Monthly Archives: December 2013

When Honey Drips – A Courtesans’ Pleasure Part 3

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I’m aware that my erotic writings can come off as pompous. I do not want to give this impression, as I’m rather humble. But my instances with great admirers and lovers induced these realities — I never elected to be praised or admired, but fate had it that I am a delicate rose for them..

My loves are well versed in my ripeness, and my admirers quickly learn about it  —  they all know how euphoric our experience will be when I’m ripe. Just like bee’s know the bliss of pollinating the fragrant rose– my lovers and admirers know there are certain times when my fragrance, taste, touch and visuals are simply irresistible.

Synchronous with the moon cycle, I go through a phase of ripening — like a sweet fruit or blossomed flower. It seeps out of my skin, speaking silent words, which say that I’m deliciously ripe, at my tastiest peak. I cannot even hide this secret, as it becomes obvious that my body is exceptionally warm, exceptionally soft, delicate, and exceptionally aroused. This erotic ripeness is written all over my face, even though there are no words. This invisible language somehow conveys that there is silky yearning from between my thighs. My lips, already full and thick, become more plump. My pink flower becomes more fragrant. My bosoms, more tender and soft. Even my soft feminine feet speak this language too. I take well care to emphasize these yearnings, by bathing and grooming so lavishly.

On this particular morning of ripeness, I wake up from a relaxing sleep. My body is warm and slightly damp from a light, fragrant sweat. Whenever I feel this sensual dampness from my body, I remember the times when a former lover begged to taste my perspiration, such as under my heavy breasts or on my neck. Scent is a lovers comfort. Anyway, on this particular morning, I remain lazed in my bed. As usual, I squeeze my large breasts and hug my body as a form of comfort. My breasts feel exceptionally soft, tender, and erotically sensitive. Then I softly squeeze other parts of myself. I put my hands between my legs, feeling the softness of skin and heat between my thighs, and then put my hands over my soft hips. I relieve a heavy sigh, and felt an intense yearning to be touched, caressed, kissed. What bliss it would be to be gently thrusted right at this moment. For the moment, I start to fantasize about my lovers of the past and present. I am reminded of the countless erotic mornings where my lover is beside me in bed — morning passion is my favorite, but I shall write about that another time. Meanwhile, I fantasize about a lovers warm thickness inside of me, I am yearning to erupt. But then, my phone beeps, and I remember that a client will be arriving shortly. Rather than explore by myself, I decide to unleash my arousal on this new client that I haven’t met before. I have high hopes that this client will be lovely, for a ripen beauty awaits

I quickly tidy up my home, and then have a streamy bath. I wash my body thoroughly under hot water. And then I shave my intimate parts to pure smoothness. Afterwards, I lather myself in a fragrant lotion. I decorate myself in all the ways that brought my other admirers to awe. I keep imagining how aroused this client will feel when he see’s me. I can’t wait to reveal myself to him, and impress him with my beauty and seeping sensuality. I observe myself as I stand, how my ample breasts are peeking out of my lacy bra, how my g-string tightly clings to my hips, how my anklets make my legs and polished toes look pretty, how my thick glossed lips look tasty, and how long silky black hair drapes around my exotic face. Before I become too full of myself, I remind myself about what’s most important: being grateful, so I say “Alhamdolilah” for everything.

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And the Almighty answers my heart, as I’m blessed with having clients with lovely hearts and romantic mannerisms. At times, I could be in melancholy mood, yet my day is brightened from seeing lovely clients. The new client finally arrives. He is an older man, very polite and soft spoken. I can tell he has a good heart, which soothes my happiness right away. As we made introductions, he kisses my hand. He then respectfully hands over an envelope with the money for our allocated time. We then proceed to the purpose of our appointment..

I suppose I tease in a very subtle way. While we exchange some introductory chatter, I am fully aware that he is absorbing my voluptuousness, my erotic look. I am also aware that my well-endowed cleavage is on display for his eyes, and that he is yearning to touch them. My buxomness is yearning to be cuffed by manly hands, and suckled by a warm mouth. Without words, I give him permission to touch me, as I gently place his hands on my warm skin. He caresses my breasts, and wants to kiss my lips simultaneously. But I motion him to kiss my cheeks and neck instead. I only permit him a small kiss, without tongue. I do not passionately kiss men so easily. But for this client, there are many other delicious spots where he can taste.

My bra comes off and reveals breasts that are beckoning to be suckled. Like a child yearns for milk, grown men desire my voluptuous breasts like I’m providing the comfort of milk (though I have none). Yet their desire does me great wonders too. He feasts upon them and suckles gently, while I’m starting to lose myself in a trance. It’s not that I’m even particularly attracted to this client, but his immense respect and sweet admiration makes me want to be playful.

After, his hands gently pass over all over my body. He reaches my thighs and then over my panties. I’m fully aware of what potential bliss he might induce upon me. My thoughts are exceptionally vain, because I know he wants to please me. I know he will slowly work his way down, and move his face to my core. His face arrives between my thighs. I hold my breasts while I watch him soothe his curiosity of my feminine parts. He opens my legs, where I am completely exposed to him. I can feel myself moisten as I’m exposing myself. He says, ever so sweetly, “Can I taste you? Is that allowed?” His mannerisms and touch is so delightful that he didn’t even need to ask. But since he is mindful of my comfort, I give him permission, “Yes… please…taste me.” I am deeply honoured when men ask permission before exploring me further, even though it’s not always necessary when I’m deeply aroused. His courtesy only furthers his goodness in my eyes.

He feasts upon me so softly and delicately, and I am melting all over his lips. When I’m ripe, my body emits a scent that makes my worshippers crave. Yes, a fragrant rose who summons the bees to consume the sweet nectar………………..

Rather than divulge into the rest of the details with this client, I will begin with another client who arrived at my home right after. After this new client left, I was still immensely warmed and aroused. Another client would be arriving shortly, a regular client of mine whom I know well. I was pondering about getting out my toys to satisfy my yearnings, but again, I decided to unleash these passions on my next client…….

A regular client of mine arrives. Very quickly, he detects my ripeness by the flush in my face, and he wants to make me bloom more. He undresses me, removing my bra, removing my elegant heels. And then, I watch him as he feasts upon me. Every man has their own unique way to caress my body, and I thoroughly enjoy to see how each man seduces me. He put my soft feminine feet in his warm mouth, licking and caressing each toe. Gradually, his lips move up my legs, up to my thighs. And he dove in to taste me. He gently dips one of his fingers inside my melting honey pot and then he put the same finger in my mouth and said, “Look how delicious you taste.” Fruits are more sweet when ripe. Once my sweet bee felt satiated with my taste, both of us yearn to connect. There is nothing more blissful than feeling a desirable man’s thickness enter the tensed, silky warmth between my legs. Like a bee to a rose, I bloom more..

To be continued.

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Prostitution: Elitism & Why I Despise the “Man in a Business Suit.”

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Like many young minds, I once believed the stereotypes that were socialized into my little mind from a young age. Back then, I had no idea that the debauched images, ideas and discourses from the mass media would vastly influence me to have a narrow outlook on life. When I started prostitution, I had a naive sense that wealthy-looking men were the ideal clients. It was not only clients, but I had a naive admiration of the ‘prestigious’ and ‘elite.’ Only later, I realized that the most ‘prestigious’ people are actually quite poor, poor in they have not acquired any compassion or true beauty (ihsan). Very quickly I learned that wealth does not necessarily imply a persons inner qualities. True wealth and beauty are not material or physical, true wealth is in the heart. With clients, I realized the loveliest men are those whom are humble, easy-going and unscathed by the poison of Western-Liberal values. My ex and the Sheik, among others, are the best examples of such men.

Years ago, fresh to the sex industry, I remember an older prostitute who put us younger escorts into perspective. While all of us were chatting together, a newbie escort announced, “I only want to see clients with business suits!” Shortly after, a well-dress client entered, wearing a business suit and carrying a polished leather briefcase. The older prostitute joked, “Don’t get too excited girls. He might be jobless, going for an interview.” In other words, the older prostitute was trying to say that a ‘business suit’ doesn’t really mean anything — it doesn’t mean he will be a worthy client. She was right. A lovely, generous, warm-hearted client can exist in any form, any ethnicity, and any social class — and more importantly, in any type of clothing.

As mentioned in previous posts, some of the most generous clients I have had are those who do not actively showcase their wealth. As well, even regular working or middle-class men can also be generous and lovely. I was once naive enough to believe that a man dressed sharply in a posh business suit was the ideal client. But now, after all these years, I find the business suit quite unappealing. It’s not the actual clothes I despise, but I despise the VALUES associated with the business suit. The ‘business suit’ is symbolic of modern capitalism; It’s the image of condoning unequal profit, greed, competition, exploitation, egotism, ignoring the metaphysical — and even worse, this mentality and it’s associated values are PRAISED and embraced in the West, and increasingly being praised in non-Western societies. Sadly, so many people are seduced by these material values, which they consider important and worthy. This reminds me of a quote from the book, “Tuesday’s With Morrie,” below:

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It’s also very sad to see so-called Muslims exhibit and condone these traits of business ‘professional’ ethics, which is completely the antithesis of Islam:

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Now, of course, not all men who wear suits are the heartless, soulless persons with no values that I am depicting. And equally, not all businesses have inhumane objectives. Of course not. The business suit has become a norm, and indeed some whom wear it do not subscribe to the values it currently symbolizes. Some have to wear this business attire out of conformity, or expectation, but it does not define who they are. Here lies the importance of not judging on first appearances. We all wear facades and labels, but the trueness of individual is much deeper.

I, too, portray myself in ways that can be misleading. I advertise myself under all the terms of “elite,” “high-class,” “upscale,” “exclusive.” These terms could easily signify that I’m arrogant, pretentious, shallow, etc. These terms have very vague meanings, yet I only use them to market myself accordingly to the norms of escorting world. Sadly, the terms ‘elite’ and ‘high-class’ are the accepted descriptors for prostitutes who are allegedly physically beautiful, clean, well-mannered and can provide good service. If I don’t use these words, then clients might assume I’m the opposite of those qualities. It’s ironic. Subscribing to the term ‘elite’ does not make me a better lover, nor does it make me better person. In essence, good companionship and good sex HAS no class, no discriminant.

Like many odd reasons, our society embraces this notion of being “exclusive” — excluding others, and being only available to eligible persons. This makes me feel sad. I wish I didn’t have to use these arrogant terms for myself when advertising. However, although I would love to be more inclusive with whom I see,  I have to be exclusive when advertising. The unfortunate reality is that there are many “bad” seeds of clientele that exist in the escorting world. If I am too inclusive, then I make myself vulnerable to danger, undesirables, the heartless, etc. I do not like to give the impression that I’m “exclusive” in an arrogant way. I’m only “exclusive” to protect myself from the ills of the sex industry. In essence, I welcome decent, kind, warm-hearted men from ALL social statures so long they can pay for my services. I see that many “high-class” escorts misuse their imagined status — they develop an ego. Some escorts mistakenly assume that being ‘elite’ makes them better, and also believe that ‘elite’ men implies better clients. I made this mistake too, but very quickly realized I was wrong in my assumption. Judging clients on their heart and intentions is much more wise than judging on their level of material prestige. But one only learns with experience…

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