Letters of a Call Girl

I created this blog to keep track of my life as I tip toe my way into working as a call girl. These will be letters to myself, for myself, though probably at your amusement. I have a feeling this will be interesting. Enjoy. xxoo Honey

Monday, May 01, 2006

fuck me, feed me

One of my lover's flys out to see me for the week. He's got dark smooth skin and a carribean accent. I like seeing his smile flash in the dark, and waking up to him nibbling on my earlobe. The days are lazy, spent in the hot tropical sun, then the shower rinsing away salt water and sand, then the cool dimness of my bedroom.

He feeds me, then fucks me, then starts all over again. I am as content in my body as a cat, all stretched out and purring. Any man who can cook like that is worth pleasing. Tender pieces of chicken sauted in olive oil, brown sugar and paprika. Pasta saturated in creamy, garlic sauce. Silver knife flashing over bell peppers, red, green and sunnshine yellow.

Thursday, April 27, 2006

Lazy Day

Yesterday was my first day off in a long while. I work as a personal trainer at a resort, and I love it, but it's trying. I have a very wealthy client who I've been working with for the past 2 months. She's a sweet lady, but very skeptical of "all this sweaty nonsense". She wants a quick fix, like pills or surgery. It takes all my effort to keep her motivated, and convince her that if she sticks with it, she will actually look better then if she has surgery. We do all of her sessions in her hotel room, because she is terrified of people seeing her sweaty and out of breah! At first I thought she was joking, but when I tried to move her down to they gym, she was near tears. She wears a full face of make up and diamonds for our workouts together.

I spent my precious free time at the pool, sunning myself and reading. I've just finished "Garden of Eden" by Hemmingway, and it's my all time favorite. I love the part where she cuts off all her hair. Talk about something symbolic to set the face for the rest of the novel! The pool has a stunning view of the ocean, with a long cobbled stairway down to the beach. You can watch the sailboats go by, and the local fishermen wade in to cast their nets.

The pool was shockingly empty. Usually everything here is crowded with japanese tourists and children, so I was overjoyed! The hotel staff even brought me out a complimentary chicken salad for lunch! I swam a couple laps, then called it a day.

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Good Girl Gone Bad?

To My Dearest Self:

I really don't know where the idea came from, but now that it's here, I can't seem to get it out of my head. Shouldn't the idea of working as a call girl shock and disgust me? I'm a small town girl. I'm 19. I'm not naive, or tricked into thinking that the lifestyle will be glamourous. I was raised Lutheran, with morals and loving parents. I don't have a drug habit, I was never sexually abused, and I'm not desperate for money. I should be a nurse, or a legal secretary or something equally mudane.

Why does this idea thrill me so? I have an idea that I'm on my way to a fascinating, secretive, seductive double life.

I've been using Google to find out information.