Showing posts with label episode. Show all posts
Showing posts with label episode. Show all posts

Who dares wake me from my slumber?

My phone rang at 6.24am.

A man's voice. English accent. It took me a few seconds before his words started to register in my head.

I dunno what got into me that morning. Firstly, I don't even wake up that early. Secondly, I seldom answer calls from the phone, I only use it to sms. Thirdly, I don't do last minute bookings - need time to screen the bookings for safety purposes.

But there was just something about the spontaneity of this call that made me sit up and felt challenged.

One hour later, I was at the lobby of the Regis... again.

Twice in a week, huh? Not too shabby at all. These boys are spoiling me silly. Hahhaha. Did somebody say Hotel 81? What's that? *lol* Just kidding. You can stop rolling your eyes now.

(Not so) fresh out of London, especially not after a 14-hr flight, the guy just touched down at 5am and already looking for a shag. I was a little (just a little) surprised when I saw him. At a glance he looked like Val Kilmer, but in a more 'were-wolfy' kinda way especially with unshaven look, thin lips and long 'Kurt Cobain' hair. Hard to believe that he's a businessman, looks more like a drunken rock-star to me...

Perhaps its the curse of the Regis, the sex was (again) unmemorable and better still, fast. I was in and out within 20 minutes. Full-price. He cummed in 10minutes, and I took another 10 minutes to zip myself back up and touch up my makeup.

Instead of hangin around in line for a cab, I decided to take on Orchard Road by foot, on 5-inch heels. At 8 in the morning, when people were out on their way to work, I was just done.

xoxo
READ MORE » Who dares wake me from my slumber?

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
READ MORE » Hey Big Spender!

Stroke of 2011

They say that what you do on New Year's effects what you do for the rest of the year?

If that is indeed true, then 2011 is the year to get high and glamourous. Or is it?

Here's how my new years eve went.

8.00pm
My folks just left the house for my cousin's engagement ceremony. I'm left at home all alone.

8.30pm
Doing laundry. Hang my clothes to dry. I'm determined to go to sleep by 10pm.

9.00pm
*ting ting*sms-alert. 'Ok confirm. See you at 12.30'


Damn. I was half hoping that this booking will not follow through cos I really hate to go out on NYE. Crowds. Bustling. No thank you. But the text message from Adrian confirmed that we're on.

Adrian is a Hong-Kee (is that what they're called? Or is it Hong Kong-er?). He has made a short-noticed enquiry to book me, guess what... for his bisexual Spanish girlfriend! Awww... ain't that sweet?

So how can I refuse such an enticing offer, right? To stroke another woman's pussy at the stroke of 2011... ménage à trois... Awesome!!!

The plan was to meet them at the club where they'll be at, and then later head back to the room.

CLUBBB??? But but... I've never been to a club.

Seriously. It's a rather embarassing confession but I'm just 'innocent' like that.

Hence, my first virgin experience of 2011.










Being above everyone else... on the 71st floor at that, is definitely a feel-good way to kick off the year. 'You'll never get to heaven if you're scared of getting high', right?

But my initial reaction was - I thought I had died and sent to HELL.

I've never been a party animal, never will be and after last night, I'm convinced that is NOT my scene. The following details might make me look super suaku (pronounced 'soo-ah-koo'. Means 'mountain turtle' in Hokkien dialect. A slang for a generally uncool, unworldly person who is ignorant about some topic or another) but I have to write these thoughts down so that I can laugh at it on New Year 2012.

I have never felt more out of place. While I was there, more observing than participating, I wonder how people could actually enjoy being in an overcrowded, hot place where you can't even hear yourself talk, whatmore have a conversation. I don't understand the logic of clubbing.

I get the music part. Loud thumping music. You drink your champagne till you're tipsy. Let your hair down. Break loose. You dance and rub bodies with other strangers which somehow being in a dark, noisy place  makes it permissible (and I'M the slut??). And the place was so dark, I swear, I wouldn't even know if that was Eduardo Saverin standing next to me.

A couple of peeps were snogging in a corner. I guess that is common?

Adrian told me to ask for champagne as its the most expensive. As I don't drink, I figured I might get a weird stare if I asked for Coke so I just kept the coupon as a souvenir.

I saw two to three girls being carried out because they were dead drunk. Again - tell me how is that a way of celebration or enjoyment? *shakes head* I don't understand.

And this is not a place of teenagers or adolescence. ALL the people there should be around their 30s and above. A more affluent crowd, I'ld say.

Luckily, in the end, the ménage à trois didn't fall through and I was compensated for coming all the way. I wasn't at all mad or anything, infact rather pleased that I got to see this side of the human race which all this while, I have been sheltered from.

I did enjoy the music though. And loved the laser works till I can't seem to stop taking pictures of 'em.

I don't mind coming back here to be wined and dined. But to club, I think I'll pass.

Till then, Happy New Year guys and thanks for all your messages! ;)

xoxo
READ MORE » Stroke of 2011

K for Kovana - part 2

Remember last month when I told you about that jerk who lives in Kovan, who drives an orange Audi. Apparently, he's a serial ass-hole, going around cheating other girls too!!!

The escort forums had put up a warning on this guy and some of the other girls also shared their bad experiences. **(((Long live the Sisterhood)))**



See?... and you think I'm being a bitch for despising the 'oompa loompas'!!!?
READ MORE » K for Kovana - part 2

G-Spot

Christmas is the time to share your love. Also an excuse to go shopping, even if it is for others.

Last week after G brought me lingerie shopping, I cracked my head to think of what gifts to get for his daughters, aged 5 and 7y.o. I tried to dig back on old memories, when I was a little girl, what were the things I loved and treasured. After walking around the entire ION, I went back and went through my list of shortlisted items. As I had all the time in the world to decide, I figured I shouldn't buy impulsively as I wanted to put more thought into the gifts.

The next day early in the morning, I went back to ION before the other Christmas shoppers to snap up some cool gifts from Kikki K, Diva and Accessories.



It was a tough choice, especially when later I went to Borders and saw MORE cool stuffs. Luckily I was still able to restrain myself and settled at Coffee Club to chill instead for the rest of the day.

I only got to wrapping the gifts on Tuesday and was wishing hard that the girls would like 'em.



Yesterday morning, I popped by G's place to pass him the pressies. We sat and chatted for a while and I saw that his X'mas tree was already up and baubbled. It felt ready good to see him and hear him talk about choosing between Fairprice Finest and Fairprice Xpress *lol*. Com'on, he's a stay at home dad, what do you expect?! I do wonder where his moolahs come from... hmmm, maybe he's an exiled prince or has independent wealth? I don't really care (ok, maybe just a little bit). I simply like him for his kindness and humility. And the great sex, of course.

I stayed for less than half-an-hour cos his kids were already on their way back (from playing at the neighbours. He sent them over when I txted to say I was coming. Why? Am I that hideous? Oh. I forgot. I'm the prostitute.)

I told him he don't have to tell the girls who the presents were from. Just say it was from 'Santarina'. I didn't sign off on any of the presents too, just christmas greetings and wishes. It would have been rather awkward for me to sign-off, I mean, should I sign my 'REAL' or 'reel' name? Or maybe simply 'Love, Your Dad's Fuckin Machine' or 'Kisses, Your New Mom'. *lol* Now, THAT would be pure evil.

I went back home after that and as usual over-analysed the scenario in my head. Maybe he would hide the gifts and not give it to the girls. Maybe it IS unappropriate for me to extend gifts to his family. Maybe he will open and check the presents first to see if its anything 'unappropriate' before giving it to the girls.

Then I wondered some more why I doubt him so much when he has only been so nice. *smacks myslef on the head* Perhaps it is 'me' that I don't trust. I do not expect anything in return. I don't expect recognition. Just want to share my love. I turned up my radio as this song played the tune of my teary peepers.

When you forget me
When you don’t remember my name
Not even a memory
Somewhere in the back of your brain
I won’t be offended
‘Cause I always knew
that the day would come
when I’m not enough to make you stay


You tell me it’s not possible
No way that we could break
But nothing is illogical
Believe me


Like falling stars over your head
We were bound to burn out
Burn like crashing cars
I’ll never get over you, never over you
‘Cause you are so beautiful, yeah


The world is turning
And time keeps on lingering on
The sun will be burning
Eventually you will be gone


I’ll always love you
Oh, believe it or not
Baby, that’s not enough to
Not enough to stop these…


Falling stars over your head
We were bound to burn out, burn like crashing cars
I’ll never get over you, never over you
‘Cause you are so beautiful, yeah


When it’s all said and done
I’ll be just a speck in the galaxy
Floating far far away by gravity
You tell me it’s not possible
No way that we could break


Like falling stars
Like crashing cars
Like falling stars over your head
We were bound to burn out just like crashing cars
I’ll never get over you, never over you
‘Cause you are so beautiful
You are so beautiful, yeah


:: Falling Stars :: David Archuleta



About 15 minutes later, I got a phonecall from my 'secret'-phone. Yippeeee - a job call at last, I thought.

I picked up the call with a sexy "Hello", and voice at the other end exclaimed - "Thank youuuuuuu!!!!!!!!"

Huh?

"The girls lovvvvvvvved it!!!!!", said the familiar voice.

It then hit me who it was and screamed,"You were supposed to open your presents on Christmas day!"

"Yeah, but the girls were so excited when they saw it, and I was curious so we just had to open it now. Thank you. It is really too much. You didn't have to. I've been to these shops and I know how much these things cost..."

I'm surprised I can still remember every single thing he uttered. It feels really nice to make others smile and feel happy. He went on and on for a while more and then we were planning our next rendezvous. He said probably the week after next. Till then I'll probably would have starved to death.

In an unexpected turn of events and many more flirty sms-es inbetween, I ended up at his doorstep, again, later that night.

'The coast is clear.'

That is my cue to come in. His daughters are finally asleep.

He took my hand and whispered to my ear.

I couldn't hear what it was :P

He led me into a room and then I saw this little angel sleeping peacefully. She is so adorable!!!! Oh, he wanted to show me his daughters, whom I have only seen in pictures. On her little side table, I saw the gifts that I got for her, displayed nicely, fitting perfectly with her other belongings. Bingo! My taste in gifts was on the DOT.

Shortly after we returned to the living room, where daddy was already very, very, hard.

To keep it short, things were smokin' up by the Christmas tree as G kissed me all over with his hands already making his way into my private baubbles. We took it to the bedroom after that and the rest was his-story.

After multiple orgasms and pints of sweat later, G flopped on my body and we snuggled tight, his head resting inbetween my swellin boobies.

"You know, Annie loved your presents so much, she wore it during dinner. She almost wanted to wear it to sleep," whispered G.

"Then perhaps I should have bought for all 3 of you so that you all can wear it together at dinner", I chuckled.

"Though I have another present for you, but I insist on giving it to you personally.... Lie on your back," I ordered, and started nibbling his nipples and plant gentle kisses down his body and inbetween his thighs, purposely avoiding his 8-inch candy cane.

I teased his sack with my tongue and as his moans got more intense, I finally licked his candy cane until it melted. Mmmm, I love candy.

It was a transaction-less episode as I came on my own accord but if the sex was good, I don't mind.

After all the shoes, shoes and Christmas shopping, I am down to my last $10. Can you believe it? I can't. My entire stash is gone. I have to chew my shoes till I get my next 'call'.

If anyone would like to donate your lunch vouchers, dinner coupons or maybe take me out to dinner (in return I will pose as your girlfriend at that dreaded Christmas party) please email me at xoxo.chuckles@gmail.com with the email subject: Keep 'hushushbaby' Alive!

Thank you & Merry Christmas!

*^*hoe hoe hoe*^*
READ MORE » G-Spot

F.I.L.F - Chivalry is Not Dead


On a regular day, I would actually be bitter seeing these two teenagers 'loving-doving' infront of me. But today is an especially lovely day for me.

As you can see, I am blogging in the comforts of the plush seats at Old Town White Coffee @Far East Plaza right now, while having *duhh* - coffee. My tummy's cramping pretty bad; having my first day of period, but I'm all grinssss.

A lottttttttt of things have happened and it will take at least 10 posts before I get it all down on blog. But let's start with TODAY.

I met up with, let's call him 'G', at Starbucks at 10.30am this morning for breakfast. G asked me out to go shopping... for lingerie. To begin with... how awesome is THAT??!!!!!!!! Lingerie shopping is the ultimate best (second being bags and shoes, third - dresses). So after that I brought him to the place where I usually buy my naughty intimate wear.

RONDAVOUS - THE hang out place for all naughty lingerie. At first I asked him to choose for me, but being him, he said, "No, you choose. It's for you". Awww, how sweet right?

So I picked out a few to try them on, and with each different piece, I called him into the changing room to see. NOW, I would surely know why men should NEVER be allowed into the changing rooms. For a while there I went 'ouh, ouh', when I saw his gleaming eyes light up. He inched closer and we started kissing... slowly nibbling my lips and then held me tighter, flicking my nipples. He got soooo turned on by the 'barely there' lingerie that we almost end up making out in the changing room.

That happened 3 more times with the other pieces I tried on, but in term of intensity, the first piece definitely bagged the trophy. I didn't look at the price tags cos I didnt want to be choosing based on price/ most expensive so I merely picked based on preference, which eventually did turn out to be the most expensive :P How I know?... hmmm...

After shopping, we went back to his place, where I'm having the best sex ever for the second time in the week with G. I told you I was addictive.

My first date with G was last Friday. The entire process was the easiest and fastest I've ever done. More convenient than online shopping - he dropped me an email with all the info I need, *POOF* I show up at his door the next morning and he claims to not being able to stop thinking about me ever since.

And G is farrrrrrrrrr from ogre-ly. Just now when I went back to the same shop (2nd time today) to get YET another pair of stockings, the Pinoy shop assistant who already knows me by name, was saying... "Wah ma'am, your husband is so handsome!"

Husband??? I WISHHH!!!!!

Not wanting to look like a skank, I told her that he was my fiance' (at least it sounds better than 'boyfriend'). Then I asked her how much the earlier purchase added up to and I was flabbergasted by the amount.

$400?????!!!!!

It might not mean alot to some people but if I had known that 'barely there' flimsy piece was THAT expensive, I definitely would have chosen something else. I could have gotten 3 uber-gorgeous lacey corsets instead to last me till X'mas 2020!

Anw, back to the part where we were making love on his bed.... Ahhh... if the Cinderella story is 'If the Shoe Fits', mine would be, 'If the Dick Fits' cos he fills me up to the purrrrfect D, and you'd know how goooood it feels if the 'fit' is right.


The sex was also mind-blowing cos there is always alot of laughter inbetween, and he'd open up alot and share things about his life, which I totally appreciate and infact feel even more comfortable cos I know that he has nothing to hide.



Only at the second meeting today did I learn that G is a single parent and he has two adorable daughters that he adores dearly. I didn't actually want to ask about his personal life, cos those kind of questions are strictly out of bounds. But he was the one who opened up and told me and hey, he reminded me of the term m.i.l.f which on him would be 'Fathers.I.Love.to.Fuck' (F.I.L.F).

Of all times in the world, I got my period while he was fingering me cos I caught a glimpse of his bloody fingers and broke into a panic. I sulked when I thought my fun-time was over, but he said he wasn't squemish and that he didn't mind, so.... woohooo, the fun and play continues! ( I know, I would think its kinda gross too but hey, if my baby doesn't mind, then nothings stopping us)

In the beginning, I thought today's 'session' was to return the favour of him buying me lingerie, which I didn't mind cos he is just so adorable. So again, I was surprised when he handed me the stash for the time we spent together, on top of all the lingerie shopping.

Recap of my day:
Breakfast at SB with G - Lingerie shopping (Far East Plaza) - G's Apartment - Home - Far East Plaza (Old Town White Coffee).

Back at home, as I was getting ready to head out again, I thought alot about G. Actually I have been since our first meeting. I don't think I'm being naive but I am able to sniff out 'sincerity' from miles away.

I find myself feeling rather intensely for G. I respect him for his kindness, his commitment to be the best father for his daughters, and for simply needing some tender loving care from a woman. And that's when the downpour started.

I warned myself - "Don't cry... don't cry!!!" and boommm, the floodgates just gushed.

I especially hate it when it gets emotional like this. 'Fuck-and-go's are so much easier, with no emotional baggage lingering after. But since what I usually offer is an experience, I tend to get carried away (like now) when the connection is as fantastic as this.

This is why it leaves me sad - imagine all the things your heart has ever ever yearned and wanted, all wrapped in a nice bundle and it is now staring right in front of you. Fate dangles it right before your eyes and then you hear a voice saying - "You see all that? It can NEVER be yours." And a mirror appears before you and you see yourself in that gorgeous revealing dress, with your fishnet stockings and 5-inch heels. Red lipstick and sexy bed-hair - I'm a whore.

G is one instance, where if this ever gets too deep, beyond escort-client relationship, if he asks me to quit this life and be only his, I will drop everything in a single heartbeat. Everything.

(Oh gosh, what am I saying? I've only met him TWICE!)

I became an escort, not to look for love, but to market 'love', then laugh at it.

When I first started, I was one heartbreak away from bitter and my heart was numb-cold. Strange how it has thawed tremendously. Even after going stray, I thank God every day for blessing me with safety (oh here comes the waterworks again!) and for softening my heart again, and letting me meet all these kind people (could it be that they are angels in disguise?) who has convinced me that chivalry is not dead. I promised God that I will return to His ways again, just give me some time to get my brains sorted out. God is always close to my heart and in that sense I know He hasn't given up on me too. I just pray that I will be able to return safely to His arms, even after straying far, before it is too late... before anyone gets hurt. Amen.

I think after this I shall go look for X'mas gifts for G and his daughters....

xoxo.
READ MORE » F.I.L.F - Chivalry is Not Dead

To cease becoming competitive means to be comfortable in your own niche

- food for thought from a tranny named 'Salma'.

3.32am

A strange feeling swept over me and I suddenly thought of this song that I used to love back when I was in poly. Automatic, by Utada Hikaru. Now when was the last time you heard that song! 10 years ago?

Maybe cos I was browsing the STGCC site and trying to figure out how to purchase the tix.



STGCC - Singapore Toy, Games & Comic Convention. I'm really looking forward to meet Simone Legno ... can't wait!!!!!!! And I better hold on tight to my hard-earned dollars cos the temptations might be fatal. I might just end up spending my entire year's savings on him :P

Remember that guy I told you I was going to meet yesterday, hey turns out that he's a long-time fan. He said he's been following my developments and I remembered him emailing me back in June. He was telling me about how he loved my pictures and which was his favourites and how he was so nervous about finally meeting me in the flesh.

I simply blushed beyond words and was actually even more surprised that he is rather good looking. From his physical descriptions, I was preparing myself to meet an older looking guy, probably half-bald, short, tired and weary, but hey - escorting is definitely like a box of chocolates... ( I'll let you finish the sentence).

Funny thing was, almost towards the end when we were kissing, he told me that his mind was wandering... he suddenly got reminded of his wife, who was away on business, which I thought was really sweet. I honestly feel that spouses really shouldn't feel threatened by 'us' cos we might end up strengthening your marriage. After this, he's only gonna love you more (guilty conscience) and appreciate you better. So much so that he'll send you away on more holidays, so that he can work harder on strengthening your marriage (with me). *LoL*

Just kidding!... of course I'm just sprouting nonsense. I'm really not interested in forming conclusions about your marriage. Do whatever you want with it. Don't give me too much credit for what's going to happen.

One more thing I realised was - I am NOT attracted to handsome/ good-looking guys!!!

What the hell is wrong with me?

I mean, they might be eye-candy but I tend to gravitate towards the ones with personality. Chemistry is key! Come to think about it, most of my ex-boyfriends are rather 'ogre-inspired'. Hmmm...

xoxo
READ MORE » To cease becoming competitive means to be comfortable in your own niche

If it's cheap, it can't be good. If it's good, it can't be cheap


As soon as he let me in, I saw my stash of cash sitting under his car keys. Hmmm, Mercedes. Not bad, I thought. He went back to his chair to sit where he was probably reading while waiting for me to arrive.

This client was a high-profiler and had repeatedly emphasized on discretion. He had booked the 5-star hotel room for the day although he only booked me for a few hours. I sat on the edge of the bed, near his chair to start the ball rolling.

Now this is why I love my job. This client was not only a high-level professional but very intelligent too. Our in-depth conversations was definitely the highlight of the date. I'll not go into the x-rated details cos it only lasted 5 minutes but from our talk, it was as it I had received divine enlightenment.

Randy, the client, was a regular punter, meaning he's a regular player in this field and a big spender. He was actually looking for a sugar baby, to replace his earlier sugar baby who had returned to the States. So he was sharing with me about his misadventures with the girls he 'interviewed' for the 'position' and I had the time of my life laughing and listening to the almost-comedic twists in his dire search.

It was very interesting to finally know what the other naughty girls have been up to and their ridiculous requests, only after meeting a guy for 15 minutes; things like a supplementary credit card, and questions like 'will you leave your wife for me?'. *lol*

Btw, Randy is well married. And he admits that he loves his wife with all his heart and would never hurt her but... ah, there's a but.

He says, "... but a man has needs".

"My wife doesn't know how to take care of me. She loves me very much, but you know how there is a difference between loving someone and taking care of his needs."

"My wife... she's born with a silver spoon in her mouth. But she's become a tai-tai who has become lost in her own world. She has so much potential, you know," he continued.

I still remember those words very vividly when he said them as I laid in his arms after sex which he described as 'its been a long time'.

I asked him why he doesn't engage the girls from agencies since he can very well afford it. He said, he wasn't looking for a professional. Like me. As in, not doing escorting as a full-time profession. He was looking for someone whom he could feel a connection with, not just someone to shag. I then asked him about the girls from the escort agencies, how they look like - are they like super gorgeous goddesses, and why they're so god-damn pricey?

Here's the part that became the ultimate revelation for me.

According to Randy, it is all a hype, if not a scam. And most of the thousand dollar-tagged escorts are supposedly models or some sort of 'celebrity'. He said he refused to get girls from escort agencies because he didn't like it that the agency takes a big slice of the pie when all they do is sit on their asses and it is the girls who are putting themselves on the line of fire. He'd rather pay for an independent, knowing that she gets all that she'd paid for.

We even started a debate on the pros and cons of being with an agency. I was for it and he was against. I said it was better to be with an agency cos they can ensure your safety. Like for example, the agency handle the bookings and would then know where the girls will be, incase anything happens. Then Randy rebuts and asks me back, sure but when the client takes you to another room, other than the one that he had earlier informed the agency, how would the agency know? And if anything happens behind closed doors, how would the agency know or even get to the card-accessed elevators in time?

That thought stumped me. Why didn't I ever think of that?

So from that valuable insight, I conclude that to be a 'premium, sought after' escort, you do not neccesarily need to have 'special skills' or look like a star-dusted goddess. I would say that it all boils down to personal branding, identifying your USP (unique selling point) and creating that perceived value around your image. Some say - 'If it's cheap, it can't be good. If it's good, it can't be cheap'. It is only the Singaporeans who hunts for the cheap and good. They can go to Geylang then and pick up some durians along the way. I'm definitely not targeting at Singaporeans anw.

Decide whether you want to be a mass-market or niched. I'ld pick the later. When you're niched, you might not appeal to everyone but you will definitely stand out and have a more lasting impression on their memories. I will later share this article I read when I was researching about thoughts on the fleshier girls.

Also identify your target market and shape your image and mannerisms to suit that market. Knowing your target market is very important coz then you would know how to plan your pricing strategy to tie it with your brand positioning.

See. Who said being an independent female escort is easy? Sure it is easy if you want to just sit on your ass and spread your legs and wait for Tom's hairy dick to be shoved into your ragged pussy. It's alot of stiff competition out there with all the PRCs, and Pinoys etc. A classy, high-end escort has not only a refined taste, selective and offers more than just physical satisfaction but can soothe and be the most appreciated companionship a man can ever need, even if its for an hour... or five.

xoxo
READ MORE » If it's cheap, it can't be good. If it's good, it can't be cheap

G.R.I.N.D. (Get Ready It's a New Day)

I've been on my grind
I can only grind for so long

I am not too excited about rap and hip hop but lately a few songs have made their way into my mp3 list on repeat-mode. Perhaps its the catchy tunes and for this particular song, I pretty much like the lyrics. But songs aside, I have pretty much cooled down since that upsetting episode last Tuesday.

You see, I'm not like a tyrant, gangster or have any associations with the mafia (though sometimes I wish I do). All I want is to 'share the love' and not to create or bring trouble to anyone. I'm pretty harmless. Unless you step on my toes.

The very next morning, Marcus dropped me an email, teasing me as usual. And I thought to myself - See, I can't let that fugly douchebag belittle me and put me down. I won't dirty my hands by touching him. I'll just let the prossies at Desker Road spit on his face. *ok breathe... breathe...cool down*


Last night I had a wonderful encounter with a Scottish engineer who was travelling on business, putting up at a 5-star. My first Scottish dude. Let's call him, errrm.... Scott.

Scott's booking came in at very short notice. I received his email while having dinner and a few emails later, we sealed the deal and I met him in his room at 9pm, on the dot. This must be the first time that I am punctual.

He was such a gentleman. Older guys usually are. But Scott wasn't like wrinkly or anything. I'ld say - mature. We spent a good 15 minutes talking, getting to know each other and I can't help but grin when listening to him talk. All this while, I thought people have just been exaggerating the Scottish accent. But in fact, that is exactly how they speak. Luckily I could still make out what he was saying in that accent which I found rather endearing.

And sex would naturally feel better when two people feel connected mentally. This guy really knew how to pump me hard! Perhaps Scottish dudes are naturally good lovers? I know the Dutch are.

Scott even gave me some extra on top of my usual rates for my cab fare home (see, that is what real gentleman do!) and being thrifty ol'me, I still took the train home. (No, actually cos I just bought yet another pair of shoes and some lingerie, and would feel bad taking the cab. Heh.)

And this morning, I was greeted with an email from Scott.
All I can say is, if you love your job and good at it, it shows effortlessly.

When I was on my way to meet Scott, I realised one thing. I realised how when I first started, I needed time to mentally prepare myself, play the scenario in my head, before I can go meet a client while still feeling a bit nervous. But these days, I find myself much more relaxed. When a booking comes in, I screen them and if they seem alright, I'ld doll up and when I enter the room, my body just goes into auto-pilot. It's like whatever emotional-baggage is left at the door, and a totally different person goes through that door - sexy, self-confident, submissive but in-control.

Perhaps that is why I still love doing this and somehow never once found it exhausting (except for the occassional down-sides). I guess its almost natural for a Gemini who's known for their dual personality. Actually I find it even more exhausting if I have to be only ONE person. I once thought I had an identity crisis and tried to curb it but always felt like there was another side of me that was screaming to be unleashed.

Perhaps I've finally found myself. Both of them.

---------------------------------------------------------------


Yea yea yo yo this one's for the people
All the B's that'll bleed and they sleep and they eat
Shit believe the thought we're all equal

Ain't a man on God's green be underneath any other

I don't wanna play preacher
But but I swear they turn their ear when we talk about peace and love
Sometimes might need a hug yea we all wanna come on up above
But this ain't about Jesus, no way, no Abe, no Ike, Moses or Mohammed

Yea it's all about believing, full steam ahead
Because I know the worst times are behind me
I don't wanna sound cheesy but but but I just a really mean it eh eh yea
I'm tellin' I can feel it eh eh it's the reason I was sleep

I be way too geek tonight
This one's for all of y'all
I'm the same as all of y'all, I'm on my shit
I work real hard and all for every little bit that I get

But this is all I need, so sing this song with me
It goes like
So it sounds like this e'rybody start clapping your hands
It's like, it's like

Chorus:
IIIII, I've been on my grind
I can only grind for so long
(go [6X] )
IIIII, I've been on my grind

I can only grind for so long
 Bout time to change a few things

We enslaved to the bank and we only wanna buy new shoes
The way that we think
We can do anything that we really wanna put our minds too

The American dream, the dream is a pyramid scheme, scheme
And it feels outta reach when it's hard and times are tough
But change starts with us yep, yep
We all want freedom yea to be who we be

I don't wanna be afraid when I speak to say what I'm feeling
Yea together we're strong but divided never been so weak
It's time we get even, yea yea, and really what I mean is, is, is
This change I can feel it, yea yea, Mr. President I think it's all gonna be O.K.

This one's for all of y'all
I'm the same as all of y'all, I'm on my shit
I work real hard and all for every little bit that I get
But this is all I need, so sing this song with me

It goes like
So it sounds like this e'rybody start clapping your hands
It's like, it's like

(Chorus)

So it's not about fame, and fortune
It's about believing and believing in yourself
And understanding that this life is life
It's liberty and the pursuit of happiness
And happiness isn't about getting what you want all the time
It's about loving what you have
So get ready it's a new day


(Chorus)


:: Asher Roth ::






READ MORE » G.R.I.N.D. (Get Ready It's a New Day)

Today's show is brought to you by the letter 'K'

K - for Kovana, where one ass of a guy lives. I have the exact address to his doorstep but I'll let him wire the money to my account, and spare him the free 'O$P$' publicity.

I don't understand why some people like to make things difficult for themselves. The procedure is so simple that even a whore who didn't pass PSLE can understand.

Most Ideal Scenario
Step 1: Client gets in touch with escort, via email. Set date and time to meet.

Step 2: Both consenting adults meet at the earlier agreed time and place. Client pays upfront. And the deal proceeds as planned. When time is up, both go separate ways, as if nothing ever happens.

Unfavourable Scenario
Step 1: Client gets in touch with escort, via email. Set date and time to meet.

Step 2: Both consenting adults meet at the earlier agreed time and place. Client doesn't like what he sees (because apparently he don't understand what the escort's vital stats mean, even when he asked for it), calls off the date.

Step 3: Client must compensate for escort's trouble to make her way down as promised. Compensation is for time and cab fare. Client hands over compensation fee and escort girl makes herself scarce. No fuss. No drama. You wasted her time - you compensate. Period. What's so difficult about that?

What happened to me today was the 'Worst Case Scenario'.

Worst Case Scenario
Step 1: Client gets in touch with escort, via email. Set date and time to meet.

Step 2: Both consenting adults meet at the earlier agreed time and place. Client doesn't like what he sees (because apparently he don't understand what the escort's vital stats mean, even when he asked for it).

Step 3: Client drops escort off at a Fragrance hotel (he drives) and ask her to book the room first while he goes to park his car. Escort tries to book a room but found out that they need 2 I/D cards to register. So escort calls client to explain scenario. Client says to wait till he comes.

Step 4: So the ecsort waits outside for him and suddenly receives an sms from the client.
'Sorry I can't do this with you... So sorry'.
As no monetary compensation was given, escort got soooo pissed. If not for the fact that the escort was already having a lousy day, she would have been the forgiving, soft-hearted sweetie that would just let the matter slip and accept it as her lousy luck.

But because #1 - escort had a bad start to her day #2- Client was a fuck-face. #3. Client bailed out, escort decided she had to embrace her latest admiration for Shanghainese women and DEMAND for her compensation.

You see, I am not an unreasonable person. I don't expect every man/ client to like me. Of course there are a handful who just can't get enough and worships my body for what it is, but it is a matter of preferance and personal taste. Most importantly it is how you handle the situation - gracefully, reasonably and in an cool, collected manner.

But you want to play rough? Want to step all over my head and think I'll lay low? Did you think you can be a pushover and I won't dare to do anything? Not only do I take it that you're insulting me and my profession, you're insulting me as a woman. Did you forget that I have your FULL address and car plate no.? Did you forget that I also know where you work? (((((*Biggg evil hearty laugh*)))))

Maybe with the discount-priced streetwalkers you can try and be funny (or maybe they're worse. Its a jungle out there. Survival of the fittest). Or maybe if you were an adorably cute blondie with blue eyes (like Nate, whom I just met again yesterday), I might still consider giving you face.

But because you were fucking ugly, I don't think you deserve to be a push-over. I would rather fuck a troll than let you touch me. In fact when you text me to say your stupid sorry, I was thinking of an excuse like 'Sorry I gotta go. Saw someone I knew' to bail out on you. *LOL*

But I still want my compensation (cos you didnt know I was gonna bail on you. hah) and so Mr. K for Kovana is expected to wire me the money by tomorrow, or else. He kinda put up a fight (all these via sms) and refused to compensate me but I politely reminded him that I know where he lives.

Ladies/ Fellow Bambinas/ Escort-friends: Take note! Don't give them face or these local breed of assholes will take advantage. Be brave. Your time is as precious as anybody elses.

An important lesson to men who intend to solicit with an escort: If you don't intend to be a gentleman or if you don't have that kind of money, don't bring the escort back to your apartment or give her your address, stupid.

*Pats myself on the back* I love it when my claws comes out. I feel like Wolverine.

xoxo

Officially...
1) Hates the letter 'K'. Previous bad experience was also with another 'Dr. K'
2) Hates local men. Very un-gentlemanly character.
3) Hates Audi R8. Especially the one in orange. If you happen to pass by Kovana and see an orange Audi R8, kindly scratch it for me. Thanks.
How did I know it was an R8? Because I happen to be an avid sports car fan, silly!
READ MORE » Today's show is brought to you by the letter 'K'

Deflowering a Boy

A few weeks ago, I've had the honour of un-virginizing a 23 year-old boy. Not my first. I applaud their courage and feel that they've made the right decision to come to a 'professional' to seek, erm, 'pointers'. I can imagine how awkward it must be for a boy to make the move on his girlfriend while being totally clueless about what to do. You'd think that it's a natural instinct and your limbs will just 'go with the flow' - yeah, sure, at the risk of looking silly and ruining that 'special moment'.

Eric emailed me one day to ask for my services and the process was rather smooth. He was taking a 'break' from studying for exams and needed to de-stress, he said. We agreed on a time and place to meet, and an hour later, there was one less male virgin in the world.

The day after, I got another email from Eric.




"I'd really like to find out if there are any illness..... because I haven't been sleeping or eating well with heavy thoughts in my mind"...

Boy, it's called guilt.

You paid for sex with a whore and now your conscience is eating you up alive. But of course I didn't tell him that. Instead I replied him and played Aunt Angie for a while. Plus, I was positive that I was clean cos I just had that pre-employment medical check-up.

I guess that's the kind of reaction you'd expect when dealing with virgins. You need to be able to provide them with some sort of assurance and comfort them a bit when they're feeling 'shaky' like a shivering baby chick.
As a guy, I'm sure you'd want to show that you've had a certain amount of experience with girls and you know your way around. Most importantly, you want to exude that confidence that you know what you're doing. Problem is, you DON'T.

So now that you're in the bedroom/ couch/ private room etc., what do you do to initiate sex?

I would probably say,

1) Keep a strong eye contact and in your head think about how much you want her. She would be able to see it through your eyes, and that makes her feel desirable and sexy.

2) Start with light touching - Casually drop you hand on her lap, or stroke her hair. Drop down the tone of your voice a notch and compliment her. Women likes to be told they're beautiful (In my case - gorgeous. That is because the girl before me was an ogre).

3) Take it slow. Don't be in such a hurry. Unless you need to catch the last train to go home, then maybe just hurry up a bit.

Wait, am I giving pointers here? *LOL* Honestly, these kinda things, you can't read a manual or follow a guide book. It's very HANDS-ON and go by 'feel'. But of course you need experience to know what feels right and not.

For Eric, I would say that his fingers got potential. Cos when we were still playing around, I let him finger me while I rested on my knees and I cummed when rocking to his fingers. Other than that, if I can sum up how sex with virgins are in one word - slobbery.

xoxo.
READ MORE » Deflowering a Boy

Mr Schuester

How did I manage to turn a boring, wet, Saturday afternoon into a laugh out loud, stomach cramps fulla naughty giggles, I do not know but its probably all thanks to the latest booking that just landed in my inbox.

Before that, let me 'fess up to a 'real girl' date of mine that went wrong. It was last July, around the same time I knew Meatloaf. Lets call him Mr. Schuester (as in Glee) - cute English boy, early 30s, been in Spore for about 2 years. Everything seems perfect except that (1) I could tell that he only wanted me for one thing and one thing only (how I know was cos he nvr contacted me after that night, and only many wks after txted me a 'Hi, wanna fuck?'. Jerk.) (2) His crib was trash. I couldnt picture myself climbing those flight of stairs in these heels EVER again. So I chose Meatloaf over Mr Schuester cos Meatloaf stays in a snazzy condo. I know. I'm just shallow like that.

I never thought I would see that name again... until today. Still cant stop grinning to myself thinking - you could have had me for free but you took me for granted. Thought you could use me one night then dispose me. I texted you but you didnt reply. Hah! Didnt think in the end you'd resort to pay for sex. Shame. *lol*

I didnt think he recognised me in the pics advertising my 'services'. Hopefully he doesnt remember me too. I'll put on my hair extensions and talk in a weird slang or something *giggles*

Tsk... tsk... tsk... Mr Schuester - we meet again...

xoxo

3 a.m :: Part 2 - Still thinking about Schuester...

Now I think I remember why was it that I didnt blog about my date with Schuester. I think it was cos a part of me felt a little sorry for him, even though he turned out to be quite the jerk.

We usually assume that expats living in Singapore have it easy and are pretty well off. When I met Schuester for the first time, he shared quite a bit about his experiences in Singapore and how it wasn't all smooth sailing. He got kicked out of his first two apartments... don't remember exactly what it was about but I remember the second one was because the building had to be taken down, and he had to scramble for a new place with very little notice.

I also remember him telling me about how he broke up with his ex-girlfriend, a Sporean Chinese gal, who sorta when crazy on him and started to get all posessive and mental. He shared about how it was when he was with her and her friends, how they act all quiet when he's around and I remember telling him that they're probably intimidated that he's ang-moh and they didn't want to make a fool of themselves. Its an asian thing.

And looking at his current place, I almost felt sorry for the guy. In all my life living and raised in my own birth country, I have never entered a shabbier flat. I guess its alright for a single guy but you can't bring a girl home to a flat like that! But instead, the words that escaped my lips were 'Oh, this is cozy...'. And I'm not even being snobbish here. I live in a regular pigeon-hole of an HDB flat.

I have always associated expats with condo. Expat = Condo. I have had manyyyyyyyyy opportunities to visit different condos (to date, Meatloaf's and Pattzy's are the snazziest) so I was caught off guard when Schuester brought me to his flat. He told me that it wasn't an easy life when he was growing up. Family was complicated with step-siblings and he was never really close to any of 'em.

Getting to know Schuester was an eye-openening experience... that NOT all ang-mohs are well-off and they don't always have it easy.

But he's still a jerk for not replying my sms-es, so I'm still gonna make him pay. (For the amount that he's gonna pay me, wouldn't it be better if he used the money to get a better looking place? Sorry. Still hung up about his flat. Occupational hazard)
READ MORE » Mr Schuester

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'

READ MORE » Stairway to Heaven?

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.
READ MORE » Farking Pissed and Scared Shit