myredbook fantasies

I hear little voices in my little head. They tell me strange tales of conquests. I shall channel them to you throught the blogger api.

Thursday, April 27, 2006

Terms and Acronyms

myredbook.com presents: Common adult sex terms, abbreviations, codes, codewords, terminology, acronyms, lingo, glossary. What does this mean, what is the definition of, dictionary defined, and what do the letters stand for:
AAMP = Apartment Asian Massage Parlor. Based in a residential apartment instead of a commercial storefront.
ABC = american born chinese
ABJ = american born japanese
Agency = a company that manages calls, bookings, and advertising for a group of providers.
AMP = Asian Massage Parlor
analinus = licking anus
Asian = analingus
Asian Cowgirl = girl on top, squatting
ASP = Adult Service Provider, or alt.sex.prostitution newsgroup
ATF = all time favorite
ATM = ass to mouth
Aunt Flo = menstruation
babyback = petite, young, attractive Asian
bait and switch = person who shows up is a different one than advertised
bareback = without condom
BJ = blowjob = oral sex = fellatio
BBBJ = bare back blow job = BJ without condom
BBBJTC = bare back blow job to completion (in mouth)
BBBJTCIM = bare back blow job to completion in mouth
BBBJTCWS = bare back blow job to completion with swallow
BBBJWF = bare back blow job with facial
BBFS = bare back sex
BBW = big beautiful woman
BDSM = bondage, discipline, sado-masochism.
BF = boy friend
BFE = boy friend experience
birdwatching = BBBJTCWS
BLS = ball licking and sucking
Blue Jay = blow job
blue pill = Viagra
BSB = bus stop babe
butter face = everything looks good, but her face
BTW = by the way
cash and dash = ROB who takes the money and runs
CBJ = covered blow job = BJ with condom
CC Rider = full service provider costing $200 or less
CDS = covered doggy style
CFS = covered full service = Sex with condom
CG = cowgirl = girl on top facing you
CH = Crazy Horse, SF Strip Club
CIM = cum in mouth
CL = craigslist.org
CMD = carpet matches drapes, typically a natural blonde
CMT = Certified Massage Therapist. A professional masseuse.
Cowgirl = CG = girl on top facing you
cover = condom
cups of coffee = releases
DATY = dining at the y = cunnilingus
DDP = double digit penetration, kitty and anus
Dodge = Mission Blvd, between A St and 14th St, in Hayward, CA
Doggie = man behind girl, girl on hands and knees
Doubles = A threesome with two girls and you
DDE = doesn't do extras (PS only)
DDG = drop dead gorgeous
DFK = deep french kissing, open mouth with tongue
DIY = do it yourself (masturbation)
DT = deep throat
ECR = el camino real
EOM = end of message. No text in message body.
facial = cumming on partner's face
FBSM = full body sensual massage
FIV = finger in vagina
FKK = Frei Körper Kultur. German brothel / nudist club.
FOB = fresh off the boat. Asian immigrant recently arrived in the US.
FOV = finger outside vagina
French = BJ
French Kiss = Kissing with tongue insertion
FS = full service = BJ + Sex
Get Brain = blow job
Get Comfortable = get completely naked
GFE = girlfriend experience. Typically BBBJ, CFS, DFK, DATY, and MSOG
GG = Golden Gypsy. defunct Berkeley massage parlor
GND = girl next door
Greek = anal sex, back door
GS = golden shower = urination play
GSM = g-spot massage
hardwood floors = clean shaven kitty
Hat = condom
HDH = high dollar hottie
HJ = hand job = a manual / hand release
HM = high mileage
HME = honeymoon experience, lapdog heaven
HWP = height and weight proportionate
IMHO = in my humble opinion
interpreter = condom
Italian = penis rubbing between butt cheeks
ISO = in search of
Lapdog = person who worships providers to excess.
LDL = low dollar looker (opposite of HDH)
LE = ellie = law enforcement
LK = light kissing, closed mouth
LOS = land of smiles (Thailand)
mamasan = female manager of a massage parlor
MBOT = Mitchell Brothers O'Farrell Theatre, SF Strip Club
MBR = multiple bell ringing = MSOG
MILF = mom I'd like to f-ck
Mish = missionary position, or the SF Mission District
Missionary = man on top, girl on back
mohawk = thin rectangular strip of pubic hair
MP = massage parlor
MP = multiple pops = multiple releases
MSC = Market Street Cinema, SF Strip Club
MSOG = multiple shots on goal = multiple releases
NCT = New Century Theatre, SF Strip Club
NSA = no strings attached
OWO = oral without condom
OWOTC = oral without condom to completion
papasan = male manager of a massage parlor
party hat = condom
PIV = penis in vagina
PL = Pathetic Loser
PO = phone operator (for making appointments)
PS = Private Show (Dance)
PSE = Porn Star Experience
PV = private viewing (Dance)
RA = relaxation assistant
raincoat = condom
RB = myredbook.com
rimming = analingus
RMP = Russian Massage Parlor
ROB = Rip Off Bitch
Reverse cowgirl = RCG = girl on top facing away
Reverse massage = you massage her
Roman shower = vomit play
RPG = role playing games
Russian = penis rubbing between breasts = Pearl Necklace = titty fuck
SC = Strip Club
SF = San Francisco
shill = an insider posing as a satisfied customer
SO = significant other
SOG = shot on goal = one release
SOMF = sat on my face
south of the border = gential region
southern france = BBBJ
SP = Service Provider
SPA = San Pablo Avenue in Oakland, CA
spanish = ATM = ass to mouth
spinner = very petite, thin girl
STD = sexually transmitted disease
stroll = path frequented by street walkers
SW = street walker
TAMP = Therapeutic Asian Massage Parlor
teabag = man squats and dips balls in partner's mouth
TG = transgender
TGTBT = too good to be true
Tina = crystal meth
TJ = Tijuana
TL = Tenderloin district, San Francisco. between Van Ness Ave, Post St, Taylor St, and Golden Gate Ave
TLD = topless lap dance
tossing salad = analingus
Troll = rude and hideous PL
Trolling = Posting thinly disguised ads in a discussion forum
TOFTT = Take one for the team. In reference to a new, non-reviewed provider.
TS = transexual
TUMA = tongue up my ass
TV = transvestite
UTF = Untranslated French = BBBJ
WTF = What the fuck? (I'm surprised by this)
XOXO = Kisses & Hugs
YMMV = Your mileage may vary. Your service level could be different than reported by others. Applies to everyone, some more so than others.
1/2 and 1/2 = half and half = oral sex + full service
411 = seeking information
420 = 4:20 = marijuana
69 = two people giving each other oral sex at the same time

$ = $100
$$ = $200
$$$ = $300
$$$.5 = $350 (get it?)

incall = You go to her place, or a place she designates.
outcall = She comes to your place, home, hotel room.
two call system = For incall locations. Your first call is to set up the time and get the general directions on where to park. Your second call is made when you arrive to get the specific address / room number.

See also, tips on reading escort ads:
http://forum.myredbook.com/dcforum2/DCForumID15/3.html

International FAQ
http://forum.myredbook.com/dcforum2/intl/8.html

Thursday, April 06, 2006

TheWhorerTheWhorer Review - My date with FrenchKiss

http://forum.myredbook.com/dcforum2/DCForumID8/14463.html

It was a dark and stormy night, and the big day had arrived: my date for a freebie with FrenchKiss.
I had no intention of having sex with her. Not my type. Besides, I would ruin her for other men, and it seemed uncivil to do that while getting a freebie. No, what I wanted out of this was to make her sweat it out; make it very clear who holds the power between us. But I am not a beast. I wanted to present a clean-cut appearance, and if in doing so, I aroused her desires (as so often happens to women around me), then my denial of her passions would only serve to re-enforce the message.

I read some posts on pheromones on RB and figured that should get her motor running. Damn, that stuff is pricy! I recalled something about musk having the same effect, and figured I could substitute it. But where to find it? They stopped making Musk cologne maybe 25 years ago. So I had to improvise, and after a quick shower, I rubbed a dead badger all over my chest. With couple of dabs of Old Spice behind the ears for insurance, I headed out into the night.

It's a long drive to SF in the rain, and a shame to go all that way and not get laid, so I packed an extra $150 and a cheese sandwich for a trip to the AMP after our date. As I steered the car through the hills split by 580, I thought ahead to the positions I would be rotating through with my girl of choice, and felt a stirring in my loins.

(we're going to get laaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiidddd!!!!) the little head sang happily.

Before long, I was in FK's neighborhood. I parked my car, and did a last check on supplies, including weapons. Now, I don't want to give you the wrong idea here, this was simply for self-defense. I could not imagine why FK would make this bet in the first place. It seemed to me quite likely that this was all a setup, and I was determined to be prepared if it looked like I was going to be donkey-punched.

We had arranged to meet in a small neighborhood bar. I strolled in and gave the place the once over, taking note of the exits. When I turned around, there she was, taking a seat at the bar.

My original plan was to find some homeless guys, the scruffier the better, and have them enter the bar in sequence and introduce themselves as me. But there never seems to be a homeless guy around when you need one, and this night was no exception. I was on my own.

I sidled up to FrenchKiss and said hello. She didn't look bad at all; better in person than her photographs, I thought. She was kind enough not to blanch at the sight of my goiter. There was a tense moment when a camera flash went off, and my fingers closed around the cannister of pepper spray in my pocket. But it turned out to be some butt pirate recording a moment with his friends, and I relaxed.

We made a little small talk, and it instantly became clear to me that this would go a lot smoother if we were both drunk. I waved to the bartender and ordered two tequila shooters. For a moment, I was afraid she might ask the bartender to leave the bottle, and this
was, after all, supposed to be MY night. But I actually had to teach her how to drink tequila, and could not cajole her into another round (granted, I asked 90 seconds after the first).

She suggested we bug out of the bar and head to her place. It started to fall into place, THIS was her plan, to get me away from witnesses, and to a place where I could be safely ambushed. But I was ready for her. I was determined to take a notch out of the ears of whomever she had foolishly recruited to take me on. My paranoia was completely unfounded. Although I will note that I was assaulted by her dogs, especially Domino, who buried his snout in my ass crack and kept it there until FK pulled him off (micro-review: BFE, I would repeat). She asked if we could walk her dogs, and I said sure, why not.

So we walked, and we talked. When we passed by a liquor store, she picked up some beef jerky which she fed to her dogs. What a memory-jog that was; I used to take my dog Shannon to the store and treat her the same way, a lifetime ago. God, I loved that dog. How I wept when we had to put her down. Steph's dogs, like mine, were none too careful to ensure that your fingers remained attached to your hands while in pursuit of their prize.

Thus far, Stephanie had done a poor job of meeting my expectations of the heartless, money-grubbing, coke-snorting, overrated fat hoe I knew her to be. But let's face it: she had every reason to put on an act for me. I was determined to interrogate her further, and reveal the truth.

We went to a park so the dogs could take a dump while we talked. We talked about notorious characters on Redbook; the pros and cons of being a hooker; about her troubled past; about my own difficulties; about whether the plate in my head picked up radio signals. We talked about really personal stuff, hers and mine, which is none of your damn business. We went from antagonists to intimates so rapidly that I didn't have time to make up cover stories.

And then, we were back at her apartment. I sat down to thwart the persistent probing of Domino's nose. We explained ourselves to each other. The candor was liberating; stimulating, exhilarating. I felt utterly revealed, and reciprocated the complete trust she granted to me. At long last, we reached a lull in the conversation.

I caught her eye, and she looked back. Our eyes locked. For a few moments, the rest of the room disappeared. I could not disengage from looking into her eyes, nor could she.

"What...?" she inquired, and her voice trailed off. But we both knew what.

I rose from my chair, and never lost her gaze. Slowly, I moved across the room towards her, still staring intently into her eyes. She looked at me with slight surprise; with anticipation; with an implicit understanding that we were moving in stereo towards a most improbable conclusion.

I crossed past the edge of her personal space, past the point of inevitability, and I experienced The Moment. The Moment immediately before your lips touch the lips of another whom you've never kissed before, whom you want to kiss, whom you've always doubted would ever kiss you, whom you're unsure will kiss you now, even though you're millimeters apart, and can feel their breath on your lips, whose warmth you can feel on your entire face, and during which it would stop your heart to be interrupted.

And so we closed our eyes, leaned in close and I felt the warmth of her breath on my cheek...our lips parted as our mouths met, her tongue soft and warm as it met mine. It was a moment that could be an eternity unto itself, a moment where the person you are kissing is only thinking about kissing you. But neither of you is thinking at all.

(we're going to get laaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiidddd!!!) the little head sang happily, as he rose to a standing ovation.

Finally, we parted, and opened our eyes to look into those of the other, and we smiled. Her eyes shone like star sapphires in the dim light of the room. The only sound in the room was the slight popping noise as the zipper in my pants began to buckle and fail. The
anticipation of having sex with this woman made me weak in the knees.

"Thank you", she murmured.

Thank you, of course 'thank you', all the girls say thank you to me after sex, but why is she saying that now?

"...for a wonderful time." she concluded. "You're not nearly as bad in person. In fact, you're kind of nice."

Wonderful time?....time....TIME!! My wrist shot up towards my face, and I angled the watch face this way and that, trying to make sense of the display.

"It's been over an hour," she said lightly as she gently withdrew from me. A generous hour. An unrushed hour. Way more than an hour.

(an hour completely wasted) complained the little head.

My mouth flapped like a trout for a few moments, trying to recover. I was completely nonplussed. Another hour! I'll buy another generous, unrushed hour! Which I don't have enough money for, FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!!!!!!!

She released the hounds back into the room, an unconcious act of conclusion. The eight-legged aardvark was not going to be visiting this room tonight.

Can I take a shower? That's what I wanted to say. But what escaped my lips was "...*ack*...". "Excuse me?" she asked. The second time, I articulated my request correctly.

She giggled. "Why do you need a shower?"

(because he wants to BEAT OFF!!) the little head screamed.

"Um, never mind", I stammered.

Soon, it was all over. I mumbled some goodbyes, Domino sniffed my ass one last time for the road, and I stumbled out into the cold.

Later, at the liquor store, I thumbed my way through the magazines featuring big-titted blondes. My collection of porn at home was decidedly monotonic on race, featuring asians exclusively, and could only fail me in my current moment of need.

Behind the counter was a wheezy, corpulent man. His tongue and lips molested the wet end of a cheap, unlit cigar. "Pick 'em out, pick 'em out. This ain't no liberry", Jabba the Hutt growled around his El Producto. With a sigh, I selected a copy of Tea-Bagging Nuns #14 and made my way to the register, selecting a bottle of MadDog 20 along the way.

Jabba slid the magazine into the bag with a practiced flourish, and nestled the bottle in the curls of the magazine. He slid the bag across the counter.

(we're going to ruin this magazine when we get home), the little head said amiably.

Jabba repeated the total in a tone that made it clear that there would not be a third time. I paid and hurried out the door.

It's a long ride home to Tracy, so I had plenty of time to think about what had happened to me tonight. Thanks to my reliance on habits and prejudices to produce happiness, I've been living my life like that Autopia ride at Disneyland: I have only the illusion of control and autonomy, while coursing the same path time and again. I began to ponder how many other opportunities I had missed over the years by dismissing them out of hand.

Damn, I really hate doing that, especially when I can't blame it on someone else.

In the end, the only thing that matters is that you're happy and satisfied, and that can come from any race, body shape, gender, or (in fountainhead's case) species. Maybe it was time to consider the whole person. Maybe it was time to be a little more tolerant of people who have already figured this out. Stephanie had led me to a door; now it was time for me to open my eyes and step inside.

As I coasted down the ramp at my turnoff, I began to draft my Redbook review:

Looks: Better than photos

Attitude: Met my match

Service: Learned my lesson

Would I repeat? Yes, I would. And before doing anything else, I would tell her this: Stephanie, I'm so sorry for being so unkind to you over the years. Maybe you asked for some of the things I said, but you didn't deserve them all, or even most of them, and you never deserved it when I crossed the line into naked cruelty. I thought I knew you, but I knew nothing about you. You made me realize that my opinions about hookers were not enlightened, they were constricted, and at a loss to both sides. And you did all this by exercising one of the kindest elements of the human heart: the belief that anyone, no matter how incorrigible, is worth redeeming.

(then we'll bang her till we shake the wax out of her ears), the little head added hopefully.

I eased my car into my parking space, and headed up the walkway to my front door.

(we're going to beat off!) the little head sang, without much enthusiasm.

I shifted the bag to my other arm, fished the keys from my pocket, opened the door, and stepped inside.

Somewhere in the distance, a dog was barking.