#decided to draw mandy because my girlfriend’s name is mandy and i thought it was really funny

[gobullworth]

who else is wiling out!

[bookswithmissingpages]

In Boston I got a chance to attend Master Romeo's "high-roller" parties, and that was a trip. I met all the big sharks, guys whose primary goal in life seemed to be to spend as much money as pos- sible. There was one guy who was a real-life 40-Year-Old Virgin. He'd been too busy working on becoming a multimillionaire, I guess, to worry about getting laid when he was still young, but by the time I met him, he was doing his best to make up for lost time. He became an excellent regular customer. I also met a bunch of Montreal Girlfriends who were working the party, and that was useful too. One of those girls was named Mandy, and we became instant friends. Mandy was a nut job. She had a psychotic boyfriend who was on lithium, and they were always on the verge of killing each other. Her boyfriend was allergic to shellfish, and when she was mad at him, she'd do things that were completely crazy like put pieces of shrimp in his toothpaste. But she made me laugh. After we met, she was always trying to get me to go places and do things with her. She had gotten this idea in her head that after she was done working in Boston she wanted to fly out to San Francisco just to go to this gay club where the guys supposedly jerked off onstage. I had just banked off of the millionaires, so I thought, What the hell? I went with her. While we were in California together, I told Mandy about 113 What happened was not much. We booked maybe four or five appointments over the course of a full week. Mandy met the clients at a local hotel and said they were fine—decent guys and decent tippers—but if I could get only a handful of appointments for the one girl I was running that week, how was I ever going to find enough work to keep several girls busy at a time? I wasn't very hopeful. A couple weeks later I wrote an e-mail with a similarly worded offer that the Colonel sent out to everyone on his mailing list. We did nothing else but send out that e-mail blast, and, in short, we banked that week. We brought in just over $10,000 in five days, and Mandy walked home with $7,000 in profit. The response was unbelievable. I had to scramble around to find last-minute hotel rooms so that Mandy had a place for all her appointments. (Because I wasn't expecting much, I had booked her a room for only a cou- ple of days.) I even had to turn guys away, and many asked when we'd be coming back. We were both worn out by the end of the week, but I had also made up my mind. This mailing list idea was the way to go. I told Colonel Ed I'd buy his list. The price we agreed on was $50,000. I thought it was a pretty good deal because I figured I could make that back in just a few months. But it was also more, by far, than I'd ever invested in anything. Besides, I'd done Web sites before but never e-mail lists, and Colonel Ed made it sound hard. He offered to stay on and help me with the technical stuff in exchange for a fee of $500 per girl per week. I went for it. I quickly raised the money I needed, and the Colonel and I became business partners in New Jersey. One of the first things I did was create an identity for my busi- ness. That's when I came up with the name Girlfriend Experience, which tells clients what type of service we offer because most peo- ple familiar with the escort industry are familiar with that term. I decided on this because my research into what was already being 114 Colonel Ed and his offer to help me start a business in New Jersey. Colonel Ed had told me he had an e-mail list of eight thousand potential clients in a relatively untapped area of northern New Jer- sey. He said that someone could use his list to set up a small, quiet but lucrative escort agency there without having to place ads in magazines or on the Internet, which could draw unwanted atten- tion. The problem with ads, which were the way I had always started up my businesses before, is that anyone—potential clients, potential employees, as well as potential problems in the way of police or community groups who look for such things—can find them. Even regular people can cause trouble if they make enough noise. But with an e-mail list, I'd have direct and private access to customers so that I could be as discreet as I wanted to be. It sounded like a great opportunity, which I have a hard time passing up, but I was uncertain about the whole thing. I had never worked in a place like that before. Sure, I had lived with Andre in New Jersey, so I knew the area a little bit, and I'd had my brothels in New York, which isn't very far away, but this would be differ- ent. In New Jersey I wouldn't be working out of a big city like I'd done with all my other businesses. This was more like the suburbs, with houses and families. It would have to be a completely differ- ent kind of setup than I'd ever had before. "Maybe he'll let us try it out," Mandy suggested, which was a fantastic idea. She agreed to be my guinea pig. After our trip to San Francisco, we went to test the New Jersey waters and this list of Colonel Ed's. We decided that the best way to test the effectiveness of Ed's list was to compare it to my old way of starting up a business. First, I used my usual tactic of placing ads in the kinds of magazines and newspapers that I thought locals who might be interested in escort services would see. We advertised that Mandy was in the area for a special visit, one week only, and then sat back and waited to see what would happen. 115 offered in the area showed that it was all pretty much straight sex, no frills, and not a lot of options. Standing out in that pack was easy. I decided to highlight the fact that we were offering more than just sex; we were offering an erotic experience. I figured that would not only set us apart but appeal to the kinds of high-end customers I wanted, the kinds who are professional, stable, and have enough money to use our services regularly. When we sent out the first e-mail to Colonel Ed's list introduc- ing our new escort agency, I phrased it as if I were offering them admission to an exclusive club. It said, "You have been specially selected to receive a free membership upon approval of your cre- dentials and status. Only qualified applicants are considered for this limited offer." Again, I was appealing to the kinds of customers I wanted, the ones who would be attracted to exclusivity and luxury and who would appreciate, even require, that we be discreet. I also set up a Web site that customers could go to for more information about us and our girls and included the Web address in the e-mail. After that, I sat back and waited for my phone to ring. It rang almost immediately.

[rachelsmithson]

The Best Friends and the Half-girlfriend

No this is not a story about a three-some.

Helllooooo ladies, boy do I have stories and gossip to share with you. Scandalous tales, only the best, of course. But god where to start...

So I’ve been loving my new life down here in Miami. Seriously, this city has done its work to earn the name “The Magic City”. It is magical, in quite a fantastic manner really. There is an aire of confidence that everyone walks around with, a sort of ballsy spunk, with a bit of spire and sexual fiestiness that maintains a slightly electric, yet incredibly laid-back environment. And you come to crave it, after a while. You probably won’t show up craving it but give or take a month and a half or two months and you find yourself sporting a desire for what is famously known as the Miami vice. 

Now before I continue, I should remind you of a few things. I change names, so everyone is ultimately anonymous-because if not, then what is the point of an anonymous blog. Secondly, reality check, I’m fucking bloated af. Like dying. I’m about to get my period but this past week I swear I’ve just ballooned. Like fuck me. But all in the natural cycle I guess, and I just am going to have to wait this one out. I eat like a freak so I’m pretty sure it has nothing to do with me eating like shit because I honestly don’t eat. Unhealthy, sure. But you have your problems, and I have mine. So let’s just be accepting and move on. But my point with that whole thing is that I’m human. You’re human. So I’m going to tell you my stories, and draw you in. I want you to be right there with me. Seeing it through my eyes, experiencing it through my body. As someone who wants to go into film, I want to know that I can not only tell the story, but create the entire essence of it. But remember, at the end of the day, I’m a writer, and part of the beauty of being a writer is you get to create the truth. Yes, you heard me. You don’t simply copy down your stories. If you don’t like the ending, or you don’t like the part in the middle, you, as a writer, have the ability to create your own story--the one that you tell the audience. I’m a big believer in not twisting the truth. I see it as lying to my audience. But as you sit there and read this, you should be questioning me. Aww see, now I’ve got you thinking, wondering, skeptical. I guess you’re just going to have to take my word for it. But if I’m making you think, I’ve done my job.

So, on to the best friends and the half-girlfriend. Yet, because there are the shitty situations I get myself into. I’m telling you, it’s that Miami vice. 

On August 17th, I picked up my life from my beautiful studio apartment in Midtown and moved myself into Unit #3902 in what I am going to call for the sake of this blog, the San Maritz Brickell, on Brickell Bay Drive. Damn I’m going to miss that studio apartment. All the windows, facing west. Watching the sunset almost every evening. Yeah, I’m really going to miss it. But I can’t think of a better place to have stayed for my introduction to Miami. I think it truly set me up for success.

Mandy, the sweetheart that she is, helped me move all my things. We were exhausted by the end of the day. I also had literally zero furniture. I started work on August 21st and since then, it’s been a crazy slew of working really hard and attempting to slowly fill my apartment with furniture. 

The Sunday after moving into my place, I had Oliver’s friend Zach follow me on Instagram. Not realizing who it was at first, I followed him back. As I was looking at his insta, I realized this was the guy who my friend Samantha had hooked up with when we visited the 305 in April. I also realized that a lot of his photos were tagged at the location “San Maritz Brickell”. I saw there wondering and finally said fuck it and dm’d Zach. “Hey sorry this is a bit weird but do you live in the San Maritz Brickell?” Came to find out that indeed, he does. Last I had remembered, he had told my friend he would be moving to NYC and working for a large enterprise corporation there so I was surprised. We exchanged phone numbers and low key texted throughout the weekend. That Sunday before I started working the following day, he messaged me being like hey want to go to the hot tub. I said yes, and thought nothing of it. 

Now allow me to delve for a minute into the nature of the friendship between Zach & Oliver. Zach is like Oliver’s older brother. He’s one of the few people that Oliver actually looks up to and trusts and listens to and even, leans from. And that’s saying something because Oliver is one stubborn, hard-headed boy.

That night Zach and I hung out for almost 5 hours. I don’t think I thought anything of it until later, but that’s a long time to hang out with anyone really especially the first time you’re hanging out. Oliver was going to be returning to Miami that evening and I was low-key excited. This was our chance, we were finally in the same city, and this was really honestly our last shot at making this work. However, when he texted me back he was clearly not happy about his friends and i living in the same building and felt it was “sketchy”. Of course. Here we go again. In the following days after Sunday, Zach and I hit the hot tub on Monday, Tuesday, and Friday. On Friday, Zach turns to me and asks if I’ve talked to Oliver or told him we had been hanging out. “No, not at all” was my response. Oliver and I had started to text that day but he would take 4-5 hours to respond to me, which is just pure bullshit. As I came to find out, apparently that same day Zach had liked one of my photos on instagram of me with my dad and Oliver texted him being like, “Oh so are you a big fan of Rachel’s dad?” Greatttt... Zach showed me the conversation that had back and forth although it wasn’t anything particularly interesting. Just typical Oliver being petty and Zach being like yo what’s your issue tho. Zach continued on to tell me how Oliver wanted to go out, but Zach wasn’t feeling it. At one point he started joking about showing up with me and I was like, “Could we not do that though? That’ll just be so awkward for both me and Oliver”. That night Zach and I were in the hot tub until 10:30pm when it started to downpour. We grabbed our stuff and raced into my building. Oh, I should add, there are two towers in my building. Zach lives in the other one. We get inside and agree that we will keep drinking at my place and then he can go back to his building and change and then we can go out. That way, if it was raining, I wouldn’t have to get my hair wet (Zach’s quote, you know I don’t give a damn about this).

Once inside my apartment, he turned to me and goes “Hey, do you have a towel or something I can use for now? I don’t really want to just be sitting around in a wet bathing suit”. I obviously respect that, because that sucks, so I gave him a towel and he changed out of his bathing suit. So in the back of my mind, I’m like great, now this guy is pretty much naked in a towel walking around in my living room. Which at the time had zero furniture in it anyways. I had also just assumed because Zach and Oliver were such good friends and Zach had hooked up with my best friend Samantha, that there was no way anything would ever happen between Zach and I. Too many reasons not to.

But there we are in my apartment, and at this point I decide that if I’m going out, I’m drinking tequila. So I pull out the tequila I had bought that day and cracked the bottle. I made myself a drink and then he started sipping on it. 

“What’s in this?”

“Tequila, lime juice, and club soda”

“Oh man”, he laughs. “Tequila makes me horny”.

However, he keeps drinking mine so I make myself my own. We sit on my floor, joking around. Him playfully slapping my ass once or twice, but it was all in good fun. I truly had no concept of just how much we had drank until I went over to the bottle to make more, and realized we had finished the entire bottle of tequila. Like...whattttttt. But one thing lead to another. First, he was rubbing my neck because it was sore from kickboxing. Then, he turned me around so he could “take care of it properly” and started massaging my neck and shoulders and back. At this point, I was obviously dying inside and really enjoying this. Then he asked me if I would mind doing the same for his. Being drunk and in an incredibly flirty mood (thank you tequila), I straddled his back and sat on his butt and started rubbing his back, shoulders, head and arms. Occasionally he would list his hands to try to feel my butt and my legs, and I would push them down and massage them instead. But then at one point, I Started to run my nails up and down his back. I could feel him tensing up whenever I ran them over a certain part of his back and I kept doing that. Slowly, smoothly, in long strokes. 

And all of a sudden my world was flipped upside down and my mind was blown. Lol, well that’s the short version of the story anyways. One moment, I am on top of him and the next I am underneath him and we are making out. And our clothes are coming off. And we are in my living room on the carpet with the whole of Miami out there able to see it for whoever is fortunate enough to have a view of 39 floors up. He firmly pushes me up against the wall with my back to him before reaching around and very literally ripping my bra off. We left our phones in the living room that night and made it to my bed before tackling each other. He’s on my neck and biting my lip and I swear my life had turned into a dirty fantasy. I can’t make this shit up. He likes in in more ways than one so got to have some fun with that. Firm, slightly rough, without being aggressive. Now that’s a gift. After it was done, he grabbed us water and we ended up passing out. When we woke up at 5am, we had sex again, took a shower together, and then he showed me the show Rick & Morty till 7am. Then, he talked to me outside on my balcony from 7am to 9am. It was really nice, he’s actually an amazing guy. From Chicago, was in the armed services, incredibly discipline and work ethic, 26, down to earth, and these crazy crazy green eyes. So after he left that morning, I did the only thing I know how to do. I told myself it was never going to happen again. 

But that didn’t stop me from dreaming about it for pretty much all of the beginning of last week. Literally, I’d be at work and all of a suddeen I was being pulled into some dark erotic corner of my mind, and having to snap myself out of it. My only source of relief came from the text I got on Wednesday that confirmed I hadn’t been the only one thinking about it. I’m not going to go into detail about what this text said but it referenced the bottle of tequila and what came after it made me turn as pink as the dress I was wearing. I literally couldn’t even finish reading it or respond to it until I was completely out of work. This flirting over text went back and forth till Thursday afternoon. I had to grab drinks with a guy, a pity date if you will because he fucked up once and is still trying to make it up to me and I was not having it. So we grabbed drinks and I was outta there by 7:30pm. Zach asked if I wanted to hit the hot tub so we ended up doing that until 11pm and then went back up to my place and ordered pizza. We kept drinking and stayed up till about 2am, but slight catch. We were genuinely talking about shit. IVY social, the Wells Fargo crash, the incident with Morgan Stanley. And when we went to bed, he very much came to bed with me. But not without a bit of sex first :) We both slept about 3.5 hours that night, but I honestly would say it was worth it. I was dying to have that happen again and really needed it. I felt so much better afterwards. However, I do need to look into numbing lube. Yes, apparently this is a thing and the only way I know about it is through him. He got a bit weird earlier on me this weekend, but I think he’s just making sure we both keep some distance between us since we are both also seeing other people. I’m cool with that, it’s probably healthier.

But the amount I’ve been thinking about him isn’t and I gotta watch that. Oliver and him got in a bit of a spat the other night over me, but the problem is I haven’t talked to oliver since last saturday. He doesn’t even reach out. So like bro, what you hollerin about. I can tell that Oliver is super suspicious though. His intuition is incredibly strong and he knows something is up. I feel bad but at the same time I’m like “dude you’re fucking up”. Like it would at least help his case if he reached out but he won’t. And I know that. And I guess I’m going to be okay with it because I need to get over him. Zach is a fucking genius and strategic af so he used the situation to his advantage to be like dude, all bets are off with any of your past girls. If I want to hook up with Rachel, I will. So that way if we ever ran into him out, Oliver couldn’t say anything. Meanwhile, I’m over here just basking in my Miami glory. Living a life of spice with a side of drama.

That’s all until next time. Don’t get into too much trouble this Labor Day. XxR.