Hi Ya'll,
What a difference a year makes right? I mean this time last year, pretty much to the day I was in the middle of the Las Vegas holiday of a lifetime and boy is the holiday-blues strong with this one. Never have I ever wanted to go on holiday or go back to a time as with my all american dream holiday - Even if I did argue with Miss Tweedle-Dee and Miss Tweedle-Dumb.
Booking our holiday in January this year, my Tweedles and I are thoroughly looking forward to sunning ourselves on the beaches of Lanzarote and sipping cocktails by the pool. But it just seems so far away! Even the wedding Mr. Warehouse and I are attending in Newquay in Cornwall isn't until a week before my girls holibobs! With the years passing quicker than ever before I think myself and my friends have been severely bitten by the travel bug. Not going to lie - Slightly envious of Miss Tweedle-Dumb and her trips, city-breaks and holidays to Portugal and Paris all planned, I can feel myself turning into a little brat yelling in my head whilst having a tantrum every time someone mentions when they're going on their travels. The green-eyed monster is a-lurking, just what am I going to do!
Scouring the holiday websites, desperate for some last minute cheap deal, a budget flight or even an offer on a train ticket, I will take whatever I can get so I can make the most of the upcoming Easter bank holiday. But everything is so expensive. And whilst on the one hand I need to pay for my driving lessons and save for a car, a little part of me will always be in search for my next arrival destination! I need more money! I need a pay-rise! I suppose I could work my second part-time job, but the hours aren't that great and its sucky walking home in the cold and dark, even if it is starting to get a little lighter each night.
"Maybe I should whore myself out?!" I jokingly said to a male work colleague today in the canteen.
"Yeah you should become one of those phone sex girls, talking dirty and stuff on the phone like you do to some of the customers?!" He replied.
Slightly taken aback I had always thought about it, ever since my teenage years and even more-so after I separated from Mr. Workaholic and my late-night phone-calls with Mr. Woof started. I recall watching a programme on Channel 4, of all places, called "My Phone Sex Secrets" which opened my mind to the world of possibilities and just how much money can be made from pretending to be filthy, when in actual fact you have your feet up watching Corrie and sipping on tea in your Tigger onesie.
On looking further into this it seems as though you could make a right little side earner from it, portraying yourself as a strong dominant female who demands you to beg for mercy or a sweet, innocent little something that bright eyed and bushy-tailed straight out of college, and everything in between. Whilst on the one hand I think about some of the kinds of people that call these Phone Sex chat-lines and wonder if their wives of bosses knew of their naughty affairs over the Dog and Bone that cost them upwards of a pound a minute, there is not much that would not make me blush. For example, I do not personally see the appeal of Water Sports, however this is not to say that I would not, or should I say, have not, told someone to drink their own excretions and on occasions even demanded them too, all in the knowledge that whilst I certainly don't get off on them doing it to themselves, a little part of me does enjoy overpowering others.
Domination has been something of interest for me since I was a teenager, with rough play and borderline BDSM being a sticking point in many if not all of my previous relationships. It thrills me to think that I can have control over someone, just as much sometimes - if not more, that they can have over me. When E. L. James hit the big time with the trilogy of clit-flicks Fifty Shade of Grey, Fifty Shades Darker and Fifty Shades Freed, I was hooked from the moment Miss Tweedle-Dee introduced me to Christian and his Red Room of Pain! Since then however, some idiot decided to turn the whole thing into a shoddily thrown together movie of the first book whereby we learnt that the cast hate each other, the director and the author hate each other and my fanny has just swallowed itself for how shockingly poor that film was. Anyway that was Media Student me popping out to say hello, One minute whilst I beat her back into her fluffy-handcuffs.
Now where was I? Ahh, yes - Odd arousals! Now you would think that for a women wanting to make a extra bit of cash on the side I would have thought about eBay and other bidding websites. Yes, whilst you can purchase most things from me including Sleepover kits, clothing and make-up, most popular of all seems to be footwear - most of which I have not worn in a while, if ever at all. A shoe enthusiast through and through, and with a growing collection of Sandals, Stilettos and Slip-on's; I would be mad to keep them all when I only have one pair of feet! Strangely though, I have more men buy my foot-houses than women. Peculiar as that may sound, foot fetish is still something of a taboo subject and whilst I have no qualms about foot and/or shoe fetishes, it is not something I find myself able to relate to. But if your willing to pay the price, I don't think there is much I would not sell - Well worn shoes, used brassieres and my silky, sensual tones. Just don't forget the P&P!
'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx
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