Diary of the Whore

The Things people Say... The things people do for absolution

2011-06-03T12:22:00.000-07:00

Well hello all... it's been a while, non? What have you been up to? Oh yeah? Really? That sounds exciting- anyway. So this guy hit me up at the bar- I've been away for awhile. I found religion or Jesus or something- but I kept getting this itch and my pastor kept offering to scratch and before you knew it he was shoving wine down my hole... at least the bottle. Anyway, that turned into a new habit and before I knew I was stepping out of the habit (or into it depending upon his fetish of the day) for money and gold... Well that didn't sit right with me. It was one thing to steal Jesus' juice and take it up the bum but to walk out of service with his hard earned dough? Those altar boys work hard for that money- too hard to have Ted Haggard's Catholic doppleganger slip it up my boi pussy for nothing. You know? So that got me sad which got me depressed which got me drinking because it was 6 o'clock and before I knew it I was at the bar with this dope slinging his lame stories at me. And maybe it was the booze, or the roofie he slipped me, or the warm weather but- well you know, he got me wet. Here's the story he painted for me:

cum n get it hungrrry boi ...

|,O__

_| ./ ´|_

None compare to what this guy was doing to my COCK. His lips were buried in my pubes as his tongue swirled around my shaft.Even as my COCK became fully engorged he managed to keep it all in his mouth. He then slowly slid his mouth up to the head and teased the piss slit with

his tongue. This drives me crazy and sends shivers up my spine. We had not discussed what makes me feel good so his instincts were amazing. I knew if he kept this up I would be cumming soon and I really wanted it to last. I asked him to back off a bit but he just grinned and kept on sucking. My COCK was on fire from his incredible work and I could feel the cum rising quickly. He must of sensed it too as he buried his face in my crotch and took the whole length down his throat again. He held still for a minute and then used his tongue to massage the area right under the head. That was all I could take and my cum blasted from my COCK and filled his mouth. He swallowed it all keeping up his sucking even as my Cock was going soft.His continued work was driving me crazy. I could not believe it. My

COCK was getting hard again and I could feel the first stirrings of another load deep in my nuts, he was nursing another one out less than ten minutes after the first. Almost without warning I was cumming again even more intensely than than 1st time ...

F U R Rdy ..So is my RokHrdKok..

So of course I went home with him and of course I got out of my clothes and of course I started to unzip before I had the brilliant thought- 'Didn't you give this up for Jesus?' And I stopped and I looked at this many and threw up all over him. (Roofies don't really affect me- they just make me puke.) And I walked right out there and straight to confession and buried my head in my Pastor's lap and begged for forgiveness. A few strokes later Jesus and I were pals again. But you know what... I feel like I'm kind of missing the point... Heh.

Tomorrow I will

2009-04-26T23:37:00.001-07:00

Wake up, brush my teeth, jump in the shower and walk to my balcony and look out over the city
I came to this city a few years ago in search of... My dreams? I wonder every morning as I'm looking at my city, 'How did I come to this?' I don't think it's put me any closer to fulfilling my dreams- H$ll, I don't even know what my dreams are anymore. For now I'm just doing my thing, getting by, more than getting by actually- maybe that's something. The rest of the world has it's dial stuck on survive but I'm living high- thriving even- sort of. I'm sitting on my @ss looking gay and pretty in a Rim chair above a slobbering buffoon who can't get enough of worshiping my tight @ss. Things could definitely be worse; I could be in Kansas City or... Oklahoma or something. What dreams will come later to replace this dream of being paid and pleasured? Excuse me-Please don't bite my @ss. It doesn't like it when you do that. Just ask it- look into eye and kiss it, now whisper how sorry you are for biting it... with your tongue dummy- yeah... just like that. Sorry about the interruption. Mmm... what a dream it is to have someone licking your ass. Better than kissing your ass, and you get paid too. At least I do.

I wanted to Hit Him

2009-04-26T23:24:00.001-07:00

He just wanted to kiss me. After all this build up about what he wanted to do to my big black dick all he wanted to do was kiss. I told him we could kiss while I was deep dicking him, but no- 'He hadn't done that in a long time', and while he wanted me to be his first, he wasn't sure he was ready yet... couldn't we just kiss instead and build towards that next time. I hate F%ckers like this. If there is a next time, it will still be, 'I'm not ready yet', and I'll be stuck yet again kissing on some sour breathed Toad who gets off on the idea of- well, I don't know what the idea is- maybe my kissing really is that good. He's wretched. Why do some people think good kissing means washing your gums with the tip of their tongue. Good Lord, God gave you lips for a reason! F$cking use them! And not to eat my face either. I ended up having to train this guy in the arts of smooching and after it was all said and done, after I'd given him a F%cking Master class, he says, 'You need to work on your technique.' Aghhghghg!!!!! So there will be no next time (probably because I accidentially threw my soda through his plasma) and I'm stuck with the residual feeling of worms and snakes crawling all over me (that's how kissing him felt). On nights like these I always wonder, 'Was it worth it?' Well, this time maybe not. I didn't hit him; though I pushed him into a corner, pulled out my dick and beat off on him until I came, then I wiped myself all over his hair, pushed him down and walked out. Later he wrote asking if we could do that again; it was the most exciting thing he'd ever felt before and- he just really wanted that feeling of power loss to- I hung up on him. What's the point in getting back at someone if they enjoyed it?

what's my bleeding sign?

2009-04-25T19:15:00.001-07:00

again, why with this question? is it really a make or break deal if I have a shitty sign? are people so desperate to - is this an attempt to control the situation? mutherf^cker, I'm in control even when I let you think you are so what does it even matter? I get that this is craigslist and what with all the murders going on via face book and that crazy ass med student, people think they need to know more about the person they're hiring to blow but come on- lets ask a more substantial question than, 'what's your sign?' As it is, I only reply with, 'What's your sign', and then give them a compatible sign for theirs (according to the big book of compatible signs for the gays East Coast Edition Revised). In truth I'm a scorpio... or at least that's my default answer. it makes me sound like a freak in bed, which every one wants, right? here's the way I see it; asking stupid @ss questions, making a guy go through a stupid song and dance routine only puts him on the edge and pisses him off. more than likely the answers you receive are bullsh!t, so why even bother asking AND if you do get real factual answers... the dude is more likely to murder your nosy @ss because now you know too much and ain't that a b!tch? so really- people, please, lets keep the questions to a minimum and put a premium on wrapping your lips around my dick and taking the load down your throat... don't spill any- it's precious. say... what's your sign? I hear pisces are the best cock suckers. you're an aquarius? well that's a water sign and- I'm a scorpio- we water signs are so compatible... ;)

This isn't Pretty Woman

2009-04-25T18:24:00.000-07:00

That's not how it's going to End
I Know what I am and I accept you for what you are
You're a guy who pays boys Money for Sex
But I'm a not Boy
I'm a wily little Tart
And there's the Problem
I'm too Intelligent
You think it's Smart Admiring a-
If you think we can be more than... then- well
You've been watching too much Julia Roberts
That's Fantasy
That's part of the Fun
You can go back to Life when it's all said and Done
Leaving Every thing behind you
No worries about tomorrow
And then the next Time
When the Next time Comes
It's almost as if nothing had ever happened
Before
Because I'm brande New
Though olde
And Everything Old...
Take the New
Enjoy it for what it is
No ties that Bind
Except the Strings of Pleasure
Why get Wound up
In a Whore
When you know I can't
Give you More?

Dancing the Dance of Seven Lies and Deceits

2009-04-25T18:11:00.000-07:00

If it's a Dance
Then Dance B!tch
Open those legs
Throw your head Back
Grind it deep
Pound it. Smack!
Throw it Down
Close Your Eyes
Touch Your Head
To the Ground
Dance the Dance of Seven Lies
Deceive Me
Lie to Me
Make me Think I'm the Only One
Until I go
2, 3, 4
Ohhhhhhh..... You want to Shower?

I was made to Love him

2009-04-25T17:54:00.000-07:00

But He wasn't made to love me
Yes it's just a job
But for him I'm giving it free

He has no idea who I am or what I'm really about
It started as a hookup and now I'm hooked
He didn't get that I was a- well... but he made it feel so good
That I thought I'd let it slide this once
Which turned into 3 or 13 or once
And now I want him every night
But the bills have got to be paid
Love doesn't work when the job is getting Laid
I tried to cut it back
So I'd keep things nice and right
I don't want him sliding in
And finding that it's not as...
So I found me this nice old guy
Who takes keeps me square
He likes it he says
Having a boy to take care of
Who works Hard to please his man
And only his man
I no longer worry about the Score
Or having to Score Each night
It's not really a retainer
But it's a hot Load of Cash
And it keeps me- keeps me- has me kept.
Kept from What I want
I was made to Love him
But it's Love I've got to sell
If it's only Love I've got to give up
If it means I don't have to Worry
Even if I was made to Love him
He Can't Love me for Me
Cause I'm a Hustler out for...
Glory
Gold
Guts
And I Ain't Got no Business Falling in Love
In this Dance of Lies and Deceit

Walk towards the Light

2009-04-25T17:45:00.001-07:00

Just Keeping Walking Forward
Straight Towards the Light
Right into the Middle
Heaven Can Wait
...I can guarantee Jesus won't have a piece of
A$$ as Tight or @ss Sweet as This

Selling Sausages

2009-04-25T17:21:00.000-07:00

And it's not even hard yet
Put it in your mouth and blow
See how Much Bigger it Gets?
But you can take it?
Can't you?
Now suck it down
Your Throat
You Love the Taste
Creamy and Sweet
Satisfying in all the right spots
Here to deliver
Pleasure
Deep inside you
Pounding you until you Scream
for More
Coating you
in Juices
And leaving you
in Bliss
Spicy
Sweet
Delicious
Sausage
Just the way
You Need it

A bathtub is not a pratical place to have sex

2009-04-24T22:04:00.001-07:00

Someone always ends up on their back bleeding and crying, or knocking out a few teeth. Case in point; I was with this guy who wanted to f$ck me while showering, and I thought... sure. I was curious as to how he was going to manage the lube until I realized he intended to use shower gel to slide up into me. Have you ever had a load of soap suds up your @ss? Well it burns. The next thing I know, this fool is fingering me with a soapy finger while whispering he can't wait to get dirty again... the body is a funny creation. When it is in pain it sort of reflexively does stuff like pull away from the source of the pain, in this case the soap which wouldn't be such a problem if there wasn't a guy holding on to my ass for dear life as a means of support. This guy fell forward face first into my soapy suddy @$$, got an eye full of the soap, was blinded, then fell backwards onto his back... I'm happy to report that I was fine... he didn't make out quite so well, while thrashing about trying to get out of the tub, he again slipped and fell face first knocking free a few... ouch. I feel sort of bad about just taking my money and leaving him there like that but what was I supposed to do? Call 911 and wait for them to come? I do hope he's alright... though I think I'm going to abstain from the tub/shower sex for a while or forever.

Simmering in the Tub

2009-04-24T21:54:00.000-07:00

My favourite client (of the moment) likes to watch me bathe. He draws a hot bath and has me stew for a bit before I wash. We rehash the day, talk about current events, and then he drops a cube of fizzing bubble wash into the water as a sign that he's ready for things to begin. I always make sure to put on a good show. I do this thing where I slip the soap in between my- well and then I drop it, which always makes him laugh. ;D Good times. Good clean times. Afterwards he blows me and off we go. I wonder if it's just an OCD cleanliness thing or if he actually thinks I'm dirty... Hmm.

In House

2009-04-24T21:40:00.000-07:00

And what do you like about me?
The way you kiss me; you kiss me like I've never been kissed before.
Love that song.
You do.
You kiss a lot of people?
Not so many.
That cost extra?
It's not exactly what most people are paying me for.
I'm not paying you at all.
That's significant.
Do you want me to pay you?
I want you to keep kissing me. Will you?
I don't know.
... Have you been to the pier?
No.
It's beautiful this time of year.
Nice sunsets and what not?
And it's peaceful... we should go.
That's a thought.
Do you want to go?
Maybe.
With me?
If I take you walking, it will be on the pier but I don't know if I want to take you walking yet.
Because I'm a whore?
Because I'm f^cked up.
We're all f^cked up.
Some of us like to deal with that before we...
Go walking on the pier.
You hungry?
You taking me to dinner?
I thought we could order in.
You don't want to go out?
If we do... I won't be able to...
Hahah- sigh. Kiss me.
Smooch...

I just wanna be friends...

2009-04-10T22:17:00.000-07:00

With your asshole. I think I'm a little bitter lately cuz this total tool I used to fuck around with got me all riled up and excited to see him, only for him to bail on me. No, he didn't just bail on me, he didn't even bother to call, or fucking text or- I don't even know why I bother. This guy is really cute, and sort of edgy, he's an amazing fucker, smart, funny, charming, and... you think can can reconnect after you've already connected- established a connection, felt that there was a connection between you. That things can work out with someone, that you're not just another hot lay to them, that this is more than just false intimacy and artifice put on for a few hundred bucks then when you're all spruced and ready to go out on the town, WHAMO! They dick you over and leave you sad and waiting and wanting to cry. Whatever, it's just sex. But it was sex that I excited about, actually getting worked up about and for once I... The last time he fucked me... it was so good I fainted. Swear to God, or Buddha, or Zeus, or whatever- I fucking came and the next thing I knew it was the morning and he was looking down at me while rubbing my head. 'You got a little excited and... well you fainted.' Then he smiled. Do you know how embarrassed I was, how stupid I felt, and then- then he kissed me and told me I was beautiful. I'm stupid for thinking this could be more than exactly what it is. Some guy who fucked me a while back, fucked me so good that I fucking fainted, calls me up out of the blue just to see if he could get me. Once he figured out he could... well, why bother following through? Why didn't I think about it? It's been 3 months. Why didn't he call me before now? Why didn't I call him? Because I didn't think it was real. Apparently it wasn't. I don't think I'm going to go out tonight. I think it's an in house night full of watching porn and laughing at the cheesy dialogue... cause you know, that always cheers me up.

...Isn't Money Love?

2009-04-10T22:02:00.000-07:00

I'll tell you after I get paid. Bitch.
The more they pay me, the harder I work.
The harder I work, the more you'll Love me.
It's not that complicated if you think about it.
Now shut up and smile like a doughnut.

My Sugar is Raw...

2009-04-10T21:52:00.000-07:00

Madonna has been on my mind lately. I think it's because I fucked this guy to her 'Hard Candy' album last weekend. The entire album. I was feeling sort of toppish again and black dick hungry white boy (re: 40 year old white men who like being whipped by the black man dick) b!tches where all up in my shit again... so why not? The guy I ended up fucking had his vice like grip in his @ss... it felt like... his @ss felt like a tongue, and a pussy, and an @ss hole dancing around my dick the entire time. It was weird. I kept wanting to blow my load but every time I got close he'd do something different and off we'd go like that for another 20 minutes. I guess that's what you call tantric. When I finally got ready to blow, he pulled off of me, ripped the condom off, and totally guzzled my load... I felt like I should have paid him to tell you the truth. Maybe I should hire a hooker (and actually pay him) or maybe I should try to make this guy a regular... Not a bad idea that.

You'll Shoot your eye out!

2009-04-10T21:47:00.000-07:00

Actually I said, 'I'll shoot my eye out!' And I wasn't kidding. I'm a big shooter, but this guy wanted me to do my self sucking bit and... well, you get the point. The thing is, I very nearly did. Shoot my eye out that is. One would think that one could just close his eyes at the precise moment of 'eruption' but then I got all caught up in what I was doing and- well... I wonder how I'm going to explain this to my doctor. If it's a 'He', I'll just offer to blow him... if it's a 'She', well that's a little bit trickier but- I'll still offer to Blow her.

Hot Latin Massage

2009-04-08T23:17:00.000-07:00

Things have been moving a little slowly in this economy of late so I'm... 'diversifying'. There has been a rise in the Latino Top hungry Johns... I've decided to 're-invent myself', like Madonna and cater (re: pander) to that trade. Maybe I'm not really half Dominican. Maybe I'm actually 100% 2nd generation Cuban. Can you prove otherwise? Didn't think so. Here's the latest advirt; reply if you're tempted:

Diegeo Luis: ___ ___ ____; give me a call (no blocked #’s,NO EMAILS). If you leave a message, I will return your call.
out-calls available, serious replies only.

I PROVIDE A FULL SENSUAL MASSAGE IN THE NUDE... AND MORE

I am an easy going HANDSOME GUY. You'll feel very comfortable, very sexy, very happy, and exploding with JOY.
Latin/handsome/MASCULINE/DISCREET Sensual, Erotic Massage. YOUNG, 5'10, 155lbs

NICE AND CLEAN PRIVATE APT
TIME SQUARE AREA SO EASY ACCESS; Cum on by and take a LOAD off now

Subtle, huh?

I knew it was going to be strange

2009-04-08T07:15:00.000-07:00

When I arrived he had no expression upon his face what so ever. For the first 10 minutes we sat in silence. That happens sometimes; the guy hiring you is so overwhelmed with what he has done, that he is actually going through with it, hiring someone for sex, that he has to take a moment to reflect. They come around eventually, usually after 2 or three minutes but this guy... Just the two of us squared off against each other, taking each other in- it was weird. Not a peep, not a smile; no indication that he was even alive. I was about to leave when out of nowhere, he stood, removed his shorts, and pulled out a rather tiny and erect penis. Again with no words, or indication that I was even there, he began jacking off. I decided to take the initiative and go with the... 'Go-a-Head'. He screamed as I took him in his mouth. He's lucky I have excellent reflexes; a lesser person would have chomped his dick off in surprise; I calmly grabbed his wrists and placed his hands on top of my head and guided him with the rhythm of my... suction. It was almost as if he'd never had a blow job before. He was so intense; thrashing about, moaning, crying, sighing, heaving, and gnashing his teeth. If it weren't for his hands, if it weren't for the fact that he was now face f^cking me, I would have thought that I were hurting him- I would have stopped, but no- He didn't want me to stop. This was simply his way of expressing joy. And that's when I suddenly heard an old woman's voice: 'IRrrrrwiiiiinnnn?' I tried to pull up, but again, he kept me down and pressed into his crotch. 'Irrrwwiiinnn, are you doing something bad? Dirty bad little things Irrwiinnn. I always know when you're being bad!' At this point I didn't care about the blowjob, how hard he was holding me down, or the fact that he was spazzing out; I was freaked and I wanted off. As I pulled away, the voice started screaming, 'BAD!', and then he started cumming and screaming, and I just stood there transfixed as I took it all in. As his orgasm subsided, he fell into a fetal position like heap holding his freshly pleasured cock, and began rocking side to side as the creepy old woman's voice which was coming from behind a here to now unnoticed pink curtain cooed, 'There there Irrrrwwwiinnn, it's all better now. Don't you feel better that it's all betterrrrrrr now?' I stood there for about a minute of this before I had enough and pulled the curtain back to reveal an olde woman sitting in her wheelchair smiling through the beediest eyes I have ever seen before in my life. 'Hullo little boy, did you eeennnnjooooy yourselffff?' I was... paralyzed with- I don't know what, but it was so entrancing that I didn't even see her stand and grab my wrist with a vice like grip which could have turned granite to dust had it wished to do so. 'Thank you for the fun, but I think it's time you to-' and she motioned towards the door with her head. As she lead me over to the door, she pulled out an envelope, stuffed it down my pants and copped a feel. 'Goodness gracious what a bubble. Have a nice day now', and with that she shoved me out into the hallway. I... knew it was going to be strange when I arrived and he refused to speak... it all feels a bit 'Psycho'-esque in retrospect but... ugh. I think I need a bit of therapy.

Selling Sausages UnderWater

2009-04-07T22:20:00.001-07:00

Whether it be to Mermen, Starfish, or Shark... I the Tart will provide you with the freshest selection of meat available... my own. Cum one, cum all and suckle on delicious underwater cock. Brought to you by The Tart. *Word of caution; I'm a grower, not a shower so contents will expand exponentially once it enters your throat... just saying.

Checking on the Bubble

2009-04-07T22:08:00.000-07:00

Don't you take pictures of your junk as the tub is filling up?

I was on my way to another job when I decided that maybe,
just maybe I should make sure the booty was still looking tight.

You see, I recently had a dream that my @ss had suddenly gone flat... As if someone had deflated it... let the air out if you will. I know it's not exactly possible... but still- dreams of having a flat @ss are frightening.

Here are the impromptu, in water results... Never fear! I think we can safely say that things are still quite tight. ;) And even better, clean! Delicious plump juicy booty. Take a bite out of that bubble.

Servicing Barack Obama

2009-04-07T20:34:00.000-07:00

No I haven't actually had sex with the big man in the White House... yet. Nor do I exactly expect to... Michelle Obama may look dainty and demure, but she also looks like a 'sista' and unlike those other politicians' b!tches, if word leaked that Barack was hitting it on the DL, on the up high, or anywhere else that wasn't in her punani and I bet she'd have his balls (and mine) on a kebob so fast it'd make your head spin. So this is all 'fantasy'. This is a picture of Barak Obama's penis (or as I imagine it to look). As you can tell, his white mama decided to leave him intact... yes that's right. Beautiful and uncut. Michelle says he has B.O. in the morning, so I'm going to guess he doesn't 'manscape' down there, but I don't mind. When you're riding the President's cock in Lincoln's bedroom, you're not exactly concerned about how much he's sweat in those tight undies he's wearing... no you don't. I'm going to take a wild guess and say he's swinging around an 8 and a half or a 9, maybe even a 10. Michelle's a tall lady and she always looks so smug and satisfied when ever any white women (or boys) come along. It's like she's saying, 'that's right b!tch, that's all mine. All 10 inches of that raw uncut dick digging up in me, and you ain't gonna get any. You either Newt Gingrich, so back off fatty McFatt Fatt.'
Barack is always tired after a hard day of working, so he likes it when I crawl into the Oval Office between meetings and take him under that desk... sometimes Hilary comes in and he just sits there smiling... she doesn't know what's going on, why he doesn't say anything, why just drools and rolls his eyes at her. If, she didn't know better she'd say she was turning him on... Sorry Hil, it's not you. It's my magik mouth working it's mojo on that fat cock. As soon as she's done blabbering about whatever, he grabs me by my wrists, pulls me up onto the desk and fucks me right then and there. He's tall, so loves to do those long strokes... nice and deep, but I'm not passive bottom so when I feel him about to cum, I knock him back into his seat and ride him into the sunrise of.... mmm. We sit there after he finishes as his juices drain out of me until his cock slips out or grows hard again. Depending on what's next on the agenda, I either make him take me doggy style facing the windows, or I squeeze him, and work that fat cock over with my hole until he's gushing again. No matter what though, even if it's Sarkozy outside waiting, he insists upon taking my freshly seeded ass and tasting the beautiful work he's put into me before I go... Mmmm. Of course this is all fantasy. Like I said, I have not yet serviced Barack Obama (so back the fuck off Michelle!) But a boy can dream.... and cream... can't he?

A kind Man...

2009-04-07T18:56:00.000-07:00

I love those men. They shower me with kisses. They understand the meaning of sex and joy. None of this fetish bullsh!t. Just pure good ole fashioned f^cking. What a relief to be free of the guy who can only get off while wearing his mother's bustier. How novel an idea it is; having sex without pain or tears. Imagine being in someone's arms while smiling, truly smiling if only for a moment. It may be for pay, but does that mean it can't be mutually enjoyed? I wish everyone were as kind. Even if it got a bit dull and vanilla... I'd love to have a kind man for a boyfr- . It's funny; finding a great guy in this capacity. He wants you because he can do all the things he can't do with his wife, partner, mistress, or girlfriend. He appreciates you more than he can ever appreciate any other them because you understand each other. What it means to take, what it means to give, what it means to have joy with out judgement. What it is to smile in the moment, and afterwards, even as you're washing the smell of that moment from your flesh, you still retain that smile. A kind man's smile. I'll carry him with me for a moment longer before I return to... Hi; yeah. I can do that. Nothing to rough though. I'm not a pussy- you'll see. Show me what you had in mind and... Smile.

We re-connected on Wednesday

2009-04-07T17:52:00.000-07:00

It was great. I was walking through the tunnel towards the 7 train (had a client in Sunnyside Queens) when I spotted him walking in the other direction. It was one of those double take moments when you see something you like, turn back, smile and stop. We didn't say anything, we just walked right towards each other and with a nod walked towards the exit. 10 minutes later we were going at it, playing the doctor who lost his thermometer up his patient's bum (a favourite past time ;)) Before you knew it I was blowing my load and he was quick to follow. I don't like being f^cked too much after I cum- I get sore, you know? And he remembered. I collapsed on him and we lay there stewing in our juices and silences. He pulled me up towards him and kissed my forehead and said, we should do that again, only next time- lets use a condom. I mean, I don't normally do this sort of thing but- you got wrap it up- you don't have anything do you? I looked at him and smiled for a second. He had no idea. He didn't remember me at all. To him I was just some pick up f^ck; even better he was feeding me a line. The last time we f^cked we went at it 'unwrapped too'; I guess he forgot that too. For a second I was going to say as much but- I suddenly felt dirty and wanted to be out of there, so I told him what he needed to hear, grabbed my stuff and left. I wonder why people have sex and lie about it. Not so much lie about it to their partners, but lie about it to themselves. I wonder if it helps them sleep at night. The next time I see someone like that... I think I'll just keep walking. I wonder if I'm lying to myself- crap! My client!

So a reporter contacted me

2009-04-07T17:36:00.000-07:00

Asking if he could do an interview into this life style? The conditions; total anonymity for both of us, (no actual names or images would be used), we would meet over dinner and discuss what goes on in these situations, and most importantly this would be unpaid. So basically this mother f^ker is a creative bastard trying to get his fucking rocks off on my God D@mned dime. Well, I agreed to meet with him because I'm a dick. I played my part perfectly; I was charming, witty, enjoyable- basically everything he wanted me to be but as dinner drew to a close I had a little ace up my sleeve. I had hired a hooker myself to come and bust up our dinner- basically some queen to throw a hissy fit over his cheating man and after everything he's been through- it's one thing when it's your WIFE but scoring on some other trick behind his back- I don't think so punk @ss b!tch cum guzzling punami munching hooptey... I don't know what any of it meant but the guy was mortified and in the ensuing drama I very gracefully extracted myself from a sticky situation... I wonder if I remembered to pay my whore... Minor detail; I'm sure my reporter won't mind covering me IF I didn't. ;)

What do you do when you find yourself on X-tube?

2009-04-07T17:22:00.000-07:00

I know who did it. I even had a feeling that he was taping it which why I insisted upon wearing a mask the entire time- but I didn't give him permission and I certainly didn't think he would actually post it! Is that even legal? I mean technically I could bust him because I'm only 17 but- oh fuck; 17's the age of consent in NY state... but is it for commerce and porn? Where's Traci Lords when you need her? Ugh... I should sue him... No, I should... fuck. I hate this. It's a total invasion of my rights and- I didn't agree to it and you can totally tell that it's me! I'd go to the cops but... fuck. Fucking bastard fucking taping his fucking me. Though this doesn't have to be a bad thing... I could use it. Send it to people who want to know how I am in bed. Let them know what they have to look forward to. Genius. Why didn't I think of this before? Still... I'll get him- I'll send a hooker to his house- no! A cracked out hooker and tell him I've got toys and goodies for him to play with. Never mess with a Tart's image. Whether you're nailing close up, or giving it to him from behind, you should always ask before recording a fuck. It's only polite.

His name was Don

2009-04-07T17:15:00.000-07:00

Like Don Juan and he made Love to me better than I thought you could make and after we were done he held me in his arms and laughed in my face. 'Look at you. So sweet; so delicious; so innocent except you're not. Get out of here kid. I've got shit to do.' I'm not used to being the one kicked out of bed but what am I supposed to do? Cry? Beg? Ask for more? It's a job and I roll with the punches even when I want to punch back. So I jump from beneath the covers, grab my envelope which he has so insultingly left waiting for me on the banister, grab my clothes and head towards the door. 'Aren't you going to- ' Before he can say another word, I fling open the door and yell into the hallway of the hotel, 'Thanks Papi; and so generous too would you mind- uhh! Cleaning that up? Ciao.' And off I go skipping down the hallway leaving my trickling shower of gold on the floor for the bastard Don Juan to clean up. I really should grow up but... c'mon, he was baiting me. What was I supposed to do? Swallow his shit with a smile? I'm not into scat.

Smart, Juicy, Fit and...

2009-04-07T17:07:00.000-07:00

Old enough to be my father which I don't mind except now he wants to be more 'boyfriend'. Boyfriend; what the fuck does that even mean? I have to stop fucking other guys? I have to be in bad at a certain hour? Why not cut the bullshit and call it slavery. I mean what's the point? I still have to pay my bills; I still have to responsibility for myself. Or what; is he going to give me a little allowance now too, and call it even. I don't get these guys. Either way you look at it, it's still the same thing. I could even cheat on him and keep it up. That's what this is really about pride... and arrogance, and hubris too, or something. He wants me to crawl to him and say, 'Yes, Daddy the dick is that good. So good, I'll give everything else up and stay with you in your arms and cry and scream harder Daddy, give it to me Daddy, just make me your boi-pussy Daddy, that's all I want.' Insolent. To think that any one man could satisfy me- could be my everything- could Love me in a world where you buy Love... and at a discount too. Sorry Daddy; you're fucking with the wrong... sex worker. I'll miss you, and the money, and the kindness but... it's this much nicer of me. You won't have to worry about the heartbreak that's surely to come or drama you're inviting into your bed and... I wish I could be what you think I am but I'm... Goodbye.

The Tart Date

2009-04-07T16:56:00.000-07:00

Ugh! Huh- huh- eow! Agh! Agh! Don’t stop pumping! Yes! Yes! Agggh!
Here, turn over. Ugh, Ugh, Fuck! I’m Coming! Ugh! Do you mind if I wash up?
Not at all. (He exits for the bathroom.) That was great.
(From the bathroom.) Yeah. I needed that.
Me too. Things have been so stressed with work lately; you know?
Yeah. (He comes back in and begins dressing.)
I’ve been working on these new designs for this dress but nothing comes-
That what you do?
Yeah; design; fashion. Nothing major but-
Cool.
What about you?
I freelance. Videography; photography; stuff.
Sounds fun.
I like it. I like getting off more though.
Yeah.
You’ve got great lips.
You too.
Very full.
Very passionate.
Ha-ha. Thanks.
No really.
Well it is sex. I mean why bother if you’re just going to lay there
True.
Can I get your opinion on something?
Sure.
(The Tart pulls out a dress.) What do you think?
Well I don’t wear dresses.
C’mon.
It looks nice. I’d let my girlfriend wear-
You have a- ?
If I had one.
Ha-ha. Right. Sorry about that. Forcing my designs down your throat.
It’s cool.
I mean, that’s why we pay focus groups and-
You wanted to show me something you were proud of it’s fine.
Thanks.
So, I gotta get going.
Oh? Uh- you didn’t want anything to drink, or to shower-
I’ll do that when I get home. Thanks. Where’s my jacket?
Oh, I hung it up. (The Tart goes to retrieve his jacket)
Great manners.
(The Tart returns with his jacket.) My parents raised me well.
(He smiles as he takes his jacket.) So thanks.
That was my first time- my first time since I broke up with my-
Oh.
Yeah.
I hope it was good.
Am I- will I see you again?
If you want to, you know where to find me. G’night. (He exits.)
Wow. That was… I might as well be a whore.

First time in a Brothel

2009-02-07T16:05:00.000-08:00

So I broke one of my rules. I have a list of '10 Commandments' that I adhere to strictly when I work. They're sort of a common sense don't do that because doing that would be f$cking stupid code by which I govern my behaviour and prolong my well being. One of those rules is, don't work with Brothels or Pimps. Ever. It's a bad idea no matter how you look at at it. In the first place you don't want to be on file in some one's list of customers or clients in case they ever get raided by the IRS and coming looking for you. Also, one of the perks of this job is you get to work for yourself so why would you compromise that by working for someone else? And finally, working at a Brothel generally means two things; you can't find work on your own and you really are an uber whore. So neither of those two things are true for me it's just that... well someone offered me a lot of money to be in this 3-some but the other 3-some participant is this Chinese chick (re: sex slave) who only works through her Madame at her Brothel and so I find myself in this decadent penthouse on the upper east side between Park and Madison. This is also my first time having a 3-some. I don't like 3-somes. I never do them but... well, 10 G's is 10 G's... listen to me, I sound like a rapper or something. I don't mind that she's a chick- I bang chicks all the time, but 3-somes make me feel like I have to compete and we all know I HATE competing. Things went well until it was time to go; the girl got really emotional and wanted us to stay longer because we (I think she meant just me actually) were the only good looking mean with whom she ever got to interact and with us going, it meant she might have to work again that night. Sigh; I hate Brothels. I hate sex slaves and I hate being involved. So I left. And called the police and reported a disturbance, but not before I bought a bag of cocaine and smeared it all over the entrance to the brothel... I hope that girl gets the help she needs. I hope things turn out okay, but mostly I hope this doesn't come back to bite me in the ass.

My War against Rent Boy dot com

2009-02-07T15:39:00.000-08:00

So there is this website where young nubile (or old and haggard) hookers can post there ads and pictures to secure clientele. It's EVIL!!! EVIL I TELL YOU! EVIL! Why am I morally opposed to this site you wonder? It's competition! And I hate hate HATE competition. Someone had the audacity to write me last night and then not go with me at the last minute because he found someone who was willing to do the same things for cheaper on Rent Boy! Nothing pisses me off more than a cheap potential customer than a cheap trick. So johns are price comparing now?! Is this really what we've come to as a a society; trying to get off as cheaply as possible? When will people learn that it's not the money, its' the quality! I blame Rent Boy for this shift in common sense and Rent Boy... I won't forgive you! It's on like Donkey Kong! How will I secure my revenge you wonder? Well, I've offered to 'sponsor' a young poor whore I know on the site out of the kindness of my heart and because I know he's got a few STD's floating around in his system and because he also happens to be a Christian Scientists, well he thinks praying to Jesus is all he needs to do. Keep sucking on that Jesus juice I tell him. I've even offered to help him get a few customers... prominent officials I know within NYC's judicial and legislative system who can't help taking a bite out of a young blond twink's @ss (Don't ask me why. I hate hate blonds.) The thing is, once said officials' wives realize they've been given something more than a little kiss there will be hell to pay and I do believe the heat will be on for Rent Boy and all of it's operating business partners (at least within NYC). Sure I have to make a sacrifice of my little friend but... well, I believe in ascending to the top by stepping on the spines of as many people possible. Can you blame me? There's a recession going on and I can't have people cutting into my profits!

How to be a Whore during a Recession

2009-02-07T15:12:00.000-08:00

Times are hard- heh. Especially for people in my line of work. With more and more people out of work and with fewer people possessing disposable income I am faced with the two greatest risks in my profession. No; not Herpes or Cops, though those are rather annoying the risks of which I speak are Poor Cheap Bastards and Competition (the Bane of my Existence)! I saw a guy posting on Craigslist last night who used to be one of my customers. F$cking ungrateful bastard, trying to cut in on my money! And the idiot posted his actual face pictures. You never show your face, even when you're sending pictures of yourself, you make sure that it's a picture that could be you but that could also be your less good looking cousin. So how am I surviving during these difficult times? The name of this A game is subterfuge. First I flag as many postings as I can manage every half hour or so; most of them are multitple posts anyway. Then I call or write to people who have posted and set up fake dates with them. When your competition is cutting in on your territory, distraction is the best way to go. Another game of distraction I play is writing as a concerned 'reformed whore' who has contracted herpes, Gonnorhea, or worse... scabies from sleeping around. I warn of the dangers inherent in this profession and plead with people to back out and find 'honest work' before they come down with something like I did. This also has the terrible side effect of scaring off some potential customers but... well, you have to sacrifice a few to get a few, and if they're that easily scared away then they don't really want it, do they? I also make use of my handy dandy digital camera to post pictures of my @ss or d%ck in different poses so I can post repeatedly as many different people. People don't like seeing the same advirtisement posted over and over again- it makes them think no one is buying and for a good reason, or that the person is just your run of the mill pathetic tired old (ie 25) slut which no one wants. My final stroke of genius is recording myself masturbating with numerous toys and condiments and putting it on X-tube with a link to it in my displayed prominently within my ad. That really gets people hungry. Really, this and setting up fake appointments with other whores have been the greatest weapons in my campaign to stay on top and not go broke or lose out against the competition but dealing with cheap bastards? Well those guys, I report to the cops or tell them to meet me somewhere where I've also sent another whore. The results are always unhappily confusing and sometimes explosive. Even better it makes it so that the cheap bastards are no longer looking on line. Thin out the competition and liquidate the low quality customers means that the cream of the crop are left for the cream of the crop and that is how how I am surviving the recession. It's a bit Machevellian and I think I might be going to hell but... at least I'm on the top.

What does he want from me?

2009-02-07T14:34:00.000-08:00

I wonder what movie we'll watch this time. Every time he calls me, it's to watch a movie or to have a glass of wine, not that I mind. It's nice having a night off from f%cking. Still... I wonder how long he's going to keep this up- this whole, 'I really enjoy your company' thing. I can't imagine that he's paying me to sit around and watch movies with him all night long or to talk about how wonderful the tannins are but when ever I try to get things started he excuses himself or pulls away. It's almost like he's not attracted to me which couldn't be true because- well I'm hot, or at least most people think so and who pays a hot guy to just sit around being hot? Last night I came over and I took off all of my clothes and just smiled the entire time and once again... nothing. We watched, 'It Happened One Night', which I took to be a clever hint but... I love that movie. Claudette Colbert is a genius. I love tha scene where she shows a bit of leg and- Still. I swear to God I can't believe I'm actually complaining that someone isn't trying to f%ck me for once. I wonder if he's a serial killer. Oh God I can just see the headlines now- but there probably won't be any headlines, this son of a bitch is that good. This isn't even a door man building and I didn't see any cameras in the lobby so no one knows I'm here and- I should leave... but I want the money. What am I talking about he isn't a serial killer, he's too nice.... it's the nice ones you have to to watch out for! Oh God he has a knife! Help me Mary, Jesus, John Smith, Buddah-oh it's for the cheese... well now I feel stupid. He's asking if I liked the movie... This is so stressful; I wish he would decide what he wants from me and just come clean with it. He's giving me a hug and apparently this is the last time he'll see me- but I don't want him to go! This is the best gig ever and what did I do wrong?! Oh, he has to go back to his wife in Germany and- I don't understand some people. He's had me over this entire time for no sex, just my beautiful sparkling company. Hell, it's not like we ever even really talked about anything but tannins and that's all he- sigh. Whatever. Stupid Germans. I thought Germans were supposed to be perverted freaks. At least he could've asked to tape me taking a sh#t or something. I must be losing my touch. Can't complain too much though... money is money is money is money and I don't have to bother smelling like him... I wonder how he smells. I wonder if I'll ever see him again. I hope he'll call me the next time he's in town... Humphf.

Got My Number

2009-02-07T14:13:00.000-08:00

I was walking down the street by the Lincoln Center when this man stopped me and asked if I would like to go to dinner. I'd just finished working with a beautiful infertile middle aged man who could only get off when he was being beaten and spat upon- but that's another story- anyway, I'd just finished working so I thought, 'a free meal, why not?' We dined at Fiorello's and then he took me to the movies, Broke Back Mountain of all things, just in case I didn't get the hint, and then he very surprisingly asked for my number. No sex offers, no objectifying, just, 'May I call you sometime?' I told him he could have my email address and if he was really interested, well then he would write and make it happen. Of course he never wrote again and I begin to wonder as I walk to my next appointment if I shouldn't have just given him my number outright but- Ah, enough of that; worrying about 'dates' isn't a sensible occupation for one such as me. I should have told him to 'disappear and never show your face before me again' but one does get up hope every once in a while for... Anyway, I'm at my next appointment... oh, look at who just answered the door. It seems he he had my number after all.

The Wonder Year Return

2009-02-07T14:10:00.000-08:00

I love the women and men who want to care of me. They see my pretty little face, my charming little smile, and hear the big 50 cent words coming out of this young buck's mouth and they think, 'I want to save this precious child; rescue him from the horrible path he's taken.' What they mean is save me for themselves so no one else will drink of my nectar. Salvation is funny that way; it's selfish and it doesn't want to share, so it smothers with money, and awful tender kisses, and 'love' until you're too weak or confused or stupid to runway. They hold me tight, wrap me with kisses, and take me into their homes and I let them keep me for a little while- well as long as they can- for as long as I can bear their touch and then I run away, back to my lonely bed reaking of their smell- the smell that never comes out. It's a terrible thing, being loved by someone you can't love, someone who mistakes lust for love. You can never wash away the stench. No matter how hard you scrub it is always with you. The only think one can do is replace that smell with another. So you go out and smile and look deep into another man or woman's winking eye and you let them into you for a little while or until you can forget what it is to reek of that person sweat, and then you run away back to your bed again reeking of the stench that comes with a thousand sweaty kisses. I wonder how I smell now.

Cumming is money

2009-02-07T14:06:00.000-08:00

I hate fun. Well, not really, I hate customers who want to see my enjoy myself. I hate it when they want me to get off too. I try to get around with the line, 'There's more in it for me than a simple orgasm', but then that gets some of them thinking that I'm calling them shallow- or worse some of them just don't care and need me to get off so they can get off. 'But I get off on getting you off.' B$tch, then get a f#cking boyfriend. I ain't here for that Sh$t. God; whatever happened to 'wham bam thank man that was big'!? I blame Obama and his bullsh*t, 'Yes we can' politics. What the H#ll does that even mean? Yes we can... reform the whore, turn the whore into a friend, conquer the whore, make the whore love me? I don't know but I think it's a stupid game and I don't want to play anymore but... sigh... I should just carry a tazer and shock the hell out them once I've finished f#cking the hell out them, take my money (plus an extra 10 percent for tithing purposes of courses) and be on my merry little gay way. The thing that no one seems to get, that I can't actually say to anyone is, I usually have a whole line of customers lined up (remember, I just got back from traveling, and though you wouldn't expect it, Africa is quite expensive) and the fewer times I blow a load, the easier the night is for me. I should start making them pay extra for my cum... yeah- I'll be f$cking them and then I'll stop and say, 'I can get you off, but if you want me to cum too... well that's an extra 300 cuz cum is precious in my religion and I like to save it for when I'm confessing or saying my prayers at night.' I wonder if they'll buy that.

You only have so much of it

2009-02-07T13:51:00.001-08:00

A loss of innocence is no small thing. It's not a terrible thing either but once it's gone... it's gone forever. I have this feeling that I lose a little bit more of myself every time I have sex- well, sell myself for sex. It's not such a terrible thing but once it's gone... like I said, there's no getting it back. And so I wonder, how long can I do this thing? How long can I be a- ? Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and I wonder is this really my life? I have a beautiful apartment in Gramercy Park, a brilliant college education, and more talent than I know what to do with and how do I spend my days and nights? Searching for men and women who want to buy sex. What would my parents think? F*ck them anyway. I don't know if that's such a terrible thing... It's a job, and a well paying occupation. If only for a moment I bring a bit of joy to lonely men and women who wouldn't know what to do without me and still I wonder... is the money I make worth the loss of- ? Ha-ha, what am I going on about? I hate it when I get like this. Time to jump in the shower, rinse off, oil the body up, and take a pill of Viagra. It's not just for old people you know. Sometimes I'm so disgusted with myself and what I'm doing that I don't think I could get a hard on even if I were offered a million dollars. But that's what they're paying me for; to get hard. So I take the pill and I sell them a little bit of my innocence. It's not such a bad trade. Like I said, I have a nice apartment and... and I get to attend all the social events of the city, I even donate money to charity and- and I wonder... will they still want me, that is- will they be able to tell when I'm all out? Will they still want me once I've run out of innocence? Ahem; I have to go to work now.

It's been a while...

2009-02-07T13:41:00.001-08:00

I've been a way having adventures around the globe- continuing to 'Whore it up' of course but now I'm back and... I wish I could say refreshed, and freshly renewed to continue my adventures anew but truthfully I'm a bit pooped. I think I need a vacation from my vacation and... why did I return to the city in the middle of the freaking winter? Do you know that it's summer in Australia right now? I just flew in from Sydney and allow me to say that contrary to popular belief, 'The Mile High Club' is really not all it's chocked up to be. For one thing, the freaking bathrooms are two small, and you keep getting interrupted every 10 minutes by losers trying to take a piss- well piss of f$ckers, I'm busy, you know? And then, no one actually plans to be a member of the The Club. It just sort of happens spur of the moment like and since you're not allowed to carry liquids or gels on board, (apparently Lube is a weapon of Mass Destruction) and since they don't sell (or condoms) on the air plane (I asked and got a suspicious look from the flight attendant) we were forced to improvise with hand soap and a mini plastic bag... long story short I got impatient and ended up turning him over and f^cking him before I pulled out and shot all over his hair. He needed product to fix his hair anyway. So now I'm back and... well if I'm not ready to go, I better get ready 'cause, traveling's expensive even when you're Whoring your across the globe. Anyone know anyone who's buying? The economy has me worried and... well, nuff said. On with the show, yo.

A glimpse of Heaven

2008-11-02T15:13:00.000-08:00

He doesn't want anything from me. We meet for coffee and I tell him how I'm doing, then he pays the bill, slips something into my bag and is off until the next time. That's the pattern of our life. It all started as a simple date. He was a bit older and I liked him well enough but I didn't know if it was going to go anywhere because... well whores can't really afford to date, now can they? This had been going on for about 2 weeks with no sex, no demands, just perfect gentility, and I was really enjoying myself with how human being with him made me feel when suddenly out of the blue he stopped calling all together. I tried to pretend that it didn't bother me, but the truth was that it crushed me. When you've never had any one treat you well you don't think much of it, in fact you don't even know that it's a possibility until the moment it happens and as soon as it does... you get hooked. You start to think that you might be worth something, that you're not just a bag of tricks and dirty moments. My friends all took the tough love route; it was only 2 weeks after all, so why are you crying? They meant well but it didn't help one bit. This was half a year ago. Things resolved themselves in the strangest of ways. He called me and begged for forgiveness and asked to see. Like a love struck puppy of course I said yes, and as usual we had a wonderful date only this time he asked me back to his place and promptly proceeded to tell me what he knew about me which is to say, everything. I thought that this was his way of being cruel and clever; inviting me over as a friend or lover and then making me perform as his sex slave but no... he didn't want to have sex with me. He didn't want me to be his slave at all. In fact he told me that he wouldn't have sex with me and the possiblity of a romance was nil... instead he would become my patron... to give me an alternative to doing this. I didn't understand, I don't understand, I just cried and sobbed and cried some more. And so that is the way it is between us. We meet every other week for coffee or supper and he slides me way too much money, pays for dinner, and then he's off. Before he departs he always tells me that I am worth more than this and he's looking forward to the day that I stop. I smile and say, 'Oh, getting tired of being my benefactour?', and he responds, 'No, not that, I look forward to the day you stop seeing others in that way.' And then he's gone. I don't understand him. I certainly appreciate him and on some level think I love him... I don't know what I am or feel anymore... not that I ever did, but I think on some level had convinced myself that I had it all figured out... Knowing him has sure made doing this much more complicated than it ever was before. What to do, what to do, what to do, what to do?

-The Tart

Oh Me of MY! Fucking Size Queen Cry!

2008-11-02T07:42:00.000-08:00

Size Queens of the world Unite! So this fucker keeps going on about how beautiful my dick looks in my pic and I'm like do you want to get together or not, but he's all like, only if it's 9 inches or bigger, which it's not which I clearly state in my ad, and besides I think if he likes the way it looks so much why does it even matter, even more so, why did he fucking bother writing me in the first place. Now, my first instinct is that this is a fake Fucker just writing to waste my fucking time and fuck with me, but I haven't had anyone write me yet so I figure I'll take the bait and see if it cums to anything. In the first place while not 9 inches my dick is quite ample; it's a full real 8 incher and very pretty. In my head I say, 'what the fuck does an inch matter, it's not like it's going to matter much once we get into it'. And in the second place people who go on ooh and awing about dick can never take it anyone. The second you get pumping they starting whining about how big it is and to go slower cuz it hurts. 'Well bitch, you wanted it now you're going to take it!' I end up lying to this guy and as soon as I show up and whip it out, true to Size Queen wanna be form he starts going on about how he doesn't know if he'll be able to handle something that big, and if I'm not sure that it's actually a 10 incher. Yeah right. I ended up just letting this dude suck and jack me off (which I hate... masturbation does nothing for me.); I ended up face fucking him actually, which he sucked at too... ha. But at least I got my fucking money. Long story short; don't be a size queen in you can't handle the thick dick.

Thank God I Get paid for being Pretty

2008-10-25T23:30:00.000-07:00

I was on the train and I heard this really bitchy man tell his gal pal, 'Sweet heart, nobody ever got laid being beautiful on the inside. You heard? Let me say it again loud and clear for ya honey; being beautiful on the inside never got nobody laid.' I nearly died of laughter and then I thought, 'He's right!' Thank God I'm a whore... and really really obscenely pretty. Smiles. I wonder if ugly people feel empty on the inside like I do... well, being beautiful on the inside probably makes you ugly on the outside and I'm not willing to sacrifice my magnificence for ANYTHING! You dig? How is it that song goes? God must spent a little more time on Me? Yes; that's it! Well God Did. And thank her for it.

-The Tart

The Cleft in My Chin...

2008-10-25T23:24:00.000-07:00

is a sign of how much my father loved my mum. Loved my mum, but not me that is. If he had, he would have had more patience and waited. My father died in a car accident the day I was born; he was so eager to get to my mum that he ran a red light and plowed right into a garbage truck. Idiot. We never had a chance to sit down and talk about the important things men like to talk about like, basset hounds and motor boats, but I was able to meet him a few times before I was born. Do you know how cleft chins are made? They happen when a man has sex with his wife while she's pregnant. The nuns at my school feel sorry for me. 'Poor Bastard DL,' they say, 'He hasn't got a father; he's a f^cking bastard.' I don't really mind. Maybe I never got to spend more than a few abrupt minutes with the man but I figure that was more than enough time for him to scar me, or at least my chin for life. Maybe it's better this way... now I only have to deal with one F^cked up parent... and her post op tranny lover and only then when I bother to call them which is admittedly not that often mind you. People say you spend your entire adulthood getting over your parents; I figure this way I'll finish up twice as fast and move right on to getting over myself. With all the fucked shit I pull I figure I'll done in no time... I just have to find my Daddy Father Figure to cure me of my cock obsession and I'll be fine and over the terrible scar I walk around with every day. I think I'm actually straight; it's my Daddy Chin Issues that make me a gay whore... Maybe reconstructive surgery can help... I wonder how many dudes I'll have to fuck to pay for that....

Imminent Sex

2008-10-25T23:08:00.000-07:00

Why is it that second I approach a client's house I instantly begin praying for an accident; fantasizing that something will go terribly wrong or in this case terribly right; well nothing too serious, just enough to make it so I won't have to go through with it. Preferably to my customer... honestly, I hate pain and can't stand the idea of coming to harm. You'd think that by this point I'd have become more accustomed to what I'm doing but the truth is behind my 'devil-may-care-it's-just-a-job' veneer I'm terrified. I worry that when I show up the guy will be an undercover cop or a wacked out coke head and I'll have to fight for my life. Sometimes it gets so bad that I just don't bother to show up. I walk up to the house, sometimes even take the elevator up and just as I'm about to ring the bell, I turn and high tale it for the streets. Lost money sure but peace of mind in knowing that nothing went wrong... this time. God I need more peace of mind. Hell, I don't even believe in God but I will if it will give me back peace of mind... Zeus, Poseidon, Thoth, Set, Hera, Athena, Buddha, Loki, Freya, somebody Give Me Back The Peace of Mind I Crave! Send me a consistent and caring Patron who'll spoil me and take care of me and never think to hurt me. Is that too much to ask? Today I'm heading to a flat in Gramercy Park and I'm hoping the guy will be cool; I think he's loaded; with an address like that he must be and people with money are always secure and generous... maybe he'll be the one for me. I'm getting tired of dealing with 7 different guys a day with only 2 of them coming of anything worthwhile and even then being really kooky when I show up. We'll see how this one goes. Keep Your Fingers Crossed!

Denial of Profession on my Ass

2008-10-25T22:35:00.000-07:00

Whimsical Musings of a whore: An unfiltered walk through the Whore's memories; both recent and long past.

So how have you been?
Swell; things are finally looking up.
Nice. Got a new job?
Something like that.
Well, whatever you're doing it must pay well.
How do you figure?
Don't bullshit me; New Dolce and Gabbanas, the Tony Lamas, Diesel; either you won the lottery or your earning some major dough.
I'm a smart shopper. What about you; how are you doing?
Well this is a tough market.
Yeah.
A lot of people are losing their jobs out there; luckily not me yet but- you know.
I hear ya; I'm glad I don't have to worry about that right now.
Yeah... Are you an escort?
No. No! Why; do you need one?
I'm not a gay man.
Escorts can be straight too.
Hmm- I'd never considered that.
Why do you ask?
Well, I just don't see how you're affording all this new shit.
Not that it's any of your business-
You're right, it's not-
But it could be that I'm just really good with managing my money.
I suppose.
Or I'm a drug dealer. Is this because I'm black?
Oh definitely. It's because you're black and I'm a racist against other black people. Cause that makes total sense.
It happens all the time. What; you're saying black people can't be racist against black people? That's racist.
No retard; I'm saying I'm NOT racist.
Then why do you assume I'm an escort?
Because I'm an idiot. How's that?
Oh. Okay. Would it bother you if I were an escort?
Of course not. I'm a Christian; we NEVER judge.
Maybe I should become a Christian.
I don't think Jesus allows other drug dealers into our club.
Oh.... makes sense. Then I'll stay a Satanist.
Good idea. You guys have a better health plan anyway.
Yeah; I never got that begging Jesus to heal me thing.
I don't think anyone ever has.
Maybe you should become an escort; I hear it's good money.
I don't think I could sleep with myself-
You're not sleeping with yourself dummy; you're sleeping with other people.
That's what I mean doof; I couldn't sleep knowing I was a whore.
Escort; not whore.
Same difference.
Well, I think it's a swell idea... in fact, I'm going to look into it.
You do that; tell me how it goes when you've figured a few things out.
Will do buddy.

Tricks of the Trade

2008-10-24T23:38:00.000-07:00

Whimsical Musings of a whore: An unfiltered walk through the Whore's memories; both recent and long past.
You're given money to do a service only the thing being asked of you is something you'd really rather not do... what's to be done. The easiest thing is to simply grab the cash and run but you've got this bit of integrity in you that says you can't just steal so instead you try to cheat and trick your way into the money. Like giving a blow job instead of getting fucked. You're still providing a service, and an amazing one at that, just not the one they thought you'd be providing. And the conversation is always brilliant, and the experience a delight... is it so wrong to swap one trick for another? What happens when the person gets upset that you've 'tricked' them? They've already cum and there's no going back; a guy can't just reverse time or undue an orgasm, and when you're 40 it's not exactly possible to get back up and going again- Personally I don't see why he was so upset. So things didn't go down the way he wanted them to but is that any reason to try to cheat me out of my fee. He had no way of knowing that I did it on purpose. To tell you the truth I was shocked that he came so quickly; I was at least expecting another 5 minutes, but a few minutes in he's already blowing like Mt. Saint Helena and looking at me as if I've murdered his mother. He should be so lucky to have had my lips wrapped around his cock, but this dude- he didn't want to see it that way. In his mind, I had taken advantage of him and he was resolved to not let me get away with it. 'What are you going to do? Kill me?' I already had my money (Rule Number 1 is always get the money first or know where it's going to be or leave. No, ifs, ands or buts about it.) This guy wanted me to give him back part of the money. I offered to give him a massage but he wasn't interested. Ultimately I ended up giving him a black eye and smashing his table. I got a cut from a piece of the glass that came off of the table... I'm not proud of it but you can't let a punk bully you around. It's either stand up for yourself or get stomped all over every day for the rest of your life and I... I've still got a lot of living to do even if it is as a tart. I don't expect that this guy will try to press charges, I mean if any sort of investigation of it opened up, he wouldn't be able to keep his role in the entire affair secret and I would certainly raise bloody hell. Still; I don't like that he has my number... I wonder if he'll try calling me again. Maybe he secretly gets off on having his ass handed to him... Nah. I doubt it.

-The Tart

Make up your God Damn Mind!

2008-10-21T22:36:00.000-07:00

Whimsical Musings of a whore: An unfiltered walk through the Whore's memories; both recent and long past.

How much?
$300.
Oh... can we make it $159. All I want to do is-
It's $300 straight up.
Let me think about it.
Okay. But I'm worth it and just so you know, that is the going rate, unless you're dealing with a crackhead.
Okay- no big deal. Can you host?
Sure, but only for the next 3 hours.
That's not a lot of time.
I thought you said you had to be done by-
You're right; what am I talking about? That's plenty of time. Sorry. I'm just-
No problems. What were you looking to get into?
I don't know. This or that. I don't do this a lot.
Neither do I. Still; you kind have need to have some idea of what you-
What do you like to do?
Well- Rim, suck, fuck, kiss- as long as it's safe it's all good.
You clean?
Yes, and I don't do any drugs either.
How do you look again?
I sent you my picture-
I know but is that really you?
Yes.
Sorry I just-
Why would I send you a picture of someone not me?
Sorry- yeah, you're right it's- you're not a cop or anything, are you?
No; are you?
No. No. Just had to ask for-
Yeah. So?
You know what- actually, um. Never mind. I- maybe another time.
...
I get it. I could be a cop, or a crazy person, or have a billion diseases, or a total misrepresentation of who I say I am. This is scary stuff; I get that; I really do, but it you're just going to flake on me or decide that you're not into it at the last minute why don't you just save us both the trouble and go rent a porn instead; leave me out of the equation all together. Ugh! Some guys; I swear all they want is the thrill of talking to an actual 'hooker' online; such narcissism galls me especially when it comes into my livelihood. What amounts to a 'cheap' thrill for others is my life and I don't appreciate being toyed with. That's why I've developed a sort of protocol with communication. I call it the 3 strikes and you're out edict; if after 3 emails we haven't set anything up or at least exchanged contact information I stop responding all together. Usually really chatty dudes are just fat fucks with nothing better to do than lead a poor college student on anyway. It's when you get married guys on the down low that you start to run into problems. They run the gamut between being extremely forward and excited in one breath to being frightened sheep fretful of being busted in the next. One guy kept asking if I wasn't sure that I was a police officer; I finally got so frustrated that I forwarded his info over to the local precinct 'anonymously' and set up a date between him and a certain Sergeant Blanks. I hope they a grande time. Another time I spread a guy's contact info and our correspondence all over his neighbourhood and work place. The idiot didn't realize that his outgoing emails listed his addresses and contact numbers. You should have seen his face when he walked into the lobby of his office and apartment complex and saw his face and 'sexy' pictures with his name and number and letters posted all over them, hell you should have seen his wife's face. I'm not normally that petty with everyone... just the ones who lead me on. Time is money and if you keep me waiting for a half hour without any form of compensation, especially if I lose other work over you, be prepared to for me to take my pound of flesh out of you by other means. I'm a scary bitch sometimes... but if you pay the price, I treat you right in a night full of delight. ;)

-The Tart

Push my Face in it Nigger!

2008-10-20T19:33:00.000-07:00

Whimsical Musings of a whore: An unfiltered walk through the Whore's memories; both recent and long past.

I hate being objectified but lately that's all I get. Because I'm 'Black', because I have a big dick, because I'm... well I guess it's just because I'm black- because I'm Black I have a whole slew of bastards writing begging me to humiliate and dominate them; make them choke on my fat dick and piss all over them when I'm done. Really put them in their places like the little pig slut boys they are. My favourite is when people tell me to make them feel the way my ancestors did. Now that one is a bit much. I have no racial hatred within me; I'm really not into the whole reparations bullshit; as it is I'm just about as fresh off the boat as you can get; there are no African American slaves in my background and still they keep on with the 'Beat me down like the white piece of shit I am.' None of these racially guilty fuckers want to hear anything but 'Death to whitey, honkey!'. They want to feel like shit and they want me to do it to them. Racism sucks. As I'm standing there face fucking these idiots and making up none sense about how this is for 'Pappy Joe, and Kunta Bengay', I always think what a waste of space. My last few sessions with one specific fucker has culminated in him getting on his back, while I rub my feet all over his face, as he furiously jacks off screaming, 'Yes Master, put me in my place- Goddamn Fucking Cunt- I'm a pussy, please God-Fucking yes Nigger YESSSS!' And as soon as he cums, he remembers who he is; a Pillar of Society working on Wall Street in the midst of humiliating sexcapades and just like that he slips me 500 and I'm out the door until next week. How much does it cost to sell yourself out to a racist bastard too stupid to see how humiliating it is for you to be doing this as well? Does he know; does he care? Is the 500 dollars worth it? That's what I wonder as I walk down the hallway towards the elevator. Stepping on the train I finally let it all go and say, 'It doesn't matter; be it for sex or for humiliation, 500 dollars is 500 dollars.' With that in mind I go home, brush my teeth, and smile at the black face looking back at me and mirror. It really is okay. Isn't it?

Hourly Schmourly; My Favourite thing about this Business

2008-10-19T13:16:00.001-07:00

Whimsical Musings of a whore: An unfiltered walk through the Whore's memories; both recent and long past.

The rate! We do any of that by the hour bullshit. It's a set rate for x,y, or/and z and then you go from there. It works out because once the dude cums you're free to go cause I mean it's not like you're going to hang around afterwards... though sometimes the dudes do want that, in which case you sort of have to set an hourly rate and go from there- but then once again, if you say 2 hours and it's an hour and a half they're typically not going to try to stiff you. That did happen once. This dude wanted to blow me but he was awful and any time I'd try to face fuck him he'd start gagging which is really not a turn on when the guy's mouth isn't very big in the first place... you get the point. Anyway so I couldn't get it up until I started sucking him off and then he wanted me to fuck him which I did but because he couldn't suck me off he couldn't cum. So after all that, this dude is like, 'Can I just pay you part of it since we didn't get to do everything I wanted?' All I could was laugh. I ended up getting my money, but it took a bit of strong arm negotiating on my part. That's the worst part of this work; money negotiating. Some people don't realize how hard it actually is to find someone who's willing to shell out the appropriate amount of dough for what they want. In loose money terms it translates to $80 for a blowjob, $200 for pure fucking, and $400 and upwards for flipping and romance. This is hard skilled work equivalent to and beyond rocket science. It's the science of love and pleasure without all the messy strings and that has to be properly compensated. I wish someone like the President would point that out; it would sure make my job a hell of a lot easier.

-The Tart

Hot Black Boy Hungry for Hot Sex

2008-10-19T10:48:00.000-07:00

Whimsical Musings of a whore: An unfiltered walk through the Whore's memories; both recent and long past.

That's usually my angle. Hot. Black. Boy. Hungry. Sex. It drives people nuts... though it just doesn't always get me the best results. Many people are willing to write gushing over how HOT they think I am but when it comes down to sealing the deal... not so much. And that is where the 'Cat and Mouse' game comes into play. You have to be a little bit coy, a little bit sweet, not too threatening but not too keen or they'll get that you're pandering. It's a fine line; it's like having to scale a wall- The way I see it, Spider-Man has nothing on me. I think any person who's ever been in this line of work is a perfect candidate for the diplomatic service. We have to communicate better than anyone else, be smarter, sexier, calmer, and completely cool or it's not going to happen. Scaling walls indeed.The most frustrating bit is when you've got someone on the line and then they suddenly freak out on you. In those instances all you can do is sigh, move on, and try again all the while hoping that your ad hasn't seen too much play; no one likes a whore who's seen too much action. It's hard... I need an agent but the idea of having a Madame/Pimp or being attached to a brothel... No; that would make this too real- it would brand me a prostitute and that's not what I am. I'm just someone who's screwing around with willing customers for the moment. It's sex and everyone's enjoying themselves; some people enjoy it more after they've paid for it, and some people enjoy it more after they've been paid for it... I fall into the latter category obviously. Oh- gotta go; looks like I got another John. Hopefully he won't be too much work.

Black on Black Sex

2008-10-19T10:33:00.000-07:00

Whimsical Musings of a whore: An unfiltered walk through the Whore's memories; both recent and long past.
Never had it and it's not for a lack of trying, trust you me. I LOVE the idea of having sex with black men... they're just not willing to pay for it. That's not meant to be a racist statement; I suppose I should qualify it by stating that I've personally never come across any black men who were willing to pay me money to have sex with them but I'm sure that they do exist somewhere in the world out there. Whenever I get a response from a potential client who just happens to be black, I'll admit I get a little excited! It's just so rare; you know? Well, invariably it turns out that the dude writing doesn't quite get that this was pay for play and it always turns into this, 'I don't have to pay for sex when everybody else is giving it away for free.' For a while I thought black men just couldn't read (well except for me of course... I am 'Black'... well actually I'm brown but we don't have to get into that right now) but then one of my clients pointed out that the 'Black Men' who write me aren't illiterate they're just stupid and unthoughtful; clearly someone as good looking as myself must be for sale and furthermore I shouldn't lament my dearth of 'Black Clientele' as it leaves me open for more appreciative White Men like himself. He had a good point... still, I can't help wondering what a little Black on Black action would be like... I wonder if I'd be able to go back.

-The Tart

I Really Hate Water Sports

2008-10-19T10:19:00.000-07:00

Whimsical Musings of a whore: An unfiltered walk through the Whore's memories; both recent and long past.

So I said no. It's not a fetish in which I indulge. I think it's derogatory and unsanitary; I may be a Whore but I'm not a Chicken head. But of course the guy kept whining about it and it was a lot of money... but no; I just couldn't. Then he said, 'What if you do it to me first, and if it's okay I can try it to you afterwards.' Hmmm... effective compromise. 'Why not?' Okay, so here's the funny part; when he said 'Water Sports', he didn't mean in the Nasty Fetish Sense; he meant with water guns and super soakers and stuff. It was AWESOME! We even took it to his backyard (he was in White Plains; I know; I need to stop doing traveling engagements, but they pay SO much!), and he took it a step further by pulling out costumes. It's true that I wasn't so keen on having a mohawk for my costume but... he threw in an extra $400 bucks. I have the greatest job in the world; people pay me to have sex with them and play with them! Sure, I lost my hair this time around but when you're playing with someone who's willing to dress up as Wonder Woman and tip you extra... how can you say 'No?'

My Obsession with Karaoke...

2008-10-19T09:59:00.000-07:00

Whimsical Musings of a whore: An unfiltered walk through the Whore's memories; both recent and long past.

Is really just an obsession with my own voice. Narcissism is the name of this A game. Watch out American Idol, here I come; I'm thinking about launching my own version where people can actually sing (imagine that) called, 'Naked Karaoke'. The brilliant idea came to me as I was finishing up last night. The John and I'd gotten really worked up and sweaty and he asked if I'd like to take a rinse. Since he wasn't trying to turn it into 'Shower Sex' (which we all know I HATE!), I said sure. Funny thing about me; the second I step into a shower I start singing (unless I'm choking on a dick... damn shower sex). As I was finishing 'Over the Rainbow' (Pattie's version, not Judy's; I'm not THAT gay.) I heard the John applauding. He was gushing over how good I was and all I could say was, 'You were expecting less?' Yes, I know; I'm very humble. Well the John thinks I should leave whoring behind and turn to singing full time; he even offered to help me get a record deal (he knows a couple of people.) I don't know if music is the wayto go for me, but it certainly can't hurt especially if my 'Naked Idol' idea takes off. I think I'll get a webcam and start broadcasting... can you imagine? Me singing 'Hit Me Baby one More Time', Naked AND in the shower? I just hope no one steals the idea before I get a chance to put it into action.

-The Tart

So I was sitting on a picnic table out in California...

2008-10-19T09:32:00.000-07:00

Whimsical Musings of a whore: An unfiltered walk through the Whore's memories; both recent and long past.

When this guy came up to me and asked if I was a love worker. 'A what?', I asked. He had a thick German accent and I thought, 'perhaps I misheard.' No, I had heard him correctly; he was indeed asking if I was a love worker. A 'love worker', for those who aren't up on their German lingo, is person who receives money for favours, better known in these parts as a 'Whore'. I am neither; I am a Tart (or so I tell myself every single night as I cry myself to sleep.) How this man knew I was a 'love worker' I don't know, but I do know that I was not pleased with being called out.

When I'm out and about tarting it up I am quite receptive to being approached by strangers for a bit of fun (so long as they're paying; you dig?) but when I'm on my muther-fucking vacation- Back the fuck up off me bitches! Even Tarts need their days off! So of course, being in a sour and dour mood I yelled at him in my best german, 'Nein doch!', kicked him in the shins, and retreated to my hotel room as quickly as Tartly possible. The incident had me a little freaked out; when people look at me, do they smell, 'Whore' or was this just some freak occurrence? He was German after all and they are so... German. What will happen if I walk into a church? Will I be set a blaze; will I combust into a shower of flaming fabulouslessness; will I go up in a flame of glory... wait, that only happens to vampires. Okay, so what if a nun passes me; will she attack me with her cane, or if a rector strolls by, will he drop to his knees and start blowing? These are serious things to consider... perhaps I should swing by St. Patricks and put this to the test...

-The Tart

I just turned __ years olde...

2008-10-19T08:53:00.000-07:00

Whimsical Musings of a whore: An unfiltered walk through the Whore's memories; both recent and long past.

I've just turned 10; that's where this all begins. On my knees begging for penance from a priest who's eyes hold no mercy. I blink and I'm running away from a home filled with discord, devoid of comfort, wherein only strife and vile machinations reigns; with a sigh a year has passed and I'm on the streets of NYC learning to work a never fading profession; I turn a corner and I'm living the high life funded on the back of my back as I ride my way to... I don't know where; and now I stand here looking intently into a mirror that can only reflect my ever constant false honeyed smile. Always ready and always waiting prepared to turn the world on it's heard towards my favour only now for once that smile reflects the true intent of my heart I think after all this time I've fallen in love... but I know in the blink of an eye another 2 months will have already passed and I'll have fallen out of love just as I've finally tripped into it yet again. It's all over before I can even think to hold on. The world moves even as I stand still; I feel it running by even now. Oh look it's 6:00 pm already... time to go to work.

-The Tart

Photoshoots are Not Fun; AKA: Showing off My Ass

2008-10-18T22:00:00.000-07:00

If you're going to find clients you gotta show em what you're working with and that is why Jesus created the Digital Camera (and thank Moses he did too.) In the olden days when I was like 10 I used to have to buy a disposable camera, take pics, and hope that the people developing them didn't notice or if they did, hope they didn't raise a stink. Now that I've got my handy dandy digi I can take all the pics I want in the privacy of my own bathroom... It's convenient but it's really not that fun. First you have to think of something that says, 'sexy and slutty' but not 'reeking of effort', then you have to place the camera and set it on an automatic timer then run and hope you hit your pose before the flash goes off.

Adding further chaos to the mix, sometimes if it's a cock shot you flaccid which sucks cause there's no fluffer and of course someone saw fit to curse me with a dick that doesn't respond to Mastrubation (Curse you Buddha!!) ... you get the picture; it's not fun. For some odd reason, the second I pull out a camera I instantly go limp so I have to keep trying to think sexy thoughts (which doesn't really work either) and pray that I can keep it up until the flash goes off. Not that I have impotency issues; NOT at all, I just don't turn my self on the way other people seem to turn themselves on.

Whatever, I got the damn pictures taken and now I'm ready to conquer the world again... with my ass!

-The Tart

Massaging Feet

2008-10-18T21:59:00.001-07:00

No; not with my tongue! I don't get into that fetish shit.

One of my steadies has the worst feet on the planet and wouldn't you know it he loves the way I do his feet. I may be a Whore but I'm also a gifted masseur; imagine that. This guy is famous so I'll give him a 'codename' in case anyone reads this. Lets call him... Flint Westrock. Perfect; so 'Flint' really wants me to do foot massage full time, maybe even open my own massage parlor. He keeps telling me if I ever decide to go 'straight', he'll invest in me. Hell, the way I see it he already invests in me (and my Prada habit).

It is a tempting idea sometimes... going straight. I just don't like the idea of being surrounded by feet all day long. Dicks are one thing, but at least you can suck on those. Feet are smelly and calloused and.... no thank you. Maybe if I get tired of sex... Haha, yeah right; right? I wonder... what would Mary Magdalene have done if Jesus had offered her a Massage Parlor after she sucked off his feet... hmmm.

-The Tart

Sometimes the Sex Just Doesn't Happen

2008-10-18T21:57:00.000-07:00

There's nothing worse than a whiny guy who talks the talk and then blames you when he stumbles. It's not my fault we didn't get to do anything. I figure a few more sessions with him and I'll finally be able to get that new lap top. Easy money; that's the best... though- a part of me wishes he could get it up; he is super cute and I am horny and... I guess that's the price of having a horse hung dick. It's too big to get enough blood pumping into it to make it fully solid. Ugh! Thank God he didn't try to fuck me with that thing! There is nothing worse than a flaccid penis. I repeat, there is nothing worse than a flaccid penis... except for being fucked by a flaccid penis. Don't believe me? Try it sometime and then we'll see how traumatized you are. I wonder... what will happen if I spike his drink with a Cialis... maybe he'll be able to get it up... he did mention a heart condition though and I think Cialis causes heart attacks... or am I making that up? Whatever, it's not my problem. The next time I see him, I'll just lay back and see what happens. If he can't get it up, I drug him and leave; if he can... well I'll just have to see what type of fuck he throws. Some guys with big dicks only know how to 'Pump, pump, dump.' Yawn; not having it. If he can keep me entertained... that would be awesome. Otherwise I'll just blow him and go. Okay, I've got a 4 o'clock and it's in the Bronx (gotta stop doing these damn traveling calls.) Catch ya later.