My Favorite Songs about Pussy and Mastrubation....

I LOVE my pussy.
 
And before the age of classless Rap Music and unimaginative explicit lyrics, musicians had to find subtle but interesting ways to praise the pussy through song. Here are some of my favorite songs about the joys of Pussy and touching it. I must admit that some of the songs surprised me like “Little Red Corvette” and “She Bop”. Never in a million years would I have thought those songs dealt with pussy and masturbation. But still my favorite of the Lot is Britney Spears song "Touch of my hand". It's a simple yet cool song about admiring her pussy. I posted a video at the bottom. Enjoy!

(Sugar Walls- Sheena Easton)
“Blood races to your private spots, that lets me know there's a fire
You can't fight passion when passion is hot
Temperatures rise inside my sugar walls”

(Pussy Cat- Missy Elliott)

“Pussy don't fail me now
I gotta turn this nigga out
So he don't want nobody else
But me and only me”

(Nookie –Jackie O)

“I get diamonds, big old pearls
brand new cars cuz i got my girl
she my best friend she keeps it real
i love my nookie, nookie pay my bills
that juicy juicy that juicy juicy
that juicy juicy that juicy juicy
its so pretty she so sweet she good wet and deep”

(Heart Shaped Box – Nirvana)

“Meat-eating orchids forgive no one just yet
Cut myself on angel hair and baby’s breath
Broken hymen of your highness I’m left black
Throw down your umbilical noose so I can climb right back”

(Little Red Corvette - Prince)

(She Bop –Cyndi Lauper)

(Touch of my Hand –Britney Spears)

“Cause I just discovered
Imagination’s taking over
Another day without a lover
The more I come to understand
The touch of my hand”

(All Is Full of Love - Björk)

(Oops- Tweet)

(I touch myself - Divinyls)

Paying Homage to my ALL TIME favorite Escorts (Part II)

I started in this industry somewhere around 2004, and just like any good hooker starting out, I did as much research as possible. I’d spend hours on the computer searching for the cream of the crop escorts from all over the world, and then trying my best to emulate what ever it was that made them popular. I didn’t copy them, but I used them as a model for myself.

The very first escort that I tried to emulate was Morgan Ellis from Toronto. This woman was the epitome of perfection in my opinion. Getting on her level was my ultimate goal because just like me, Morgan was a BBW and used her size as her niche. She emphasized her size in a way that made men who normally fancied skinny girls sit up and take notice. She referred to herself as a “Luxury Sedan”, which I thought was genius. Another thing about Morgan that I admired was her writing abilities. OMG, her writing was phenomenal, and I became obsessed with her blogs, which inspired me to start blogging. I think Morgan is retired now, but I wanted to say THANK YOU for the motivation.

The second escort that I tried to emulate was Letitcia from Brighton UK. Letitcia was an older escort that had that “Woman of Leisure” air about her. You know the type? The woman that hustled her entire life and is now sitting back living fabulously off the fruits of her pussy. She had the most awesome seaside apartment that was decorated exquisitely, and I envied that about her. Her style was eclectic and her own, and she didn’t dress or looked like any escort I had ever seen before. The way she carried herself made my heart flutter. I admired her immensely and followed her website like a lovesick fan. I STILL admire her today and recently bought her book that she wrote about her life as a sex worker. I’m sitting here now tapping my feet with anticipation for her book to arrive.

See, it's women like these two that makes me PROUD as hell to be in this industry. I’m PROUD to be an escort, and I mean that from the bottom of my heart. But it’s the ultimate blessing when you become someone else’s motivation and object of affection.

I LOVE all ya’ll!!

Pictured below is the lovely Letitcia. I also added the link to her book on Amazon if you're interested.

Happiness and Love....

Sitting here behind my computer screen, tipsy off Scotch and reflecting the chain of events that's been going on in my life these past couple of Months, and all I can say is....I'm fucking Happy!

Life has been so good to me and so are the people in it.

I love my family, I love my man, love what I do, and I love life.

What more can I ask for ya'll?

This song is dedicated to my king. A man that has gone above and beyond for me.

I love you!

Follow me on twitter. Pretty PLEASE!

I've been on twitter a few years now but just like all the other Social Networking sites, they become too much of a Job.  But I'm going to tackle this twitter thing once more. 

So help a sister get 1000 followers by the end of the week!

I Ho for me ONLY!

I had the privilege of catching up with an acquaintance of mine who recently retired from Hookerdom, and just like me she’s found a new love. But listening to her stories of past failed relationships, and her doubts about her new one, makes me nervous about mine. Listening to her only validates the difficulty that goes with sex workers finding true and lasting relationships with men while they are still escorting.

She spoke about past boyfriends and how they 100% of the time disapproved of her escorting but at the same time depended largely on the money she made which brings me to the meat of this post.

I ONLY ho for Erika…

The thought of another male besides my son spending my Ho dollars seems downright ridiculous to me. Not to mention her boyfriend having the nerve to dictate the number of clients she saw a week to help clear his warrants and other miscellaneous bills. FUCK THAT! I couldn’t fathom selling pussy and spending the money on anyone besides me and my son. That’s why we become hookers in the first place isn’t it, so that we can live independently. Living with a man and continuing to sell pussy seems crazy to me. And I know a lot of escorts do it, so I’m trying not to pass judgment, but GOTDAMN. I just can’t sell pussy and give it away at the same time. That’s a conflict of interest. It’s going against the grain, right?

I guess I’m an old fashioned Ho, and I want my man to be the man and bring home the bacon while I fry it. I’m by no means a feminist, and I hate the saying “You can’t turn a Ho into a housewife”, but I know one thing is for sure, I definitely don’t want to do both.

My Goddess - Josephine Baker

I know my family must think I’m some blasphemous fool when it comes to me calling human beings Gods and Goddesses. I once said that Josephine Baker was my Jesus Christ equivalent, and my overly religious grandmother stopped talking to me for weeks.

Little did she know I appreciated the silence!

But most people, especially black people never fully quite understand the depth of love and admiration that I have for this woman. In 2006 St. Louis celebrated her centennial birthday with weeklong festivities at the Sheldon Art gallery on Grand, and I had the honor of meeting her eldest nephew Richard Martin Jr. who was in his late 70’s at the time. And God forgive me for saying this but her biological family was a hot ghetto mess. Ugh! No wonder she had little to do with them.

I mean, here is a woman that took the world by STORM in the 1920’s, all the way up until she died in the 1970’s. Ernest Hemmingway loved her, Picasso painted her, she had affairs with kings, and her best friends were Fidel Castro, Evita Perone, and Grace Kelly. It was nothing for her to call up Coco Chanel in the 1930’s, and have an outfit custom made for a dinner party. This woman was like ROYALTY in Europe, and here in the States her biological family knows little to nothing about her life besides her dancing nude in bananas. Her nephew got on stage and either made things up or read a passage from a book that he bought. How insulting? They didn’t own any of her music nor seen her movies. It took super fans like me and few others to stand up and talk about our vast knowledge of her life and career. They should have added us to the syllabus when we got up and spoke at the symposium on her life, but everything was so impromptu.

One of the main reasons why I think her family knows so little about her life is because she had become a creature of Europe for 50 years, and many African American’s felt that she was out of touch with their issues. My parents even say that she was out of touch, but they failed to realize that when she did tour America she:

-Refused to sing to segregated audiences, or places that had curfews for blacks.
-Refused to sing in places where blacks had to sit in the back.
-Refused to sing at venues that didn’t hire black stagehands, and this was done in the 50’s where McCarthyism was rampant.

But since she was a French citizen, she didn’t give a fuck so Kudos to her bravery!

I guess for me it was her accomplishments and adventures that captured my attention as a teenager; the fact that she had done so much with her life and had done it better than any woman that came before her. And the fact that she’s been dead since 1975 her presence is still monumental in France, and how she was elevated to mythical status even before she died is AWESOME…

(The picture below was taken in 1927)

House of 100 Years....

I LOVE my 100 year old house!

I’m still in the beginning stages of trying to put my style and personality into it, and make it a place where I not only entertain clients, but also entertain dinner and brunch guests. I love the idea of having clients here Mon-Friday then on Saturdays and Sundays I have small brunch parties for my closest friends and lover where we discuss sex and relationships over Sangria and veggie omelet’s. This would become a weekly ritual that we all look forward to. My house would reflect my eclectic and eccentric taste in color, furniture, jazz, and eroticism. Every corner of my house will be filled with memories of travel and a life well lived.

As I lie in bed manifesting my dreams into fruition of a fantastic future. This thinking has given me the perfect idea for an erotic novel that I’m thinking about writing. The Novel will be called:

“The House of 100 years”

This novel will chronicle the life and times of two promiscuous women living 100 years apart in this house, and how both their lives were affected by sex, love, grief, and this house which they both LOVED dearly. The novel opens up in 1910 where a young promiscuous woman desperately wants out of her boring marriage and multiple failed affairs to become a dancer and travel Europe with the legendary dancer Isadora Duncan, while the other woman in 2010 desperately wants to get married, but her multiple failed affairs with married men and open sexuality sends her into a whirlwind of depression and grief. The story will also have a supernatural element as both women while deeply depressed will get a glimpse of each other through a bathroom mirror.

Not sure how I will end my novel. It depends on how I feel at the moment. If I’m in a good mood, the ladies will get their wishes. If I’m not, the novel will end sadly. We’ll see! I’m starting on it today!!

Wish me luck!