BrothelBabe’s #1 fear: Secret identities

Hypothetically, lets THEORIZE…
lets say a gal like me (brothelbabe!) told a lot of people about her “other life” and wishes she hadn’t.
Reasons why a gal might reveal her brothel status:

Because you want to put a wall between you and the other person.
As if to say, “Here is some drama in my life, here is why I can’t go to lunch with you, can’t talk wit you, can’t date you, can’t have a relationship with you, can’t fall in love with you.”

Because you want to take DOWN walls between you and another person.
As if to say, “Here’s why I’m great at meaningless sex, having affairs, and why I’m so goddamn candid. Here’s why I’m the most frank and forward person you’ve ever met when it comes to relationships….particularly taboo ones.”

Because you are tired of men trying to use sex as a tool and as currency.
“Please, dahling. I’ve heard every trick in the book and you making like you will help me get famous if I sleep with you is useless. Show me your private jet first and hand me a bag full of 80 thousand dollars. I’m a professional.”

Other reasons you might talk about this job:
– It’s too tiring keeping all of your lies and cover jobs straight
– The first year is unusually emotionally draining, and you could use a friend (or 30….woops) to help you cope.
– BECAUSE IT’S THE COOLEST FUCKING JOB ON THE PLANET. GIVE ME MY BADGE OF HONOR NOW!

Can you guess which reason my reason is? 😉

The conundrum facing Brothelbabe:
Suppose a gal wanted to start over. Pursue another life. Hypothetically Brothelbabe could be a genius of sorts. A modern day Leonardo da Vinci….who fears being discovered as a generic brothel ho. How does one cover their tracks?

This saga is TO BE continued…..

P.S. My coworker cooked us all breakfast wearing an apron, a bra, and NO PANTIES, so we could all laugh at her completely exposed bum. GOD BLESS THIS JOB.
P.P.S. The security guard also had it with the brothel down the road who wouldn’t give him beers, so last morning he came in completely wasted, crashed here, and got so drunk that we painted his fingernails black. I love him.
P.P.P.S. I sent a letter professing my love to Mr. Wrong….which started with me talking about this guy who wanted to fuck me, but instead of fucking the guy, I was thinking of Mr. Wrong. Isn’t that romantic?

Monday Rundown: BrothelBabe’s Boffs of the week

Earnings before rent was taken out:

About 1000.

Total Boffs: I didn’t count the Mexicans….but the notable boffs were about five. If I can give you five every week, I will.

THE WINNER IS:

1. the 7  minute man race

Two college age guys run in here, the wind following them, and decided on their way down from Tahoe that they wanted to do a “seven minute man race” – which involved running down the hall naked together (yes, we got approval from management), each guy boffs a girl for 7 minutes, and whoever ends up in a 2nd holding area (where a super cute judge we appointed was waiting) wins! I told them to make it a real dude party, they each had to shotgun two beers when they finished f*cking a chick, and they agreed. This might be my all time #1! My BB (bed buddy, girl who I share a bed with) and I cannot stop laughing about it. Thanks boys.

2. Mr. 200%

a fit, blonde, blue eyed 44 year old who probably would have been VERY crush-worthy in his senior year of college, noticed me the moment he walked in the door, and I noticed him noticing me. He was all about my freshly shampoo’d hair and the fact that I looked like I just “threw on” the little dress I was wearing. He lied about his job at first. Or maybe he lied about it later…cuz first he said he worked in computers, then he said he worked for the government, and had gone to area 51 recently. But however you slice it, I soaked up every compliment of him telling me I was the prettiest girl in the house, and my favorite line was “You have me turned on two hundred percent!” I didn’t know that was possible, but I’ll take it.

3. Mr. Millionaire

Close friend who came with Mr. 200% – when I finished boffing Mr. 200%, he was there waiting…and was calling all the other girls “liars” because they refused to blow him without a condom on. Mr. Millionaire had a GIANT wad of cash that he had just won playing roulette. Supposedly he is a competitive gambler and had won a couple million bucks last year gambling too. This particular day he won 8 grand. And had to bring in the whole stack in his pocket. He handed me a benjamin for no particular reason, because he liked my face. He dropped a couple 20s on the floor which I was going to pick up but when another girl pointed them out, instead of giving them to her, he handed those to me too! Turns out Mr. Millionaire fancies himself a “producer” and when he found out I want a career in hollywood, he was ALL ABOUT taking me back to my room to discuss business. He told me I’d have to lose my ass and my hips…slim down, have to upgrade my tits by a cup size or two to “make my waist look smaller” and I’d have to get a  SERIOUS makeover- heels, updo, new makeup, new dresses, the works. He said he’d pay for it all if I came down to vegas, and that I needed to call him on Monday (today!) to discuss when that would happen. I gave him my phone number. The day after, he texted me wanting to know if I would be his “girl” going to Hawaii with him. I said he’d do better to put me to work first, and I wouldn’t go on any vacation for free, he’d have to pay me.

So far, he’s been the only man I’ve ever met who wanted to discuss business ideas while I was sitting on top. Brilliant. And thanks for the Benjamins.

4. Mr. “Don’t touch my wang.” Indian guys are always a special scenario because they never pull their foreskin back to clean off the smegma. This guy was no exception. Except he said he didn’t want me to touch his wang because it hurt, and it hurt to pull back the foreskin even more. Judging by the swelling of a vein on his wang, he seemed like he never beats off and the real reason it hurt was because he was majorly backed up. He wanted to have fun in the hot tub but the whole time didn’t want me to touch his wang. We had to switch condoms out of the jacuzzi…he didn’t understand that the heat of the water ruins the integrity of the latex. Once he finally got to the sex part, he came in like two seconds. He had time to keep going but he seemed embarrassed and wanted to get dressed and leave. Aww. I told him to practice pulling back the foreskin every day. He didn’t even know WHY you have to clean that area. Cause Smegma smells. Duhhhh.

5. Mr. Cum on my tits

I was half awakebut hadn’t earned my keep for the prior day so I went to a lineup and this older white dude picked me out of lineup. No work involved, easy! Except for the fact that he kept going soft during sex. His request? The no-condom titty f*ck. One of my alltime “imma barf” moments….but at least he got his holly jollies. That’s what we’re here for, folks.