life in the slippery lane: why hookers are better for you Five or six years ago my life took one of those turns, file under “you can’t make this stuff up”, when I took a deep breath and dove into the pay for sex pool. Now, I completely appreciate that a large number of guys will think of this as a cop out, or too gross, or too risky, just plain not done, or some horrific fall from grace in the eyes of God, their superego, community standards, things their friends and parents would freak out about if they knew, voluntary virgins would weep and pray for you…
There was the other side of the street to consider, however, as many of our more seasoned posters have spoken of, the weird triangles you unexpectedly find yourself in, emotional blackmail (I’ve known a few women who must have gotten advanced degrees in this specialty), all the confusions of “true feelings”, whatever the heck they are, and pure slathering reproductive DNA spewing instincts, or mostly the damned stupidity of spending untold amounts of money trying to be noticed, dating scenes, clubs that are so loud and the patrons are so drunk you can’t think a complete sentence to yourself, more untold amounts of misused time, girls who play the preggo game to lock you in (happens all the time and nobody talks about this one, no media comes clean about the guys who find themselves drafted into fatherhood and all their protective, responsible instincts get triggered… ooops must have forget a pill or ten when I was about to ovulate !)
Yeah, I had been the responsible guy, the good guy and I had been played like a schmuck for my charitable attitude. Midlife crisis ? Fuck the midlife crisis. I was going to consciously regress part of my life back to my teen years and totally blow off the identity that society had glued to me.
Smartest thing I ever did. Researched the escort websites, followed the discussions until I felt I had a grounding in how the game was played, and then… bada bada baaaa, trembling with insecurity made the phone call to an, ummmm… gentleman’s establishment that caters to the mid priced bracket that my lifestyle permits. Lucked out, this place was sane, well managed, and some of the girls were among the coolest people I’ve gotten to know.
Many, many preconceptions about this activity went sailing out the window, say, like when you actually get to know people of different ethnicity and you see how much you thought you knew about them were absurd preconceptions…
About the same time I was finding out about pheromones as products one could purchase and use, instead of laboratory items that never made it to the public.
Not surprisingly, the availability of decent to mind boggling sex depending on the factors of the evening, without needing to blow one or more futile nights trying to score, minus the liver stress of the drinking, the staying up too late, the ludicrous stupidity of charming some questionable babe home to my place, or home to her place, or the pathetic dating scene… nope, freeedom from all that, one or two hours of superior physical jammin, clean bed with fresh sheets, shower if you need it, with a stunning woman half my age that I would have about 1:1000 chance of hooking up with in a public joint, some nice conversation, nice massage after the high point of the evening, home again, long soak in the tub as this is an aerobic activity par excellance, and sound asleep by midnight…
Following this line of reasoning so far ? Yes, it costs money, quality costs money, you get nuttin for nuttin, but when you calculate the real, summarised costs of cruising for nookie, it’s cheaper and way less stressful…
Now, take the above and add pheromones. Big, juicy large doses of pheromones, lotsa androstenone, lotsa androstenol, have no shame, the night is yours, and finish it with a good spray of classy cologne, consider it an investment.
What then, Mr. Wizard ??? What happens when you add sex madness pheromones to an already combustible mix ???
Well, Grasshopper, sometimes not much. Some women don’t respond strongly, it is maybe a touch friendlier, a touch more communicative…Other times… wellllll, other times its like detonating nitroglycerine and you know whats coming when they give you The Look, nope, it isn’t DIHL, it’s more like, dude you are about to be swallowed whole… in more than one sense of the word…
Where does that leave us ? The crucial thing in my experience is that there is almost no background sexual pressure with “civilians”, as non-pros are known in the trade. It becomes greatly easier to sort out what is the emotional and intellectual side of a relationship, and what is the physical drive. Sex with pros can still have warmth, emotional communication, and dare I say it, meaning. No more do I wonder what this one or that one of my civilian friendships, business relations, casual contacts might be like as a sexual partner… ooooh baby, what’s she like naked ? Don’t much care, don’t much need to reflect on it, sure won’t be mindlessly chasing it… if the hornies are creeping up, the solution, a reliable no hassle, no deep where do we go from here conversation thing, what you see is what you get experience is a phone call away.
That can be massively liberating. If somebody’s wife wants to play footsie with me or flash me her thingie, yep, been there and seen that, most of us old pharts have once or twice, I can say, yeah, that’s cute, flattered that you care so much for me, but I’m not your man-ho to play your mind games with sweety, and if I feel a residual stirring in my loins, a shave, shower, a quick mone OD and a spritz of cologne, and I’m good for a week.
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I’m fifty, more or less. When I was 20-25 sex just happened, 25-30 things got a touch more strategic as women get to thinking long term, guys are still in short term mode, 30-35 everybody is expected to turn into a serious citizen, 35-40 you’re laying the foundations of cardio vascular disease due to overwork keeping up with everybody else, piling on the debt, 40-45 you’re either the boss or you’re the employee and that’s how it’s going to stay and all the crazy shit you did from 20-25 is catching up with you bigtime. Your face turns as beautiful or ugly as the stuff in your soul. Nobody gives a damn about your charm unless you work as a maitre’d, they care about your competence. The collective genius or idiocy of a lifetime gains karmic momentum. What you sewed you now reap, bigtime my friend. That’s about when I looked around and saw that there was an emergency eject button, and just for grins I pushed it.
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more to life than sex !!! Nowwwww Waaayyyyy !!! Look hard at the multitude of relations around you, commodified connections are everywhere. I see untold numbers of marriages that have a strong commodity factor going. People talk about wife as “a man’s property”, seriously, today… is a man then “a woman’s property” too ? What’s with this chattel value ?
Here’s an ever stranger twist to consider, where out friend beta-androstenol came into play. At one point in my unconventional love life, there was a stunning young hooker, er.. escort, european girl, so intelligent, naturally cultivated, speaks many languages fluently, I was mad for her, and of course used huge doses of pheros to make our time together more meaningful… we were connecting on a deep personal level although neither one of us could make out what was happening nor could we, should we, trust our immediate responses.
There was this otherworldly ease of communication, finding ourselves completing the other’s thought, I’m asking myself, this is supposed to be a bimbo escort ? She’s half my age and she makes me look dumb ?
We gradually became true friends, travelled to excellent places, because of her unusual linguistic ability we could go just about anywhere. She’s know who the architect was that built a modern structure in a foreign city, she liked opera, she was, and is, a first rate writer who could easily work for any magazine as a correspondent, so go figure. Stunning girl, outrageous breat implants, it didn’t add up. Who cared ? Our communication had its up and downs like it always does, I would prefer they stay on the upside as when she was on her game she was the most brilliant communicator I ever met, when she’d go internal and contend with her demons she wasn’t as available… demons being the needful things that demons are…
To contend withthis issue I made up a strong batch of beta-androstenol + Athena (yes, Athena is good stuff, it works, no it isn’t just DHEA, yes I’ve tested it extensively in groups and with individuals) + extra androstadienone + pure ambergris (not Sigma Aldrich fake ambergris) and some Creed Himalaya… the ambergris really adds a dimension to it that I can’t explain… and every day I’d put a little on my face and neck… she’s get a whiff and her eyes would light up, she get this mischeveous grin and get light and playful, like her cares would drop away, we’d have these moments, really deep, personal, like ESP between us, she was totally a friend, more like a sister than a lover, it was the most powerful vibe, people around us would feel it, in public places, in restaurants, I was thinking… under the right circumstances, this technology can be so powerful, so life changing..
and to this day she does not know about it…
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Did she still make you pay for sex? No, no way.. like I said, she became like a sister… she is a friend, a good friend, better than many friends I’ve had… she loves to do things, never known another person who can cover as much ground, I’d turn my back and she’d be picking up Euskedi (basque language) if she had half a chance, then take me up to a basque place… it was funny, there was no confusion, we change roles, threw out the costumes, reveled in being human beings, went shopping at Corte Ingles and filled the apartment up with strange euro food, went to the theatre, got drunk and acted ridiculous… lived, man, lived.
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there are benefits of great value like, my blood pressure hovers around 115/75 that is excellent for a fifty year old guy without resorting to b.p. meds that make you semi impotent. There are types who are incapable of emotional growth that find themselves stuck in a money-sex rut, these guys are stuck in other forms of life quicksand too, with other people the experience can be a potent emotional growth accelerator as you meet people with life stories that are wildly different, some good, some bad, some incredibly interesting. Knowing the ropes is a must. It’s possible to have awful encounters with freakish, disturbed types too, this has soured many men who never knew about the quality side of it. I’ve been mentally and emotionally places I never would have, nor could have, gone in my legitimate day to day socially approved life. With the right use of -mones it’s putting a growth accelerator on an experience that is already a growth accelerator. Your perception of yourself, women, life, what it’s all about can be shot into orbit. If you have a strong prejudgment, say, a fixed idea of “whore” you may be limiting greatly the amount of understanding you can gain.
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what happens when you open 2 or more cans of worms life bumps along… you learn a few tricks about emotional survival. Unexpected things began to happen when I turned 45 or thereabouts… young things found me magnetically attractive after a decade of tune out. Must be a father figure, protector, font of wisdom archetype that young women feel a buzz for. When you arrange parts of yourself just so, say you’ve studied subjects like vocal production on the side that might give you a subtly hypnotic voice without thinking about it, you have learned how to dress, hold yourself, how to restrain your more idiotic impulses, and perhaps there’s a -mone residue on your clothing or skin, it can be too easy, the sweet thing looks at you and shes ga-ga-ga…
Older women too, unhappy in their marriages, not cut out for the dating scene, feeling the midlife testosterone surge…
Looking at the easily available pleasures, and the considering the consequences of offering up a heap of promise to someone who may be wading in deeper than they will admit, or allowing fantasies and idealized ideas to run out of control,
it was infinitely better, more ethical, certainly fairer to women whom I had no intention of taking advantage of, to (for now, and as long as circumstances are this way) keep my erotic life strictly seperated from the rest of my social life.
Nobody get hurt this way. I don’t use women for sex by suggesting that there’s more if there isn’t more, I don’t beat myself up for using women, I don’t feel the need to play flirty games to reassure myself that I am still desirable, there is no pressure to get all needy and manipulative, there doesn’t have to be an undercurrent of whatever. This strategy keeps matters clean, fair, and all the cards on the table.
That isn’t to say that you choose a life without feeling. Au contraire, deeper, more genuine, and less contaminated feeling is possible when the inherently selfish power of sexual drive is reduced to the level of a nuance. There’s an absolutely gorgeous married woman in my building, we have a tremendous rapport, there is a lot of feeling that passes between us, she, however is married into a family system that would cause untold problems if she were to change it around at this point, and I have no desire to look back at myself in five years and think, “so you’re the guy who tore all that down for a little nookie”, and she knows my libido is firmly managed, she doesn’t know where, how, or with who, but she senses I know where the important boundaries are and I’m not going to mess with them. This seems to free her to show me sides of herself she might not if she thought I’d take it as an invitation to go after her.
Should the right girl come along, she’s have to be one hell of a sharp cookie, I would stop my activities, wait the necessary time, have the full battery of STD tests, ones I regularly have anyway, and I would re-enter the civilian world of romantic love and stay on the civi side of the fence as long as the relationship was viable.
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Unfortunately, we are railroaded into much life crap social pressure is amazingly effective at making you do things you would not otherwise do. Even social pressure to have lots of sex. The hardest thing is to know yourself well and live in a way that truly fits who you are. Most people don’t do that. They’re afraid of judgement or rejection.
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not that Family Values America doesn’t have its share of hypocrisy many of the padruga’s gentleman aquaintances were high level guys, respected family men, corporate executives, pillars of the community types, ministers… many of them rich, ambitious, powerful who had married to advance their ambitions, gain more power, make more money by being attached to dynamic, materialistic, social climbing women. There weren’t any innocents in this game. They had willingly traded peace of mind, the chance to be oneself when one pleased, not having to keep the facades up at all times for their shot at the big time. These are not men who can afford the reputation as womanizers or be seen hitting the trashy clubs. That’s where talented women like her come in. Absolutely discreet, not too flashy or obvious, punctual, businesslike, and as many men described it, capable of giving them the experience of their first great lay in high school. They got to be 17 and carefree for an hour or two, then return to their schedules, their church, their proper wives, the country club, good reasonable republican suburbs and expensive educations… all the while they are tormented with visions of dancing sluts, natives pounding on log drums, eunechs bearing hookahs filled with afghan hasish, the girls locker room, Miss January running her perfectly lacquered finernails down their backs… it should come as little surprise that her #1 city for business was Washington DC.
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Good Gawd… they take showers ! Sure, there are nasty, funky no self respect skank ho types which we carefully avoid. The better ones are near clean freaks, they shower, they soap down. I think there are a whole passel of stereotypes that are mixed up in the public imagination. In practice there are substantial differences. A good place will have a stack of freshly laundered towels, fresh sheets, a clean bathroom, listerine mouthwash, pump hand sanitizer. Experienced travellers will always have their own listerine mouthwash and sanitizer to wipe down with after the festivities. It comes in cute little bottles. The most important skill you need to develop to play this game is how to suss out the level of the situation in a blink. A place that shows lack of care for hygeine, is disorderly, reeks of cigarette smoke, people are rude or demanding, or people that seem druggy, emotionally off base, too hyper or too dazed, spot that quick and bail out. I have been in situations where I’ve paid up, then things turned weird, I would walk out without looking back, forget the money, not worth the grief. After a while you know the ropes, you read the discussion boards, you know what’s clean and what isn’t.
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I’m not sure if that’s the right bigger question I can’t speak for every participant. I don’t do sex tourism. If the vibe isn’t right, I don’t participate. The only women I’ll deal with are doing this out of choice. I’ve never been in a place that had any sense of traffic in women. I have been known plenty of women who are single mothers who are trying to pay down their credit card debt. The credit card industry can now charge rates of interest that were once regarded as usurious, and illegal. Only the mob once charged interest rates like that. Now it’s the way things are. These women do what they feel is in their best economic interest. They also enjoy the sex. Motherhood doesn’t stop the sexual drive, it seems. The great irony here is that the place where the wiseguys have got their hooks in is the pornography industry, especially the material that is generated in Eastern Europe and Russia… Somehow, porno is on its way to being legitimate entertainment, merging with the soft porn T+A numbers that girl musical acts now emulate, all of this pioneered by our buddies in Las Vegas, which has made the great leap from Myer Lansky laundering millions from his mexican heroin operations through the casinos to the “new” sexy Vegas, like the ad says “what happens in vegas, stays in vegas”… indeed. BTW, the Vegas scene has a pretty bad reputation, qualitywise. Well, anyway, the big money is in the distribution of sex fantasies. The Devil, as always, is in the details. There are places, if you know how to find them, low key, off the radar, decent people, adult women, not teenyboppers, free will sex between consenting free agents, no slaves. Mob guys have always preferred running the strip clubs, its more their style, easier to manage, makes a freaking ton of money, fewer law enforcement hassles, more of less the genesis of the whole Las Vegas Experience, does it bother your conscience that every nickel that goes into a slot machine in Las Vegas, Reno, etc… is feeding a monster mob based system that has slowly morphed into legitimate, eeeeech… entertainment ?
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What’s love got to do with it ? This just in from ABC news according to them:
"Cheating on your spouse is always immoral, sometimes illegal, and if that doesn’t matter, a wide range of Web sites are ready to help you play around.
Are you married and looking for a one-night stand? Need a soul mate to fill the void that’s been growing since your wedding day? Even if you just need an alibi to explain where you were last night, there are companies especially designed for the married-but-looking clientele.
The ease of the Internet is one reason women are quickly catching up to men in the arena of extramarital nookie, according to Newsweek. Nowadays, an estimated 30 percent to 40 percent of wives are unfaithful, compared to 50 percent of husbands, therapists told the news magazine.
To show how fast the world is changing, only 10 percent of married women admitted to infidelity in 1991, according to a poll by the National Opinion Research Center at the University of Chicago. Ten years later, that number jumped to 15 percent for women, while the level of unfaithful men stayed a constant 22 percent."
