I need a bodyguard…..now accepting applicants who want to get a license to conceal and carry.

16 Oct

Dirty dirty.
This makes me incredibly nervous as there is always the chance that some wacko could kill me and I might die…
And I prided myself on the fact that I was just a legal ho…
But…I can’t fuckin do it any more!
I can’t brothel it up!
It’s too hard to keep a secret when you have to disappear for weeks at a time just to make ends meet.

In my fantasy of how I wanted this whole ordeal to work….NEVER did I want to work in a brothel.
Oh no no! I wanted to be one of those VERY EXPENSIVE, VERY HIGH CLASS escorts.
Why you may ask?

Wellllll….cuz…instead of fucking a gaggle of men in small increments,
you have one night with one classy guy and he gives you a big wad of cash.
You can take care of your expenses in two days, vs. two weeks.
The longer you work in a brothel, the more steam you lose.
When its slow like it is with this economy, it’s a crapshoot going in.
Get one indie client, he can pay you up front with paypal.

Its ONE DAY and then you make enough money to do whatever the hell else you want to do with your life.
FUCK, no, I am NOT proud of it…but…I WANT TO GET ON WITH MY LIFE.

So I have an out date on the 21st.
I will be disappearing to Vegas for the day to visit a particular client.

And who knows,
maybe I will visit another this month.
See I have a website.
A website that is strictly my working girl website.
With my working girl name.
There are photos of a topless girl on this website who theoretically could be me,
but really they are stock photos I found and I photoshopped the photos so her skintone would more closely match mine,
and I blurred out her face.
The guys will never know its not the Babe.
They see T & A and a blurry face and think I’m legit.

Actually…one fellow (***waves hello…Hi!!!****) narrowed down the real life me by using these non-real-person photos that I have plastered on the internet!
He did a compare and contrast of a photo of my real life cleavage compared to a photo of a girl on my blog that the assumed was me.
I felt so bad breaking his heart letting him know that the rack with no attached face that he was comparing and contrasting with, was not my rack…but some model.
It’s nice to know that I’m good at picking out photos of girls who resemble me though. Good enough that somebody who has never seen me naked feels like they’ve got it down.

Yea I know, I’m a fucking genius. Thanks.

Back to my working girl website.
This website was made by a genius web guy and he educated me on the magic of how to get discovered in Google.
I put in a couple of posts on my website about seeing me privately. They are like, posts interwoven with other posts so there is nothing blatant in the front, but if you explore the website EXTENSIVELY (or perhaps google that shit, I don’t know), you will find the words that say you can see The Babe exclusively. Privately, for your own date or corporate event.

I get a couple emails a month from my website, not having ANY IDEA where they came from.
I haven’t even followed the web guy’s directions of updating the thing every 10 days, and I STILL get emails from random dudes from all over the country. Impressive, no?

Here is one I got last nite:

I’ve only been with my wife and want to experience everything she won’t do. I want to rub your body all over. Lick and suck your tits. Lick and suck your pussy. Lick your asshole. Fuck you doggy style and fuck your asshole. Will you do all of these things? It’s not worth it to me unless I can do this once and get my desires satisfied. Thanks in advance. Tom.

Just so you know…in brothel land…that guy just listed ALL OF THE THINGS I WOULD NEVER DO. (for less than a certain ungodly amount….ahem.)
So the question comes up….will this guy pay, thousands upon thousands of dollars to have a priceless experience with yours truly?

I wrote him a reply.
We’ll see what he says.

I’m sure I’m making all of you throw up in your mouth a little.

In all seriousness though…a wife who refuses anal makes me want to barf way more.

What a crappy ass wife.
This is where Brothel Babe comes in to save the fucking day!
Unless his dick is too big, and it won’t fit.
Yes there are dicks beyond a certain size you turn down for anal since you don’t want to shit blood for days. Ew.

Yes, I did inquire as to his penis size in the email.
I also said he had to be gentle.

Enough about that. Lets get all chick-litty for a second.
On a side note….I feel like goddamn George Washington. I’m somewhat disappointed in myself that I have not yet found a way to quit my job, and instead I am pursuing the most dangerous side of the biz. I WISH I could find a job as a fluffer in the porn industry. I would take it. The reason I quit the job was simple.
I have straight up not been interested in being social for the last few years of my life. Nobody’s been interesting or been able to keep my attention. Nobody has been worthy of my loyal friendship…or the wisdom of my heart. UNTIL A FEW WEEKS AGO.

I finally met someone who I found interesting, and engaging. Except, it wasn’t just one person. It wasn’t just one guy. There were multiple people. It was like life was showing me what I was missing out on…and life was saying, “Hey Babe, this is just the tip of the iceberg, there is more cool stuff like this waiting for you if you quit this job.”

So that is why I quit the job.
I haven’t had the balls to tell the specific people involved that they kinda sparked my interest for living again…
cuz its that neo hippie lovey dovey bullshit….but its true, every word of it.

Part of it aint so much the people tho, as knowing yourself enough to be able to figure out what you like.
Once you figure out what you like, things you like find you.
And I was really liking what life was finding for me.

Hell. I’ve even been meeting interesting people who I have managed to not blab my ho status to. And I wonder….is it like the ultimate betrayal? I don’t have an answer.
If I work in a brothel, it’s like saying I fuck a shit-ton of dudes….it’s like saying I’m willing to throw my whole entire life away just to pay my bills. If I’m a private escort, it’s like saying I go on dates with rich men, or I have sugar daddies…and I sleep with guys after dates…and they buy me things because they are generous. By trade I’m a “ho” but technically, I’m less of a ho if I’m a private escort. And I know damn good and well that if men could get paid big bucks to fuck a girl twice a month, they would do it.

I….I don’t know. I feel like people who know the truth will never rid themselves of that barfey taste in their mouth. If I tell them the truth…even if the truth was ultimately that I have quit….would any dude who knew my past believe me? It’d be like any time I left town, I would be suspect for whoring. There would be no way to prove that I wasn’t whoring, and the mind of any real life man would probably spin wondering what the “real truth” was.

Its as if this is the one job on the planet outside of Porn where a person feels awful for telling the truth.
You go your whole life hearing how important the truth is.
But….something has changed. My gut tells me…some truths are too devastating for some people.

I’ll never know when its too much for somebody to handle.
I’ll only know when it’s too late.

I will lose people because of the truth.
I will lose people because of this job.
The person I love will be different because of this job.
I will never get my first choice in who will be my best friend.

I’ll get my 2nd choice of some wonderfully clueless man who does not know my past.

Or maybe I won’t.

Maybe it’ll open up some gateway for freedom.
Some gateway of an advanced way of being.
The knowledge that I’ll never be that jealous insecure one.
The knowledge that I think its cool when a man loves more than one woman, so long as his real woman knows she is always first in line.
The openness that its ok to find people attractive…it’s ok to check out a girls ass…it’s ok to stare at her tits when you should look at her face.
I’ll be that old woman who is satisfied as fuck when my husband walks into a room and scopes out the hotties.
I’ll be that old woman who’s happy my man is a real man with primal instincts and he LOVES WOMEN…as in the species. In general. AND loves me.
I’ll be cool as fuck.
But…without the truth…I’ll be playing into that status quo.
I’ll see my my man flirt up a lady at the Christmas Party and I’ll have to PRETEND to be jealous.

Deny the threesomes.
Deny the gay for pay.
Make like some of the craziest moments of my young adult life never happened…play as if I’m some normal chick when I am anything BUT normal.
Feign pure sweetness when I am the dirtiest sweetheart I know.


Life is weird, guys.


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