Friday, 28 August 2009
I'm being a good girl today and finally tackling the mountain of ironing in my living room, together with some studying later on. Due to circumstances completely outwith my control I had to cancel my Dundee tour today at the last minute so I have unexpected time on my hands. Actually it's a good job too, because I am covered in bruises. No, I haven't been in a brawl although with the mood I was in yesterday it was a very viable option.
I had some visitors from home so yesterday I took them to M & D's, which is a large theme park about an hour away from me. The rain held off for most of the day until I decided to try the most lethal looking roller coaster there. I am a dare devil and will go on any ride that promises to turn me upside down or inside out. As soon as the carriages started to move forward the heavens opened but there was little I could do about it a that stage.
There is a sign as you go onto the ride which warns you that it is a very boisterous experience and not to try it if you're pregnant/ of a nervous disposition/ in the middle of a psychotic episode, etc. etc. Well if I wasn't psychotic going onto it, I certainly was coming off. It literally chucks you about and not in a pleasant way, everyone's heads were bouncing off the sides of the restraints and tempers were fraying. Worse still, it ground to a halt rather violently about 5 metres back from the sheltered area where it's supposed to stop. We sat there for about 3 minutes in the pouring rain until someone at the back shouted "TODAY WOULD BE LOVELY !!"
A very sheepish looking attendant came out to explain that the ride had malfunctioned and we would all have to wait for the mechanic to come and sort it. It could only happen to me. So we sat there for a further ten minutes and I amused myself by watching my mascara trickling down my neck. I was in an absolutely foul mood after that, but not to be disheartened, we all traipsed into the indoor rainforest and it was wonderful, with beautiful butterflies and monkeys too. There's also a dark section where we saw some bats, they are truly fascinating creatures.There was a handling animals session too, and I got to hold a corn snake, a gecko and a tarantula, yay me !! I'm not afraid of spiders per se, but a tarantula is in a whole different league. On the other hand, if I see a mouse or a rat I'm up on the nearest available light fitting.
Back to normality now and on Sunday evening I have a date with a new client and I'm off to the theatre so I'm looking forward to it immensely. It's all a bit cloak and dagger as he invented a cover story for himself and has managed to dig himself into the most enormous hole, so I have to pretend to be an obnoxious woman he works with and cannot abide. You couldn't make it up.
After that I'm off to Inverness next week on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday and will finally catch up with Mr A who is back from the Middle East. We have a dinner date and I am going to stay away from champagne and foliage this time. Well, foliage anyway. The following week I'm off to Spain with Mr F for a week and I can't wait. It's going to be fab, not least because I won't be scared of the geckos now. Well not really. Why do they have to run up walls for goodness sake ?
On that note I'm off to wrestle the remote from my 8 year old, if I have to watch one more repeat episode of Hannah Montana I WILL start self harming.
Sunday, 23 August 2009
Ok, it's 10pm on Sunday night and I'm supposed to be studying. I'm not. I could also do with tackling the pile of ironing that could do with it's own post code. I can't be bothered. No, instead I'll faff about on the internet and have a glass of wine. Much more pleasurable. It was my best friend's birthday yesterday so some of my friends came over with mucho vino and we ordered a chinese and sat talking and laughing til the wee hours. This morning we piled into the car and went to Frankie and Bennys for a breakfast of epic proportions, my goodness, I knew it was an American Style diner and that they don't do "little" but my breakfast required a trough, not a plate. Still, waste not want not. ;)
Speaking of "want not" I thought I'd share with you my phonecall of the day.
"Hi there, I've been looking at your website and I like what I see. Can you just confirm you're in your early thirties ?"
"And your dress size ?"
"I'm a size 14."
"Ah, that's a pity, I hadn't realised you're fat."
Damn him to hell, I was just tucking into some choccies my slave bitch had bought for me and very much enjoying them too, but the ensuing laughter made me incapable of sitting up straight, never mind eating. I'll be charitable and just call him a swine. It was almost as amusing as the gentleman who emailed me and asked if I'd be able for his 12 inch serpent of lust. Probably not, but I would find his vivid imagination much more of a turn-on in the bedroom.
Anyway, tomorrow I'm doing incalls in Glasgow for the day and I'm looking forward to it very much, I have some brilliant guys who come and see me regularly there and I've booked a lovely five star hotel for the night. I love the peace and quiet, I see my gentlemen and then run a hot, deep bath in a princess and cat free zone, all topped off with a long leisurely breakfast. As much as I love my family and pets, sometimes it's lovely just to stroll around my hotel room naked simply because I can.
I've changed my preferences for underwear recently. Today I went on an impromptu shopping trip and bought some new very sexy matching bras and pants. I used to always go for teddies and hold-ups, but lately and probably because I'm losing more weight, I am leaning more towards a nice matching lace bra and panties with a real suspender belt and seamed stockings. Apart from the fact it makes me feel very sexy, I have had enough disasters with hold-ups to put me off them for life. I used to wear them for one day and then throw them into the washing machine. ( Hand washing ? Pffft. ) That's all very well, but unfortunately it leads to a loss of their adhesive qualities with time which resulted recently in my tottering across the reception area of a very popular golfer's hotel with my knees closely clamped together. ( Irony, anyone ? ) One of the hold-ups had disengaged itself from the top of my thigh and begun rolling down my leg, so as bad as this sounds I ended up waddling across the foyer like Quasimodo. Oh, the glamour.
On that cheery note I'm off to bed.
Thursday, 20 August 2009
Greetings from a very warm and stuffy hotel room in Dundee. It's been a very long day and Amanda and I are unwinding with a cool glass of wine. ( Well actually, she's watching a cat yodelling video on the net, as you do. ) Over dinner tonight we made a monumental decision, we are going to Amsterdam to work for a couple of days, hurrah !! We are both in touch with a lady that works there regularly and she is going to help us in the right direction so The Antiques Roadshow is going global. :)
Our day started off tremendously well with a rather hyperactive and impossibly cute man who had booked a duo. He couldn't come for the life of him, it was his first time to have some bedroom frolics with two girls but he declared loudly that if he was going to pay £150 for half an hour with the two of us then he was bloody well going to stay until the very last minute, even if we all played ludo for the remaining time. He eventually limped off to a job interview with a hard on that would put an Indian Teepee to shame.
I had a bit of a shock this morning whilst watching Sky News. I was idly putting my make-up on casting half an eye on the TV when I spied one of my clients, jumping up and down like a loony. There's nowt unusual in that until I realised that the reason he was doing his best impression of Zebedee is because he is the manager of a football club, and they are doing rather well at the moment. HOLY FECK !! I sat there staring at the telly for the longest time. Yep, it's definitely him all right, I'd know that cheeky grin and backside anywhere. It's a good thing I value discretion so highly, I tell thee.
Speaking of discretion, about two months ago or so I hired a hotel room in Glasgow for the day and did incalls. A lovely older gentleman called me and although he couldn't make it that day he begged me to see him early the following morning. As you know, mornings and I go together like gangbangs and Mary Whitehouse, but nevertheless I agreed as he sounded such a gent. Having finished my incalls for the day I decided to so a bit of shopping, as is my birth right as a woman. I spied the most crass basque I have ever seen in my life. It's leopard print and if Bet Lynch ever became an escort it would be her attire of choice. I HAD to have it.
Come the next morning and I bounced out of bed and got ready to see my guy. He arrived just on time and as I welcomed him into the room I placed the "Do not disturb" sign on the door. He had some issues which meant the only way he could have sex was with me on top, so I climbed aboard and was gyrating with gusto when I thought I heard a faint knock. My client didn't flinch so I thought it must have been my imagination.
With that, the door flew open and in marched a foreign cleaning lady. She screamed, I gasped, and my client burst out laughing. I appraised the situation in lightning quick time and thought there was absolutely no point in trying to bullsh*t my way out of this one. I was a 30 something woman performing vigorous cowgirl on a man in his eighties and what's worse, I was in leopard print. If there was ever a stereotypical picture of a sex worker doing what she does best, this was it.
I smiled sweetly.
"If you wouldn't mind leaving us for a couple of moments, we shouldn't be too much longer I'd imagine."
She was carefully studying the wall by the door.
"I should bloody think so."
Afterwards I cornered her in the corridor and reminded her that I had placed the "Do not disturb" sign on the door. Err, no I hadn't, it was a different sign on the other side of it which said "Please service my room". I'm quite sure it's not the kind of service she had in mind, but my client said it was the best laugh he'd had in years.
I really meant it when I said it's laugh or cry sometimes.
Finally, I've just been reading Dollymopp's blog about some idiot who's accused her of faking her own reports. What a TWAT. Just because Dolly sees gentlemen who can spell and have a good command of the English language they've all been made up ? I think not, I've known Dolly for a number of years now and quite apart from being one of the loveliest people you could meet she is also a lady of high integrity and standards. Really successful escorts ( as she is ) don't need to write their own reports, her site is the best in the UK as far as I'm concerned and her reputation speaks for itself.
There's a link to Dolly's blog here :
I agree with her that there are a lot of idiots about but you know what ? I choose to ignore the bitchy swipes because there is always jealousy at the base of it. So keep your chin up girl and flash that beautiful smile. Oh, and you ROCK too. :)
Monday, 17 August 2009
First and foremost, a huge thank you for all the positive feedback I've had on my blog, from my clients, escort pals and civilian, normal members of society. ;) It's fun to write and for me, this occupation can sometimes really make you laugh or cry, personally I choose laughing like a deranged donkey every time.
I'm just coming back down to Mother Earth after one heck of a week. Tuesday morning I was up and on the road early to Aberdeen where I worked until Friday. Early next morning, I drove home and had two hours to gather my senses and rifle through my suitcase before heading off to see my slave bitch for an overnight. We had a tremendous night, I dressed him up in a feather boa and red g-string with matching red lipstick and had him parade up and down our "catwalk" in the front room. Kate Moss has nothing to worry about for the moment. It's his fantasy to be dominated, but as much as he enjoys the domination it's humiliation that he really enjoys so I'm already cooking up some ideas for our next appointment.
I have a couple of fantasies of my own and my biggest fear has always been that if I ever fulfilled them they wouldn't live up to my expectations and would be a disappointment. One of the fantasies I had was to have an orgy with just me and lots of men. I say "had" because fantabulously, I fulfilled that one in Amsterdam. I had an accidental gangbang. Honest. Now I know you're thinking "Errr, what ?" so I'll explain.
Mr M organised a lovely birthday treat for me last year and bought two tickets for Amsterdam for us both to go and indulge our delicious deviances. As he had never been to the red light area before, I showed him around and we did all the usual tourist things such as the sex shows and the ladies in the windows. ( 50 Euros for him to play and 50 Euros for me to watch, cheeky cow, I must review my pricing. ) Anyway, we were in our hotel room on the evening of night number two and toying with the idea of having a lady to come and visit us for some fun when we found a link for "The Paradise Club". It's a swingers bar/club and came highly recommended. So we jumped into a taxi and arrived at a location which I must say doesn't give much away from the exterior.
The interior, on the other hand was lovely. It looked for all intents and purposes like a standard nightclub except that everyone was walking around either naked or in their underwear. We went for a stroll around and found a swimming pool, a jacuzzi, showers, lockers and the main bar area. It was so relaxed and laid back. We really didn't know how the ethos of the club worked, like how you would approach a couple you liked the look of etc. Do you buy them a drink or give them a wink ?!? Several glasses of wine down at this stage, we gave up on trying to work it all out and wandered off into one of the side rooms for some fun of our own. It was fantastic and there were mirrors everywhere. I'm a visual creature and love to watch too so that suited me down to the ground.
Little did we realise that if you leave the door slightly ajar as we had, it is an invitation for other members to come and watch or join in. I thought it was a bit odd when I was busy beneath Mr M and looked up to see two guys at the end of the bed staring at us intently and licking their lips. After Mr M and I had finished, one of the men ( who had clearly prepared himself, ahem ) said "Would you mind Madam ?"
"Um, of course not".....
.......and so it went on until I finally shrieked at Mr M
"For f*%k's sake, CLOSE THE DOOR !!"
Every time I think about the permutations and combinations that we had that night I end up reaching for my rampant rabbit and if I think about it much more I'll go blind. It was one of my biggest fantasies and it was better than I had ever hoped, looking up at the mirror on the ceiling to see several bodies up to several different activities on me at once was just mind blowing. Mr M and I are already talking about going back in the autumn.
In truth I should probably fill you in on the real conclusion to that tale. After we called time on our impromptu group romp, we went back to the bar and ordered a last drink whilst I sat there grinning like a Cheshire cat. I left Mr M and went up to the very top of the house to what they call "The Dark Room". This room was pitch black, the idea being that it heightens your other senses and you trust your sense of touch more than anything else. It was empty at the time but not for long. A huge big man with a mop of blonde hair came up the stairs behind me faster than you can say "..but I was just looking ... " and in the space of six minutes approximately I arrived back down to the bar and sat beside Mr M like a startled bunny in bright headlights who has just sat on a pineapple.
"Where the very feck were you ?"
"Um, I was just looking around, you know."
I think I 'fessed up the next day at breakfast and we had a laugh about it, but at least next time when we go we'll know how it all works. When we leave the door open this time, it will be very much on purpose. ;)
Speaking of twigging onto things, you'll recall a little while ago I mentioned that Amanda and I have a habit of asking who's turn it is to get oral pleasure when we're doing duos ? We had a delicious duo with one of my off-shore guys in Aberdeen last week and I asked her the standard question. "Yours", came the reply. "Hot diggedy do" I thought, and assumed the position. It was only when she had started with gusto that I remembered. It was my turn on our last tour of Inverness, and now that I think of it it was my turn on our tour of Dundee before that too. The little trollop. We had words about it afterwards and her punishment is to keep it up for the foreseeable future.
Meanwhile, the women of Scotland are celebrating today as we waved farewell to our little angels who have returned to school on the end of our perfectly polished ankle boots, hurrah !! My own little treasure isn't speaking to me at the moment anyway, because I refused to allow her to wear her "Cheryl Cole" false eyelashes this morning. No child of mine is going to school like something from "Stig of the Dump", I don't care how trendy it is. So I'm enjoying the peace and I must be honest, I'm also enjoying my new title of "World's Most Embarrassing Mum". It was a hard fought title that involved singing in the car when her friends are with us, giving her a squidgy kiss on the cheek in the middle of Asda and finally lifting my feet and riding the back of our trolley down the aisle to the check-outs.
A woman's work is never done. ;)
Thursday, 13 August 2009
So I've arrived in Aberdeen and am in one piece. Amanda and I have been having a riot here, the laughs that we have on tour make our "work" seem so much more like play. We had a "Personal Services" moment yesterday, I had a guy in for domination and he really likes face sitting. Amanda was caressing his boy bits with her leather clad boot whilst I (literally) smothered him with my curvy but perfectly formed bottom.
"He's in insurance you know".
"Is he ?"
"Yes, I'm about to give him some FSA regulations he'll never forget".
It has become my mission in life to make Amanda giggle during duos and so far my success rate has been rather high. It has been really exceptionally busy here, so tonight we treated ourselves to a meal out and very nice it was too. I'm looking forward to sinking into the memory foam mattress I have here, it's heaven.
Speaking of sleeping, it has often been said by those who know me well that I would sleep on a washing line and I'm afraid it's true. I would sleep through anything. It reminds me of when I lived in London years ago in Willesden Green. There were three Irish lads living in the flat downstairs from me who were slaves to the beer, especially at weekends. ( They were also a "sleeper" IRA Unit, but I digress ) I often went out with them to "The Spotted Dog" which was our local if I wasn't working. At the time I was working in a hostess bar in Holborn and would often roll in at 4 or 5 am. One night I arrived home at 2am which was early for me, had a glass of wine and jumped into bed.
Some time later I heard the front door go combined with raucous laughter and smiled as I knew it meant the lads were back from their night out. Later in the evening, one of them decided to make chips in the kitchen and promptly fell asleep on their sofa. The whole kitchen went up and you can just imagine the noise outside, two units of London Fire Brigade combined with God knows how many residents in pyjamas all shouting and screaming and where was I ? Snoring away, blissfully unaware.
I'll never forget the sight that greeted me when I opened my eyes. One of the firemen had to literally shake me awake and I thought all my birthdays had come at once. Sadly, all he wanted was to get me out of the house. :(
I had a bit of a near miss lately with my little princess. I think I need to appreciate the fact that she's 8 now and notices things and takes them in. She thinks I'm a tour rep and I meet groups of people at the airport and show them around Scotland. I was packing my bag for Aberdeen when she said to me "Why do you need nappy bags for a tour ?" EEK !! The reason we ladies of negotiable virtue carry said items with us on tour is because it's a hygienic and convenient way to dispose of the products of passion, especially if you're working from a hotel and don't want to leave a very interesting bin for the cleaning staff that clearly screams, "ESCORT!!"
So, once again, I was faced with the task of thinking quickly and if I do say so myself, I really outdid myself this time. I gave her an incredulous look whilst considering my reply ....
"Well, if I have children on the tour bus who need to upchuck, they're very useful because I can hook one handle over each ear and they're good to go."
Phew. It's a good job ingenuity comes almost naturally, I tell thee.
Monday, 10 August 2009
So I'm back from my holidays. When I say "holidays", it was more like an endurance test, not because of the people but because of the geography. I tried to cram too much into too short a time and spent so much time on the road it felt like work. I had a wonderful time though, it's like any family gathering, some you love, some you like, and some you adorn a fixed smile for in the interests of peace.
My Mother was in flying form ;
"Can you drop me to the beauty salon ? I'm running late".
"That's it, just you plough through the main street, it's me who has to live here."
"YOU JUST SAID YOU'RE RUNNING LATE AND I'M DOING 32 IN A 30 ZONE."
I had a wonderful night with my Dad. Quite unexpectedly my Mum offered to look after my little princess for the night so I drove down the country to his place and we sat up until 3.30am just talking and laughing, I can't remember the last time I felt so relaxed. It was with a heavy heart I left him.
I also spent an afternoon with my Nan which was just as I expected.
"You've lost a lot of weight, but if you lost some more you'd look great. Also, your hair is too dark, it makes you look older."
"This from an 87 year old woman in a wheel chair ? Brilliant."
The two of us fell about laughing and I was reminded for the umpteenth time that I'm the only one who gets away with that, but I knew that already. :)
Meanwhile back on the ranch, I'm at war with Royal Mail. At first they had a habit of leaving my mail on the stairs, so when someone opened the back door a tunnel effect was created and my mail blew out into the back garden. Now, they've gone one step further than that. They will come upstairs to my apartment and drop my mail on my doormat, rather than put it through the door. To me that is sheer laziness, so I put in a complaint and had a response today. For the future I fully expect my disgruntled postman to dip my mail in his morning coffee. ( At best, ho hum. )
So today I'm back on the road, WOOHOOO !! I must be the only escort I know who goes to work for a break. I'm off to Aberdeen with my fave Harlot Amanda and looking forward to it immensely. Back to PVC and perversions, I'm chomping at the bit. Speaking of chomping, Big Ric has set me a challenge. He normally books for an hour and spends most of that doing reverse oral because he loves me to squirt, but this time he has asked for 90 minutes to see if he can make me gush. I don't know if I can but it sure as hell will be fun to find out. Lovely man that he is, he sent me a list of home made cakes to choose from. I picked a fresh cream sponge as I have the feeling I'll need a sugar injection afterwards. ;)
Whilst I was on holidays, I was sitting outside a local Spar shop idly waiting for my Mum to come back out with my little princess with loads of over priced plastic toys, when I saw a rather dishevelled man from the corner of my eye. He was perched on a low window ledge and was busy removing large tufts of his hair and moustache with what looked like a pliers and placing them very carefully in an empty coffee cup. I thought to myself ( and not for the first time ) how as much as we seek to complain about our daily lives, to coin a very old but very true saying, there is always someone worse off.
Sunday, 2 August 2009
We expect so much of ourselves as women. Recently I have been thinking about the wonderful women in my life and how I wouldn't be without them. My sister, my Nan, my best friends A and G, my babysitter and good friend of 5 years M, and then of course my floozy friends, Amanda, Caitlin, Melanie, Crista, Tartan, Minx, Susan, Dolly, Olivia, Claire, Amy to name but a few. Oh alright then, my Mum too.
Actually my Mum can be quite sensible and supportive when she wants to be. Recently I was telling her that I'm going to really go for it this summer and get from a size 14 to a size 12. "Oh don't be so silly, if you're doing it for yourself then fine, but just remember, on your headstone will it read 'Here lies Laura, she was a wonderful mother, friend, sister and daughter. Oh and by the way she was a size 12 too.' I think not." She has a point. Quite apart from being a thorn in my side for most of the time, she has been quietly supportive insofar as she recently said " I don't pretend for a minute to understand your desire to do your job, but I am your mother and will support you no matter what." I don't think you could ask for anything more. She was also wonderful when I had my little princess because I was absolutely terrified, I could barely look after myself let alone a helpless newborn. As an indication of how utterly green I was, the hospital showed me how to bath the baby by supporting her head etc, and as it was February and she was born with a mop of black hair I asked where the hair dryers were. The midwives thought that was hysterical, I on the other hand was mortified. It was my mother who had to gently explain to me, " Ahem, you towel dry her hair."
My sister and I were each other's birthing partners, so I don't think you could have two women closer than that. The day of her delivery was one to be remembered for a long time. Her labour started so I was busy doing my make-up, in case of cute doctors, obviously. Hello, priorities ? Anyway, we thought we had hours and hours to go so I was busy making tea and keeping her calm when her waters went so we thought we'd better get to the hospital. I'll never forget driving like a loony through the city, screaming at white van men to get out of my way. Eventually we screeched to a halt on one of the busiest roads of the city and I double parked. I had some paper in my handbag and I put a note in the window : "WOMAN IN LABOUR, PLEASE DO NOT CLAMP." All credit where credit is due, they didn't even give me a ticket, it must have been a lady traffic warden. ;)
The role of women has changed so much over the years, something my Nan and I have discussed many times. She thinks women have it so much easier now with washing machines, dishwashers, etc. Actually I disagree. Not only do we expect much more of ourselves now, but society does too. We should be thin, educated, beautiful, successful, glamorous, practical, diligent, hard working, loving and caring whilst still strong, nurturing, empathetic, the list is endless. I remember watching a movie late one night with my Nan when a sex scene came on. (EEK !! ) She turned to me and said ;
"For the love of God, why is she making that racket ?"
"She's enjoying it Nan."
"Don't be ridiculous".
To her sex was a chore, something you did as a duty to your husband. Mind you she comes from an era when patent leather shoes were banned at school because the nuns said they reflected the girl's underwear.
The reason I started thinking about women is that I have just finished re-reading "A Thousand Splendid Suns" by Khaled Hosseini which is set in 1970's Afghanistan and tells the story of two women who bonded in the face of unspeakable brutality and oppression. It is one of the very few books that moved me to tears. ( A big thank you to the lady who asked if I was ok at Ayr beach, I'm fine, I just need some more evening primrose oil and to stop reading books like the afore mentioned. )Such appalling treatment of women continues to this day, as can be witnessed with so called "honour killings". I've included a link below which I must warn you is very upsetting.
It is truly incredible that this barbaric practice continues in an age when we celebrate our rights as individuals to basic human rights.
Please don't worry, I've not transformed into a Julie Bindel wannabe and am not about to shave off my hair and don some dungarees. Aside from the fact Amanda would kill me with her bare hands, I wanted to celebrate my sisters, for their courage, tenacity and strength. I'll leave you with my favourite quote from Eleanor Roosevelt;
Women are like teabags. We don't know our true strength until we are in hot water.