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Hey Big Spender!

What a way to kick off 2011! My first booking for the year was with a 36 year old American lawyer, let's call him Tony (as is Tony in Drop Dead Diva, Jane's boyfriend).

(Can't actually blog in full today cos I've gotta prepare for my booking this afternoon. Let's make this a quickie)...

The experience was... Wow!!!

For the first time, it felt like a real date and we really looked like a couple (cos we're both big and chubby, kinda felt like Tony and Jane, hahah)

Tony made reservations for dinner at CUT, a steakhouse at Marina Bay Sands... OMG, have you seen that place? I would never have imagined I would ever, EVER step into a place like that in my entire lifetime. It is my first snazzy restaurant, where I ordered my first snazzy cocktail, which infact I had no idea what I ordered, simply picked the first thing on the menu. Plus, I kinda liked the name - The Duke of Earl.

To me surprise, it was delicious. I have always imagined cocktail to taste, maybe, very alcoholic, and as I was ready to hold my breath and swallow my poison, the drink froliked on my tongue and glided down my throat like sweet serenade. Nice. Great first expereince with cocktail (unlike wine). Thumbs up! Can try again. Ouh ouh!!

Tony and I warmed up very well, as expected. At the dinner table, I was at a total lost of what to order. So I told Tony the truth, that I know naughts about whats on the menu and after getting some recommendations from the waiter (I dunno if thats what you call 'em, they're not like the usual guys who waits on tables, they talk alot more), I ordered the Filet Mignon.

Looked something like this... but nicer

One of the reasons also why I was afraid to order cos I was totally blown away by the price tagged on these dishes. My Filet Mignon alone was $120!!! That is like my meal allowance for a whole month, equivalent to 24 plates of premium-price Nasi Lemak!!!

But it was the most heavenly thing my tongue has ever tasted. *drooooolll* The taste still lingers on my mind...

{ Sneaked to snap a pic of the table setting when Tony went to the Gents }

Donuts and gelato sent from the heavens above.... Divine!!!

To cut the story short, when we got back to his hotel, Tony wasn't looking for full-on penetration kind of sex... just close enough to tease, he said. Okayyyyy....

Now the best thing about sex with a big guy is that I don't have to worry about crushing his bones. At the rate of how I was humping on top of him, the regular guy would have broken joints in 12 different places. But with Tony, it was like I was on the floating castle. So funn!!!!

After much foreplay and by the time I hopped on top of him, Tony was already rock hard and stiff like a standing ovation. I, of course was juicing wet from the excitement. So I rubbed my body against his, back and forth, and positioned my pelvic region, exactly where the tip of his schlong is pressed along from the tip of my clit to my wet pussy, but not penetrating. Now imagine that, and then imagine gliding back and forth like that slowly at first, then faster and faster.

That was the first time I've ever tried doing that and I never thought it could feel so good!!! It was suchhhhhhhh a tease that I got even wetter and he could feel my wetness, which drove him wildly crazy. I loved the expresion on his face I got so much satisfaction from the pleasure of my man.

Having sex in the dark, with the window curtains fully drawned, revealing Singapore's scenic night setting with the Singapore flyer and MBS towers lending its light, glowing off the silhoutte of my body to let Tony find his way around.

It was a beautiful, super-sexy-hot evening and I'm guessing, I'll be Tony's first stop when he comes back again to our sunny shores.

xoxo.

p.s: Hmmm... so where next? Ku De Ta?... bring it on babyyyyyy

Stairway to Heaven?

Received a last minute call from Pattzy which I was more than happy to entertain. Luckily I was in the midst of getting ready to go out. No idea where I wanted to go but I just had to get out of the house cos the atmosphere was just depressing. That was when my secret phone beeped and it was a text message from Pattzy. *Yippeee* Purrrfect timing!!! I promised him to be there by 9pm.

But this time round, the fun was more of the mad dash to primp myself up before meeting Pattz.

7.45pm Left my flat. Dialled the STRIP hotline to book an appointment for a Brazillian wax. Luckily they had a slot available at one the joints along Orchard at 8pm. Five minutes later I got a cab and he raced to my destination. As much as I was in a hurry, I also wanted to arrive in one piece. It was the first time that I had a taxi driver driving at 120km/h on Singapore street. Serious. It was almost terrifying when he slided inbetween cars and motorcycles on a congested Friday night traffic.

8.05pm Thanks to the F1 taxi driver, I reached my destination in a record time of 15min! After a frantic search for the new STRIP outlet at this relatively new mall, I was 15mins late for my waxing appt, and was unfortunate enough to get an overly friendly therapist as we chatted about mooncakes as she pruned my bush. I kept glancing at my watch yet she didnt seem to take the hint. Reason I was such in a hurry was cos I still had to get my hair done and to grab a new top from Dorothy (Perkins). Which means I'll have to sprint along the Orchard strip for the different pit stops.

8.45pm Waxing. Checked. Now which salon in this area would still be open? Most of the shops in the mall were already closed when I saw a salon that was just about to wrap up. I approached them and semi-begged them for a quick wash & blow. It was a rather posh/ high-end salon but I'ld rather pay a bit more than meet a client with oily, flat hair. So as I sat in the uber posh salon with really nice dim lighting and classy ambience and mirrors all around, the stylist helped me put on a gold colour silk robe to protect my clothes.

A robe? Phoah. That's a first. I think the robe was more expensive that the top I had on which I got at the MNG sale. Fuck. I wonder how much the bill is gonna be. But after about half and hour, the result of the wash & blow was only so-so, cos I've gotten better results (tip: 'The Scene' at L3 Wisma Atria does a mean, fantastic wash & blow) for the same price. Luckily it didn't cost me more than 50 bucks.

9.30pm As I ran along Orchard Rd, I text Pattz saying I'll be there by 10 :P When I got to the Dorothy store (thank goodness its still open), I grabbed the top that I've set my mind on and was out of the store in less than 5 minutes. Ran to the 'ladies' to change and 'morph'... touched up my make up and worked on the smoky-eye effect while in one hand I dialled for a cab. As expected, when I got to the taxi stand, the queue snaked about a few metres long but my cab was prettily waiting for me. *Sweeeettt* I hate to queue.

10pm Voila! In time for my late appt. The stairway to his apartment welcomed me once again and I walked pass the pool and whispered... I'm back ;)

Stairway to Heaven

p/s: When I grow up, I wanna stay in a place like this. Wait...... I am grown up :P Maybe when I'm olderrrr. *Never say never*

... Ouh, and what happened with Pattz?.. The usual. Heavennnn....

Previously with Pattz: My 'British Open'

Farking Pissed and Scared Shit

7.30pm ::Raffles City S.C, JCO::
I am so fucking pissed but more horribly worried. So worried that I just might break down right here at JCO (See. I am such a mess that I ended up coffeeing at JCO when I've sworn my life to Starbucks). Why the hell am I eating donuts?

Cos coffee can't make you pregnant

Recap. Here's what just happened:

I was called by Short-Dick-Sam (SDS). He assumed I will bring condoms, and I expected him to BYOC (bring your own condom), so in the end we had to do it raw, which I know is risky but I let it pass once in a while. The infuriating thing was, stupid SDS cummed inside of me, which I have never ever EVER allowed, even with boyfriends. No one!

After grabbing my $tash, I stormed off, obviously upset. And now, I am half shaking and waiting for the pharmacist at Watsons to come back from her dinner break at 8.20pm so that she can prescribe me the wonder-pills.

God forbid if I get knocked up frm this. I would rather die.

Oh no. My tummy feels funny. I NEED THOSE PILLS!!! *helllllppppppp!!!!!!!!!!*

8.20pm
::Watsons Pharmacy::

"Hi, do you have birth control pills"

"Sorry ma'am but those have to be prescribed by a GP", says the chirpy pharmacist who seemed like she had a good dinner break. Those 2 JCO donuts were the only thing I've had since morning.

Fuck. She doesn't have those pills.
Are there any clinics around here?...No.
Which clinic is still open at this hour?...
Ah. The 24-hr one near my house!!!

I had to abandon my orginal plan to hang out and soak in the F1 atmosphere at Raffles City. Only atmosphere now that has got my entire body soaked is panic and distress. These lips have been cursing SDS non-stop. Outside, the thundering roar of the F1 cars was drowned by the drumming of my heart. It has been 1 and a half hours since the sperms invaded my oysters. Oh no, I can just imagine them swimming up, up and away. I remember back in secondary school, during Biology class that a drop of semen the size of an eye-pin contained millions of sperms! I quitely prayed for SDS to have low sperm count or some kind of defect. I must take those wonder-pills to stop them sperms. Luckily it was easy to get a cab and I was in my very own street race to the clinic. How I wish the taxi driver was Alonso or Webber, instead of this ah-pek who has very slow :'( **on the verge of tears** My heart was beating so fast that I had to rest my right palm over my left chest till we reached the clinic.

9.00pm
::24-hour Clinic::

While waiting for my name to be called, I tried to rehearse my lines to avoid embarassing myself in front of the doctor. Now how do I say it with a straight face, without stammering? I tried to relax and calm myself down. So I picked up a magazine to read.

Are you mocking me? You're really not helping Fann Wong. Stop smiling! >(

When I finally entered the doctor's room, I was shocked to find that it was a male doctor. Usually it is a lady doctor. Oh no... how do I ask this fella for the pills?

"I was wondering if you could prescribe me some birth control pills?" I asked non-chalantly.

"Sure. When was your last menses?... Do you have children... Do you use protection?" Bla bla bla...

If SDS had used protection, I wouldn't be having a panic attack right now, halfwit!!!

The young doctor went on to ask me a string of questions before he explained how to take the medicines and its possible symptoms. The part that left me puzzled was when he told me to take the pills when my menses come and I have to take it for a course of 21 days.

Huh? I thought I need these pills to make sure that my menses come and I don't bake a bun in my oven?

At the risk of sounding stupid, I asked the doctor again to be sure.

"Oh, did you mean 'morning-after' pills? Sure, I can prescribe that for you." I thought I saw a little smirk on his face.

SO THAT'S WHAT IT'S CALLED?!!!! MORNING-AFTER PILLS!!! Who's the champion halfwit now?

Postinor 2. I never thought these pills would be so expensive. $38 for 2 tiny pops, one to be taken within 48hrs after unprotected sex and the 2nd pop 12hrs later. I hopped over to the 7-11 next door and swallowed my pill there and then. I can't take chances. I CANNOT get pregnant. Haunting images start to cloud my thoughts again - pregnancy test kits, hospital visits, abortion... AARRRRRGGGHHHHHHH!!!!! NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

10.30pm
::Home::

Back home I got more bad news. I had planned to run some pretty important errands tomorrow morning but my folks insisted that I run some errands for them instead. Being one who never refuses whatever my parents say or ask me to do, I obliged without any complains and then when into my room.

Breathe.... Breathe. Please don't cry. Pleaseeee..... I begged the tears not to fall but the waterworks did not heed my plea.

I felt so tired. So frustrated. So upset. So angry.... at everything! At stupid SDS for cumming inside me. For wasting money and taking the cab to and fro. For having to spend on medicine. For the horrible feeling of worrying that I could get pregnant. For not being able to enjoy the F1 atmosphere at Raffles City. For being hungry and didnt have time to eat since morning. For having my plans for tomorrow spoilt just to accomodate others. For not being able to tell ANYONE about this, come home, put on a sweet face and pretend that my evening was just fine and dandy.

Mostly I cried becos I was terribly, horribly and scared to death that I could get pregnant cos that was the only thing that I have of myself, reserved for my future husband, if I ever do find him some day, cos I have nothing left to offer. For who could ever love a prostitute... right?

If I get pregnant, I'm finished. My life will be in ruins. Maybe this is God's way of teaching me a lesson. This is supposed to be my last week of whoring. I remembered telling myself earlier this year - untill F1 weekend (cos thats when S'pore gets a lot of visitors who needs erm, 'company'). And then I will quit.

I cried even more when I thought about my boy, Meatloaf, and the hypothetical name of our imaginery daughter that would bear his last name. How I miss him since I saw him last weekend and how I won't share my feelings with him cos I'm afraid I'll scare him away. Furthermore, I don't deserve him. He doesn't know I do 'THIS' and I hate how I can't open up to him cos I have so many secrets and 'cigarette butts under my pillow'. My chest felt like it could just burst.

12.15am
::Bathroom::
.
Never have I been happier to see... blood.
.
.
.
Got my menses.

No wonder I felt so melodramatic. Also kinda explains the wild waterworks. What a fuckin crazy day... Thank you God.

Suwweeettt Saturday

I am so shagged tt if I were to close my eyes right nw, I swear I'ld fall asleep. Today had been pretty licorice, except for e sad fact tt my laptop is down. But I hv to get this down in writing else by tmw it might seem like a dream... even if it means blistering thumbs as I blog away via my mobile phone.

I was feeling super super horny today. My period must be ard e corner. So when Craig txted me if I wanna meet up, I jumped at it.

Couldnt wait ard any longer for my booty call (hvnt had much biz since I upped e price. I'm getting worried), so I took a chance to meet Craig.

Craig responded to my CL post, not knowing its interwoven intentions within the contents of tt post. The way I had penned it was really subtle. Its either u understood it right away, or its jz another friend-finder ad. I included my url but I knw, not everyone would bother to click it.

Sweet Craig answered my post. A cockney geezer. BINGGGGO!!!

He's cute. So I decided to leave him my no., this time without including the hyper-hooker-link.
Craig showed up in an England jersey (damn patriotic, lor!). Nice bloke. Complemented my coloured contact lenses (thanks, hor. I knw ur one is real colour lah). And he said I had a nice accent (hopefully its not as nauseating as Emily Teng's).

Up on his 7th floor haven, we warmed up almost immediately. I mean, come on, we're not in high school. We're consenting adults.

Most importantly, this is for me. NSA. No money involved. Just e enjoyment of good company frm a nice, sweet man... who has no idea he was humping a whore. Should I feel guilty?

I mean, it wasnt a date. I dont intend or harbor hopes of seeing him again. For one day, I just wanted to feel like a real girl again. To meet a sweet boy n hv a mutual fuck.

The transaction-free sex was wildly awwwwesome. We started off chatting on e couch. At first we sat quite apart. Then he started to inch closer (oooh, so like secondary school!! hehe..) And then I felt his hands fall on my lap, while I pretend not to notice and continued talking abt... (ponders) what the hell were we talking abt, eh?

As his face drew closer, our lips finally met and our bodies were wrapped in warm embrace... not. Only if it was soft porn frm a Danielle Steel novel!

From e couch, to stripping to our pores right smack in e living rm, back to pussy-licking on e couch, and a blowjob to return e favour, then to e stool with a full-length mirror right next to it (its e first time I saw myself having sex. Crazy Sexy Yummy!) before we finally surrendered to e bedroom, where I rode him... in my ass. I actually enjoyed e anal-yzing experience this time round, perhaps cos he's the right fit - length, girth n stiffness. We were at it for 2 hours straight! and I enjoyed every single minute of it.

After freshening up, and as I powdered my face, Craig picked up his guitar n started strumming. I persuaded him to play me a song, and as he sang, I recognised tt it ws Coldplay. Later I asked him whats it called, and he said - Trouble. *gasp*

I downloaded e song on my phone while I trekked to e nearest train station to head home. It was then at e train station where I could no longer hold back e waterworks n bawled my eyes out, as the voice of Chris Martin choked me with guilty tears.

"...And I never meant to cause you trouble,

I never meant to do you wrong,
And I, well if I ever caused you trouble,
And oh no, I never meant to do you harm..."

Craig reminded me of e Alex-Hannah (Secret Diary of a London Call Girl) situation n I felt guilty for not being honest when he was so kind.

I hope he finds a nice girl. I truly do.

xoxo

Californiacation

Tonight I had my first American. A 40 year old boy from California that brought me to the Pan Pacific Suites at Somerset. Let's name him... Jesse, like Belle's very own American boy (Season 3, Ep.1). You see, it is THIS kind of clients that make me keep coming back for more. Easy breezy call girl... I was out in 20 minutes.

Jesse's pretty cute. Looks nothing like his age. Sometimes I doubt I can ever master the skill of guessing a man's age. He's not an expat, just stopping over in Singapore for a few days before heading off next to Australia... I really envy people who's work allows them to jet-set like that, spend nights in suites without ever having to clean up and have dinner parties at Sentosa Cove. Pffftttt.

xoxo

Making love to Ashraf Safdar

As he leaned forward to kiss me, I could feel his right hand slowly moving up from my thighs, sweeping against my skin, gracing my perky nipples. I closed my eyes... ouhhhh Ashraf babyyyy.....!!!

Oh god, I wish it was really Ashraf Safdar (cos he's just so damn hot, and smart). But this particular gentlemen ended up with an hour with me due to some inaccurate details that was provided. You see, he was the one who took up my bait for the Patrizio Buanne concert. In his email, he did mention of the 'oompa loompa' mix but 'with British roots'. BRITISH ROOTS MY ASS!

Anyway, we decided to meet up last Tuesday, prior to the concert. I thought it wasn't such a bad idea, that we could get acquainted and warm up to each other. Also because I insist that he collect the concert tickets on that day and I get to hold on to my ticket, just to be safe.

The ONLY reason why I agreed to going to the concert with him is cos he said he had British roots, that's why I didn't rule him out straight away. But when I saw him at Coffee Bean the other day, I could feel my blood level shoot up and smoke must have been coming out of my ears! You know my preference for 'anyone-but-oompa loompas'!!!

From the way he spoke to the way he looked, there wasn't a speck of English DNA-strand. I could probably have given him credit if he had some wit, sense of humour or charm. Nada. Zilch.

I know I could've just walked away, even though I know he had already seen me from afar. But I didn't have the heart. Can you believe the guy... 2 minutes from the moment I sat down, he said something like -" I know in the email I said we should have dinner first before we proceed to the hotel, but now that I've seen you I think I want to have you now."

What the fuck of a man is that? Its just the way he said it, that repulsed me to the max, it made me feel sick in the stomach. What? Am I like, steak, or something?

Honestly, I feel like throwing up everytime I think about him (not to mention the breath). It is the FIRST time in my kissing history that I did not swallow my saliva. And when he started to caress my body, I usually like to watch but this time, I HAD to close my eyes, pretending I was enjoying it, but instead trying hard to imagine it was Ashraf Safdar.

Once the hour was over, we went separate ways, and I jumped into the nearest cinema and watched Shrek4, in 3D, just to get the whole thing out of my head, not forgetting, bottles and bottles of Pokka green tea.

I've repelled several request for dates with him since that night, the next one being on the very next afternoon. I could really use the money, but seriously, cannot 'lah!

Next I'm supposed to see him is for the concert, and then 'the hour', and then, the end. Hopefully Patrizio will be a good distraction for the night. *cross my fingers, eyes and toes*

xoxo

p/s: About Ashraf, if anyone from the production team of Singapore Talking happen to be reading this, puh-leassssee do something about Ashraf's hair. Week after week his hair is all messed up and look like he just walked in the rain. He's publicity pics are really nice, one with his cute floppy hair (see above)...

p/ss: Hooked up with Marcus earlier today. Yup. He's not so dead after all.

The German Shephard

Just got back from a 'job'. Was on leave today so I took on this last minute call. I dun usually accept last minute requests but he is a German. My first German. Let's call him The German Shephard - GS.

Another interesting thing about GS was that... he requested for a GS - golden shower. *gasps*

I thought i would give it a go but when the situation called for it, I just couldn't pee.

I still cannot understand why someone would want to be pee-ed on.

Another request from GS was that I wear a pantyhose. He said he has a thing about pantyhose and its smell. Hmm... ok.

That, I could accomodate but with a heavy heart cos that means wearing a skirt. You see, this might come as a surprise but i do not wear skirts. The last time i wore a skirt was when I was in secondary school. So what more a DRESS. Thussss.... i never wear pantyhose. The only other time i remember wearing a pantyhose was when I was in kindergarten and my mother loved to dress me up in frilly dresses, white knitted pantyhose and patent Mary-Janes. ahakz.

Anw, it wasn't too bad an experience and I get to go home early. Plus, did i mention that GS looks like Antonio Banderas? Hahah... I didn't ask GS for much information like age and stuff, so when i saw him, it was a pretty delightful surprise. Ok, I'm shagged. Off to bed. Nightey...

xoxo

I'm the 7-Year-Itch

I gotta admit I'm very much behind in updating my blog. You probably guessed it right. Somehow I've slipped into an affair with a certain gentleman I'ld like to call Dody (previously referred to as Shrek, but now I feel like it doesn't do justice... to Shrek. Heh.)

11.44am - Rainy Monday
I'm stranded at home due to the fabulously pouring rain. This is how Monday mornings should be. I've already called the office to say I'm out running errands and might not come in today. This was followed by a few other sms-es from colleagues (inc my boss) saying that they're not coming in to work also. Haha. This is why I love my day job.

As I was saying earlier, yeah... I think I'm having an affair with a married man. Wow. Another firsts box checked. Last Saturday, Dody finally asked me over to his place and we made love.

I've known Dody for 20 days now (inc. today) and last Saturday after that love-ly episode, I ended up spaced and zoned out throughout the rest of the day. That night, at a concert that I had to attend, I finally burst and started crying at one of the songs.

I still find it mind-boggling how a man can have an emotional affair behind his wife. When I was at Dody's place, I saw the pretty framed pictures of him and his wife. Now I knw what Dody meant when he once before said, "One day you'll see the resemblance you have to my wife"... and its true. His wife and I looked like we could be sisters. Infact, I think his wife looks even better that me. But then again, those were his wedding pics from 7 years ago.

Oh yes, did I mention that I'm his 7-year-itch...?

WHY?? WHY?!!! How can a man bring himself to break that wedding vow?

Since I first met Dody, we've only met at his restaurant. I've been there about 4 to 5 times and even have my own special table. Table 60. We'd make out on his couch at the back of the dining area after closing time and I'ld come back like 3 in the morning everytime.

Dody is not a paying customer. More like a sugar daddy who feeds me well. Too well cos I'm putting on a bit of weight no thanks to the late night suppers. He makes the best coffee, showers me with chocolates, foots my cab bills and he checks up on my all the time. With Dody, I feel pretty loved and I enjoy his care and attention.

But after all that, as much as I promised not to judge... I still dont understand how a man can have the heart to bring another woman into the same bed where he and his wife makes love.

Dody says he loves me. But I'm already thinking of how I to get myself out of this. After Popeye, I've learnt my lesson. No love. Nooooo wayyy. Not again. L-O-V-E is just another word I'll never learn to pronounce.

On the downside, I havent been able to get much whoring done with Dody around. Wait. I've only done the Geologist guy and Popeye... yeah, I think that was it.

If I ever have to get rated, I'ld probably be one of the poorly rated whores who fails terribly when it comes to emotions. To date, I've revealed my identity to 2 men - Popeye and Dody. *sighs*

Anw, end of the month is looming. Time for the 'Fifth Wave'... new pictures, new name... still wondering if I should get a new number cos I might lose my regulars. *would have met up with another regular this morning if not for Aunt Mary who is in town :P Then again, I'm pretty relieved when 'she' visits*

Reminder to self: Meeting a 30-something italiano this week.... looking forward to that.

Verdict: Time to move on from Dody. I will miss him but I'll survive.

Don't Let It Go To Your Head

7.41am
My mind is in fragments. I just woke up but I havent been able to shake off that heaviness in my heart. Feeling like an emo-wreck. Here's what happened the past few days...

- Hooked up with another Swiss Choc... this ones from Geneva.
- Did I mention he's a geologist! Cool, huh?
- Nice guy. Confessed he's married to a french woman and has a 5y.o daughter. Said his wife hadnt made love to him eversince they had their daughter. Oh man...
- He cummed to a mere blowjob. $150 for a 10 min job. Not too shabby I guess.
- Went to Dody's restaurant after that for supper. I now, officially have a special table.
- I'm the woman at table 60.
- Dody's wife was at the restaurant too. Bummer.
- Dody joined me at the table after she left.
- I told Dody I might be getting too comfortable with him. Crossing the lines of 'business'.
- Shrek said to not get emotional and to enjoy this while it last.
- Feel myself falling into the same emo-pattern that I did with Popeye.
- Left in a cab around midnight. Refused Dody's cab money. (Damn, $30 gone)
- Received a txt msg at midnight that says "I'm back!!!". It was from Popeye.
- Had my first anal last night + crazy sex, courtesy of Popeye
- Popeye said he just signed on with a German company (Carpenter's song playing in the background)
- This might be his last visit in S'pore in a long time.
- I cried alone in the room after Popeye left.
- I'm an emo-wreck.

"They're not paying for sex because they want a relationship, silly. There will be others. There always are."
- Belle's A-Z of London Sex Work :: Belle De Jour :: pg 92

I Killed Marcus of Market Street

Iwish the earth would just open up and swallow me right now. Marcus must surely feel so disgusted and see me as a big-time slut. Not that i'm not but he didn't have to know.

No thanks to me.

I texted Marcus by mistake, the text that was meant for another 'customer'. I asked what time I should be at his door cos I have to be in the office by 10am. The thing is, just THIS morning, I paid Marcus a visit at his office. It was the best boardroom sex ever and he totally fucked my socks off.

Marcus, is not a paying customer. Well, he did the first time but I've grown so fond of him that I keep him lingering around my little finger just so that I can fuck him for my own satisfaction. We do it in his office boardroom everytime and this morning, I woke up extra early, just to give him a visit. Did I mention that it was mind-blowing?

But after that text message boo-boo, I'm sure I've seen the last of him. Marcus can be such a stuck-up Brit that I intentionally give him that idea of exclusivity. And I want him to think that he's my one and only cos I'm so addicted to him. Now I can say goodbye to his white dick cos he's never gonna text me ever. He hasn't replied to my "Oops. Pls ingore that" text message. I hope his Blackberry got flushed down the toilet or something but its quite unlikely.

It could have been one of the best Fridays ever but I had to ruin it with my own carelessness. No one to blame but myself.

Goodbye Marcus.

I'm gonna miss Market Street.

8 Top Tricks for His Hottest Oral Sex Ever!

Try these hot moves the next time you're giving him south-of-the-border oral action. Here, eight tips guaranteed to give him the most incredibly sensational oral sex yet!

1. Have a quickie someplace unexpected.
Getting oral sex in the unlikeliest of places is just about every man's fantasy. Up the thrill factor by going down on him when he least expects it, like somewhere semi-public. The excitement of being caught in the act, plus your sudden advances, is sure to blow him away. Absolutely hot venues to try are: In the restroom at a party, in the car stationed in a public parking lot, under his desk while he's making phone calls, at the balcony where his bottom half is concealed.

Read more >>

Money, Money, Money

I can be a real snob if I want, whenever I want to.

Especially when it comes to screening potential clients. After a while, I've developed this talent for rounding up a guy just from the way he sms-es. From the way he choose his words, I can decide whether he's even worth texting.

I guess I've made this clear since Day 1 that I'm not doing this for the money. Simply recreational (but later decided that it pays t0o, so why not). That's why I can afford to be all snooty about it, pick and choose the lucky men who gets to shower their moolahs on me.

[Oh oh... phone call. It's the girl from the escort agency. t.b.c...]

Will tell you about that phonecall later.

As I was saying... Yes, ever heard about 'Pricing Strategy'? It's a marketing term and it is the reason why I've capped my charges to $150/hr. The cheapest girl on a social escort site that I've seen is $200, even that she'll have to split with agency for commission, while a street-hooker along Geylang is easily $40 a pop.

My personal ads would also clearly state one thing: Expats only.

Definition of expat: ex·pa·tri·ate (ěk-spā'trē-āt') - someone who lives temporarily or permanently in a country/cultural group other than the one he originally comes from.

MY definition of expat: rich angmoh (who's overpaid with an obscene amount of money that he doesnt know what to do with it)

At times, I do bend the rules a little. You gotta be either rich or angmoh. But still $150/hr.

I've fixed myself to that amount because it is targetted at men who can truly afford it. Not for men who have to scrimp and save to afford it. Locals will never pay that kind of price cos if they are that horny, they would know better where to get the cheap ones. So far I've only done one local guy; a newbie, so let that be an experience for him.

For me, it's either you can afford it or you don't. Some cheapskate ones would even try to bargain and haggle the price, making me feel like some fish at the pasar... It is a major turn-off. Usually when that happens, I'll just cut them loose and move on to the next one.

If you can truly afford it, you won't feel the pinch when you have to part with your money. Tonight's case scenario was totally the opposite. Another one of my misadventures that'll go deep in my escorting journal.

My client turned out to be a bleak, twiggy, mini-sized 26 y.o Indonesian fella. I dun have any problems with Indonesians. Really. I love Indonesians. The ones with thick wallets.

Firstly, my boy was late and he made me wait under his block for about half-an-hour. I waited till my mousse-up hair went flat. Apparently he is on his way home from work.

Secondly, he told me to take the lift up to the 12th floor, just to see him suspiciously hiding at the staircase. When I found him, he whispered that his flatmate hasn't left the house and that we would have to wait a while more. What made me flare up was when he suggested that I give him a blowjob on the staircase first while waiting for his flatemate to leave the house. What am I? 16? Make out at the staircase, you've got to be kiddin me!!!

When he saw that I was upset, he took out his wallet and showed the $150 that he has for me. That almost blurred my judgement for a while, until he said he'd give me a $20 deposit for a blowjob and pay the rest once the hour is done. WTF!!!!????

I was so furious that I just stormed away. We had already discussed this via sms that I need my payment upfront before we proceed. And to think that he's being very difficult with parting with his money, just shows that he actually can't afford it and the risk of him not paying in full at the end of the service was evident. So this time, I decided to listen to my guts and leave.

As I waited for the lift, he still had the cheek to say - "Pls dun leave, I really want to touch your breasts."

The lift door opened and before I stepped in I said to him," U dun want to pay yet you still want to touch?" I gave him one last glare and left.

I was cursing and swearing at the boy for wasting my time. But I wasn't like really fuming mad, but somehow felt a lil sad for him. He's probably working as a waiter, somewhere, yet still want to spend that hard-earned money on prostitutes? I thought I'm the only one with the whacked sense of judgement.

After tonight's episode, I am nothing but more focused on getting my desired target audience. Expats - rich angmohs. And I shan't settle for any less. One thing I've learnt from experience is that the ang-moh are definitely more gentlemen and they never, never haggle. Plus, they have all that money and that's where I've got my eyes on. I don't want the local's (MY definition of local: working class Singaporean/ Malaysian/ Indonesian) money. Their money is hard-earned and shouldn't be spent like that. Sorry locals, your money is not valid with me.

Another community service brought to you by the Ministry of Sex (and) Affairs.

xoxo.

p/s: Meeting the girl from the agency tomorrow at 2pm. Spoke to her over the phone and not surprisingly she sounds very lian, and speaks fluent singlish. If the discussion goes well tomorrow, I might. Just might... sign up as a freelance escort with her agency.

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All men love oral sex. (And that's love with a capital "L".) So check out this step-by-step manual to giving your guy oral pleasure that both you and him enjoy. Trust us, once you've mastered the art of giving your guy mind-blowing oral sex, he'll literally be at your mercy.

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Ask a man which body part is his sexual hot spot, and you know what his answer will be. But instead of reaching for your guy's obvious man-bits right away, heat things up by stimulating his hidden hot spots. "These magic erotic places are extremely sensitive to touch, oral and manual," says Susan Crain Bakos, author of The Sex Bible. And the fact that they're totally unexpected places makes things all the more exciting. Check out our guide to his five secret pleasure zones and try these moves that'll send him into orgasmic overdrive!

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Today was a fairytale...

Tonight, I lost my ability to 'compartmentalise'.

Tonight, I allowed myself become a woman again and felt the warmth over every inch of my skin.

Tonight, I walked home with tears in my eyes.

You know how when you leave out a block of frozen meat to thaw, and as it softens, condensation forms around it, creating a pool of water from the melted ice. Yeah, that was what happened to my heart. It thawed and ruined my mascara.

I haven't felt like this in years. I remember telling myself a few months back, that perhaps I've lost the ability to love or at least develop a sense of fondness for anyone. Perhaps my heart has simply turned stone cold and numb.

But tonight was one of the most amazing nights in my life that I will never forget.

As I laid on the grass, in the warmth of his arms, I stared at the velvet blue sky sprinkled with stars and felt like the luckiest whore on the planet. The breeze whispered a sweet tune as we chatted and kissed in the dim lit park behind my house. I've never brought anyone anywhere near the proximity of my home. Not even boyfriends.

Popeye waited for me at the Jurong Point taxi stand where I picked him up at about 9pm. We've been texting each other eversince our first meetup on Wednesday and decided less than a few hours ago to meet again. When he asked (sms) whether we're meeting as a client or friend, I teased him and said I've upgraded him to friend status.

If I was whoring purely to make money, then this probably isn't productive and not such a smart business move. But my intentions from the beginning was to meet people from different walks of life, those whom I would probably never meet as our paths will never cross. Popeye was one of them.

In a way, I'm rather glad I took up escorting. If not this magical moment would have never happened.

I've been to the park once before for a jog and discovered the place. We 'hiked' up to the peak of the hill and found that there were already a few other couples that were way ahead of us. With no vacant benches, we settled for the grass and just started to chat. I started off with a confession. Now that we're friends, I wanted him to know my real name. He asked for my real age but I was still in denial and refused to reveal it. Heh.

We talked about alot of things... his work, his family. As we laid down and looked at the stars, he pointed out which ones were stars, planets and satelites. I'm secretly starting to adore him even more now. I told him about my day, how I went to buy 2 of Adam Lambert's CD just to get a chance at a lucky draw. Of course he mocked me for it and wouldn't stop teasing about it later. He said he really like being in Singapore cos back in England (he's from the north) you can never do this (lie down in a park at night, cos it would be 18 degrees outside).

The setting was perfect and as I snuggled up and laid my head on his chest, my right hand went under his shirt to rub his nipples. Did I mention how I love the way our body 'fits'? We kissed a little bit more and then he asked about my family and I told him about my initial impression of sailors. But then we saw a few people walking up to where we were and we had to quickly sit up and look innocent. We talked some more and I told him that I'm not usually like this... sentimental and all. Then he said something like - he tries not to feel attached to anything as his jobs requires him to be away for many many weeks.

[urgghh..Water works again. *breathe... breathe*... Damn PMS]

And of course I try to understand what he is trying to say. That I shouldn't start to develop these feelings for him cos it might not lead to anything. But it was the sudden realisation that even as I was sitting beside him, it is not the real me that he sees. He knows me, from merely TWO days ago, as the social escort who was paid $150/hr to have sex with him. I am a prostitute. And no man can ever love a prostitute.

An undescribable heaviness landed on my heart as I reminded myself that this ain't a tv-series that I'm watching... it is my life. I'm a prostitute. Oh my god, I'm a prostitute. How did I even dare to think that he will like me?

[...more water works]

Then I felt his hand rubbing my back. Perhaps he felt my sadness. Whats sad is also that his stay in Singapore has been cut short and he'll be leaving next week. Well, everyone's got to wake up from their dreams, right?

But at least we still had this last few moments to share and I wanted to make the memories last. As we kissed and I gazed into his bluish-grey eyes, I worked my way through his belt and undo his buttons and voila! He was right about the stiffy. He was complaining that he was walking around in it all day.

I wanted him to have the best blow ever and leave Singapore with fond memories. It is nice to blow when you really mean it to be good, as you don't have the tendency to gag. I worked him for about 5 mins and then I heard the oh-so-familiar line - "I think I'm about to cum". Usually I'ld love to see their faces when they cum but this time, I didn't want to lose the momentum and pace. So I continued sucking untill I tasted the warm, thick liquid in my mouth. With my lips still wrapped around this 7-incher, I swallowed his cum and didn't leave a drop. Its not so messy that way... being outdoors and all.

When I turned to look at him, his face was blushing red and I teased him for panicking. Then he said I was a really naughty girl. Everyone says that. I still wonder why.

As we continued to lie down, he placed his arms around me and we snuggled really tight. I love his scent. Hugo Boss. I told him that if I ever miss him, I'll have to go sniff a Hugo Boss scent card from the department store. He turned and held me tighter and planted a kiss on my forehead.

That moment... will last me an eternity. Nobody.. and I say nobody, has ever kissed me on the forehead. Not even mom. And it was the most comforting and beautiful feeling I have ever felt in my entire life.

Soon it was time to go and we slowly made our way down to the main road so that he can catch a cab back to Tuas. On our way down, he said he wished we had met 10 months earlier (when he was in Singapore) and I said we can still kep in touch through emails. And then he alerted me about how there won't be any internet connections while he's at sea (usually 4 weeks long)..."So if I have not replied, don't think that I'm ignoring you", he said.

We kissed our last goodbye as I waved him away in the blue Comfort.

Crickets... the sound of cars whizzing by... silence... and I'm back to being alone again.

I whipped out my Jalou and played that song by Katie Melua - Piece by Piece...

First of all must go
Your scent upon my pillow
And then I'll say goodbye
to your whisper in my dreams

And then our lips will part
In my mind and in my heart
Cos your kiss
Went deeper than my skin

Piece by piece
is how I'll let go of you
Kiss by kiss
Will leave my mind
One at a time
One at a time

I'll shed like skin
Our memories of lazy days
And fade away the shadow of your face...

I really need to get new mascara cos this supposed waterproof one doesn't seem to be tearproof.

Guess I'm not as heavy-duty as I thought...

xoxo.

My FIRST Sailor

Got a 'date' with a sailor this afternoon. Received his email yesterday and was rather pleased with his honesty (he even attached his pic:)

25 years young, 6'3, blue eyes, from England (wats with you and English boys, QueenB??)

Supposed to meet at 8.30pm but he just texted to meet earlier at 4pm. Guess I gotta be a naughty girl and slip out of office again...

(Note to self: Cannot make it a habit to slip out and fuck during office hours!!!)

Will update on the sailor man... *will it be cheesy to nickname him Popeye? hehe*

xoxo.

Tea-time and dangling carrots (part 1)

Today was interesting.
A tea-time quickie at Market Street with Marcus, and a debut performance of my fuck buddy, Lee.

Yup, we havent fucked eversince our first date. Can u believe it? What kind of a fb is tt?

Anw, i've already lost my taste bud for Lee (for making me wait so long. Not tt I waited in e first plc) and jz wanted to fuck him to see if he was as good as he claims to be.

But after today, all I can say is, Lee is officially de-throned. Big? Hah. I'll say tt pic of him was probably doctored.

What pleased me most was seeing Marcus again. I thought I had seen e last of him so when I saw his email in my gmail, I was briming with joy! I knew he wouldnt forget me tt easily.

The build up to our 'meet up' was what made it all so much fun.
First thing I do when I wake in e morning is to check my mail. Doesnt everyone? Not you? Ok. Well at least Taufik Batisah does. How I know? Dont ask.

Back to what I was saying. Time was 9am as I grinned frm ear to ear as I read Marcus's signature one-liner email. 7.25am - time it was sent. Someone woke up real early.

I think I read it about 50 times before I managed to reply it. It was a continuation frm our email chat frm the previous evening before he headed out for dinner. I call it email chat cos we conversed via one-liner emails with a 1 to 3 min pause inbetween. A conversation which couldve taken us 10 mins if we'd picked up e phone, but just chose to prolong it to a spread of 2 hrs while I multi-tasked between emails, paper work and small talk with colleagues. Yeah, tts jz hw much we love to tease each other. I wonder hw HE gets his work done.

I decided to tease him further by attaching a file to this email. A pic of me in e (un)dressing room.

Body text: I'm still mad at you.

Oh thats cos he resisted the idea of meeting up with me the night before. Or my failed attempt to tempt him enough. Whichever way u choose to see it.

He only replied sometime after lunch. By the time it was 3pm, he was dangling his carrot in my face. Lucky for me, it is pretty easy to get in and out of the office with no one to question.

The afternn heat toasted my bare skin as Market St greeted me, this time with the buzz of the working bee colony. This plc looks different WITH people.

I whizzed past reception with unquestionable confidence, looking like i'm about to attend to an absolutely urgent matter. Who would hv guessed that urgent matter is a throbbing cock?

I've become rather familiar with the path tt leads to his office. Abt 20 steps to his door, I txted him - 'I'm right outside', and reached jz in time to catch him pop out his head, looking out for me.

to be continued...
xoxo.

Rae of Light

goddess with white hat and beads - burning man 2009

My phone has been chiming off its hooks with sms-es and I just had to get my prepaid topped up.

Last night was a rather easy task. Other than the fact that the boy was late, but it was alright as at least I didn't have to rush. I checked in first into the hotel along Bencoolen while I wait for Rae to arrive. Rae is 27 years old. A local boy of Chinese-Malay mix. He's a newbie and last night was his virgin escort-experience. He, on the other hand, is my third.

For once I felt very in-control of the situation. Boy walks through the door. Boy sits on the far end of the bed. I lie in bed. We both watched Jurassic Park on tv. Never before has JP been so engaging. Rae was really shy. So shy that he cant bring to turn his face to look at me. His face was towards the tv most of the time. A boy of few words, he only answered my questions with a yes, no, i don't know and maybe.

I, on the other hand, was secretly worried about the time. So I tried out Belle's liner - " Do you have something for me...?" Looking apologetic for forgetting, he fished out his wallet, counted through some crispy notes and handed them to me. You should have seen the grin I was trying to hide. The money was such a huge motivation. Like someone once said, 'Just close your eyes, hold your breath and just think of him as your next paycheck.'

I slowly asked him to relax, lie back... take off your shirt and hang it. And he followed my instructions so obediently.

The boy had a small frame and rather skinny. I had to be careful not to put my entire body weight on him or he might die from suffocation. Rae is the same age as me. But he is sooo not my type and I won't fuck him for free. As I let him squeeze and fondle my breast, I closed my eyes and imagined it was Marcus. Suddenly I felt something rubbing my clit and it was his finger.

Right hand squeezing my right breast, left hand down south rubbing my clit... and I placed both my hands against the bed post for support as moaned and groaned to the pulsating rhythm. Hmm, for someone shy, this boy sure knows what he is doing.

I later returned the favour by giving him head. He was quite well-endowed and had a good girth to flaunt. It didn't take long for him to cum... I chose not to swallow, instead I held his cock firmly in my hands as squirts of white viscous liquid flowed like lava from a volcano. I could feel the throb in the palms of my hands as his faced mirrored his pleasure. First round completed.

Before he went to wash up, I teased him,"Next round, I want you to take charge,"half, commanding, half teasing.

On the second round, once I've made him hard again, I whispered in his ear, "How badly do you want to fuck me?"

"Very badly." He moaned.

"Get on top of me and fuck me fast".

Rae simply followed as instructed and I could see that he was even bigger than the first round. As he got into a comfortable position, he had both his hands on my breast as he ride me slow, increasing the speed as he escalated my pleasure. I let out a big moan as he thrusted his thick cock even deeper into my wet pussy. Then not long after, I felt him pull out and saw that he was cumming.

While he attended to his cock, I made a quick glance to my watch and saw that I still had half and hour to go (Rae booked me for 2 hrs). But after he came out of the bathroom, to my delight, Rae started to put on his clothes. He said he had to make a move already cos he was meeting some friends.

I curled up under the sheets as I watched him dress. Yup, the boy's really scrawny lah :P Once he was set to go, he came close to me, shook my hand, thanked and promised to keep in touch.

*LOL* He shook my hand.

I was just glad that the hours went by pretty fast and uneventfully. I quickly got up and dressed.
Yet another night in the life of an escort.

xoxo.

I Survived 63 Market Street!

... and Marcus is even cuter than Hugh Grant!
My first ang-moh !!!!. *gives myself a pat on the back. Well done B!*