After getting back to work today I can safely say my professional opinion is men who please me and don’t rush our time together are definately the better lovers. Men who want their alpha male experience or a p*** star experience definately don’t make the cut. I hate to say the best men are well house trained but this is what one of my clients said today after he said men were an unruly bunch when I complained about some of the silliness which happens in the world.

When I picked up more cigarettes between clients I wore one of my trademark vintage style skirt suits with seamed stockings. I like smartstyles. What I didn’t like was walking past a long traffic jam feeling like the whole world was staring from behind glass made opaque from reflections of the bright sky. I felt the akward tightness of my jacket and long pencil skirt skirt over my hips with the whole world quitely thinking to themselves “C***! C***! C***! C***! C***!” I felt a strange sense of serenity. I am a c*** for hire and the whole long line of traffic could have fucked me there naked but for my lingerie. Legs spread. Taking all the c*** in the town. Nobody would and neither would I because reality doesn’t work this way. It is a funny thing though knowing all that is between y p**** and c*** is a shared sense of good behaviour and bluff.

When we walk past each other in the street I wonder what your thoughts are. I am a c*** for f****** for money. I am a w**** seperated from you by a few feet of air and fabric and satin covering milky white smooth naked flesh. You could get on me and in me or hurry to a nearby hotel with me so easily with a delicate perfume of money lingering in the air.

Oh, God. Money makes me feel so s***.