Oh my fucking, word! Your not going to fucking believe it! My double life has somehow merged into one; my secret life has head butted my regular life. There’s somebody out there that knows my real identity and knows I’m an escort.
I am pretty sure this person is not a client because they know more information than what a client would ever know about me. Believe it or not, in my personal life, I’m a very PRIVATE person. I keep escorting and regular life separate. However, this person knows several personal and very private things about me. They know things that I’ve never told anyone or blogged about! I feel like I’m being stalked.
I woke up to the unmistakable chime of an email overnight, just after 3:00 a.m. (the witching hour). The sender revealed to me what they knew about me (in question format). Questions like: Have you ever worked as an entertainer in Las Vegas? Do you plan on leaving the States to live happily ever after with your soul mate in Milan? Did you graduate from __________ University? For crying out loud, they even knew my first name (it’s not Veronica)!
You guys know me as a twenty something well educated student (back in school to get another degree) and entrepreneur moonlighting as an escort. By day, I’m a stiletto stepping, pencil skirt wearing, Mikimoto pearls flaunting business woman. By night, I am a stiletto stepping, diamond studded, red lipstick and thong wearing bbw bombshell, who is occasionally accessorized with a whip, just in case I have to whip a freaky motherfucker’s ass! But nobody, I mean, nobody knows, I’m a call girl.
I started escorting, just a few months ago––though it feels like a lot longer. I began this blog a while ago, as I’ve always been a kept woman. I took a hiatus from writing, then began blogging again when I started, “doing something strange for a little a lot of change”. I only blog about it because it’s therapeutic (I don’t have any escort friends to chat with, by choice) and because it’s an exciting life that more people than you think are involved in. But still, this is my life; my story.
You see, I’ve always loved sex and have been interested in this kind of sex work for as long as I can remember but I never told anyone about my interest because as an educated, straight laced, girl from a middle class Christian family; becoming a call is just NOT what you do. I was reluctant to break into the lifestyle for numerous reasons. Ironically, the fear of some nutcase finding out my true identity or threatening to blackmail me, or even worse were (and still are) at the top of the list. There are many dangers to this life style and escorting certainly isn’t for everyone.
However, I had a lot of casual sex in my past, though I was never paid for it. I had 5 partners and lots of hot, passionate, ball busting, jaw aching sex. The real atrocity here is not that I escort on a very part time basis, but that some loser (who doesn’t pay any of my bills) has the audacity to get all holier than thou on me and tell me that I shouldn’t be doing this–that it’s not right. The real atrocity is the girl who’s at the local bar who’s a borderline alcoholic, getting shit-faced drunk and fucking a new guy every night, unprotected and for free (because of self-esteem issues or maybe even boredom)! That’s the real atrocity.
Well… News Flash!!! I’m not her. You (Mr. Anonymous) want me to stop escorting? If I must have sex then I should just fuck for free, right? Sorry sweetie, but that’s not my idea of what it means to be philanthropic. I suppose that’s your tip to me.
Here’s my tip to you. Please sit down! As a matter of fact, I need you to takes several seats. I feel so vulnerable right now and at the same time angry as hell.
I’m so angry right now, I’m ready to pass out some ass whoppins like Bobby Mercer from the movie, “Four Brothers”.