February 20, 2010
Alright technically mid morning to early lunch – had an extra lie in. Call from a guy who sounds a little constipated but I am not quite fully awake to differentiate finer acoustic details. He tells me that he has seen and liked my profile for which I thank him graciously. He then tells me that he woke up horny – for a moment I held my breath lest this would lead him to commence a Blues number. No he continues talking and asked my availability. I quote him my earliest appointment time some 4 hours in the future based on a careful algorithm that considers overall state of moi, grogginess, extra grooming, travel and generally switching from auto pilot. He tells me having seen my site I was worth waiting for. I asked if he wanted to make the booking but instead he asks if I mind seeing big guys. I reply in the affirmative and reassure him that since I am no skinny minny myself I don’t have any issues with weight. But he already continues to tell me that ’Big girls like big guys and that he tends to get on with them’ I presume he means big girls but my mind is not completely in focus. His breathing is a little laboured. I am thinking poor guy and am contemplating to recommend extra fibre in his diet. He then asked if I minded 10 inches. I then realise he is not constipated at all. I finish the call abruptly as I hate those kinds of conversations and because my body demands ney screams for a shot of caffeine. Of course I mind ten inches! What is wrong with some people? Why can’t they be sensible and at least quote in centimetres!
January 30, 2010
It seems the inability to ask for directions might be in particular an affliction of the Anglo-Saxon Homo erectus… A French study begs to differ and rebuts the findings of an English study that claims the G-Spot does not exist. Apparently, French men do know where to look – well, if one studies the typical French movie the best way to search for this button is by plonking the woman on the kitchen table and root around, usually after a heated argument, furiously smoking a cigarette and waving ones hands around and many typical Gallic shrugs. Whatever the ritual involved finding the blasted spot, I am surprised to hear that 60% of French women have it and their English sisters apparently not. At the risk of sounding offensive (well, it is my blog so sue me lol) given on how many neurotic French women I have encountered – either I only met with those falling into the 40% group or they have not had their button pressed.
In my professional capacity as a floozy, I am not keen on the kind of dogged insistence of some guys who see it as a personal mission to locate and push that button. They are often the kind of person that fails to see the bigger picture of moi, a living breathing woman with a personality. Instead, they focus on my inner bits with some mental alternative to the Ford Escort manual and prod around where the plumbing ought to be. Luckily, I rarely encounter such ‘intrepid’ explorers as most gents realise that achieving bliss is not just pure mechanics but a combination of physical and mental stimulation as a holistic approach. However, hobbyist forums are full of the kind of men that swap notes that could easily read out of context appear to be motor repair tips. Ironically, their quest to find the Holy Grail of Punting has nothing to do with the actual lady’s feelings on the matter and is all about the equivalent of erecting an explorer’s flag up there… The type of people who post in-depth instructions of how to turn on the ‘waterworks’ i.e. to get the women squirting remind me off podgy Gary Larson ‘Far Side’ cartoon boys with milk bottle thick glasses that mount big bugs as specimen…
Anyway, all you lovely gents I can stop the agony over trying to find my G Spot – it is really easy to locate and very easy to reach – it nestles seductively inside my silk purse….
January 29, 2010
AUF4U9MECV5G
Do not worry mes petit pois – I am not about to join some secret organisation but am merely registering my blog on Technorati – a search engine site for blogs. So far this has been a long and frustrating process taking several months and aborted attempts. I am beginning to think it is easier to arrange a tea dance with some Yetis. But once more I shall try….
January 28, 2010
Well, either lock away or loosen your wallets as moi is back in town and raring to put those seamed stockings back on. I extended my winter floozy sabbatical as I did not fancy braving adverse road conditions. Ok so that was probably the official excuse – in truth, I love the South West of France and leapt at the chance of meeting with more friends and family in those extra days. That is the beauty of being the Mistress of one’s own Harlot Empire lol. I am a firm believer in a good life balance and time away from you lovely gents helps to keep me sane and thus happier to entertain you for quite some time to come. Anyway, wonder if it is an incentive or actually scares the living daylights out of any of you – I am full of energy and happy to get back into the saddle. Yeeehaaaa!
December 5, 2009
Was what I thought to myself yesterday. I know many of the mature Hotties out there tend to put a minimum age down for the gents they welcome. But so far, I have never imposed any such limitation. And I am really glad because despite all the media hype around the youth dumbing down and youngsters not being what they used to be in previous decades – in truth, I have come across some really wonderful young gents. My most recent encounter has yet again reaffirmed my belief and trust in this mantra. I had the pleasure of meeting a young gentleman who came across as far more mature than his age belied and whose conversation was as riveting as his lovely eyes. I truly believe that you can connect and have a great time with people across all age groups.