Hey, Friends! Lemme tell you about something new, I just recently heard. I know. I definitely owe ya’ll an apology for my extended absences of late. And, you absolutely deserve one. I’m very sorry.
But, first, in my defense, most of you have probably seen me since my last post here. I’ve been working my azz off. Actually, if you’ve seen me lately, then you know, firsthand, how much azz has actually been working around here. Oh, yeah. You get my drift.
I wanna discuss something new. New to me, at least. A phrase quite commonly used in escort terminology that I’ve never even heard before. An abbreviation to better describe a fella’s experience with an escort.
Okay, this dashingly handsome older gent and I were exchanging pleasantries as he dressed to leave, and he begins speaking of why he had wanted to cum see me so badly. A friend of his had just visited with me recently, and had wonderful things to say about our encounter. Sure. He found me attractive, but, mostly, he was attracted to the fact that I didn’t seem to have an IOP.
I was dumbfounded! What is this IOP, and where can I find it? I need some immediately, if I’m the only one without!
He stopped me before I could even ask. It seems you really don’t want an IOP. You see… IOP stands for Imitation Of Passion. WTF??
IMITATION OF PASSION?? Is this even a phrase, people? Why would someone, who’s considering a small tryst with an escort, be concerned about an imitation, of any kind? I mean, seriously. Don’t you fellas get enough Imitation Of Passion at home? Oops, sorry. Just sayin…
Okay. So, the consensus among the fellas send to be that providers are just imitating the real thing. Imitating passion. Imitating lust. IMITATING ORGASMS! You gotta be fuckin kidding me! I mean, why would ANYONE turn down gettin off?? It’s absolute insanity to me.
Like there’s not enough things for y’all to have to think about, plan, and consider before you cum see us. Let’s please add some bullshit on top of all that. So, sad. So very, very sad.
Why would someone even choose this type of job if they were planning on just fakin it with every sexual encounter? Seriously. I mean, do you work at McDonald’s if you don’t like burgers? Well, okay. Some people actually HAVE TO work there, but they certainly wouldn’t if they actually had a choice. The smell of burgers alone would make them sick. Doesn’t the smell of fallaciousness make you just wanna vomit?
I know, I certainly wouldn’t go see anyone with an IOP. Not if I was a man. Not, even, if I was a woman. Not if she’s faking it, there’s no way I would see her. If she’s just gonna fake everything, then I, DEFINITELY, don’t wanna see her. I don’t wanna have anything to do with her. Because, the truth is, she doesn’t truly wanna be with me.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I’ve certainly faked it, myself. But, I was young. I was foolish. Fuck! You got me! There was this guy, just recently… But you don’t understand! There was absolutely NO chemistry AT ALL. Of course, he protested, describing his NEED in great detail. Against my gut and better judgement, I participated in one of the most awkward and forced experiences EVER. (Quite an accomplishment, really.) But, hey, he’s the only one in many, many years.
Now that you are aware of what IOP stands for, you’d probably presume that having an IOP is a bad thing. Ah, but you would be wrong. Actually, fellas are expecting IOP. So, the less of it you have, the better. If you’ve been attempting to mimic true passion during sex, it’s been noticed. Of course, it’s been noticed.
I don’t ever wanna be associated with this IOP shit. I enjoy my amazing sex. I like sucking and fuckin and just flowing with the chemistry. Sometimes, that’s NOT fuckin and sucking, but something even more sensual and subdued. Each experience is especially unique in it’s own way.
They do have one thing in common, though. They are always genuine. Well… except for that one guy. (I’m telling you, there was just no fuckin chemistry, friends!)
Finally. The bitchin you’ve all cum to expect. Fellas, this one is for you. Listen, you have got to quit cummin over here with the goal of making me squirt more than anyone before ever has. It’s just not fair. For so many reasons, it’s not fair.
The main reason being, of course, it is actually harmful to my health. A lot of you don’t know, but I’ve had kidney failure a few times before. Three to be exact. I cannot, ABSOLUTELY CANNOT, expel that much fluid from my body, and still find the time and energy to put it all back in before seeing someone else. Lately, I’ve been very dehydrated. I’ve been tired. I’ve been weak. I can’t seem to function as well as I used to.
Well, I can tell you what’s changed. For the past year, I’ve been on a site that describes my sexual escapades in vivid detail. Now, a large majority of my new friends are cummin at me with the loftiest of goals that, unfortunately, cannot ALWAYS be attained.
Look, I love sex. I love to orgasm. I, DEFINITELY, love to squirt. But ya’ll aren’t truly attracted to me just because of that. You like me because I’m genuine. I don’t fake it, and, you know, I certainly don’t bullshit about anything. I’ve never made you assume that I was someone that I was not.
I AM a freak. And, freaks just love to see other freaks get off. We love to get other freaks off, ourselves. We love to get off with you. Sometimes, we even love to be the star attraction. But, certainly, NOT EVERY TIME. So, take me off that pedestal, and start fuckin me like you want to.
What I mean is, if you want a shower show, then let it be a natural thing. Don’t force it. Never force a date. Don’t ever pre-plan a date. Okay, I know you’re going to fantasize about us in advance, but don’t pre-plan the details. If you’d like me to wear something special, I will. But, beyond that, you really should have no expectations. As I, also, have left all my expectations behind.
We cum together, AS IS. Of course, I’ll be the one all dolled up and sexy. But, nothing else truly different about either of us. I just wanna meet YOU, because YOU are the one I wanna fuck. With every new encounter, our conversation will reveal your hidden desires, so that we may, then, incorporate them into future play, for maximum stimulation EVERY TIME we meet.
You know, ya’ll really don’t give me the credit that I deserve in this area. When it comes to sex, I’m usually right on the mark. Shit. I’ve loved it for 38 years now, so my knowledge on it is quite vast. I also, intuitively, seem to glean what direction to take things in. Your body tells me. When you moan. Especially when you don’t moan. When you wiggle or jerk. When your eyes flutter, or you start to lick your lips. I can tell. Oh, I can definitely tell. So, don’t worry, sweetheart. I got this. Take all that pressure off your shoulders. Hey. We’re making memories here. Loosen up a little bit. This is going to be fun
Oh, and, for you, ladies. Cum on. Y’all know I can’t leave ya’ll out. Even if you hate me, who cares? You still need to hear this. So, LISTEN UP..
Why would an escort have an IOP? No. I’m thinking, maybe, you should ask yourself that question. You liked sex before. Right? You must have when you first started, or you wouldn’t have made it this long in the business. So… what happened? Where did it go?
I do a lot of things that help keep me in ‘the mood’. I’ve done far more to discourage myself in times that I’m unable to get OUT of ‘the mood’. We’ll just stick to the first for ya’ll. The later doesn’t seem to be a problem I share with too many others.
I like to listen to music that I find sexy. Right now, it’s just about any kind of song with a beat strong and hard enough to cause my azz to move. I definitely enjoy moving it, that’s for sure. No matter what type of music you enjoy, you should listen to it more often. Loosens up your soul to listen to music. Lightens your heart, also. I mean, what could it hurt? Just try it. Preferably, before a date, would be nice. Sexy music is going to make you feel sexy. It has that unique quality to it. I don’t know how but… JUST TRY IT..
Sorry, but that’s the only tip I have for ya’ll today. Can’t give up all my secrets. But, think about your ‘friends’ (you know what I mean) as people. Not as dollar signs. Or bills. Or bucks. And, certainly, not bands. They’re people. They’re men. Most of them broken down from many years of being turned away. They might not feel quite as sexy as they once were. They come to you in need of affection, attention, and compassion. Oh, and, of course, sex. But, notice, sex was not the first thing that I listed.
You might not believe it, but, when you turn them away for ridiculous reasons (i.e. what he looks like), essentially, you are telling him that he’s not good enough for you. He’s not good enough for her. He’s not good enough for anyone. He’s just not GOOD ENOUGH.
Now, if that IS what you’re trying to say… Fuck you. You really shouldn’t be here. One day, someone will see beyond your tits and ass to the callousness of your soul. Then… you’ll just fade away.
Perhaps you didn’t realize how paramount your position truly is for your new friend. It may look like sex, but it’s so much more. It’s a relationship, of sorts. One, where, greater intimacy can only be created through trust. Without trust, there can never be TRUE intimacy. No one trusts a liar.
Fellas, I say this, knowing full well, that I might not always have the time to accommodate each and every one of you. However, if you’re seeing a provider that does not show you, in every which way, that she is happy to see you, that she wants you there, that she cares about your experience… Just get rid of her. You’ve been wasting your money on someone that is, essentially, just bringing you down. No one deserves that. No one.
Now, look. I’m running a little late on what I have to do today because I spent too much time talking to y’all. It’s been very busy around here, as of late. I’m happy to report, the relationship between my 16 year old daughter and I has greatly improved. But, visits take time. My son is away and is always beggin for letters from his mama. So, there’s that. Oh, and of course, my precious documentaries… But, there just isn’t enough time. So, another day.
Until then, maybe IOP should stand for Idiots Of Pensacola. However, it wasn’t a local man who gave me this info. He was definitely from outta town. So, it might not catch on here in Pensacola. But, I think you get the drift. Oh, cum on. You KNOW you get the drift. You ALWAYS get MY drift.
Thank goodness, or I might just sail, right on, away.
Yeah, right! Fuck off, haters. Freaks Rule Here!! Whoop! Whoop!