Friday, January 30, 2004
Call girls
I sent Dale the url to Belle de Jour's blog and he said that it was very entertaining. I voiced out my interest in becoming a call girl. He laughed, saying I wouldn't enjoy it as it would turn out to be work and not fun. Well, I said, if I could have fun and get good money for having fun, that wouldn't be too bad at all. He laughed again. He cited this line from Belle de Jour, saying that call girls were paid as much to leave as they were to show up. That got me thinking.
We talked about the movie, "The Full Monty," and I learned a few things about Sheffield and the local colloquialisms. Like, what a daft bugger was. Then he mentioned that he'd seen posters of the group, The Chip & Dales, around the city. They were probably coming over. He suggested that my girlfriends and I get tickets to the show, for laughs. I said I didn't see the point. I mean, why pay that much money to watch guys take off their clothes and in the end, I can't even get one of them to come home with me? Now, if they were to pay me to watch them, that would make a lot more sense. He laughed at my logic.
Back to this getting-paid-to-leave bit. I realize now that it's money that justifies this wham-bam-thank-you-ma'm approach to sex. I've had that a lot, with Patrick and these other guys. It always left me cold. If I were a prostitute, I'd have to accept that. But as I'm not, it always confused me. Of course, these dickheads were only in it for the sex. They weren't looking for a relationship. But that they didn't even want to know the person they were fucking is a bit too strange for me. Dale calls it mutual masturbation. For these dickheads, it's the fantasy that matters.
I've always wanted to know the guy I was with. Not because I'd want to see him again, but because he is a person, not a thing like a vibrator.
Speaking of vibrators, Dale says he's going to get me this butterfly vibrator that I can wear over my clit, with a strap around the waist. The thing he likes about it is that it comes with a remote control, so we can be sitting there having dinner and he can turn it on and watch me melt in my seat, wetting my panties. He is mean. I'd rather he get me a huge, black dildo that he can ram in my cunt right after he's made me explode cum all over the sheets.
We talked about the movie, "The Full Monty," and I learned a few things about Sheffield and the local colloquialisms. Like, what a daft bugger was. Then he mentioned that he'd seen posters of the group, The Chip & Dales, around the city. They were probably coming over. He suggested that my girlfriends and I get tickets to the show, for laughs. I said I didn't see the point. I mean, why pay that much money to watch guys take off their clothes and in the end, I can't even get one of them to come home with me? Now, if they were to pay me to watch them, that would make a lot more sense. He laughed at my logic.
Back to this getting-paid-to-leave bit. I realize now that it's money that justifies this wham-bam-thank-you-ma'm approach to sex. I've had that a lot, with Patrick and these other guys. It always left me cold. If I were a prostitute, I'd have to accept that. But as I'm not, it always confused me. Of course, these dickheads were only in it for the sex. They weren't looking for a relationship. But that they didn't even want to know the person they were fucking is a bit too strange for me. Dale calls it mutual masturbation. For these dickheads, it's the fantasy that matters.
I've always wanted to know the guy I was with. Not because I'd want to see him again, but because he is a person, not a thing like a vibrator.
Speaking of vibrators, Dale says he's going to get me this butterfly vibrator that I can wear over my clit, with a strap around the waist. The thing he likes about it is that it comes with a remote control, so we can be sitting there having dinner and he can turn it on and watch me melt in my seat, wetting my panties. He is mean. I'd rather he get me a huge, black dildo that he can ram in my cunt right after he's made me explode cum all over the sheets.
