sure you’ll still be friends when you don’t get your money back.

The Guitar Girl

You probably think this blog is about you, don't you?

She came highly recommended. Well Reviewed. I was going through a phase where I had a distinct preference for the hot MILF-y type, and she fit the bill. She had been on the short list of gals I had some intention of possibly seeing some day. Well,  circumstances intervened and “some day” came sooner than I thought. She offered a discounted rate, and even after paying for a hotel room, it’d still be a good deal. Or so I thought.

So I found myself checking into a hotel off the freeway in the middle of an afternoon.

There’s always the usual pre-show jitters. Will we click? Will I be able to perform? Is this the best lighting for my penis? So I’m naturally a bit apprehensive when she finally knocks on the door. She was not at all what I expected. Now don’t worry, this isn’t going to devolve into the standard “she looked nothing like her picture” rant. She looked just like her pictures. That is to say, her features, her figure, her form were just as advertised. But rather than the sultry, sexy, lingerie-clad temptress I found myself face to face with a patchouli-scented, gypsy-skirted, guitar-toting hippie chick. Lucky for me, I’ve always had a fondness for hippie chicks, whether the ironic/nostalgic type, or like my afternoon visitor the type who had actually been hippies. Oh, and yeah, I understand that she wasn’t going to be wandering the halls of the hotel in a negligee.

But more than her style of dress, I was completely unprepared for the guitar. I had booked an escort, not a floor show. As she made herself comfortable in my room, she informed me that she was an aspiring singer/songwriter and she wanted to serenade me to set the mood. I thought, “why not?” Well, actually I thought “so this is how she plans to kill the 53 minutes out of this hour that we don’t spend fucking.”

She played, she sang. I tried to be a gracious audience, while trying to maintain an erection.

Things didn’t get much better when we moved on to the main event after the musical opening act.

I made my move to go down on her, she balked. Really? No pussy strumming? She said she was sore down there from her last appointment. I had to wonder, if she’s too sore to lick is this somewhere I want to be sticking my dick? But no, she reassured me there wasn’t anything wrong, she was just chafed from a client who was an overzealous licker and under-zealous shaver. (Let me interject here, guys. Has no one ever taught you not to sandpaper a vagina? Am I really the first one to tell you to shave before you head downtown?)

As if the unexpected musical interlude was strange enough, things really took a turn for the weird when we moved on to the fucking portion of the program. Hippie chick wanted to inspect my instrument first. Not, as you might suspect to surreptitiously check for  warts or spots or misplaced frets. No, she wanted check out the size and shape. This, she said, would enable her to somehow tantrically determine the optimum position for pleasure.

Aw hell no

No, really. She would be able to tell. By the shape of my dick. What position we should fuck in. Her expert conclusion? Cowgirl. Yup, she thought riding my baby carrot would be the best way to have at it.

I know it may surprise all of you who are convinced that I can only fuck up, but I hate cowgirl. Look, I’m no porn star, I’m not physically gifted, and I have no game. But I’ve been fucking for longer than most of y’all have been alive and I know how to get off. I don’t have a vast repertoire, I just go for some of the ol’ in out. But, I figured I had made it past the six string to the g-string, I might as well let her saddle up.

We wrapped it up with her on top, and then it was time to go. No encores for this performance.

Of course, in the review I wrote I ate her pussy till she came 3 or 4 times, then finished up by pounding her hard from behind while she was telling me how huge my cock was.

Look, here’s the thing. She was a perfectly lovely lady, and we had a perfectly pleasant afternoon. Everything was as advertised, no more, no less. It was a straight up exchange of services for consideration, and no one got hurt, no one got ripped off and no one fell in love. These things aren’t mystical, they aren’t momentous and the aren’t manipulative. I think the worst thing the public-at-large does is to somehow imbue the hooker/john interchange with more hidden meaning than it really has. Or deserves. It’s not all Pimps n’ Ho’s, it’s not Pretty Woman. It’s not abuse or the result of abuse and will not likely lead to abuse.

We seem to have a tendency in this society to look for hidden meaning in the everyday. On that particular day, there was no further, deeper meaning. I fucked a hooker in a hotel room. Then I went to Ikea.