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As we’ve already learned, there’s quite a lot of rich history and such involved in the naming of a stripper. Surely no girl can just get on stage and call herself Cherry Forever, she needs to sit down and hammer out the perfect name to capture her essence, or at least what her essence looks like when it’s spread eagle on a slightly greasy stage while AC/DC plays in the background. 
Sadly, not every stripper out there takes the time to really craft the perfect name that’s a mix of intrigue, sensuality and hardcore sluttyness which is key if they want to develop a good following and get plenty of tips. The following, in no particular order, is a list of stripper names alleged to be 100% true and belonging to some women, somewhere, who disrobe for dough. In fairness I only can confirm three of these are real, live stripper names. The rest, alas, we must take on faith that no man would lie about such serious business. 
Velocity – A name that doesn’t so much belong on a stripper as a Transformer. The only time anything mathematical need apply to stripping is when, if necessary, one needs to calculate boob circumference. 
Areola – Admittedly, this name does sound vaguely feminine, but it’s also a fuckin’ nipple. This is not unlike a stripper named Taint or perhaps Vulva. It just doesn’t quite seem to work. 
Raisin Cox – Oh, I get it. We all get it. Clever word play if you can get past the fact you’re saying your first name is Raisin.  Seriously? Raisin? That’s ridiculous. The potential hotness of a pun about getting guys hard is immediately lost when you liken yourself to shriveled fruit most often associated with the elderly and infirm. Why not call yourself Prune Twat? 
Adelaide – Do you know anyone named Adelaide who isn’t a Victorian era spinster? Of course you don’t. This name is to sexy what vomit is to appetizing. 
Celeste – This one may not seem like it’s all that awful, but it is. Frankly it sounds far too much like Molest and Incest to be acceptable as anything remotely hot. It also sounds vaguely like it could be the brand name of anti-diarrhea medication.  
Ursula - Some guys really dig on the Nordic women; nothing wrong with tall, blonde chicks after all. But Ursula just won’t do, and not just because it seems like it should be the name of some massive, Bavarian milk maid but because of the late, great Phil Hartman who, in a handful of SNL skits, was in drag with lipstick smeared across his face and was heard to remark “My name is Ursula, I want to poke a hole in your head and make love to your skull.” Ever since then, the name Ursula has been ruined.
Astrid – If this name doesn’t come stuck to a shrill librarian whose spine is visible through her flesh it’s a surprise. For a stripper, it’s all long. You’d think a name with “ass” in it would be ok, but the trid on the end take it from hot to reminiscent of skid marks. 
Sweetums - Some strippers try to go for cutesy names like Bunny and so on, and that’s fine if she’s naked and we don’t have to actually say her name out loud or anything, but Sweetums is taking this a bit too far. Not because of the cuteness per se, but mostly because it’s also the name of a giant, hairy muppet. 
Undoubtedly there are countless more names out there that have fallen short of the hotness mark. Alas, I am but one man able to visit only so many clubs. If you have any to add though, feel free.

 
Recently, as I perused the internet looking for some interesting tidbits to share (which mostly means looking at porn, playing online games and sometimes buying useless shit on eBay) I stumbled upon an escort working out of Toronto, Montreal and other parts of Canada who provides both the standard, vanilla sexual services as well as a healthy dose of dominatrix activities for her clients. After a few e-mail exchanges and assurances I was not law enforcement, a guy jerking off on a webcam or insane, she agreed to share a few fun details about her line of work.
 
Ian: How old were you when you got started?
 
Lise: The first time I accepted money for any sort of sexual service, I was 23. The first time I did anything as a domme was the same year, but maybe 6 months later.
 
Ian: What was the first dome service you provided?
 
Lise: I had a client who wanted me to spank him with increasingly painful tools. A length of hose, a belt, a strap with metal studs embedded in it. He didn’t want sex, didn’t even want to see me naked, just wanted me to hurt him and listen to him. I thought it was kind of fun and it gave me an intense rush. So I started advertising for dome services.
 
Ian: Has anyone ever asked you to do things you’re not comfortable with?
 
Lise: Oh, of course. I doubt there’s an escort working today who hasn’t had someone request something that goes too far. Usually it’s in e-mails or voicemails and you just delete them and move on. I won’t speak with someone who is obscene from the get go and if you want me to do something illegal we won’t be speaking either. If you have a particular fetish, even one I have never heard of, I’m willing to listen and give my opinion, however.
 
Ian: Do you get many fetishes you’ve never heard of?
 
Lise: Not often anymore, it’s been over 5 years. Every so often something new come sup, though. A client who wants a pudding enema or who wants you to dress like Gary Oldman in Dracula, those are maybe once a year things.
 
Ian: Gary Oldman’s Dracula?
 
Lise: Yes. Not the old one with the stupid hair, the young one with the top hat and purple glasses, the three piece suit and all that. He even brought a bottle of absinthe, though I don’t drink.
 
Ian: How do you establish limits when offering these kinds of services?
 
Lise: As clearly as possible. I won’t leave anything to chance. Once we’ve met and had a chance to chat a bit, I’ll be very blunt about what I won’t do. There’s no blood, no scat and you do not lay hands on me for any reason. If it gets to be too much for them, they simply inform me and I stop immediately.
 
Ian: What do most clients want from you?
 
Lise: Beyond the fantasy itself, of being submissive to a woman? It’s funny that so many are so demanding, not true submissives at all, but I’m not one of those hardcore domes anyway, so I don’t let it bother me. A lot of my clients enjoy bondage and restraints, being forced to service me and a good number enjoy anal play; strap ons and toys.
 
Ian: Is that a common fantasy?
 
Lise: You tell me.
 
Ian: Subject change. Do you charge differently for dome services over just sex?
 
Lise: I don’t do much straight escorting any more, but when I was advertising both, the domme side tended to cost more. It’s a unique service, harder to find, and I do it will so I charged more.
 
Ian: How do you deal with first timers who may be a little unsure?
 
Lise: Same as everyone. You do as I say or pay the consequences.
 
Ian: Sounds intense.
 
Lise: It can be. Let me know if you’d like to try sometime.
 
The rest of our brief conversation consisted of me trying to angle for free sex while she kept trying to get me to admit I wanted a strap on in my ass, the result of which was a stalemate in which neither of us achieved our goal. However, it did offer a bit of insight into a non-militant dominatrix and the ins and outs of what she does. So if you’re every interested, make sure you find an escort/domme who has some experience, is clear about what she will and will not do, and keep your ass covered. Or not, depends on what you’re paying for.

We’re all aware of the stigma attached to prostitution, many holier-than-thou folks treat you like there’s something wrong with you if once a week you pay a woman to squat over you in a pool full of margarita mix and rub her ass on your face. Like everyone’s not doing it too or something. Hypocrites. 
Thankfully though, there is some evidence to suggest not only Is nothing wrong with you if you hire escorts, something may be better about you than the average joe. Which is to say the average joe is, in fact, average while you are above average.
According to one survey, just under 17% of respondents had paid for sex since their 18th birthday but of the respondents with the highest IQ, 22% had paid for sex. This in turn demonstrates what you’ve always suspected to be true: you are making the smart choice by banging an escort.
Arguably one could say that average ladies who don’t technically have sex for money, like girlfriends, wives and nuns, are just snotty broads who’d rather bang Ginos than guys with intelligence and therefore smart guys have a harder time getting laid, but realistically it probably just goes to show we (I like to think I’m in the high IQ club, I did go to college more than once and spent nearly half the time sober) figured out what the knuckle draggers of the world haven’t, that sometimes it’s simply more practical, economical, efficient and above all fun to find a girl, pay for her time and get that rusty trombone that your wife simply refuses to do.
No particular reason was given about why those with demonstrably higher intelligence were somewhat more likely to pay for sex, but we can always put the powers of our massive intellects to the task of figuring it out. For instance, some possibly reasons could include:

• Paying for sex rather than pursuing some bar skank allows for more time to devote to things like curing cancer, finding tax loopholes, playing chess and translating Ikea instructions


• Anal sex and facials stimulate neurons and cause synapses to fire 1.3 times faster than normal.


• Escorts contain high concentrations of B vitamins, Gingko and fiber. 

Those may not be the best reasons under the sun or even what scientists would call “remotely plausible” but hey, beyond the understanding that an escort is less of a hassle when it comes to just wanting nothing but sex, what other reason could there be?
There’s probably some manner of deep, scientific meaning that can be derived from all of this, but in the end the only real thing that need be taken away from this is that the various demeaning things you hear from the ignorant, unwashed and apparently unfucked masses about pay-for-play just don’t matter. Why?  Because a fairly significant increase in numbers shows that paying for sex and above average intelligence go hand in hand, that’s why. But being a fairly intelligent person already you don’t need me to give you excuses as to why being with escorts is OK. You probably came to your own conclusions during that first blowjob.

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Despite what the title of this blog may lead you to believe, I’ll be devoting very little time to discussing how to properly smack a dancer in the face with your nutsack, although in a roundabout way I suppose if you bag the feature dancer you could also teabag her. But that’s a choice to be made in private and not for me to say.
 
The feature dancer at a club is kind of like Moby Dick. Elusive, all consuming, naked and moist, she may haunt your dreams and you may be forced to pursue her from club to club as she won’t stay in one place long. And by pursue I mean just go out to a different club and watch some titties, nothing bizarre. No one likes a stalker.
 
House dancers are wonderful creatures but there’s a built-in allure in anything that we can’t have whenever we want it. The business world knows this and will frequently bullshit us by saying they only have a limited supply of a product, forcing every sucker to rush out and try to get it as soon as possible. If you doubt this, please refer to any story of wingnuts lined up at 5 am to buy a Playstation 3, an iPhone or a Nintendo Wii. The store may only have a limited supply of those, but that’s only because the manufacturer also manufactures desire. It’s not like there’s a shortage of plastic to make that shit or anything.
 
Likewise, there is no shortage of boob at a strip club. And yet, when a feature girl rolls into town, somehow the boob becomes that much more awesome. But how do you go from just appreciating that feature boob swaying rhythmically to poorly chosen rock music from the mid 90’s, or current and shitastic hip hop to actually pretending it’s a bongo back at your place? Tis not easy, friend. Not by a long shot.
 
Many feature dancers are features for a reason; they’re porn stars or world famous for their ability to peel a pineapple with their sphincter or something like that. Imagine all the guys that hit on a house stripper, now multiply it by every city in North America to the power of thousands of guys richer and better looking than you. You may be fucked and not in the way you’re hoping.
 
There’s no surefire way to bag a feature stripper, otherwise I wouldn’t be writing this blog right now and instead I’d be motorboating a pair of them on my gaming chair. But there are some things to consider if you want to be crafty. To start with, understand who you’re dealing with. The feature girl is not from around here and is in town to work. Her schedule may be tight (insert joke here) and she’s looking to pull in cash in a flash and move on to her next gig. But she’s still human, still has time off, still needs to eat, sleep, drink and fuck like the rest of us. This information can be your friend.
 
Feature girl is very likely shacked up a hotel nearby. She may be familiar with your city or maybe not but when she eats she’ll be eating out (insert second joke). She’s also very wary of every guy, including you, and will only have a limited time to deal with you unless you brought a shitload of cash for private dances. Time to work your magic.
 
The standard tips for picking up a stripper are the basis for your plan here, but you need to give them a bit of a steroid boost. Charm and tact go a long way, but this girl isn’t going to be in town long and you aren’t really trying to dupe her into dating you, so let’s not try any fraudulent approaches. Just be upfront but with a touch of class. When you have her attention, engage in some small talk and keep the gist of it about her. Maybe where she’s going next, where she’s been, whatever. Maybe how she likes to unwind. This smalltalk is the same thing you’re going to do with any new acquaintance so you should be able to make it genuine. The clincher is finding out when and if she’s free, and if she needs a helpful guide for dinner or anything else.
 
This is the make or break and it all depends on the girl. Some feature dancers are being run so ragged the idea of seeing a guy like you outside of work is as appealing as tongue washing a dumpster. Other girls, mind you, are going to enjoy the freedom of being somewhere new and are ready, willing and able to have a quick and easy fuck to keep the trip interesting. The key is figuring out who you’re talking to and that means cutting through the standard stripper flirts to find out if she’s really interested. Again, time is not on your side so you’re going to need to build that rapport and then fuck being coy. Be charming, be courteous, but by all means be honest.  Ask to take her out to dinner while she’s in town. The direct route is often the best and even if it goes against your instincts of trying to ramp things up too quick, remember that she’s gotta do everything quick while she’s in town.

 
It’s no surprise that very few women start out life with the intention of one day escorting for a living. Very few schools let you major in that anymore, with the exception of a few shady west coast locations. But nonetheless, if you take the time to talk to a number of providers you’ll notice that a good number of them are well spoken, educated and don’t necessarily “have” to do what they do, despite what some people might claim. These women chose to be where they are, doing what they do. And any time you choose one path, you do not choose another. So what was that other?
 
In Australia recently they earned that other path left unwalked is increasingly from the health care field. Aussies are currently suffering a bit of a health care crunch and the number of nurses is falling short. Nursing shortages mean that the nurses who are still around are being spread thin, worked like dogs and not getting paid what they’re worth. So some women have just thrown in the towel and moved shop over to the brothel.
 
Long hours, stressful conditions, poor recognition and low pay have seen a massive number of women leave nursing in Queensland, Australia with a good chunk of them moving on to prostitution. As escorting is legal in Australia, the only problems this causes are the uncomfortable ones related to sharing news of your career change with the family over the holidays. Generally that’s the sort of news that’s apt to make grandma choke of her sweet potato pie.
 
Interestingly, one of the nurses interviewed about her change of job pointed out an additional perk of escorting over nursing; safety. 45% of nurses report experiencing some form of workplace violence which is nearly non existent in escorting, at least for Australians who ensure a safe workplace for the girls through the use of buzzers in all rooms to ring for help and even kick ass James Bond style bracelets that can be outfitted if a girl feels a potential client may be a bit shady that can alert security if something goes wrong.  Toss in a smattering of extremely tough dudes waiting around to pound the shit out of anyone who needs it and brothels are safe as houses compared to hospitals.
 
When you consider the stress of a job like nursing, where a simple mistake could end up costing a life, it’s no wonder some women simply don’t want to deal with that added stress on top of the shitstorm of other issues they’re forced to put up with, not the least of which is doctors always getting the credit for any favorable outcomes even though doctors and nurses rely on one another to fully and properly treat patients. As escorts, however, the satisfaction of the client is stress free and solely in their hands. Or mouths. Or wherever. You get the idea.
 
So the next time you find yourself with a provider, even if she’s not willing to discuss her past and what else she does or has done, keep it in the back of your mind that this could very well be a highly skilled woman with extensive training in human anatomy to ensure she does her job incredibly well. And, should you suffer a stroke or pass out due to being smothered by ass, you’ll be in good hands.

 
Savvy internet surfer and fan of culinary news that you are, you no doubt have www.chow.com bookmarked and frequently check in to see what’s new. But just in case you missedit,t he website ran an article on the top 10 gentleman’s clubs with good food. It’s a pretty standard top 10 list that gives a quick blurb about each club and why their food is standout. In and of itself, this is not remarkable. What is remarkable is that no one in editorial once thought to temper the tone of the article with any genuine strip club dining experiences. For shame. Thus, in the interests of entertaining and educating, I’m forced to once again dig into my repertoire of person experiences to give you the following list of strip club eating experiences.
 
(Before I start, it should be known that all of the following stories are true and feature myself and a friend named Shane with whom I regularly attended strip clubs for quite some period of time back in college. What else do you spend student loan money on?)
 
Chow’s number 1 spot goes to a club called the Camelot Show Bar in DC that apparently has quite the menu. No mention if you’ll have any experiences like Shane and I had downtown one day when we decided to catch an early show and ordered some perogies at a local club. Guess what you don’t want to have in your hands and/or mouth while you watch a mid-afternoon stripper do her slightly uncoordinated and sleepy thing on stage. I’ll give you a hint, it’s a slimy, pale potato pocket stuffed with cheese and onion.
 
Number 2 went to Casa Diablo, with an unexpectedly all vegan menu. One night Shane and I ordered a dinner at a club that consisted of overcooked steak and some side veggies. The veg of choice today was asparagus, which Shane isn’t a fan of so I ate it all. You may be aware, if you’re astute enough to notice the stank of your own piss after eating asparagus, that the little green spears have some manner of chemical in them that, for whatever reason, causes urine to reek like the musky underbelly of some aquatic mammal. Putting yourself in a situation, at a strip club, where you’re spewing forth noxious stank for your wang is never a good idea. Trust me.
 
Number 3 is Alluvia Restaurant and the Cheetah Lounge, using USDA Prime beef on their menu, which ain’t too shabby. What is shabby? Shane once seriously ordered tapioca pudding at a club and it put me off the whole show. Lumpy, oozy blobs in a cream sauce? Fuck off with that when I’m trying to look at vagina.
 
Next on the list is Coliseum in Detroit with grilled salmon and New Zealand lamb on the menu. This didn’t happen to us per se, but we did happen to be sitting next to a guy once who ordered fish at a club (which wasn’t grilled salmon so much as some kind of breaded cod or some shit) and just mounds and mounds of tartar sauce to go with it. Now, if you can, picture sitting there, at the stage, watching a girl dance as the smell of slightly off fish and pungent sauce fills the room around you. Some menu choices just don’t lend themselves to nudity.
 
Skipping ahead a bit to ensure this story is relevant brings us to Nove Italiano in Las Vegas, which gets props for its pasta dishes. Pasta is a pretty safe bet at any restaurant usually, but here’s the thing. If you’re at a small table, with an idiot like Shane (Shane’s an idiot) and there are women around in impractical shoes who will, on occasion, dance on tables, you need to be careful withy our marinara sauce. Something gets out of hand, some sauce slurps across a table top and no one provided you with proper napkins, you can hardly be held accountable if some poor girl happens to slide through that shit and fall right on her naked ass, right? Well, you’d think that, but you’ll still get cursed out like nobody’s business.
 
Some establishments clearly provide you with a pretty decent spread of food if you’re a fan of the dinner and a show scene, but remember, choose wisely, try not to eat with your fingers, make sure you wipe your face, avoid garlic and by God if you spill that shit on the table, clean it up fast. If some broad skids through it they’ll kick your ass right out of the club.

 
We’ve gone over some of the foolish reasons people argue against the legalization of prostitution in the past. The saddest part of their arguments is not so much that it needs to be a black and white issue, they’re wrong, we’re wrong, anything like that, it’s that the popular reasons for keeping prostitution illegal are just totally ignorant and not based on any real, solid evidence. They’re scare tactics and buzzwords and half truths based on mangled statistics. 
 
Popular arguments range from increases in child prostitution, which is just short of preposterous and akin to saying legalized weed would cause a massive rise in heroin users to the notion that legal prostitution would somehow legitimize pimps and leave women more at risk for violence, as though legalizing sex for money somehow also okays assault and battery, murder and various other violent crimes, not to mention prohibits women, now engaged in a fully legal activity, from actively seeking protection from abusers. In short, most arguments against legalized prostitution are preposterous.
 
Luckily preposterous is my bread and butter and to use an industry appropriate saying, this deserves a little tit for tat.  Or a big tit. Whatever your preference.
 
Legalized prostitution will stimulate the economy: Arguably it would stimulate a lot of things, but most notably the economy would vastly benefit from legalized prostitution. Consider that most large cities in America have vice crime units specifically devoted to catching prostitutes and/or johns. These units typically have yearly budgets upwards of one million dollars. In the mid 90’s, San Francisco’s vice division was costing over $3 million which could be allocated to other places. Factor in what hobbyist spend per year (if you recall a previous blog in which the statistic that Australians spend as much as $11.3 Billion per year) on escorts, money that could now be taxed, and our economy is swimming in newly found revenue.
 
Legalized prostitution can fight crime: An extension of the above point, let us consider those multi-million dollar vice units that, no longer saddled with fighting prostitution, can now focus on actual crimes. Real sex offenses could be handled in a much more efficient manner with greater man power behind the investigations. Teams need not be wasted setting up stings in massage parlors and instead can devote time to actually stopping rapists and molesters for a change of pace.
 
Additionally, because prostitutes fear facing legal repercussions for their own choices, many other crimes not related to the sex industry that happen around and to these women go unreported for no other reason than fear of interacting with police. With prostitution legalized, this fear is removed and fewer crimes go unreported.
 
Legalized Prostitution can help fight disease: A current major concern in the sex industry is the prevalence of disease. Some women simply do not use protection or their clients do not want to partake and, due to their profession, they are not regularly screened are able to get medical treatment. Legalization accompanied by regulation could ensure the widespread education of all prostitutes on the necessity for safety and taking proper care of themselves. Due to the social and legal implications of prostitution currently, manner women, especially those most likely to be affected by these health issues, are not able or willing to seek out medical care. With that legal issue removed and no fear of reprisal there is no reason for these women not to seek out the medical and educational assistance they need and this in turn makes the entire industry safer for the women and their clients.
 
Where legalized brothels are currently in place, statistics show more girls practice safe sex and have themselves screened regularly for disease.
 
Legalizing prostitution can end exploitation: Curiously, the exact opposite of this argument is often used to say why it shouldn’t be legalized, that exploitation will become rampant if prostitution is legal. However, with regulations in place no girl need work the streets under the thumb of a pimp at all and there’s nothing that says pimping should become legal along with prostitution, nor does it need to become legal given that the necessity for a pimp would vanish once the legal issue of the job has been taken care of thus freeing women to control their own business.
 
So there you have it, four quick reasons we should legalize prostitution, none of which could probably hold up to a well thought out argument and none of which are any worse than the myriad of reasons people think up for keeping prostitution illegal.

 
So who do escorts escort, exactly? We know a lot about the women out there, the providers, who offer everything from plain vanilla missionary sex to leather fisting mittens and nun/priest roleplay in the middle of fields at 3am, ranging from pocket change blowjobs to mortgage-your-house full service extravaganzas. But who’s getting blown? Who’s dropping $150, $300, $500 and $1,000+ an hour on these particular ladies who don’t mind mixing business and pleasure? Who the hell are you?
 
The question of why men go to prostitutes probably has as many answers as there are men who actually do see providers. To seek one straight cut answer will get you nowhere. Not every man is a deviant criminal as some would try to convince you. Not every man has uncontrollable urges, not every man is drunk, not every man is dissatisfied with his own sex lie, or incapable of forming a relationship with a woman or so hideously disfigured or pathetic they “have to” pay for it.
 
Some men have become jaded against the entire “relationship” process. Get a failed marriage under your belt and tally the cost and they start thinking it’s easier to be alone in life. And when urges strike, it’s far more cost effective to simply see a provider than try to meet a woman, seduce her and form a relationship they’re not even interested in. An escort cuts out the middle man, which in this case is everything that leads up to that intimacy that some men, well within their rights to have this outlook, just don’t want. Some days you want a steak but don’t want to kill the cow, to use a horribly insulting metaphor.
 
Some men are the opposite and have committed themselves to one woman for years and have never experienced sex with another woman. While this works for some folks, it doesn’t work for everyone and that curiosity creeps in. You’re left with the choice of having an affair, or finding a woman who can give you what you want without the relationship. Morality aside, it provides some men with what they feel they can’t find at home in a way that is, for them, quick and easy and relatively hassle free. It’s like going to Wal-Mart. May not be the best joint in town, but it has what you want.
 
Some guys are simply tired of not being able to find what they want out in the “real world.” You may meet the girl of your dreams at the supermarket and find out one day she hates anal sex. You, on the other hand, may count asses in your sleep and doodle them in all your margins on papers at work and obsess constantly over plowing that hole. So now what? Your dream girl isn’t down for it and you’re anally obsessed. Escorts don’t offer up that same problem that “real world” sexual encounters do. Namely, it’s both a transaction and an interaction with another human.  You call the shots, you order what you want, you get it and are satisfied. You don’t have to hold back your fantasies or feel ashamed about asking for a certain thing when you’re with an escort because it’s all been arranged and it’s expected. This makes the entire process of sex in general far less complex and stressful for some.
 
Some men are simply too damn deep in their work and don’t have the time for any kind of relationship with a woman that has emotional ties. We live in a world where it’s not unheard of for some poor bastard on salary in an office to put in 80 hours in a week working on mundane business deals that would make the rest of us pass out with disinterest but it’s all those guys have. They can’t go out and meet people and they can’t maintain what some people would call “healthy” relationships with those they know and care about. An escort isn’t going to be concerned about that in the least, however and that’s what makes her the best option for those men.
 
You have your reasons for what you do just like every other man, and the social stigma attached to the hobby may make you keep it a secret or not. Whatever the case, should you ever stop to wonder why you do what you do, just remember that every other guy who does it has a reason too and none of them is necessarily wrong as long as you’re not fooling yourself about why you do it.

 
A quick glimpse through the forums shows that some of us aren’t as experienced as others when it comes to the hobby, and thankfully we have a venue like naughtyreviews where people of all levels of experience and interests among both hobbyists and providers can come to share insight and information, as well as pictures of sweet, sweet titties.   Everyone has to start somewhere, so why not start here as we walk through some of what you might need to know to get you on the right track.
 
The most common piece of advice anyone new to the hobby is going to get is to check reviews, and that’s because it’s good advice. Reviews exist for a reason. If no one checked reviews, it’s conceivable that thousands of innocent victims might have unknowingly gone in to see the movie Battlefield: Earth without any incline that it sucks so bad it made movies in adjacent theatres suck. Likewise, you need to know how an escort sucks and it’s based on her reviews you’ll learn this (notice that clever pun on the word “suck” there? My mom told me to include that). Let a more seasoned hand take chances on girls with no reviews, you’re better off with a girl who has a lot of positive reviews under her belt.  It’ll ensure you’re first time is going to be the best experience it can be.
 
Read up on what the girl offers. If she has a website, check it out, and scour the reviews not just for whether or not the other guys enjoyed their time, but for what they received. This isn’t the kind of stuff you want to talk to her on the phone about, as many escorts refuse to discuss services or fees over the phone as a safety precaution. You’ll need to know in advance what you want and it’s best to know ahead of time if she’ll do it. Something like a blowjob is standard but if you want her to dress like a nun and spank you with your belt, you may need to make sure she’s into that sort of thing ahead of time.
 
Shop around. Not unlike with a major purchase like a car, a house or a space aged sex doll from Japan, you don’t want to go to the first provider you see and simply accept what she charges. Most girls are competitive with the services they offer and from city to city, price range is standard. Expect to pay anywhere from $200 to $400 for an hour of full service, by and large. But that’s not written in stone and some girls can charge less and some much more, it depends on the time, the services and the girl herself. You may not want to drop $500 on a BJ that’s going to be no different from the BJ another provider offers at a fraction of the cost. You need to be as smart with your sex as you are with your car.
 
It never hurts to get to know a girl a little. She doesn’t want to chat to you on the phone, but if you do decide to meet and you’re paying for her company, if you have some extra time, chat her up. Find out what kind of person she is and just enjoy your time. This kind of interaction, aside from making it more pleasurable for the both of you, will help you relax for the next time you decide to meet a provider. The first time you do anything is bound to be stressful, just think of your first day of school, your first date, first time driving and first time you fisted a girl in an alley. All landmarks that probably left butterflies in your stomach. Your first time with a provider is bound to be a little nerve wracking, but it can also be just as memorable as all those other experiences and worth doing again.

 
Shortly after the advent of the internet came ascii porn and men trying to pick up anonymous women over a 14.4 kbps connection that made cyber sex seem more like cyber death from exposure in North Dakota. But those early poon pioneers persevered for the love of the game. As the internet evolved, so too did sex and, in general, how we tried to go about getting it. But one thing always loomed over us like the Sword of Damocles, ready to drop at any moment and it was inextricably tied to that damn anonymity. It’s ridiculously hard to be 100% sure just who you’re dealing with in an online environment. For instance, I could be a giant titty nympho just aching to meet each and every one of you. Or I could be a dude who just got off 10 hours of work in retail who needs a shave and a shower and has been having bad gas since around 3 PM. You make the call.
 
Since providers can reach a massive audience online, many have their own websites and many more at least advertise on sites. This gives hobbyists a chance to peruse pictures and services offered to decide if they’d like to make the call. Reviews are also helpful in letting you determine if this particular girl is the one for you. But, sadly, nothing is foolproof. Just as easily as I could find pics of an unshaved, gassy man to convince you I’m not a big titty nympho, so too can an unscrupulous provider offer up some fake or doctored photos and your only method of learning this terrible news is to see her in person. When it seems like it’s a bit too late.
 
Provider misrepresentation isn’t all that common, but nor is it unheard of. As it happens, I recently was told a wonderful tale from an old college friend about an independent escort he’d met well on a trip to Toronto. I wasn’t taking notes at the time, so hopefully my retelling of the tale will do it justice and perhaps we’ll all learn a valuable lesson by the end. So now, slightly dramatized for your enjoyment, is one man’s tale of woe.
 
Dear Ian,
 
So yeah, I had to go on a trip to Toronto for my job for about 4 days and I figured why not meet up with a girl while I’m there.  My buddy said he had a good time with this chick last time he was there so I decided to give it a spin. I Googled some escorts online and found this one girl who looked pretty hot in her pics. Big tits, nice ass and she did anal, so I was pretty much sold (Ed note – My friend would probably fuck anything with big tits that also enjoys anal. Like anything. If John Goodman’s car ever breaks down outside his house and he exclaims in anger “well fuck my ass!” he has no idea what he’s getting himself into.)
 
So I give her a call to let her know when I’ll be in town and she wants me to call back when I’m actually there with where I’ll be staying and all that jazz, which I do. Once I’m there, settled in, got my work squared a way I give her a call and we decide to meet at her place since it’ll be cheaper and it’s not that far away anyway. But here’s the thing, when I show up she looks like a fuckin CHUD (Ed. Note – My friend actually use the term “bag of smashed assholes, then went into some detail describing all the ways she did not resemble her pictures). She’s a good 30lbs more than the girl in the pictures and she has a seriously wicked bruise across her thighs, like someone beat her with a cricket bat or some shit. She seemed totally nice and all of that, but what the fuck? Plus, her place was a shithole.  Upscale apartment my ass. This joint was filthier than my place and I’m a fuckin’s slob. I never want to see a paid of big, white granny panties hanging off of the edge of the hamper, especially if they belong to a girl I’m going to fuck.
 
Long story short, I thought about it for a bit, but there was no way. The bruising, some stretch marks, manky hair. Those fuckin panties. I had to call it off and it was awkward as shit. And she got super pissed and tried to get me to pay her anyway. I was honestly scared she had like a razor blade or some shit and would cut me if I didn’t pay up, so I offered her half the cash and told her there was no way I’d put out the rest, then told her to change her pictures online. She called me a faggot and threatened to have some dude break my legs.
 
So yeah, by the end of the trip I got my work done, I saw the Raptors play and I wasted $150 on some bruised up, angry hooker. Good times.
 
The actual story described more putrid detail about this girl that was surely exaggerated but the point remains – we live in a buyer beware kind of a world. Check and recheck those reviews before committing to meet a girl you’ve never seen before and watch out for bruised up CHUDs.