.
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How To Survive A Zombie Apocalypse, According To A Zombie Survivalist – Mandatory
Watch This Hypnotic Video of Instababe Abigail Ratchford Getting Her Butt Toned – Maxim
15+ Freckled People Who’ll Hypnotize You With Their Unique Beauty – Linkiest
HIV-positive man in Malawi was hired for “cleansing sex” with more than 100 young women and underage girls – Newser
Black Friday chaos at a Memphis mall leaves a man fighting for his life – Rare
Controversy surrounds the world’s sexiest weather woman and her famous assets – Faves
Reasons the Pokemon Universe Is Actually Really Disturbing – Ranker
Gun Sales To Blacks And Minorities Quadruple After Donald Trump Wins Election – Bossip
The Best Burgers From Each of the 50 States – First We Feast
Christie Brinkley and Daughter Sailor Took a Beach Selfie – G-Celeb
A damn fine collection of bewbs, awesomeness and everything in between – Leenks
28 Girls in Black for the Blackest Friday of the Year – Regretful Morning
The Best Black Friday Fights Ever – Gunaxin
Busty and petite make the perfect combo (28 Photos) – Bad Sentinel
Hottest Sofia Vergara Pics of All Time (20 Photos) – Classy Bro
Here’s how much millennials are earning annually across the US – Business Insider
Lady Getting Squished To Death By Shopping Carts On Black Friday – Barstool Sports
Hot blonde showing off her beautiful side profile – Ehowa
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The Victoria’s Secret Angels’ Plane Ride to Paris Was the Sexiest Flight Ever – Maxim
History changes once you know these overlooked details – Leenks
Great Scifi Movies You May Have Missed in 2016 – Imgur
Lindsey Pelas’s Boobs Live On Snapchat – Hollywood Tuna
Watch what happens when this blind baby goat slips on a duck costume – Rare
Brooklyn Decker wears a bikini like no one else – Faves
China’s Sperm Seems to Be Getting Worse – Newser
The 29 Most Awful Disney Incidents and Deaths – Ranker
Colin Kaepernick’s “Support” Of Fidel Castro Is Really Pissing People Off – Bossip
How Fidel Castro Survived ‘638 Death Plots’ – BBC
People Donated $100K to Dig a Meaningless Hole – Mandatory
Bras are Optional and Life is Good! (39 Photos) – Radass
Mariah Carey Shopping Braless in Hawaii – G-Celeb
15 Best Tianna Gregory Booty Pics – Classy Bro
50 of The Best Butts You’re Bound To Bookmark – Regretful Morning
Top Ten NCAA Football Teams of the Past Fifty Years – Gunaxin
There’s a Rose McGowan Sex Tape That Leaked – The Blemish
Smoking hot bikini girl shows off dat booty! – Ehowa
Did Someone Say They Love Lingerie? – Bro My God
I Didn’t Know Figure Skating Could Be Offensive Until I Saw A Holocaust Themed Routine – Barstool Sports
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The Haka is a traditional war cry, dance, or challenge from the Māori people of New Zealand. It is a posture dance performed by a group, with vigorous movements and stamping of the feet with rhythmically shouted accompaniment.
War haka were originally performed by warriors before a battle, proclaiming their strength and prowess in order to intimidate the opposition, but haka are also performed for various reasons: for welcoming distinguished guests, or to acknowledge great achievements, occasions or funerals, and kapa haka performance groups are very common in schools.
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If they ask which company, tell them it’s none of their business. Many people looking for homes to rob will come to your door asking about security systems. It gives them a chance to case the home and look for weaknesses like if you don’t have a dog or if the house is homed by women or the elderly
Furthermore, document the encounter to the best of your ability. This is not the time you want to shoo someone away immiediately. Be comfortable being uncomfortable and without escalating the situation, ask as many questions as you can. Who are you with (even if they lie, they likely have told that lie before), contact numbers, etc. Did they come in a vehicle? Take the plates down, make, model, any damage to the vehicle. Which direction did they go in, did they talk to any neighbors.
Purchased a 2004 outback for $3900 in excellent condition (ha, so I thought) only to find out the head gasket is leaking, as well as the O2 sensor and catalytic converter are fucked up. I basically have to buy a new car with the very little money I have and I probably won’t get a penny for my own car unless I lie just like the asshole who sold me the car did to me.
Having been to a lot of corporations, it became apparent to me early on in my career that HR is more about protecting the corporation, and mitigating the risks of lawsuits as apposed to protecting the interests of the employee.
In leaked Target/Walmart videos that attempted to paint labor unions as horrible, they used phrases like “open door policy” (referring to an employee being able to discuss anything with a manager/employer, which would be removed if big bad labor unions got in the way), or “we are a family.”
In no uncertain terms should you view your employer as family. In most cases you are an expense, and it really is a race to the bottom; how little can they do for you in return for you working for them and generating revenue/value.
A Job/Career is simply an agreement between what you think your value is, and what the corporation feels you are worth as an expense. The more confident you are in yourself, and the more you look for other opportunities, the better off you will be.
Working extra hours above 40 hours a week, if you are salaried anyway, is something we all do/did, and its only when you are older and wiser that you realize that extra time is not worth the extra 1% bump in your salary. Shopping around for other companies can and do bump you 5-20% depending on role/responsibilities. Doing so constantly is the best way to maximize your income in the long run.
Without being too specific, even the smallest things in life can stirr up you’r mind having a hard time letting go or forget sometimes. The faster you learn to not care, the better you’r days will be.
This way they physically cannot turn around and accidentally point a loaded gun at you. Chances are they will try turn around to ask you a question if you’re teaching them, and many times they don’t think about the gun in their hands. Plus you can better see what they’re doing and coach them appropriately.
If the asshole that’s looking for free food sees you ate some of it they’ll spare your food. This only works for sandwiches.
Many arguments occur after 6pm, when we are hungry, tired, or both, and this can cloud our judgement and make us more irritable.
If you and your SO start arguing when you’re getting ready for bed — just go to sleep. You’re tired, they’re tired, and you need to continue this conversation when you’re both in a better state of mind.
If it is an important call, and personal information is required, tell them that you will call their service back after googling their proper phone number; don’t call them back on a number that they give you.
Even if it’s a legitimate call, it’s better to be safe.
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1. I’m an actively working girl. My first time was only about a month ago. It was through a website where you make offers to pay a girl to go on a date with you. They had to be very clear that it was’t a prostitution website (you compensate for time it said, many many times) but sex was fairly well implied.
My first time was with a 43 year old married man in town on business. He had contacted me about a week prior, through the website, offering $80 for a date. he said he would give me $2000/month for regular sex if we liked each other. I said yes, and he told me which hotel to meet him at and when. He also told me what to wear.
I arrived and he wasn’t too bad looking–slender and way more tan than you normally see as far north as I am. He bought me a drink first at the hotel bar and we talked for a bit. I was unbelievably nervous, but he was fairly reassuring. I was sure everyone knew what I was there for, and I was terrified of anyone calling me out.
Eventually he suggested we head up to his room, and I gave the meekest “okay” that has ever passed my lips. We went up and sat on the bed and chatted a bit more before he kissed me. after a couple seconds he pulled back and said “i like the way you do that. Let’s take off your clothes, and see what else you do well.” I got naked and gave him a blow job. I was’t really expecting him to finish that way, but he did.
After that he laid back on the bed and indicated I should join him so we snuggled and talked for a bit more.
Eventually he told me that he thought I was funny and sweet and “too good at that” and that he didn’t want to see me again in case he formed an emotional attachment. He said he just wanted sex, he didn’t want to mess things up with his wife. I said that was fine and we talked some more.
Eventually I started putting my clothes on. I was waiting for him to give me some money, but he was’t making any moves in that direction, so I sat and talked with him a little longer. Eventually I reminded him that we had agreed on $80 for the date, and he acted all surprised. then he made a show of looking for his wallet and then counted out each bill and dropped it on the bed as he did. I took it and left, not accepting his offer to call me a cab.
I felt pretty gross. My later experiences were better.
2. My first job was a private client, and I was totally calm on my way there and during, it wasn’t until I got into a cab to go home that I started crying. I wasn’t even upset, It was just involuntary.
A month later I joined an agency my first night they gave me this guy who became my first regular, always booked half an hour and I never stayed longer than 10. The other job of the night was in an office in an old industrial estate, two very married man and another escort. She was really nice and reassuring and helped me get over the initial embarrassment. The rest of the night was just sitting in the car with my driver talking about WW2 and listening to Frank Sinatra.
Most of the time I even had fun! But I still always got butterflies on the drive there. I think it was the anticipation of not knowing who the guy was, they could he sincerely nice or they could be a complete jerk.
3. I was an independent escort for 4 years. My first night, I was ridiculously nervous. I went to an upscale hotel, nervously walked thru the lobby, hoping I looked like I belonged there, and not like what I was really there for. I was nervous the whole elevator ride up to his room. I walk to his room, lightly knock on the door. He opens the door, says (for the story’s sake, we will use the name Sarah) “Hi, Sarah?” and like an idiot I reply with my real name. We laughed it off. It was quick, 10 minutes. He was polite and clean. In the area for business. I ended up seeing him a few more times over the years, always very nice. Tipped on top of the hourly rate, which was always appreciated and made me choose to see him over other clients in the future. I have dozens of other stories if anyone is interested in hearing!
4. I’m a straight male escort and my first day of work was definitely not what I expected. I had (female) friends in the industry so I already knew what a normal job would be like. It’s the same regardless of gender.
In a typical booking, you meet, chat for a bit, sort out business, ask the client to shower then get down to business. For me, that generally includes a massage, foreplay, sex and a fair bit of conversation.
For my first booking, I received an email from a girl that basically went as follows:
“Hi, I’d like to book you as a birthday present for my friends 24th surprise party.”
No worries, I can do that…
I turned up early to help these girls prepare the surprise and they’re all insanely attractive. Out-of-my-league attractive. The girl who booked me then drops this bombshell on me:
“Oh, by the way, all of us girls are either escorts or strippers.”
Uh oh, I’m in way over my head…
I do my best to remain calm and collected and we all enjoy ourselves before the birthday girl shows up. They all turn out to be lovely girls and we all had a fun night. No actual sex but there were a few shenanigans that went on.
At the end of the day it was a definite “thrown in the deep end” experience but one I’ll never forget.
5. This sounds awful, but I was so desperate for money that I posted on Craigslist. Obviously that was stupid and dangerous, but I was 17 and I didn’t think about it. I basically asked people to bid to see who I would go with. Keep in mind this was a suburb in the midwestern US, so the money wasn’t crazy. I ended up driving 45 minutes to meet a guy who then drove me to his house. Again, so stupid. I can’t believe I didn’t die that night. This dude was like 50, heavy cigarette smoker, smelled like booze. I told him I was 19. (So stupid.)
The guy paid me $60/hr for three hours. He smoked a few bowls, talked about jazz, and then very creepily went on and on about my boobs. I jerked him for like 30 minutes with this horrible rose-scented lotion, blew him, and eventually we had sex. I was impressed he could get it up with how high he was and figured he must be on something else. That’s mostly what I was thinking about the whole time.
I didn’t feel it when he came because I was too concerned trying to give a good performance. So awkward, but he didn’t seem to notice. When I got off him there was no condom on his dick and I freaked until I realized it was still inside me.
We “hung out” for a little while (read: he slept and I tried not to puke) and then he took me back to my car, filled up my tank and gave me $300. All in all, not a horrible first experience, but also not wonderful. He’s called me a few times, but I never went back.
6. I started working because I’d gotten a few propositions through a dating website. I was studying med at the time and I was short on money. So one time, this guy made me what seemed like a lucrative offer and I agreed.
I didn’t know how any of it worked, so I told a friend I was going out and to call or text me in an hour’s time. We initially met in a park at night, sat in his very, very nice car, had a bit of a flirty chat, then made an appointment. He said he was 58 years old, but I think he was about 15-20 years older than that.
A week or two later, I drove over to his apartment. I was petrified, but I needed the money so I rang the doorbell. It was a lovely apartment, and he paid upfront. He was nice enough. He asked me to do some things that I didn’t want to do, so I said, “Maybe not this time.” Kept an eye on the time (via the helpful clock radio next to the bed) and thankfully he finished on time. Had a shower, bit of a chat afterwards, and then he kissed me goodbye on the cheek.
I think the fact that I said no to rimming annoyed him a little, but he texted later and asked if I would like to do a threesome with another working girl. Things proceeded from there.
7. I drank a heap of wine before I went to the agency. This was about 2.5 years ago when the industry was booming. I did booking after booking and went home with a massive wad of cash. I didn’t think about it too much. I just loved the rush of being booked and making so much money. The industry is dead over here now and I have no idea why.
8.
Yes I was nervous, but it wasn’t really awkward. I had two clients that day.
I can’t even explain the feeling of my heart in my throat on the way to my first job. I thought my heart was going to burst out of my chest. But it ended up very well.
The first guy was really nice. Mid 30’s, extremely average looking. It was somewhat… boring. We started out with small talk, he offered me a bowl, which I refused. He smoked a little and then eventually kissed me. He had a bit of an ass fetish, I let him eat my asshole and lightly spank me, and then I let him put it in my ass- I figured that it was my first client, I should do a good job. I still see him from time to time, and he always tips very well. Along with the occasional gift of art or books.
And the second guy didn’t even try to have sex with me, he wanted me to smoke a cigarette while watching him masturbate. That’s about it. He paid me for an hour without question and I never saw him again.
I still escort from time to time. It’s great money and a lot of the time, it’s just lonely older men. My agency is very safe, my clients don’t have my personal number (unless I give it to them) and they make me check in with them before I go in and again when I’m done.) Don’t get me wrong, I get some strange requests, but for the most part it’s just sex. I love sex, it hasn’t discouraged me in any way shape or form.
9. My first time professionally was with an awkward Indian engineering student who paid me $500 to drive out to his apartment and do a two hour session with him.
Oh my gosh, I was so incredibly nervous the whole way, didn’t really know what I was doing, but once I got there, I pretty much went with the flow, chatted him up, started playing with him, and we had really epic conversation and he’s still responsible for one of my top ten orgasms (perfect little 4″ curved penis, hit my g spot with every thrust). Fucked twice, I gave him a blowjob while he was on the phone talking with people he was working with. I’m fairly certain he thoroughly enjoyed himself.
Immediately afterwards, on the drive back, I was just so utterly dumbfounded that I got paid that much to fuck a guy that was theoretically dating material if he had the time to date. It was tremendously encouraging, and I have those sorts of experiences with wonderful men (usually around thirty years my senior) sufficiently often that I’m not going to quit escorting until I age out.
10. When I was 18 I was tight on cash and decided, fuck it. I need a sugar daddy. I went on craigslist and found a guy. He wanted to meet me first and needed a new girl to replace his old one, he was willing to pay 4 figures per date. I drove to meet him and was stuck in traffic on the way for an hour or two. I sat at a Starbucks for a while waiting, he got lost because he was only there on a business trip. I was shaking by the time he came. We got burgers and drinks and sat at a table waiting for everything, talking. He was sweet but not my type, I was so nervous and shaking. We got to his hotel and sat and talked and ate, then started getting frisky. He would not stop talking about how amazing I looked and was and I know he was trying to flatter me but after a while it got really old. I stayed the night and left in the morning. He gave me money for gas. I later told him I’m sorry but the age difference felt too weird and he would have to find another girl, but really I just couldn’t stand him.
Then I found this married guy. We talked, I sent him pictures of myself and he was hooked. He ordered things off of Amazon for me to bring (we’re talking bondage/anal stuff) Anal was on the list of “necessities” to him. I was an anal virgin and reaaallly hesitant about it. I told him I wanted to be blindfolded for the thrill of it, but really, I just didn’t want to see his face. Drove an hour to a motel in his town to see him. The way everyone looked at me, I knew they knew what I was there for. I knocked on the door, it opened. I stepped inside where the lights were off, kept my eyes to the ground. He came up to me and started stroking my arms, my face. He instructed me to put the blindfold on and I did.
I hated it. I hated every minute of it. I lost my anal virginity to him and it was painful and I cried. I could feel his fat slapping against my stomach, he kissed me with his bushy beard tickling my face and I fucking hated it, I wanted to vomit. He gave me the $400 and I left. I cried all the way home.
He was nuts about me, wanted to take me on trips and buy me an apartment in his town and all that. I agreed to meet him again, but no anal and no kissing. I told him it felt weird to kiss him when he had a wife (I know, what a fucking lame excuse but what was I supposed to say, “you disgust me”?).
The second time he was coked out and had a hard time keeping it up. I had to awkwardly console him while he beat himself up over it, and suck his flaccid dick several times. We laid together for a while and we had a bit of “sex” (without a full boner it’s pretty much a fail). Once he gave up on the whole thing and admitted defeat, I packed everything up and sat at the edge of the bed. He brought my money and placed it in my hands, and told me to look at him. I was still wearing the blindfold and I shook my head. He took it off of me and told me to look at him. He was wearing a bandana that covered most of his face except his eyes. He had lovely eyes, and it made me want to cry when I thought of his wife.
This dude was convinced that I wasn’t in it for the money. I had a sick mind, I had a dirty side, and only he could fulfill it. I didn’t bother correcting him because I didn’t want to kill the self esteem he was building for himself.
I told him I couldn’t do it anymore. He messaged me a few times over the next year but I kept telling him no, no matter what price he gave me.
I regret both encounters to this day and nobody knows about it.
11. When I was 18 I was looking for a sugar daddy when the CMO of a very well known company (he didn’t tell me this, I screened him and the reverse image search brought heaps of Forbes articles on him) offered me $1000 for the hour if I came to his hotel room. I hadn’t considered transactional sex for money before but I was interested with the price so I showed up, got my money in about three minutes and went home with an uncontrollably large smile on my face.
I wasn’t nervous and I didn’t feel guilty but then again I’ve never been sexually repressed and did plenty of research beforehand. The only awkward part of the night was when he finished rather quickly and then, I’m assuming from embarrassment, threw the cash at the door and asked me to leave.
I’ve been doing it ever since (15 months now) and it’s been such a positive experience I’ve begun seriously considering taking a sabbatical from university and pursuing sex work full time.
12. Just after high school, my girlfriend got a job as an escort. It was back when pagers were cool, for reference. I dropped her off at work on her first night. The place was in a strip mall, just a little spot that looked like a half-empty travel agency or insurance shop. It was out-calls only, so you basically wouldn’t know it was an escort service. I hung out in town, because she said she’d page me if she needed me to come get her.
She paged me pretty quick. I picked her up and we drove to a McDonalds and got coffee. She was a wreck. She said that she told them she was going on a break, but that she wanted me to take her home. She wasn’t even going back to get paid.
She went on an out-call, to a guy’s house. They had bouncer-like guys to drive the girls places, and so a guy drove her to some guy’s house and waited outside in the car. The customer obviously wanted to have sex, and she was totally blindsided by this. I honestly don’t think she knew that she was a sex worker. She thought she was going to be a “go out on the town for a date” kind of escort. She even wore one of her nicest dresses.
Long story short, she ended up just watching the guy masturbate before fleeing the place and getting driven back to the office. Then I picked her up and she never went back. The thing I remember most clearly was when she was describing it to me. She was disillusioned, incredulous. “There were pictures of his wife on the walls! Pictures of his family!”
13. 2003, I am an exceptionally naive 22 year old with six figure debt from a failed marriage and a baby to support on my own. A year before I had been approached by a friend of my sister who offered me a job as an escort. A had no idea what an escort did but the offer of $150 an hour remained in my mind and I called the guy when I reached as low as I was willing to go. I thought escorts danced or masturbated, I wasn’t even a good dancer. I have no idea what I was thinking.
Looking back, my first appointment was a disaster. John was exceptionally patient but I was so anxious. We had a drink, smoked a bowl, and he offered me some coke. Never have done coke before, I hoped it would help my nerves and obliged myself to his offer. That obviously didn’t work. Another hour of chatter and he asked me what I could do, sensing I wasn’t exactly on firm footing with the current endeavor. I had brought a bag of lingerie and offered to model it for him. Somehow this was sufficient for him and the drive home later was to this day one of the most fun drives I have ever had.
Of all the things in life I am thankful for, few rate higher than my dislike of coke. Instead of getting sucked into all that, I got myself out of debt, bought a house and went back to school. Graduated two weeks ago debt free with one of the most sought after degrees from a prestigious school. I have been working independently since 2005 and currently work one $1500 session a week (all my clients I have had more than five years). It has been a lifestyle that has served me well, I have met amazing people and had unforgettable experiences that would otherwise been impossible. Retiring is one of the harder things I have to do but in three months I hang up my heels and am walking away.
I still see John, of course I fuck him now. It only took about four appointments and a huge blow up with a client with more realistic expectations for his $250 an hour to figure out what I was supposed to be doing, then I learned how to do it really well. I have spent a third of my life as a prostitute but I have a beautiful home with big diploma on the wall, happy kid, multiple vehicles in my garage, and the world an open possibility. I am a very lucky lady.
14. No longer an escort (only saw a few clients and decided I’d rather make money the normal way) but here’s my first experience. Signed up to an escort & cam girl site, my partner couldn’t accompany me to the meet so I got my gay best friend to drive me. It was in a Travelodge (classy!) And I was super nervous. I’d asked him if there was anything in particular he wanted me to wear, and he had said he wanted me in casual clothes and no make up. Of course, guys don’t really have a clue what girls look like without a stitch of makeup on so I put on foundation, blush and mascara and a cute sundress.
The guy was around 50 (I was twenty at the time) and he mainly wanted to make out and cuddle. For some reason he had covered himself in talcum powder which was odd, and he wasn’t attractive which made it hard for me to get aroused but he seemed very happy. The thing that weirded me out a little was he kept talking about how young I was and asked me for my real name several times (I had a fake name for obvious reasons). I was reluctant to give him my real name and instead just gave him another fake name – I told him my real name was Elizabeth but my friends called me Lizzie and he called me Lizzie for the remainder of the appointment – then had the cheek to try and haggle me down for an extra hour which I declined.
Afterwards, when I was 300 quid richer for an hour of “work”, I felt strangely empowered.
15. I was 22, just graduated with a BA in a major that would make me no money. Moved in with my parents and was on a downward spiral.
I posted on Craigslist ($400 an hour, I had no clue about rates and still don’t but from this thread it seems high) and met a man the next night at his house for an agreed-upon 30 minutes. We sat on the couch and talked a little bit. He ran a small business, divorced, overweight, 40s. Really ordinary and quite nice, actually.
He took me into the bedroom and there were lit candles and a bottle of lube on the nightstand. I wouldn’t kiss him for awhile, but he seemed lonely I guess? I eventually did. (Stupid, probably.) He put a condom on and I blew him for awhile, but he didn’t stay hard consistently. I climbed on and rode him and he didn’t come by the time the 30 minutes were up. I liked him, so I kept going until he finished — maybe another 20 minutes? I didn’t charge him for the extra. I didn’t enjoy it as much as I would with a regular partner, but it wasn’t bad. After we finished he thanked me and we hugged. He suggested that next time he make a spaghetti dinner and we could eat and get to know each other.
It wasn’t as bad as I had expected, and I wasn’t traumatized, but I never did it again. I’m not sure why. He texted me several times after and eventually I told him I’d moved.
16. It all happened over Thanksgiving break my freshman year (college). I had heard a website for sugar baby a/daddy’s and decided to try it out. After weeding through all of the messages I got, I found a guy that was actually attractive and had chemistry with. So we decide to meet up at his place.
The drive over I almost turned around 5 times, I was so nervous. I know on his door and he looks mostly like his pics, just a little older and shorter than I was led to believe haha. Its both of our first times so we have no idea what to do. We sit on the couch, talk and put on a movie.
Afterwards we go to the bedroom and fool around and do everything but sex (I was too nervous). It was great and I spent the night. He ended up paying for my rent ($670) and a new phone ($500). All-in-all, he was a super nice guy but ended up getting too attached :/ I’ve continued to be a sugar baby and make awesome money from it with the added bonus of only sleeping with guys that I’m attracted to 
17. I was 35. I’m fit, tall, long brown hair and eyes that shift from blue to green, in good shape from bicycling. I have a Ph.D. in linguistics and a master’s in literature, and I’m male.
I was “in-between employment” and talking in a philosophy-oriented discussion forum on the Internet with some friends I had made there. I had discussed, at length, the importance of Jung’s notion of the Shadow in proto-Indo-European myth cycles, and was privately messaged by a woman who had not taken part in the discussion, but had followed it with interest.
She is a practicing Freudian psychoanalyst, in a large American city, and we discussed the tensions between Freud’s and Jung’s approaches, and the nature of the Shadow and integration. We began discussing sexual proclivities, then of course it turned to our own, we shared several compatibilities, and she confessed that she wanted to explore some kinky fantasies she had, and wondered if I would write her some erotic fiction on a number of themes. I agreed, and she enjoyed them immensely.
We talked more in-depth over the course of a month, had chatsex, swapped pictures, and so forth. A month after we first talked, she offered to fly me to her, put me up in a hotel for two weeks, and pay me a sum of money to act out her fantasies with her.
I considered it. She insisted on it being a business arrangement, so that she wouldn’t “catch feelings” (in not such exact terms) and because of the rather intense nature of her fantasies – “buying a sex slave” was part of them. I finally agreed.
Two weeks of the utter legal limits of debauchery (aside from the fact of the exchange of money for companionship and services) ensued. Sex while reciting poetry, sex while drunk, sex in public, sex at a private party with an audience, domination, submission, role-play, on the roof of a high-rise in a thunderstorm half-expecting to die of a lightning strike. Waking up tired, sore, bruised, and mildly dehydrated was the norm. I tied her up, suspended her in a web of ropes, and thrummed them with a cello bow until she orgasmed from the sensation and the verbal accompaniment. She placed a rather vicious dog’s choke collar on me, chained me, and proceeded to entice and humiliate and tease me for hours – until I was slavering and manic to ravish her, and only then she tugged open the knot securing me from acting on my impulses. Far darker things we did.
Over time, we met for sex a few more instances – but we inevitably had developed feelings for each other, and so discontinued the business end of the arrangement. I had used the money to start a business, and gave her back every penny she had given me, and we agreed that we’d finally consider it an interest-free loan. Some of what I wrote for her and that we wrote together has since been published under a pen name, with a little commercial success.
She considers me her last hurrah – she went through menopause shortly after our last sexual visit together, and now doesn’t have the same sexual drive.
I have never involved money in a sexual relationship before or since, and honestly, none of the other relationships I’ve had compare in intensity or raw honesty with the experience we spent together. We stripped each other’s souls bare and bleeding, and know one another more intimately than anyone else knows us.
18. This was only a few months ago. I haven’t made the best decisions in life. I was still 18 at the time and I moved out on my own. I started having a hard time making rent so I started posting ads and going on “dating” sites.
I got a lot of attention and started to talk to a lot of men but never actually went through any of it. That was until a month later or so and I got desperate and finally accepted an offer from one guy I had been talking to for a while. He was in his 40s, from another town, and offered me $900 for the night.
When the night came along, he booked a hotel, and I went over there some time that evening. I was so nervous, I could barely speak a word when I got there. He was an average looking guy. I wasn’t attracted to him but it didn’t cross my mind that it mattered. I was still about to have sex with someone I technically just met, and for money. He ended up offering drinks (yes, I know how stupid this was now that I think about it) and I got drunk enough eventually to relax a lot more. Once I was relaxed, he started kissing me, we eventually got naked, performed oral. We had sex twice and he got off in less than two minutes each time. Which was a really good thing because he was bigger than I expected too. After that, we just went to sleep and I left in the morning. yes, i stayed over night which was probably another dumb thing to do but oh well.
I guess it ended up being better than I expected but maybe I was just luckier than some girls here that he wasn’t too creepy or gross. Since then I’ve only done this twice more but not with him.
19. When I was 20 I used to troll around on Grindr for guys, and one day this guy messages me to hook up. He seemed to be the older type and I was interested so we met at a Starbucks to see if we liked each other. He turned out to be a fairly fit man in his late 40’s that was still quite handsome.
We chatted each other up and he was really nervous, and admitted it was his first time. We eventually went out to dinner and went back to my place where we had sex. I was letting him sleep over but he suddenly had urgent business at 3am in the morning so he left. When I woke up I found that he had left 300 dollars on my desk.
Honestly at first I wasn’t happy because I’m not a whore and I didn’t need the money but I figured what the hell and got over it. He texts me a week later and wants to get back with me and I wasn’t dating anyone at the time so I agreed.
We did the same thing where we went to see a movie instead and went back to my place where instead of having sex he just wanted to cuddle me and talk about his job. So I sat through 3 hours of him bitching about his life before he had to go and again I found 300 dollars in my desk.
This continued for a good 4-5 weeks of the same thing where we didn’t have sex and he just wanted to cuddle me and talk, and where afterwards he left me money. I found out he was the directing manager or whatever of a company and he had a wife and kids and didn’t want them to know so he’d say he was out drinking with his friends.
One week he stopped texting me and I didn’t bother texting him so that was that. I think he was a closeted guy that just wanted male contact and it was quite sad but just one of those things
20. At 20, I was on AFF when I was offered 2,000 dollars for two hours of my time and a few snaps with his cock inside me. He was a 65 year old man. The sex was pretty good for being twenty, and I got off on the notion that he was paying to fuck me. Honestly, holding the money in my hand afterwards turned me on much that I masturbated the second I got home with the envelope in my hand.
I did escorting for three years before an ex ruined my reputation. I loved it. Sure, some guys were dicks, but I was making anywhere from 250-400 for like twenty minutes of work. Now, I can talk to just about anyone without reservation.
21. I’m a former escort. My first day was easy because I started off as a dancer. I used to work bachelor type parties. The guys would ask for more. Eventually I just agreed to more. My cousin and her friend did parties like “reverse bachelor parties.” Basically a guy getting divorced so like 2-4 of his buddies would hire us to go out and dance. Almost always in a private residence. I would say like 90 percent of the parties the men were over 45. So we would go and dance and hang out. Then at the end either my cousin or her friend would go with the “bachelor” into a bedroom.
When I first went along it was because my cousin got sick and she asked me to go with her friend. She explained I would have to just go, flirt, sit on a few laps. I could dress as sexy as I wanted. So I did that. I wore shorts and a tank top. I looked cute but didn’t really fit the look. I turned out to have fun.
I ended up topless and basically got paid to sit around, joke and flirt with a bunch of men. I really love attention so worked out well. We were there like 2 hours and I got $150. After that they used me as a substitute more often or if the group was larger. I got a bit more crazy with my outfits.
When you’re in that environment it’s fun. People were laughing, drinking. Passed around joints (etc.) it was just fun. My outfits got more daring and I started to REALLY enjoy the feeling I got. I sat on a ton of laps and basically would feel boners. I would laugh and joke. Men treat you differently. The same man who would be embarrassed if you caught him looking at your tits at the super market had no problems looking when you are there to party. After a few months (7-8)of doing this I felt like the next step was no biggie. I would get like 120-160 for just hanging out but the girl who went with the bachelor for more.
When I would go to parties the other girl would just tell the guys right away that she would be the girl for the bachelor. After I felt ready, we gave the option. I’m smaller/petite. My cousin was curvier with booty and boobs. Her friend is curvy too but Asian. The first time I got picked I pretty much just gave him a naked lap dance and stuff progressed. Afterwards I felt super sexy and empowered. I would do like 1 or 2 parties a month. Who ever got picked would go in the bedroom. The other girl would just hang out and flirt. We would also give out info for 1 on 1 meetings.
I never had to use websites or walk the street. That lead to more traditional meetings. I never had any creeps. Every guy I met was a guy I had laughed and joked with before so made it easier. We all normally played safe but I let a few regulars do different stuff. Anal or unprotected. I am a sexual person so I tended to have fun. I didn’t orgasm Every time but I did a lot.
Many of the men I met with 1-on-1 were married over 45. The only down side for me was making an appointment a few days in advance and just not being into it the night of the meeting. Since many were married they would plan a night when their wife was busy or whatever. Some nights I wasn’t into it and had to fake it. Boo hoo right? I did like 1 or 2 parties a month and met 1-3 guys for 1 on 1 meetings a month. It wasn’t full time, I just did it to supplement my income.
I made around an extra 1200 a month. It was fun. I stopped around a year ago because I met a guy in my “normal” life. We dated a while and I got serious. By then I also got a better “normal job” and was making a lot better than minimum wage. After I quit I still met a few of my regulars for a bit. I love my bf and my current life but occasionally I still miss the old life. The excitement. My bf treats me well. Tells me I’m beautiful. But not the same as the other men looked at me.
22. This is from the other end of things. I’m in my early ’50’s, fairly wealthy, and I hire a specific escort 1-2 times a month to play my girlfriend at social/business events. I do it for one very specific reason: to see the mixture of jealousy/hatred in the eyes of my associates when I walk in with her on my arm. Since I’m not interested in cultivating an actual relationship with someone less than half my age, I find this to be an excellent way to really piss off the people (both men and women) I socialize/do business with, without looking like I’m actively trying to piss them off. Petty, I know, but sweetly satisfying nevertheless. All the men want to bang her, and all of the women want to kill her in some gruesome fashion, especially the older ones.
We’ve never had sex. Although I was practically insatiable when I was younger, these days the only reliable of way of doing the deed requires the assistance of little blue pills, and I find I’m just not terribly interested anymore. It still surprises me at times, but I have to say I’m considerably more clear-headed now than I was even ten years ago. A fair trade-off, all in all.
For those who’re wondering, the girl looks somewhat like a taller, much more physically fit Inara from Firefly. She’s a med student (many escorts are college girls who’re in need of cash, according to her), works for an agency, and I pay $500 for her time, plus extra if there’s sex (negotiated outside of the agency). We don’t have sex but I pay her an additional $500 anyway to make it worth her while, more if we go out of town. She plays the role of devoted girlfriend very well and seems to enjoy the effect she has at the gatherings I take her to almost as much as I do.
The fact that she’s not only beautiful but highly intelligent just makes the folks at these events hate me all the more.
If things end early we’ll sometimes go back to my place and watch bad horror movies, which we both love. We do our own Mystery Science Theater routine, shouting at the screen (e.g., “don’t go down into the basement!”) and throwing popcorn at the idiots getting hacked up by the killer clown or whatever. It’s a kick.
She doesn’t talk about her other clients, but from what I gather I’m the only one she doesn’t do something sexual with. I gather I’m sort of a “paid night off” deal, where she gets to play a role while circulating with the rich and sometimes famous without having to get sweaty at the end of it.
I have to say, I’ve had more fun with this girl, an escort, than most of my ex’s. It’ll be a sad day for me when she becomes an MD and moves out of escort work. I’ll be happy for her, of course, but I’ll miss the stir we cause when we go out together.
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Top 100 Of The Most Influential Photos Of All Time – Leenks
When Your $2.5 Million Pagani’s Cockpit Isn’t Good Enough, Call Hermes – Maxim
Sex Technology That Freaks Us Out – Mandatory
Girl’s Skirt Flies Right Off While Riding Her Bike – Faves
Leah Remini says that Scientology’s biggest star tried to get her to stop a “60 Minutes” report – Rare
Trump Wants Flag Burners to Lose Citizenship – Newser
The true story of Nintendo’s most wanted game – ESPN
The Best Places to Meet Women – Ranker
Illuminati Files: Tila Tequila Explains Kanye West Being Hospitalized [Video] – Bossip
Joanna Krupa Does The Stupid Mannequin Challenge Nude – Hollywood Tuna
Woman Shocked After Realizing Her $700 Hairless Sphynx Cat Is Actually A Regular Cat That Was Shaved – Bored Panda
Charlotte McKinney Was at the Beach – G-Celeb
I’ve Always Been A Sucker For Girls With Dimples (32 Photos) – Radass
The 25 Worst Sports Stadium Names in America – Gunaxin
Freshen up the day with some hot underboob (27 Photos) – Bad Sentinel
The Sexiest Micro Bikini Twins in Australia – Classy Bro
Ewan Gordon McGregor ‘Obi-Wan Kenobi’ To Return in Star Wars: Episode VIII – Showbiz Spy
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Allias Aguilar, only 15 years old, gets challenged by a 20 year old (so called street fighter) who walked into the gym looking for a fight
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You have a primal, almost irresistible urge to procreate. That biological urge, when mixed with your testosterone, is intended to motivate you to jump out of bed in the morning ready to fight and fcuk your way through the herd, leaving vanquished foes and satiated hoes in your wake. Unfortunately, our advanced brains and opposable thumbs over time have discovered an almost perfect and flawless cheat: Masturbation. After all, it’s so much easier, so much less of a hassle, to simply cut all the corners, skip through the level, and polish that platinum trophy really fast until the end credits roll.
Here’s where this wonderful thing we’re discovering called NoFap comes in: You, being the horny, over-sexed, perverted woman crazy fiend that you are, have a choice in how you get off.: Your hand or a vagina. You may feel like only one of those choices is viable, but that’s merely because it’s the EASY choice, so it appears to be the preferred one. Guess what: If you actually stop jerking off, and I mean STOP – eliminate it as a possibilty from your life (as I and many others have) – your sex starved brain and testicles will literally lead you out into the world and between the legs of a female. It just HAPPENS. Try it, you numbskull. You’ll see that I speak the truth.
“But….but…. Chinesegangster, that’s easy for you to say but I have bad acne, back hair, a harelip, and my breath smells like a circus chimp’s used diaper!”
Fine. Lower your standards and look again. The only reason your standards are so irrationally high in the first place is because of that damn computer screen you’ve been sitting in front of half your life. Hint: now that you’re no longer wasting your life in your comfy jerk-off chair, you will have plenty of time to apply Clearasil, shave your ape nape, and brush your teeth. NO MATTER WHO YOU ARE, THERE ARE REAL WOMEN OUT THERE WHO WILL HAVE SEX WITH YOU. They’re just waiting for you to poke your head into their personal space and say “Hello beautiful. You look bored. Can I help you with that?” Don’t believe me? Go to the Manga section at Barnes and Noble right now. There are three (3) nerdy girls on the floor at this very moment feeling lonely and unattractive, faces pressed into some crappy Japanese rape comic, dreaming of the day that someone like you comes along and says those exact words.
Stop mentally objecting to the wisdom of what I’m saying and automatically trying to make yourself the exception to this absolute rule. You’re not different, you’re not unique, and you’re not a hopeless case. You’re a MAN, and mother nature wants your penis to hang out inside wet vaginas. PORRN HAS BEEN COCKBLOCKING YOU FROM YOURSELF. SNAP OUT OF IT! Stop jerking off, and sex will happen to you. You will do it for yourself on an unconscious and biological level and you will literally marvel as it’s happening. And it will be FUN. Trust me, meeting and flirting with young women may be effort, but it sure as hell isn’t work.
I’m speaking undeniable truth here. This place has changed my life for the better, and I’m just like YOU.
– Chinesegangster
You will miss important life occasions
Birthdays; Public Holidays; Occasional Weddings; Parties; Christenings; Weekends.
Its unrealistic in this industry to assume that you’ll ever have these off. The rest of the world plays whilst you toil, weekends are almost a taboo – and this will generally eliminate most parties and birthdays as the rest of the world will want to do this onTheirweekends. it is possibly the biggest killer of potential chef careers. It can be a very lonesome and frustrating life to those who aren’t willing to make the sacrifice. Regularly I will forgo a friend’s birthday even though I had booked the time off 4 months prior to that occasion (to whom I still have to apologise to regularly) In most industries you can “pick up the workload” on another day if you are unable to work. a kitchen however is more delicate. they have exactly the right amount of staffone person missing can halt the entire functionality of a restaurant. which brings me to my next point.
There is no such thing as sick
If you are not on life support, then you are fine. Cut your finger off? put a band-aid on…or better yet cauterise it on the stove both fast and effective. you have the flu? no you don’t it’s a cold, and even if it were the flu – put a mask on and get your arse to work. In my career, closely drawing a decade now, I’ve had two sick days: both times I was in hospital. If your feet can carry you, you can work…and you will work, nay not even from obligation, but from an odd combination of fear, guilt and compassion. Fear that your family will fail without you, fear that you will return having let them down.
introduction into alcoholism and drug abuse will be very high
It’s no secret that this industry is rife with illicit substances and drunks. We are already sourced from the fringes of society, people who often fit in nowhere else. Some use recreational drugs, some use hard drugs and are completely addicted. Often you will find a waitress or chef racking up lines on a pizza tray at the end of the day before heading out to a night club, looking for escapism. Addiction is high (pardon the pun) among all people in our industry, and your ability to cope, stay away from, or fall into it – is completely up to the individual. You will see some of the highlights of human injustice, and bear witness to (and possibly be a part of) a plethora, and cocktail of drug (ranging from weed to smack) and alcohol abuse.
Relationships will be difficult
Unless your partner is understanding you will have a string of unfortunate relationships. Another common misconception when someone goes into a relationship with a chef is that we will cook for you constantly. Though we are passionate about food, generally we will be working when you want to be fed. I’m one of the only chefs in my circle of peers who still cooks “properly” at home on a regular basis; most survive on a diet composed of instant meals, take out and dregs of half eaten chip packets. One must not fail to mention that most chefs are courteous and sociable on seldom occasions generally, and they are worse post a shift; only further propelling this relationship over the proverbial waterfall..this babies going over!! Bail overboard whilst you still can!! Time however is probably the biggest killer of relationships in our industry. It is difficult for most (not all, there’s still hope kiddies) to be with someone who is consistently never there, someone who (it seems) is more dedicated to his or her profession than the potential love of his/her life. Time will always be an instigator of hardships when it comes to chefs. which progresses to the next point:
Your hours are fucked
though many people will regularly complain about an 8 hour day (inclusive of 2 to 3 breaks) or even god forbid a 10 hour day, you will savor the rare occasion you get an 8 hour shift with no break whatsoever. The average shift for a chef is around the 12 hour mark (according to a recent census) though I personally and quite regularly work more. You will stand on your feet all day, sweat, and toil. Your entire working career will be an endurance marathon for both your body and mind. cuts, burrs, burns they are all part of the process.
You’re a piece of shit
or at least the majority of your superiors will inform you of this. Where as in the real world verbal bullying is now room for a class action lawsuit, in our domain it is second nature. “You fucking little shit, what is wrong with you?” could roughly translate as “wow, you have made quite a mistake young sir, I’m amazed at how you’ve made such an error” or perhaps “what’s wrong mate? too busy thinking about sucking dicks on your days off to do your fucking job” could easily be interpreted as “excuse me, is something the matter? you seem to have lost concentration and I can see it’s affecting your work”. On occasion it gets multi-lingual “which fuckwit touched my fucking Mise en? are you fucking retarded” which of course means “someone seems to have rifled through my preparation as it is now disorganised, and now I’m in disarray.” Not to mention a lot of this toiling will be for a very minimal pay until you eventually secure a respectable position. Also unlike the majority of things in this modern-day and age you are never “given” anything in this industry – because contrary to the ribbon you get for participating in a school running carnival (coming 4th last) you, like everyone else, start at the very bottom. you must earn it, you must climb the hierarchy slowly and arduously. No rewards are given for “trying” either you do your job, or you don’t.. and get fired -simple. Peeling 100kg of potato, picking 1kg of individual thyme leaves (don’t you dare cheat and just strip the stalks, I will throw that shit back in your face) these are all jobs that will challenge your very essence to overcome the sheer boredom, inanity and pain of it, as all of the chefs before you have done. But this is the process, you will start learning, you will always be learning.
– zaneheemi
When I first came to prison back in 2001, I knew that I would be entering a treacherous environment. Instinctively, I felt the Darwinistic importance of staying in shape in order to survive. I was actually looking forward to ‘hitting the weight pile’ and ‘driving iron’ in order to put on some muscular size. However, when I finally made it to the yard, I learned that the California Department of Corrections had removed all of the weights in 1998. Administration claims this was due to the potential of them being used as weapons. Personally, I think it was because California’s ‘tough on crime’ policy had almost doubled the size of the prison population. The end result being more and more muscle-bound felons being released back into society. Whatever the reason, guys in prison could no longer get as big, except for the dedicated few who used their creative ingenuity to achieve muscular size and definition.
Every yard I’ve been on has workout bars where men can do a variety of exercises like push-ups, pull-ups, dips, and leg-lifts. To add weight to their routines, I’ve seen guys use each other’s body weight to add resistance to their workouts. Push-ups are done with someone leaning against your back and squats can be done with somebody sitting on your shoulders. I’ve also seen guys fill pillowcases with sand to use as dumb bells. In the cell, trash bags are filled with water and placed inside a bucket with a handle for shoulder shrugs and lateral raises. My favorite method is stacking forty to fifty National Geographic magazines and tying them up in a laundry bag for bicep curls and tricep extensions.
This question actually gave me the courage to ask one of the more muscular guys on the yard, ‘Curly Joe’, how he still managed to stay so buff. Here’s the inside scoop. Curly told me the secret is lots of reps with shorter a smaller range of motion. He explained, “You got to pump those muscles up like a balloon until they feel like their going to explode.” I told him it sounded somewhat painful. He just laughed and went to do another set. I’ve always been more of a tennis/running kind of guy anyway, so if I can ‘tout-muscle, at least I’ll be able to out run them.
Christopher Schuhmacher, inmate San Quentin State Prison
– Jon Mixon
I went to prison in 1982 and was released Feb 2009. To say the world I stepped into was a shock, it was a total shock. I felt everyone could tell I was a convict. I could feel the stares, going into stores you see people watching you. In prison you develop a sense where you are always aware of what’s going on around you. Your gaurd is always up.
I noticed people would cut the line in front of me and not think nothing of it, people would talk shit and if I checked them somehow I became the bad guy.
Society has made it so hard to get a job, with all them background checks, can’t rent, fill out a app for a job, list your last 3 employers and why you left. So you get creative on your answers, I put down I worked for the state. Get pulled over, cops whole demeanor changes when he runs your name. Some people don’t like you just because you doing better then them, and it’s my fault your stupid.
You scare people for no reason, trust issues all around. There’s no way I can make others feel the way they feel it’s them. Everything can be cool then they find out you were in prison that long. Some ask questions, some shun you, some don’t change its no factor to them, but once word gets out your judged by people you don’t even know haven’t even meet them. You hear it through friends, some will even say something when they hear another talking shit about you.
All in all out here is way way better then in prison, I’ve been out now for 7 and a half years, I’ve seen stuff that would get you killed on the inside. Out here people snitch, call cops, and not think twice of what there doing. I still hate pigs and always will. For I see them as bad as convicts on shit they do. When a pig sees another pig violate another person’s rights, harass him, beat him and don’t do something to stop the offending pig to me he’s just as dirty. When the pigs got shot up and everyone spoke how bad that was, what came to my mind was shoe just went to the other foot. But society don’t get to worked up when a pig kills one of us.
Prison made me into the person I am. Product of my environment. I can function well and do out here,but that underlinine factor of prison will never go away no matter what I do. No credit history,own a house but can’t barrow a dollar, no medical history, no job history, learn to use smart phone and computer. So much is differant, it’s a system set up for my failure that what society has created . But I won’t fail and I won’t become one of them.
– John Wussler
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18 Movies You Thought Were Stupid That Are Secretly Brilliant Satires – Ranker
Medical Ecstasy May Be Legal as Soon as 2021 – Maxim
A damn fine collection of bewbs, awesomeness and everything in between – Leenks
Apple’s ‘spaceship’ campus looks like a futuristic, solar-powered fortress in new drone video – Mashable
These ladies sound like they’re in the midst of passion, but they’re popping a gross cyst – Faves
6 ways to hack your holiday bills – Rare
10 Highest-Paid Musicians in the World – Newser
Bella Thorne Works The Sweat Good – Hollywood Tuna
What 100 Americans Have To Say About Their Jobs – The Atlantic
This 18-Year-Old Is Selling Off Her Virginity To Save Her Parents From Getting Evicted – Mandatory
The Victoria’s Secret Show Is Coming – G-Celeb
Darren Sharper Sentenced To 20 Years For Rapes – Bossip
28 Pics of Girls Tugging Their Clothes Off – Regretful Morning
Watch This Heartbreaking Acura NSX Crash – Classy Bro
Just the right amount of booty – Ehowa
How to Hide $400 Million – NY Times
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