A Taste of Halima

When fantasy is all that gets you through

2006-06-08T22:33:00.000-05:00

There are nights that are just... tough.
It's still hard sometimes to find something that attracts me enough to a client to let me get into it. That's when my mind is my best, best friend. Certain things just squick me too much.
I close my eyes and picture someone attractive. The who, and the gender aren't important. When I rub my nipples, it's them. I picture multiple partners licking my neck, the back of my knees, my clit. I arch my back and pretend that I can feel the penetration deep, even if the current endowment leaves something lacking. I reach down and while I rub their balls I brush my ass.
I bite my tongue and moan. Never names. That's too easy to mess up. Unless someone really wants to hear something I stick to general words. I pant and build myself up- I've found the more I pretend the more worked up I can get.
I call myself a slut. I think that for me it's one of the hottest things to hear, even mentally, during sex.
And when I cum I smile, because I know it wasn't for him. It was for me.

Well

2006-05-31T20:47:00.000-05:00

I've gotten more comments since I've been gone then when I was here regularly. I'm flattered, guys.
I'm going to answer some of them... because I can. And you took the effort to write.
"Wow, somebody that is proud of being a sex worker, yet at the same time, ashamed of it. What a clash of the titans. It becomes even more obvious, when you blog about it, as a venting platform, and give out many details about the actual lifestyle, yet you hide behind the anonymity so as to further expose your shame of yourself. It's obvious that you are not in control of the "work" you do, rathet that it is in control of you. Meaning, when you say you are not dependant on a man, in reality, instead of being dependant on one entity, you have become not only dependant, but at the same time addicted to this "industry", in the fact that you don't possibly see yourself "retiring" anytime soon. That sounds pretty dependant to me.May Allah guide you. "
I don't really think that I'm ashamed of what I do. My family may not know all the details, but they do realize that I earn my living in the adult industry. Many of my friends know. I can look myself in the mirror still... and to me that's the biggest thing. I can look at my child and not be ashamed. It's not something I'd shout from the rooftops, and I do lie about it. It's more the reaction from others then the way that I feel, though.
In some ways, I guess that I'm not fully in control of this. Could I support myself this well in another job with my education and the hours I'm willing to put in? No. I know that I can't. It's a large reason why I'm where I am. Many days I like what I do. I enjoy the pace and the drama, even. I keep it out of my personal life so having it in my professional life is fine.

"how very thoughtful and well spoken. sorry about your parents.no matter what people think, though, real shame comes from not making ends meet."
I wish that they could accept what I do. And be happy that I make the money that I do. I don't think it'll ever happen, though. And I do agree- I think that is one thing that'd make me ashamed- not being able to support myself.

"do you ever dream about having a little warm home with some guy you love? I don't really thkink how you can after reading this entry.. please rethink your way of life... "
At this point in my life I don't dream about that, really. I'm still young enough that there is plenty of time for that down the road if I ever feel drawn to it. I do rethink my way of life. Constantly. Every time so far I've come to the conclusion that this where I belong.

That's enough questions for now. Although I will say that Stephanie (ex-millennial girl) has been good about asking how I am- so here- I'm good. Life is up, life is down, and frequently just a swirl.

A Taste of Halima

2006-05-09T20:32:00.000-05:00

What the hell happened over at Strip City?
I miss Mic's blog. I liked reading about his side of the industry- I love (usually) the DJs and it sounds like he was a good on.
Now the site is a bunch of softcore stuff & it sounds like a different person is writing.
Anyone care to clear this up for me?

Oh, I'm glad alright

2006-03-14T21:38:00.000-05:00

Being in sex work isn't the be all end all to most people's problems. If you treat the life right, though, it can really be good. I live a lifestyle that otherwise I would have no way to support. I can give myself and my daughter the best of what we want & need. The women I still talk to from high school who are single don't match that. Hell, most of the married ones don't.
I'm saving (and will continue to do so) enough that I should retire in the next 10 years or so. I can then go on and go to college and do something else... or not. It's wonderful that I will be in that position.
I don't know that at this point I'd even be suited to some 9-5 desk job. In reality I work maybe 20 hours a week and make more in that week then that desk job could provide.
Not to say that it's always easy- I don't know if I could really escort more then that a week. I think that too many women go into this not knowing what it entails and not having enough personal strength to not be ripped emotionally to shreds. It's not an easy thing to do. Our society has placed such a stigma on strippers, escorts, and porn people. We usually lie about what we do. My parents know, although we don't talk about it. They are so disappointed and I think they like to imagine that I'm a waitress like I told my grandma. I send them money, periodically, and they never take it. I guess knowing that I earn the way I do ruins it for them.
I like that I'm not dependant on a man. I know that I still depend on men for income, but I don't have all my hopes in one place. I've thought about seeing just one man before- more of the sugar daddy kind of thing then the whore thing. It doesn't appeal to me. I like the freedom of cutting ties with a guy with no repercussions. I like that there is always another out there.
When I got into this I had no idea. I was naive. I was a teenager. Barely legal, baby dancer- I promoted it and used it. It also struck me really hard after a few months- that I really was doing this- that I really lived this way. I became a mother before I had a car and I started stripping right after my 18th birthday. I thought I knew everything. Don't most people at 18? I made the further jump to escorting not too long after that.
Now that I have some years of experience I've changed the way that I think about all of this. I am careful to keep it sperate from my 'real' life with my child and my friends. I don't want the two to touch.
That's also why I don't expect to have a website and do internet work. It feels more permanent. Once you are out there it's around for all time... even after retirement. I want to be able to make a break eventually.
In the mean time, I have some good sex, some great friends... and stories I'll never forget. I've either seen it or been asked for it- whatever it is.

Quality is in the details

2006-03-11T19:35:00.000-05:00

I've been thinking about what divides good sex from bad sex. Or even just average sex. I think it's more in the small, sometimes really small, details. Someone can be attractive- my type even, have great length and girth, and still leave me unsatisfied. And I've had enough sex to be able to salvage nearly any experience.
There are certain things that keep me from coming, no matter how hard/ fast/ slow/ soft/ long/ short the sex is.
1)Bad breath. My god- this is a bad one. Especially if he's on top and breathes through his mouth. It's disgusting having hot, rancid air blown down on you. When this happens it's all I can think about. If he's not paying, I recomend a mint.
2) Having not recently showered. Stinky, sweaty balls. Gag me. I've (nearly) solved this by showering with most clients before or at least keeping baby wipes handy. Guys- if you are going to go see a woman- keep yourself CLEAN.
3) Bad rhythm. Also, nonexistant rhythm. Stop & start & stop.... I can't concentrate. I usually see if they are receptive towards me being on top since people who can't keep a steady motion are bad from behind, as well.
4) Sweatiness. I know, I know everyone sweats. If you drip on me though, I'm not feeling so hot. It's gross.
5) Lying about experience level. I don't like being told that you know everything about everything because you've watched porn. Good for you- I'm not porn star. Some of those things are just not gonna happen.
Sorry.
Not.

Why is it that complaining is more fun then the alternative?
Maybe next time I'll go over favorite things. Sex is kind of an infinite topic.

Is it March, already?

2006-03-09T21:15:00.000-05:00

Where does time go? For a while I was so good about updating- and it was fun. And it was stress relief. Then I stopped and I miss it.
So.
What's new, what's different?
Nothing, really. Faces change but the stories are the same. I feel like just looking at someone I could tell where they've been and who they've been. When it comes down to it it's mainly semantics.
We all live so similarly.
Sure, I pay my bills by shaking my ass and whatnot and you may work in an office- but we both have bills. And responsibilities.
It's all the same.
Regardless, I'm back.

A Taste of Halima

2006-01-17T12:27:00.000-05:00

There are times that I'm just not feeling it. I think I'm sexiest (and therefore better) at work when I'm feeling hot and ready to screw myself.
When I'm not I notice things at work I usually don't. The way that many of the men that I've enjoyed dancing for really are kind of sad. That it isn't my conversation that holds them in. Mostly that even though the faces change the stories and motives don't. Work in the sex industry long enough and you will hear once in a life time stories at least weekly.
I'm hard to shock. I shouldn't be jaded already.

A Taste of Halima

2005-12-29T21:29:00.000-05:00

It's like I feel off of the face of the earth. Sorry, all!
I did what I said that I wouldn't- I went back to stripping. Something about the way I feel, the way time goes. The people, the bullshit, the drama. I'm insane, but at least I'm honest and aware of it, right?
The money isn't as good as escorting, not even close, but the social aspect of it seems to balance that out. For now.

2005-11-30T23:55:00.000-05:00

I did something very selfish- I took some time off. Part of my birthday treat to myself was time to be myself, and with my family. I don't appreciate it enough until I short myself for a while.
Now that I'm a year older and wiser however, I'm back to work.

And with that... one of my favorite things to do is role play. Good thing- a decent chunk of sex for money is pretending things that you don't think/ feel.
Someone who wants to role play is different, though. It isn't so much an admission that I pretend so much as an opportunity to enter into someone's fantasy knowing completely what they want and expect. I love doing that.
Some fantasies are more my thing then others. I like some Daddy play, although I don't really dig age play. I like mock rape- as long as it's a client that I trust to know when the 'no' is genuine. I love approaching normal acts like they are tabboo- such as anal sex.
I love pretending to be inexperienced and nervous, although it can be hard to maintain.
I love my job.

2005-11-20T14:26:00.000-05:00

I've been rather negative here lately, and it bugs me. I like my life- I even love it most of the time. It seems like unless something has bothered me I have bothered to write about it, and that isn't right. My life is far more then a series of complaints.
Overall I am incredibly lucky. I get my share of the bad apples but overall by guys are good and treat me well. And tip well. I should be focusing more on that vs. the small irritations that I go through.
I've been having a lot more sex recently- not only work related. I've met a new guy that is good for some social fun, although we don't mesh as well as I need for it to be a long term thing. The change is nice, though. I get bored with the same person over and over. That's part of the reason that this job fits me so well- constant variety.
Also- I have a birthday coming up. I'm excited and planning suitable ways to celebrate.

Thing is..

2005-11-14T14:30:00.000-05:00

I'm not in this for love. I don't think that you really are in love with me. Really, dear, you don't know who I am. You pay me to act this way, to treat you the way that I do.
Remember that?
There are faces and places and things in me that you have no idea about. Know why?
Because I don't want you to. I don't let work come home with me, and I mean that literally.
Sincerely,
Halima

P.S. You aren't the first guy to try this, and I doubt you'll be the last. Nice try. Go back home to your wife.

Sex Advice, Part 6543539

2005-11-07T23:52:00.000-05:00

One thing that I encounter in sex work more frequently then the average person is that I regularly have sex with people I am not physically attracted to. It's kind of a unique position that professionals are in.
How do you have sex with someone who's appearance/ mannerisms don't do it for you?
I have found that it helps to focus on individual characteristics. I can find something I like in nearly any one, even if it as simple as height. I think it is very important to focus on what doesn't bother you vs. what does- you'll never be able to get into it if all you can think about is his gut/ hair/ acne/ extra appendages. Once I find one thing that is good, I build off of that, and make sure that I tell the other person.
It's important to let the other person know that the sex isn't a chore, that there is something in it for you (well, besides money), as well. I'd not want to sleep with a person who treated it just as a job, and worked towards orgasm as fast as possible to end the experience.
It also is beneficial to stretch out mutually enjoyable activities. With some one who's body doesn't do it for me, I like to start with a blow job because the activity is usually enjoyable for both of us.
Moral here- even with someone that doesn't cause instant lust you can have an enjoyable experience. And make money.

2005-11-03T23:34:00.000-05:00

An important, if rather snobbish observation- I have never solicited business off of the street /corner/. While I have nothing except respect for the women who make their living in that fashion, I have never done it.
I don't think that makes me superior. Yeah, I know that I'm still a prostitute. However, it means that I don't have a whole lot of familiarity with that world, because it's pretty removed from mine. I deal with some shitty situations, but to me the inherent risks of street work far exceed escorting and agency work. I'd rather pay the agency then have a pimp. I'd rather not be picked up by a serial killer.
I can't envision a turn of events that would land me on the street, and I'm glad.
Sorry, all. I just needed to clarify/ confuse a little more.

Boo hoo

2005-11-01T23:38:00.000-05:00

From where I am standing, you don't even know what stress is. Qui complaining, at least to me. I hate hearing it. I hate looking at your face. Honestly, you disgust me. If it wasn't for the money, I'd NEVER touch you. Amazing that someone who offers what I need can be the last person that I want.
Seriously. You repulse me.

Hey, pretty boy

2005-10-28T13:30:00.000-05:00

I don't really like pretty boys. They tend to think that they are god's gift to women. They expect things to be given to them. When I was dancing (like it was sooo long ago) pretty boys, as a group, are one of the poorest tippers. They have the attitude that, "Hey, I can get girls like this- for free!! I'm not tipping." Also present with this attitude is the annoying come-on. Treating a strip club as a singles bar is, in a word, absurd.
I wasn't ever there looking for a meaningful relationship. Neither are the other girls. Strippers want one thing from you- your money. If you are hot, and don't tip- don't expect a serious dancer to spend/ waste time with you. It's an empty proposition.
Another thing that pretty boys are pretty useless for, is sex. Too often they rely on their looks to get the job done, as opposed to actually knowing what a woman likes. What a trade off! A hot body and face, and the need to always fake or masturbate. Sorry, boys, I'd rather have a man who can actually get me off, who has taken the time to understand someone else's body instead of staring in the mirror for hours.
This doesn't mean I've never made the pretty boys mistake, cause I have. And I've learned that while they may be nice to look at, the lack of social skills, horrible sex, and flighty attitude make the whole package not attractive.

Opinions

2005-10-24T18:27:00.000-05:00

Everyone has an opinion. It amazes me how much people judge each other based on things that seem superficial. Like profession. Or age. Or race.
When I started stripping, I told my parents, because I'm honest like that. They weren't too fond of my choice- in fact I think at times they'd have rather not known. It was incredibly difficult for them, and they tried pretty much anything they could think of to dissuade me from the life of 'sin' I'd chosen.
They still do. My parents still think I'm just a dancer, that that is as far as I've gone. After all, they raised me to be a good girl. Ha.
In my experience, former good girls make for some of the most enthusiastic adult entertainers. That's off topic, though.
I think my father, in particular, would have a heart attack if he knew I was an escort, a (insert gasp) prostitute. So, I have let them believe that I am still, and plan to remain, a peeler.
It's a lie, of sorts, but I'm not losing sleep over it. It's my job. That's all. Is someone's choice of profession really worth getting so worked up over? I rarely tell people that I meet what I do- it clouds everything that they know about me, or that I say afterwards.
For most people, it's an insurmountable hurdle- something I've done that forever sets me apart from the rest of mankind.
How do I sleep at night?

rewind

2005-10-16T23:18:00.000-05:00

I'd been escorting just long enough to think that I knew what it was all about- that I was smart. Six months.
It sounds laughable now, but at the time, I was an expert, at least in my eyes. A woman of the world. I'd been stripping a while longer then that, I was independant. And still not yet twenty- one. On top of the world.
Don't worry, this isn't too traumatic, or maudlin.
I went to see a guy, I'll call him L because thinking up generic names is getting old. He was in his fifties, heavy, and balding. No surprises there.
He'd requested that I wear a garter belt with stockings, and a dress. He ushered me into the hotel room, and had me strip down completely, leaving the belt and stockings. He then had me stand, naked, on the middle of the bed, with my legs spread.
"Look natural. Relax." He kept saying. I felt completely weird, and awkward, but was still trying to act (and feel) like I knew what was up.
He walked around the bed for what seemed like an eternity, just staring at me. I tried to ask him a few times what he wanted, and he just shushed me. It seemed like a bizarre use of money, but hey, his call right?
He eventually put on a pair of vinyl gloves and fingered me until I came. He had me stand the whole time, and it was hard to get into it, let alone remain standing once I finally did.
After, he had me dress, put the gloves into a baggie, and gave me a generous tip.
It was easy money, I suppose, but one of the weirder experiences I've still had. There was no sexual contact for him. The gloves?
I just don't know.

2005-10-13T20:57:00.000-05:00

Alright, I know this is hard to understand. But if you are remarkably poorly endowed, and ask me to tell you how big you are, and make lots of noise... I may giggle.

Quitter

2005-10-08T23:29:00.000-05:00

It's official- I'm done with the bullshit. At least temporarily. As much as I love stripping, and honestly, I usually do, I need a break. My manager was being a fuck, there is some sketchy stuff going down with some (many) of the girls....
The energy is bad right now.
My managers parting shot to me was, "You are making a mistake. We pay your bills."
I said, "Like hell you do. I pay your bills." And I did. I was top girl.
Don't worry, I'll be fine. I'll actually make more in theory, because I can work more as an escort, and to be honest, the pay is muxh much better.
And more sex can't hurt other areas of my life, either.
Even still.... It kinda sucks.

Evil

2005-10-06T22:26:00.000-05:00

I don't know want to get into it right now, but today reinforced both my belief in soulless people and true evil.
I feel cold just thinking about it.

I know, I know

2005-10-05T23:55:00.000-05:00

It's annoying, but the Black Eyed Peas song 'Hump' is good for dancing right now. As long as I keep a straight face. DON'T LAUGH.
Seriously though, I am glad that I am not choosing music for a bunch of strippers. We're mean.

2005-10-04T01:06:00.000-05:00

Why, yes, I am allowed to end a date early when you ask me if I allow fisting. And then ask if I'm sure.
What did you think, the second go would magically change my mind? Go buy a blow up doll. Or ask about something as unusual as fisting before the date. It'll make the experience better for both of us.

2005-10-03T18:41:00.000-05:00

So, three reasons that I am happy that I don't live in Seattle- no lapdances, no dollars in g-strings, and lighting like a department store. Who ever that judge was, he'd better avoid both strippers and pimps for a while.
Sheesh.

Censorship

2005-10-02T22:38:00.000-05:00

After the anonymous comment I thought about putting in a label about this being an adult blog. Then I looked at the blog, and realized that it is already easily recognizable as such. Children shouldn't be reading it, but I don't see it as my duty to make it tough to view.
If you have no business reading everything on the internet, you have no business being on without supervision.
End of story.

Wow! What a deal!

2005-09-30T14:21:00.000-05:00

For some reason this happens far more frequently then I like. Men offer me more money then agreed upon in order to try to encourage somthing I've already said no to.
Usually, it's unprotected sex. As if an extra $100 or so will encourage me to risk contracting an STD or HIV. Spectacular. My life is worth far, far more then a hundred bucks. I don't understand why you don't believe that.
It's called protection for a reason, asshole. If you are willing to ask me this, then you probably ask others, too. And I know that there are ladies who'll do this, who think that the extra cash is worth it. While I respect their rights to do as they wish with their bodies, I think it's unwise. If you sleep with people who havve multiple (especially paid) partners, you are going to catch something nasier then a cold.
I promise you that.
I also guaruntee that I have no desire to participate. If that pisses you off so muxh, or if you just can't understand it, then go see someone else.

2005-09-28T00:17:00.000-05:00

In case you thought we didn't... we warn each other. This girl came up to me after she got out of VIP. She indicted the nicley dressed older man hurrying the other direction. "Stay away." She said.
Apparently, he stuck his thumb in her during a dance. EW. That's not okay, and we don't take that shit.

2005-09-26T12:48:00.000-05:00

The lust in his face was not new, but it was still exciting. He pressed me down to the floor, and bit at my neck. I pulled his belt out of his belt loops and unzipped his pants. He reached down, grabbed my hands to stop me, and used his belt to tie them together.
I absolutely love sex with him when he does that.

?

2005-09-22T23:41:00.000-05:00

What is the deal with my side bar? Any suggestions?

Reply

2005-09-22T13:13:00.000-05:00

E-head left a comment on my settling post that I want to reply to.

I had a similiar experience years ago ... about 9 or 10 years ago, now that I think about it. I was dating this really cool chick, but I just didn't feel that magical 'spark'. She was really a wonderful girl, and in retrospect probably the coolest girl I've ever dated.In restrospect, I think I should have married her.

From my experience, past relationships seem sweeter, especially as more and more time goes on. I tend to forget the things that bother me, and focus on the ways that it worked. I try to be honest with myself, though, and I know that I (hopefully) made the best decision. Love isn't something that I want just to grow into being. I want someone who fits.

I've been more or less miserable and alone ever since, having not connected with anyone on the same level I had connected with her on. As I've grown older I've begun to seriously doubt the reality of that 'spark' everybody is talking about ... the last time I experienced it I was 20. I think that spark might have more to do with hormones than anything else, hee hee.

In reality, I think many of the sparks we feel are hormonally driven. I think lust is often confused with love. People mistake sexual chemistry for something htat will last.

In which case, I could be in for a long wait.There are some people that tend to think that the more adventurous road will always bring more happiness than the more conservative road. Now that I am older, I am beginning to see the error in that. Also, there is a tendency to never regret our previous decisions ... everybody is always repeating "no regrets" over and over, like a mantra. Well hell, I have plenty of regrets. It's one thing to regret, and another thing to dwell.

I regret a few things from my past. I try to see mistakes that I've made as building blocks for the future, as ways to grow. It isn't always that easy. People who say that they don't regret anything are probably self-deluded, or more perfect then anyone I've ever met.

My final words of wisdom are this, everything will NOT necessarily work out for the best. Sometimes they go to hell in a handbasket.There are all these optimistic 'myths' our society likes to try and perpetuate ... Just look around you ... has everything always worked out for everyone you see ? Is everything "for the best" ? Does everyone that is not 'looking' actually really find love ? Hell, I havn't been looking for years, and the only thing I noticed is I turned into a grumpy old man ... ha.Anyhow, for some reason I just felt the need to be a counter balance to all the optimistic hogwash you hear out there ...

Many of the things that people say are said to make them feel better. Do I think that everything happens for a reason? No. Will I necessarily find love? No. Do things work out for the best? Yes, I think they do/can. That is something that is determined by mindset. Am I alone? There are people all around me. I have a beautiful daughter, some good friends, more aquaintences then I'd like, and plenty of people I am intimate with. I have loyal customers. But there isn't a special someone that I surl up with at the end of the day every night, or even regularly. That doesn't affect my happiness. I'm at a point in my life where that isn't even what I am looking for.
I hope that when I am old I don't look back at the decision not to settle and regret it. I also don't want to wake up thirty years from now next to someone who isn't quite right.
All I can do is do the best that I can,recognizing that I will fail, I will mess up... but I'll get through anyways.

10 things that sex workers SHOULDN'T do

2005-09-21T14:04:00.000-05:00

I think it's time to complain more! Like I do anything else here right now.
There are certain rules of etiquette that I think all sex girls should follow.
1. If, as a stripper, you exit VIP and announce that you totally just banged your client, I will not respect you. You just made my job harder by being a skanky girl at a place that sells illusion. Now, next time that that client comes in, he's gonna really be looking for extras from the next girl he brings into VIP.
2. This is doubly more irritating if let some guy finger you/ lick your tits/ purposefully grind him until he comes in a dance on the floor. If you are going to do it, make him pay. Don't let him think that strippers give out stuff on the floor.
3. Make sure that there aren't any obvious signs that you are doing coke before you leave the dressing room. I don't want to have to point out that you have some snow on your face.
4. If you have (or even think you have) some sort of personal infection, don't grind on the pole. We all don't want to hear at the end of the night that you were smearing some gross stuff onto the pole. It makes others of us go to the Dr. too, just in case. On second thought, this applies to if you sleep with someone right before work & don't clean up well. EW.
5. If your escort asks for some personal information before a first date, it isn't so she can bust you. It's because I don't want to end up rolled in a rug beside the highway.
6. If you want edge play, go see a BDSM professional. I'll pee on you, but you won't be choking me. I won't be choking you.
7. Girls, every time you see a client, do call backs. Call when you/ the client arrives. Have someone call at the predetermined end time. I don't care if it's embarassing. It's about safety.
8. If a client asks for something you don't understand, make sure you know what he wants before you agree. FYI BB isn't ever a good idea.
9. Remember, you are selling time, not sex. TIME NOT SEX.
10. This goes for all women. If you ever feel uncomfortable, leave the situation. Those feelings are a good thing to trust.
If I feel so inclined, I'll do a John list. Only, there will be more things on it.
I'm a dumbass, I know.

2005-09-15T19:31:00.000-05:00

There was a time that I came aweful close to settling. Not just down, but for someone who wasn't everthing I was looking for. He was nice, financially decent, good to me and my daughter. Logically, Icouldn't find anything wrong with him.
My heart wasn't in it, though. There were two paths in front of me. One, as a wife and mother, defined by my impact on others. It was a safe option, a boring option in ways. The other was unknown, uncertain. The other was to be on my own, in my little family of two.
I don't regret it. I don't know what next month will hold, and the more distant future is even more open. I may never find the man who fits into my world, and I've come to believe that that's alright.
I think.

2005-09-14T23:28:00.000-05:00

Our eyes connected across the room. He isn't someone I'd seen before at the bar. Not that I frequently go to bars- I usually get enough of that type of stuff at work. A few girls and I were having a night out though. A night out that didn't have to include us shaking our asses for $1 bills.
I'm used to being the aggressor in a way. It doesn't bother me to walk up to a man that I don't know and ask him if I can get naked for him, but some how the feeling is different if I want to get naked with someone.
He was someone I could get naked with. Thinner, more lanky then my usual taste, but with an interesting face and very attractive blue eyes. Tall, something I always like. Self-confidant.
Over the next half hour we played at bar room courting- assessing looks and smiles. He bought me a drink. We made small talk. I knew that behind our discussion of current happenings was a different vibe. That he wanted me and I wanted him.
One nice thing about going out with fellow strippers is that they know when to fade into the distance, when the presence of friends is no longer necessary.
It makes it easier to leave. To allow the moment to be all that matters.
Anonymous sex with a stranger is extremely satisfying for me sometimes. Usually there are so many expectations of my sexual ability and taste that I can't be unexpected, random, or just as playful as I'd like. I like to be free in bed sometimes.
If I know that I'll likely never see someone again, I can be as loud, as open, as real as I want. I like that.

Disclaimer

2005-09-11T12:43:00.000-05:00

This isn't meant about anyone in particular. That being said...
I do not see guys socially that try to pick me up in either my club or through the internet. Going on dates with men (alright, and sleeping with them) is a primary source of income for me. It is truely surprising to me the amount of men who have tried the "Well, I like you a lot/ think you are cool/ want to bone you, ect. but don't want to pay you." type of line. I either see men socially, or not. There isn't any way to jump from one category to the next. And the number of men who are in my social category is far less then the number of men that I consider in the 'not' category. These are the men who pay for my time.
Similarly, most times men who know me from the club don't have the option of seeing me as an escort. I don't like the two circles to overlap too far. It's inconvienient at times, but in the long run, it pays off.
I have enough clients that I am not currently soliciting business, in any capacity, on the internet. There are more people interested in seeing me then I am able to work in. I am very fortunate that this is the current state of affairs.
This means, though, that I am not currently interested in adding to my calender. Especially if there isn't money involved.
I am not a charity, and I don't give out coupons like a restaurant. I hate being a bitch, but that is how I have to be with some people. I have a going rate, and usually receive tips on top of that. An evening with me is not cheap.
Sorry to rant, I know it's irritating.

A Taste of Halima

2005-09-08T22:29:00.000-05:00

I'm not sure how to address it, so I'm not really going to, at least right now.
But my heart is with all of the people effected by Katrina.

2005-09-08T19:34:00.000-05:00

Onr thing that I dislike about sex work is that there is no such thing as a sick day. I have been sick- nothing life threatening or anything, but to the point where I didn't work- and I didn't get paid. It wasn't built into my salary. I'm going to have to pick up some more dates then I usually like to make up for it.
That's okay. Especially since I have insurance, that I pay for. Too many of the girls I know don't, and when they get sick, it's really tough to recoup the losses at times.
Definately one of the few disadvantages I've noticed about this vs. a 'real' job.

2005-09-01T10:36:00.000-05:00

Why is it that some of the most enjoyable sex is with people I can't stand? Shawn annoys me- he's arrogant and overly self assured. But he knows how to make me cum (nearly) as well as I do.
He knows that I love the way it feels to have my clit rubbed through my panties at first. When to bite, when to kiss me. He knows that sometimes a little pain will send me over the edge, sometimes I just want slow, sweet sex.
Too bad that as soon as I get off him, I just want him gone.
At least I get to choose how my time with him is- it's one thing that I do prefer about recreational sex.

2005-08-31T10:40:00.000-05:00

Why do I spell so poorly? It's annoying. If you catch a spelling mistake, tell me. That aside, I was looking at some of the searches that bring people in... someone found me by typing 'porography' into msn search. Imagine the surprise that there is no porn here!! I don't appear naked, I don't have other people's naked asses, and there are no monster cock pictures. It made me snicker, a little.
If anyone is here hoping for a naked picture of me, it's been pretty dissappointing, huh? The only naked thing here is my soul.
Sheesh.

2005-08-28T23:08:00.000-05:00

The club that I work at, as well as others from my past, have a certain rule that makes me irrationally irritated. After stripping and happily (or not so happily, depending)dancing topless and in a g-string on stage, we have to reenter the dressing room to put our outfit back on.
As if we weren't nearly naked thirty seconds ago, and grinding at the tiprail. It probably is some stupid code, but it's pointless.
Honestly, it isn't that big of a deal, but it bothers me. If I want to get dressed on the floor, or walk around in panties, then damn it, that should be my choice. Why do I have to undress, redress, and undress again for personal dances, ON THE FLOOR?
grrr.

2005-08-25T23:57:00.000-05:00

Is perfection attainable? Most things in me say no. At least to an absolute perfection.
There are moments when I think to myself, "This couldn't be any better." Does that make the moment perfect?
I've never had the perfect sexual encounter. And it sure isn't from lack of trying or lack of partners. Maybe I expect too much, but I feel like there is always just... more that I want. Even directly after orgasm... the feeling doesn't last.
Does this mean that I don't have good sex? Great sex? No, I don't think so. I know the moves, I know the right thing to do at the right time. I know what turns me on. And I (occasionally) get it.
I just feel kinda wistful. Like there is the perfect sex experience, and I'm just missing it.

2005-08-21T22:57:00.000-05:00

I don't talk with many people from before. By before, I mean before I was involved in sex work. I just don't have the common intrests and experiences with the that binds friends together anymore.
I do still talk to one woman- I'll call her Sue. We lunch together with the kids in tow every few weeks. We're both mothers, and that's where the similarities end. (this isn't about kids, I promise) Sue married young to a man that also went to our high school. They have two children, and a house with a mortgage.
What they don't have is sex. Not never, but not frequently at all. Sue and I talked about this yesterday.
She says that she doesn't have the drive, she isn't really attracted to her husband (I'll call him Jake), and besides, who has time to work, have kids, and still fuck like teenagers?
I think that this is absurd, I think it's sad. I work, I have a child, and I love sex more now then I loved it when I was seventeen. I love the tastes, the textures, I love seeing someone as they cum. Not to mention the pleasure I receive.
I don't know where this started, and I don't know why. Sue would be horrified if Jake was sleeping around (I'm not convinced he isn't, but whatever) and yet she doesn't think that she should 'have' to sleep with him. She doesn't understand that I enjoy sex. It's as if she's turned that part of herself off, and expects him to do the same.
She's also gained weight, which doesn't have to be bad, but she doesn't even seem to take a lot of pride in her appearance anymore.
This is, I think, a part of why she doesn't want to have sex anymore.
How can a relationship be successful without an active sex life? Should wives who don't stay attractive and sexual expect cheating?
What else can a man do?
I'd never take Jake as a client- I value Sue and her friendship. He is very similar to other men I see, however. It's not a unique situation.
I guess I don't understand. I expect all women to love sex, blowjobs, and just fun as much as I.
Bleh.

The Bullshit Factor

2005-08-18T09:14:00.000-05:00

Sex work is an industry where the bullshit level is high. Sky high. So many of the women (and men) involved that I have met are unrealistic, unreliable. They lie. Constantly.
There is a difference, to me, in providing fantasy and living in a fantasy world. I will, within reason, tell a man anything he wants to hear. There are many things I'll say or agree to in the moment.
I try to keep an edge of real life always present. You're married, and I'm only sleeping with you because I get money when I see you. Sure, come to the tip rail, I'm only stripping until some wonderful man appreciates me fully.
That was bullshit. But I think it's less harmless then the girl who is bullshitting herself that she isn't a whore, isn't an addict. Isn't whatever.
Equally irritating are people who aren't what they pretend to be. I know that you aren't the super rich CEO of some megacorp. It won't make me lust after you to tell me that you are.
C'mon people. Is it so bad to admit to the life that you really lead?

Excuse me, but no

2005-08-15T09:04:00.000-05:00

I had a new client piss me off this weekend. The men that I see are either through an agency (which I'm not regularly doing right now), regulars, or someone who is refered by a regular client. It makes me feel safer to do it this way, and my safety is something that I treasure.
This client, I'll call him Jerk, was refered by a man that I don't see real often. When I do, he is always polite and enjoyable to be with. Not so with his friend.
The evening started off well enough, but when he realized that I fully intended to get to know him over dinner, and wouldn't promise him sex, he became upset.
"For what I'm paying you, I shouldn't have to take you to dinner, as well."
I explained to him that not only was he NOT paying me for sex, he was paying me for my time, but that sex is not a promised event, especially on a first date. He became rather unpleasant, and I ended the evening.
It made me examine my business practises in regards to the escorting that I do. There are some escorts who do not sleep with clients. It's a strictly up & up situation where they provide company. There are escorts who use the term to mask the fact that they are prostitutes, and to skirt the issue of taking money for sex. Then there is the group I throw myself into. I don't escort as my sole means of support (gee, kids, I strip too. much classier), and I sleep with some men/clients. I expect to be paid for my time, and any sexual activity that occurs during that is not being paid for. It is by my choice. And if I choose to sleep with someone during a professional date, then I expect futher compensation. Not because I am a bitch, but because it's how I work. On top of that, most of the guys I keep seeing give me presents as well sometimes. It's like having a girlfriend that won't get upset if you don't call for three weeks, doesn't care if you check out other women on the date, doesn't expect emotional entanglement, and is open to most experiences. It's low pressure and usually ends in sex.
And it's completely satisfactory for my guys, and me.
So not, for what you are paying me, you do have to sit through dinner. And talk. If you want a $20 blow job, I am not your girl. There are people who cater to that, find one, and leave me alone.
Bleh.

2005-08-10T14:40:00.000-05:00

When I'm on stage, and the music is loud- I don't ever worry about how it looks to someone on the outside.
I feel how I think it should look. I think that I'm sexy, and the show I put on is in no small way for myself. Or, at least, what I'd like to see if I went recreationally to a club. The sweat, the glitter, the exposed flesh.
When I'm into it enough, the crowd doesn't matter. It's all part of the game, the show. I may stalk over, slide a leg onto the sholder of the man at the tip rail, and grind for that dollar. I may crawl, on my knees, and rub my tits in his face. It's only a dollar, right?
Those dollars add up, the lapdances add up quicker.
Does it add up, in other ways? Am I affected, do I even know how?
Most nights, I love looking over into the mirror. Seeing myself. Seeing men around me.
Seeing lust.
Most nights.

It's a calamity, I know

2005-08-08T13:29:00.000-05:00

There is a terrible addiction sweeping this area. Once hooked, the victims seem powerless to detox.
I speak, of course, of kiddie crack.
You know, cartoons. In particular, I'll share Caillou. This insidious, seemingly harmless cartoon is from Canada- that land of danger, Mounties, and government insurance. It features a strangely bald four year old boy whose father and mother don't appear to work. While it's on, my daughter can't tear herself away. I'm not even sure that she blinks. When it's over, she wants to do whatever Caillou did in that episode. Which is almost always impossible because they show winter episodes during the summer and visa versa.
Part of the evil plot.

On an unrelated topic, I have noticed that masturbation is more fufilling when I let myself make noise, but try to keep it quiet.
I've also noticed that I have regular hits from France. Not sure why, but bonjour, vous allez bien? Je suis desole pour les histoires ici. Et, j'oublie le francais. Merde.

I really am off and about today. What the hell? I'm not sure that nonsexual posts are read anyway. ANAL SEX. Eat that, Google.

Fun is fun is... lame

2005-08-07T23:06:00.000-05:00

Thursday night was dead. Obnoxiously, horribly dead. This happens, and there isn't always a corresponding reason. When it does, we usually sit around, bitch, and drink.
Thursday night was different.
Star, a girl that has been at this club for a few years ( I did say years) longer then me, had the brilliant idea of dancing- for ourselves. It isn't that strange to practise pole tricks when the club is empty, in fact that's what I was thinking about doing. It passes the time.
She meant, however, to dance, on the floor, to random music. She and I danced together to music that I never thought I'd shake my ass to. And it was fun. Star is a beautiful woman, and it was awesome to for a short while, pretend that we were in a regular bar, dancing for fun. I never do that anymore.
I get so sick of the performance, the dressing up ( and then down), that I don't do it on my off time. Unless I have a professional date, I like to wear jeans. T-shirts. I stay away from G strings (I also just stay away from underwear, but that's different).
So dancing with her let me pretend for a short while that I was dancing, just for fun. Just for me.
And I found out that I do still like it. Possibly even still love it.
And when Friday night came, I was on. I was hot. I had fun- and the money totally made up for how slow it'd been.
Sometimes, rediscovering the fun in the things we do all the time is good.

Where no one knows your real name

2005-08-04T13:31:00.000-05:00

Something about strip clubs makes men lose their inhibitions. As soon as they stroll through the doors, past the bouncers, and into the shadowy interior, the average hardworking, nice guy morphs into someone that his fifteen year old self could have been proud of. I believe that most men are secretly appalled when they compare what they thought life would be like, and what it is. Instead of large amounts of casual sex with hot women, all nighters drinking and gambling with the boys- they have a wife who let herself go after baby #2 (if not before), a mortgage, a job they despise that doesn't pay what they think they're worth, and an automobile more suited for a grandfather.
I know, I know. I'm stereotyping. Not all strippers are coked out hookers, not all men that come are disillusioned formed athletes. But stereotyping allows me to make this point, so bite me.
When these tired men enter the club (my club) they change. Some of that spark, that youthful arrogance, returns. I know it irritates some girls, but I don't mind. I'd rather a guy willing to embrace the fantasy that if he wasn't paying me regularly I'd still be sitting next to him, in a bar, acted thrilled.
For me, dancing is more then gyrations on stage and rubbing my tits on some man's lap in VIP. It's allowing men to dream that things did turn out the way that they wanted. That they can get the attractive woman. That the inner fifteen year old doesn't need to be ashamed.
We all need fantasy. I have mine, and I'm sure that you have yours.

So...

2005-08-04T00:29:00.000-05:00

A Taste of HalimaI want to say, I'm happy with where I am.
There's no life for me that is more right then the one I lead.
Real update soon.

Not always what I expected

2005-08-01T08:51:00.000-05:00

The first night that I escorted was scary for me. I'd been living out of my parents home for a little over six months, and the reality of supporting myself and my daughter was really clear to me. I wasn't getting help from anyone, I wasn't on public assistance.
Stripping was going pretty well by now, but I wasn't making the money that I am now.
I was scraping by until something with my daughter came up. I needed money, and quickly. I talked to a girl at my club that escorted, a girl that the others looked down on because she was a prostitute.
When you make your living based on your body, lines that you draw for yourself can be the way to excuse your actions, make yourself feel that you are okay. Many girls need these lines. "Yeah, I may be an 'exotic dancer', but at least I'm not a hooker."
She gave me the information for the agency, and I jumped through the minimal hoops that went into employment there. It isn't hard to get agency work. I was surprised.
Before going to my first client, I was scared. I'd only slept with one man before, I was 18, and I'd heard so many bad things about prostitution before. Who hasn't heard of girl's being killed?
Sex to me was still sacred, something that was done with someone you loved. I still believed in happily ever afters, that there was a man out there for me who would solve my problems. I suspected that a history of prostitution would disqualify me on some level for a white knight, but I didn't see another option.
So.
I went.
The experience was not bad, the man wasn't a serial killer (obviously). I didn't break down crying, but I didn't enjoy myself either. I had sex with a man old enough to be my father, and yet he was respectful and understanding. I know now that he was an extremely good client for a first client. I know now that he pays more to get new girls.
All I knew then was that at the end of a two hour block, I was $400 richer. He paid me well, even after the agency fees.
I went home, stared at the money, checked on my daughter, and cried. I knew then that I was fully out of my old life, that there was no going back. And I didn't regret it, really, but I didn't know if I was ready, either.

2005-07-27T22:45:00.000-05:00

This has nothing to do with stripping.
That being said, I love the movie the Boondock Saints.
Those men are hot. Not just the two brothers (tattoos on men make me want to screw them) but the Duke as well.
Where's a man like that in my life?

Sometimes surprise is nice

2005-07-26T14:46:00.000-05:00

Last night I had a date with a new man. Usually, I don't sleep with someone the first evening- I prefer regular customers to a one night fling. The first meeting is an interview of sorts. I get to know him, and he me. I try to figure out where there is enough chemisty between us for me to enjoy future encounters, or if it's just going to not work well.
I don't take on men that I think it'd be all acting with. That's unfair to both of us, I think.
James was incredible kind, and shy. I don't usually inspire shyness in my dates. I'm not an intimidating woman, nor am I so beautiful that I stun them into silence. James, however, seemed so nervous at first that I actually asked him if he'd like to cut the night short, and not even finish dinner.
He looked shocked, and told me that he'd rather not. Apparently he was having a fine time, and softly talking with me about his current life was what he wanted.
James is midforties, slightly paunchy, and balding. He hasn't made an attempt to mask the hair loss, which I respect. He had come from work, and was still wearing a suit. I liked his quiet manner, how after dinner he was unassuming that our evening would go futher.
I actually asked him if he'd like to continue the evening in a more private setting, and he agreed with a pleased smile. In his hotel room, he confessed to me that it had been quite a while since he'd seen a woman, and even longer since he'd been intimate with anyone. I asked him what he'd missed most, thought about most. He blushed, surprising me again. I don't know too many grown men who blush, although a surprising number of people are embarrassed when it comes to relating fantasy to another.
I was beginning to suspect that this was his first professional date, and that is fine. I didn't think that he was going to be aggressive and tell me what he wanted/ expected, but that is very difficult for some, especially since we hadn't had any previous time together.
I stepped forward, into his space, and gently kissed him, keeping it soft for a minute, then sliding my hands around his face. He lightly wrapped his hands around my back, and drew me nearer. I deepened the kiss, now expecting that I would be the aggressor this evening. Sometime I enjoy being in charge, leading where things will go. We kissed for a few minutes, with me running my hands over his neck and the front of his chest. I felt his hand go for the zipper on the back of my dress, and lower it. I helped him slide it off, leaving me wearing only stockings and my heels. I slid his jacket off, and went to remove his tie, but he stilled me hands. Instead, he gently pushed me down to my knees in front of him.
I was surprised that he'd gotten more assured, but pleased. I unzipped his trousers, and took him in my hand. With my other hand, I retrieved a condom from my purse, ripped it open and rolled it onto him. As soon as it was on, he pushed my face insistantly at his erection, and I easily took him in my mouth. he fisted his hands in my hair, and guided my head in a quick rhythm that took him all the way into the back of my throat, then almost out. It didn't take too long for him to come, and when he did he pressed my face into him so that if he wasn't wearing a condom he'd have spilled down my throat.
When he released me, he asked if I was alright, if he'd offended me. I told him honestly that he hadn't, that I was actually pleased that he'd gotten what he wanted.
Looking at his smile, I knew that the night would only get better, and I was not wrong.
Sometimes, I enjoy being in charge. Even more then that though, I enjoyed the way he let me think I would be, then took over. His confidance was incredibly sexy when he found it, and I look forward to future meetings with him.

Now that I've reentered the atmosphere

2005-07-25T00:33:00.000-05:00

I hadn't realized that I've been AWOL nearly two weeks. It amazes me how quickly time flies. Now that I'm back, I'll try to make up for it. (Note, this is code that this update will turn out to not only be lame, but poorly written
as well.)
I actually went to work four nights last week- this for me is an anomaly. Part of it is that I am working on a new pole trick, and the quickest way to maser that is by going in on a slow night and making an ass of myself. I have a huge bruise on my left knee from where I cracked the stage, but that isn't that atypical of abnormal. Girls that do more then spin on that shiny pole generally have/ have had bruised knees. I cover mine with makeup to avoid the beaten housewife look, as appealing as that is.
I think that the trick is almost in the bag- was that corny enough? Any time that I spin upside down, I'm a little nervous. My arms are strong, yes, but that floor is hard.
Since I was working more at the club then usual, I did less side work. Which means that I have gotten laid less then I am accustomed to, and I am (somewhat) peeved about it. Not that it's too big of a deal, but I miss the sex and the money. At this point, the sex is more on my mind.
Because of this, I have been masturbating more then usual. Since usual is daily, I fear that I am approaching a world record for female masturbation. I have it down to a science, where if I am rushed, or just want a quick orgasm, I need about three minutes. I am somewhat ashamed that I have timed this.
Anyway.
I had to start the enrollment process for school for my little girl, already. Hello, it's July. I didn't know that it began so early, but then again, I'm new to the whole school aged child thing.
Did that cut the sexy factor?
I did notice that since I mentioned anal sex in my last entry, the hits went (slightly) up. If you are here looking for hot anal sex stories involving sultry Arabic beauties and large dongs, I am very sorry. If I have time, I'll give you a few thrills some other day. For now though, penetrate wisely, use lube, and remember the kittens.

An ongoing issue

2005-07-17T23:11:00.000-05:00

Dear Men,
There are things that you do that I can't stand. Particularly in the relationship sector. These are not things I just need to 'deal with'- they are valid reasons why I will not be with you.
Don't call me your girlfriend after three or fewer dates. This is especially icky if it is after the first date. I have dated men for over a year before without considering myself their girlfriend. Think about this.
Don't repeated try to kiss me if I lean away, keep it as just a peck, or wipe my mouth after you touched your lips to mine. This should be obvious, but it apparently isn't. If I act like I'm not into it- it means that I'M NOT INTO IT.
If you straight out ask me for sex, and I equally as clearly say 'No.' it isn't a cute ploy to attract you more. It means that your penis will not be meeting my vagina, ever.
Don't assume that because I am sleeping with you, I am sleeping only with you, unless I have told you that. I sure don't assume it about you.
If I offer to pay, say thank you- not just yes or no.
If I introduce you to friends, don't assume that we'll all sleep with you, even if I am sleeping with one or more of them.
This isn't middle school, and keeping that in mind, the number of my past partners is my business alone. All that you need to know is that I'm negative. I've got the papers to prove it, and I expect you to have them for me to see, as well. No, I will not just take your word. As much as I want HIV or the clap... just no.
Chewing with your mouth open disgusts me. Seriously, it's not cute.
If you have facial hair, you do need to wash it.
Unless you are paying me for my time, don't act like I need to do anything that you want, when you want it. And if you are paying me for my time, special requests or acts need to be discussed before hand. Actually this applies to dates as well.
I am more then a pair of tits that walk. I have opinions just as valid as yours.
No, I don't need you to take care of me, marry me and take me away from all of this, or any variation on this theme.
Don't be gross on purpose. Not funny.
Fuzzy bunnies and anal sex,
Halima

Holier then thou, or something like that

2005-07-13T22:01:00.000-05:00

I am a snob. Most of the girls at my club who have been there long term- let's say more then a year- are snobs, as well. I don't mean that I drink with my pinky stuck out or that I tip people to pump my gas. I mean that I feel better then some of the girls at my club.
There is always someone who feels superior, and I don't kid myself that there aren't girls who look down on me. For one thing, I escort, and to many strippers that is taboo- dancing is okay, sex for money, not so much. Personally, I look down on girls who sleep with customers at/behind/ect the club. I really feel superior to the girls who work a week, then proudly label themselves strippers. (Yes, this happens, more then you think.) Some girls are seeing stripping as a super feminist move on their part. I think that it can be empowering, but I don't think you should dance just to say that you do- and it's your right.
I am also a snob because I sometimes feel superior to women who work 'decent' jobs, because it is proper, then complain that they can't support their family. Or, more irritating, use sex to get what they want and call it okay because they are married. Am I saying marriage equals prostitution? Nah, not really. But sometimes, the line seems shaky. Marrying someone for money? That's close, honey.
All that bizarre ranting was for a reason. Kinda.
You see, normally I am incredibly catty and cruel to new girls. It's almost a service- if they can't take it from me and the others, then this isn't the job for them. There are far worse things then a more experienced dancer telling you that you haven't earned mirror space yet.
However, a girl started not too long ago that I didn't torment, bitch at, or ignore. Something about her is a little different, I guess. Her 'stage' name is Bri, and that's anonymous enough for me, here. The first night I saw her, I couldn't believe it. Pretty, nervous Bri is a little sister of one of my high school friends. I knew Bri back before she hit puberty. In some ways I wanted to discourage her from dancing, in others, protect her. I grilled her, then called her sister. It seems that Bri is genuinely in college, and paying for it herself. I have decided to actually help her- for me that's rare. I usually hate doubles.
It's been a little weird dancing with a childhood friend's little sister, especially when I gave lap dances with her and she'd run her hands over my body. (In my club, guys are allowed very limited contact, but we can rub each other nearly as much as we please. Indiana is a huge hick state, at least in my part.) I am pretty sure that she has a crush on me, as well as cute lesbian notions about strippers.
We'll see how that turns out. I'm all for helping her, but not sure that letting her explore her sexuality with me or what ever it is she wants is so smart.
See, strippers have dilemas, too.

2005-07-08T23:41:00.000-05:00

When things in this world go so crazy, it makes me reconnect with my family. I go too long without contact, and it makes me kind of ashamed that it takes a terrorist attack to make me pick up the phone.
We used to be very close. My mom was my best friend. My carreer changed all that, and it's one of my biggest regrets about stripping/escorting. I regret that it made them do the things they've done, and I regret that I let those things erode our relationship.
So no sarcasm today, no poorly written smut.
Just me, saying that our choices in life are our own, and I will not quit sex work for anyone, but also that people need to look beyond things like that in their loved ones.
Aren't people more important then choices?

Different story, different time

2005-07-07T23:41:00.000-05:00

A Taste of Halima
One of my favorite guys was in yesterday. He comes and sees me almost every week, although some weeks he doesn't stay long. I'll call him John- because that's not only stereotypical, it strikes me as funny. Anyway. John does union work, is in his mid thirties, and has a wife that hasn't slept with him regularly in quite a while.
I think part of my appeal to him is that I am so different from his wife. They are white, working class people. From things he's said in the past, I think that his wife is prejudiced. For him, knowing that she'd hate his seeing me even more if she knew I wasn't white... it makes it that much more appealing. For me, it removes all guilt for fooling around with a married man.
You see, John comes in so frequently to see me at work because I also see him outside work. When he mainly wants talk and companionship, he and some of his friends come to the club.
When he wants something more, he calls me and we meet. I don't regularly escort with an agency, I've said that before. But I do have some regular 'boyfriends' who thank me for my time with donations.
Anyway.
Yesterday must have been not so fun at home because we had a date set for after work and he was in to see me while I was dancing. He only stayed for ten minutes or so, long enough to tip me and have a cigarette. Normally, I only see him at work or at a hotel- not both. It's okay, though. I like John.
I met him a little after midnight. A nice thing about a date after work is that I can leave early and not take a blow to my cash flow.
He met me at the door to the room he'd rented, and pulled me inside. I'd changed into jeans and a tank at work because I never leave in costume, and it was a good thing because those outfits are fragile, and John was rough pulling off my clothes. When I was naked, he pushed me down and grabbed my hair. I unzipped his jeans, and rolled a condom onto him. I slide my mouth over his dick and felt him shudder. We hadn't met for a few weeks before this and I suspected that he hadn't gotten any since. I gave him head for maybe thirty seconds before he pulled me away, up, and over to the bed. He bent me over, and entered me from behind. John's penis is average in size, but he knows how to use it pretty well. And some rough handling for me makes the experience better. I pushed my ass back at him, and he thrust as hard as he could. When he came, he collapsed on top of me.
I let him lay there for a few minutes, then pushed him til he got off. He was too heavy to stay on top of me like that.
I stayed for another hour, and we talked about his wife, their kids. I talked about my daughter. We cuddled. Simple things that his wife should give him, and choses not too. I don't sympathize with her much, and don't feel bad at all about taking his time or money.
Over all, for now I prefer stripping to escorting. I don't take either home with me, but I judge myself more for the one then the other.
Either way, I have no regrets, and many fond memories. And some good sex.

Some stripper beauty stuff

2005-07-05T19:48:00.000-05:00

Strippers look far prettier inside work then out, many times. Now before people slam me, it's not because they are ugly, it's all the work that we do.
Wait. Not prettier, maybe, but different. I have actually had people come in who know me well that don't recognize me. I think it is the clothes, and the 10 lbs of makeup completely covering my face.
So, how do I transform myself from Halima to Super stripper? The 1st time in a night, it takes about 30 minutes. As the night goes on, I add to the makeup/ do touch ups, ect.
So, any interest in my thrilling beauty process? See, I promise this blog will always be thrilling!
The first place to start is with a clean face. I use Proactiv- that stuff that you see in the goofy infomercials. I know, I know. Another dancer at my first club used it, and I love it.
After my face is clean, I moisturize, big time. I'm cheap with this- I use Olay.
When it comes to make up, I don't use foundation. This is abnormal for a dancer, but easier because of my heritage. My skin tone is dark natural. By that same token, I never go tanning and actually religiously wear sun screen. I don't need the light to darken me, and I don't want pre mature wrinkles.
I wear clear mascara, mine is a cheap brand called Jane. I get away with this because I wear fake lashes. I don't care what mascara girls claim to use, you don't get thick black lashes without wearing fake lashes. I just don't believe it when girls claim it's a new, super good mascara. There is a trick to wearing false lashes that some girls don't seem to get, though. First, curl your lashes like you normally would. Apply mascara, lightly. Then, once the falsies are on, curl the bottom part, with your eye lashes. It helps make it look less fake.
And please, don't wear them socially.
I use MAC lipliners and lip sticks. Match the colors, ladies. It isn't cool to have lots of contrast.
Brow liner is something I skip, but I do use brow mascara, just clear, to keep everything together.
Strippers also shave far more then most girls. Not only the armpits, legs, and bush, but any random body hair. How many girls outside adult realize that their butt crack is kinda furry? I don't know if this goes with what makes strippers attractive, or what, but you don't usually see furry strippers. Managment complains. A lot. Trust me.
Personally, I work 3-4 days in a row, then the rest of the week off. I don't shave much, I Nair all but my pinkest bits every night before work. Then, I don't dehair at all until I work again. I try to wax it all at least every month, just to keep it real clean.

Away from the makeup, the best hot girl trick for me before work is sex. Good sex. I have found that after a good lay I feel hot, and the confidance is super sexy. Men can tell when you feel good about your self.
If the prework sex isn't an option, do something that makes you feel hot. Or masturbate. I do that too. After work, though, I am never interested in sex.
Sorry, guys, pretending to be thrilled by you all night doesn't usually turn me on. The exceptions being some of my regulars, but that's a different story for a different time.
So, now you know why I'm so smokin' at work.
That's why I have men willing to pay me to wear little girl socks. Wait, didn't I tell that story yet? Next time, m'kay?

In the beginning, there were illusions

2005-07-05T00:41:00.000-05:00

Halima
Before I began stripping, I had a rather unrealistic outlook. I pictured a faceless, gorgeous woman, gracefully gyrating and swaying on a stage reminiscent of community theatre. I figured that clubs would be packed with attractive young men who would throw $20s and $50s at the stage.
This is not how I found it.
I don't know of any clubs that are like this.
I work for my money, without seeming to. For how much I bring in, I deal with a lot. There are the days that I look at myself, adn say no more. Sometimes it is difficult to bring together the pieces of me left after a hard night. The nights where no one is tipping, or at least not tipping me. Or where there is that grabby man that you actually debate whether or not to complain about, because his bill fold is thick and he liberally tips you for the 'privilege' of licking your neck.
In the light of the day it sometimes disgusts me that I go for that. Which is silly, I know, since in really lean times I have escorted.
That's another story for another day...
The moral of this disjointed rant- shaking your ass for dollars isn't as easy as you might think. Unless you have a really, really jiggly butt.

Harlot! Scarlet Woman!

2005-07-04T00:15:00.000-05:00

I ran into someone that I went to high school with today. She and I were talking, and the question of what I do for a living came up.
I am not a closet sex worker, and besides, I'm stripping right now, not escorting.
She was shocked. "I always thought that you were..." She said. She wasn't able to say it, but I knew what she meant. I live in Indiana, and it is a conservative place. She meant that I have 'loose' values. Yes, people around here worry about such things.
She told me that she'd never let her husband go to one of those places. That I should be ashamed. This attitude is actually common in women, from the feminists to the bible thumping housewives. That sex work, of any kind, demeans the women involved.
I won't say that it can't. Because it can, and it would be one sided to deny that. However, it can also empower women. I feel many times that at work I take advantge of the men far more then they take advantage of me.
I may shimmy around in a g-string. I may rub my tits in strangers' faces. In return I get money. Their money. I don't feel dirty, I don't feel oppressed. No matter how may times I am told that I do, or should, I don't.
Women on the other side of the fence often refuse to consider this, though. It's black and white that because they perceive this to be detrimental, it is.
I felt far more demeaned waitressing at I-hop as a teenager. Talk about letting people walk all over you for nominal tips! That, to me, is bitch work. I am not cut out to work and be bitched at for cold food.
Nuh huh. Not me.
Not that there isn't bitchiness in my industry. Most of it is internal though... other girl's cattiness. Strippers are some of the bitchy women I have ever met, myself included, but I love them for it.
After all, anyone who hairsprays their crotch at work deserves to talk some trash, right?

2257?

2005-06-30T08:44:00.000-05:00

A Taste of HalimaBriefly, since I am not a morning person...
This 2257 is unbelievable. I feel incredibly sorry for anyone who makes their revenue with online porn, since this appears to be an immense headache. I understand wanting to eliminate child porography, but I don't see how this will help with that. At all.
Here's a link to explain this better... http://freeinternetpress.com/modules.php?name=News&file=article&sid=3868
Thanks you, Mistress Matisse for that article.
Bleh. What is happening to free speech?

Back to work

2005-06-28T14:12:00.000-05:00

Well, I am officially super stripper again. The break was nice, because it reenergizes me for a fresh day of ass shaking wonderfulness. I also have more patience for the inevitable men who offer me absurdly small amounts of money to pull my g string over.
No, I will not show you pink for $10. I am not a full nide dancer, although I have nothing but respect for the girls that are. I don't know if I would feel comfortable doing that, somehow.
I've spent the last few years as a topless dancer, and so that is what I am secure with.
I am thinking that I may add another garter to my ensembles. For those of you not super familiar with entertainers, we usually (at least at my clubs) take our tips in garter. I wear one wrapped around my high heel (strangely, always the left one) and one on my right upper thigh. The first time someone tips me on stage for a song, the get to stick their fold up bill into my shoe garter. If they tip again, I let them slide it into my thigh one.
I do this for a few reasons. One, my shoe garter is less personal. It's hard for them to fondle me through my underwear when they are touching my shoe. Secondly, I do it because it keeps all of my money from building up in one place. Smart dancers periodically remove and consolidate their earnings, because too much money seems to dissuade tipping the same way that no money does.
If I add a new garter, it'll be on my left thigh, just to give some more variation. Does this sound tacky? I hope not.
Instead of mindlessly sitting on the internet, I really should go work out. Laziness on vacation is not a good way to keep in the kind of shape I need to be in. Dancing is hard work. It really beats you up if you don't keep up with it.
So... that is all.
P.S. I am on google now! How exciting! Maybe, that'll bring in some new faces when people search for porn, strippers, milf, and the dresden dolls.
If enough people make it to this site, I'll consider pictures. Consider.

Familial ties

2005-06-27T18:03:00.000-05:00

I just wrote out a long, insightful blog about how my parents reacted to my decision to dance. Blogger erased it, and I don't feel like rewriting it.
To summarize- they were upset. Hurt. They threatened to try to take my daughter.
Luckly, we have worked through this some in the years since. They still don't like it, but it has made me independant.
Financially as well as emotionally.
I may rewrite this at some point, because I am sure it is confusing as it stands now.

Patchouli and diapers

2005-06-19T20:10:00.000-05:00

Regular love

Successful entertainers learn to capitalize on their individuality. The girls that don't last, and don't consistently make money are those that try to fit the stripper stereotype. They give guys exactly what they think that they want. Usually this involves booty shorts and bralike tops.
I am not opposed to this style, and occasionally dress that way myself. However, it doesn't make me stand out. It doesn't give men any reason to choose me over the other girls dressed exactly the same way. In short, I think it's boring.
I am not some blonde bombshell (the only way I've ever been blonde is when I use a bottle of bleach first). The manager at my first club gave me advice that at the time seemed both offensive and idiotic. She told me that because I look 'ethnic' I should dress to play that up. She said that men really go for that. Now, I don't consider myself ethnic, and I don't feel that exotic, either. One of my grandmother's was Algerian, and from her I have inherited dark brown eyes, perma tan skin, and hair that if I would just leave it be that is so dark brown that it is almost black. The rest of my heritage is Euro trash- mainly Italian (which I think may also help the darker skin), and Irish. I think that I am more mutt then ethnic, but that is besides the point.
I do incredibly well with white middle class men when I go for the Cleopatra/harem girl theme. For one thing, it's different then a siliconed bottle blonde. It's a change.
One of my favorite regulars is a gentle fifty, about halfway through the graying purpose, and has been married for over two decades. His wife hasn't slept with him in ten years, but he loves he dearly. He has slowly told me about his life- he has been in sales, has three children, and one grandbaby. He like to pay for VIP just to talk, to have me act attentive. I think that in some ways, it's a variation on GFE. He has told me that he considered an escort service, but doesn't want the risk of disease and arrest.
His wife knows that he comes to the club, and from what I understand she lightly encourages it.
I prefer the older men- they are more respectful, well usually, and often tip better. In my experience the worst customers are youngish attractive men- the men that non industry people would think that dancers would love. They know that there is a possibility of an attractive woman hitting on them without the promise of money, so they seem to think that we should, too.
Personally, I'll stick with my regulars when I can. I like being able to sit, drink, and just listen.

Oh, how it irks!

2005-06-17T15:41:00.000-05:00

First off, I love the word 'irk'.
That was random, and irrelevant, but as seeing that this is my space here, it's fine.
What I am refering to is that I hate becoming attached to another person's blog, and having them change/delete it. I try not to spend that much time on the internet, maily because I have 50 million other things that require immediate action. Bills? Yeah. But when I do, there are blogs that I love to read. And when the point of the blog changes, I feel a little silly for being upset- after all, isn't the blog that person's venue for what they want to write about? Even still, I feel somewhat cheated.
Even more daunting is when an enjoyable blog that in no way has run it's course (in my opinion) abruptly ends.
It leaves me to wonder how that person's story (I mean life) ends up.
That being said, I will endevor to do neither of those things here...
of sourse, until I do.

I know that I haven't updated for a while, I have been on vacation and will be until next week. Picture me... faceless though I am, on a beach, sipping a chilly drink while my little attempts to rule the ocean. Bliss.

Is there a reason behind the blog titles?

2005-06-13T15:50:00.000-05:00

Patchouli and diapers
Really, what does patchouli have to do with diapers? For that matter, do either of these things really have anything to do with me?
It may not appear so, but both of these items are significant to me. Patchouli? Am I a silly, 40 year too late hippy? Nah, I don't think so. I do care about health, both for myself and the world around me, but I am not a tree hugger. I like organic food, but I have never ever had a garden. I say that I am considering an intentional community, but really I don't know that I am the type. I think that a group of people living together with common goals- sort of I succeed, you succeed, sounds utopian. I am not that zen of a person, though.
Patchouli is more then a scent I love, though. Even if I am not ever going to run away to one of those 'New Age' communes, it reminds me of the idealistic young girl I once was.
You should never forget who you were, and why you have changed. Patchouli is for my past.
Diapers? This one is a little more obvious. I have a child. Since the internet is so public, and I am a neurotic paranoid person when it comes to my little, I don't know oh much detail about her that I'll give. Diapers were a huge part of my life for quite a while, although not a part I miss. Potty training was incredibly fufilling- for me at least. Now the only butt I wipe is my own. That being said, being a mother is a huge part of who I am. It is the one part that I never want to change- the part that I never regret.
I realize the title of this blog may be slightly off putting. I realize that it may make it difficult to know what this jumble is all about. But since this is all about me, I think that any name I wanted is gravy.
On to other matters...
I received my first comment! Very excited! It was more then a two word good job, as well. So big thanks to Jane, and welcome to the thrilling world of Halima. I'll be adding your blog to my list, and I love reading other's thoughts.
I could make this blog primarily about rants and stripper stuff, but honestly, how interesting are strippers, really?
Wait, you say that it is kinda interesting?
Hm... I thought so, too, at one point. It was kind of a rebellion in some ways, starting the industry. I knew (kind of) that I would be forever setting myself a little outside of 'normal' society. I was okay with that, still am.
I love going to work. Most of the time. More then that, I love getting ready for work. Somehow, I love shaving and waxing, picking out outfits, putting on fake lashes.
It really amuses me that I spend so much time not only in high heels, but 6 or 7 inch high heels. In high school, I always wore Chuck Taylors, Docs, or flip flops. I couldn't even walk in heels. I got hired by a club, bought my first pair of heels, took them home, and started laughing.
Learning to walk in them was time consuming, and not pretty to watch at first. I think the only money I made my first night (it was also a Monday.. gah!) was pity money, and mainly from the more experienced girls.
Here I am now, fully capable of running in shoes I once couldn't stand in.
I'm sure that there is a metaphor for life here, somewhere.

Contra what?

2005-06-10T23:00:00.000-05:00

At times I notice that there are a few very different 'me's.
There is the mom me, who religiously reads food labels in search of no-no items. She is a pretty wholsome character, and I am occasionally squicked by her actions. Using spit to clean a toddler's face? Eww. I hated when my mom did that to me. She also is pretty strict about silly stuff like bedtimes.
Next, there is the me that I like to call Halima- the one with hobbies, interests, and a decidedly eclectic wardrobe. She is such a fan of the dresden dolls, knotty boy, and relationship attempts.
I'm not going to get super boring and list out all of my pseudo personalities, just one more. I'll call her Honey Girl. She is the sex kitten, glitter whore that goes to work, is capable of stomaching multiple jager bombs while wearing tall shoes, and shamelessly leads men (and the too rare woman) on. She loves nothing more then to flash a cloyingly sweet smile at some poor sap who only wants to see her rub that g-string right in his face. She is the inner partier, and has a real raunchy sense of humor that would probably be better suited to an overweight trucker.
Strangely enough, I don't have conflicts with the various parts of my life, nor do I feel the constant need to compartmentalze myself to death. I am what I am, and it's part of personal security loving all of myself. Which I frequently, enthusiastically, do.

2005-06-08T22:51:00.000-05:00

There are times where I wonder where I would be had I chosen a different path. I got pregnant very young, and when I turn 18 decided that stripping was the best way to support my tiny little.
It was easier if I told myself that it was for her. Really, though, it was for myself.
I have learned more about my personal boundaries, preferences, and gained more experience in just living then man people my age.
Being naked around others, especially when those others are clothed, really lets you examine yourself. It isn't only your body that is stripped bare in the spotlight.
Poeple who have never worked in a so-called adult capacity don't really seem to understand what motivates a person to let other's use their body for sexual gratification. I have heard it be called disgusting, degrading, chauvanistic.
I think it can be, but so can something as simple as waitressing. I'd rather shake my tits in your face for a tip then try to get you the perfect hamburger.
Now that I am comparing my body to food items, it's time to leave this idea, before it gets even cornier.

Sometimes...

2005-06-05T19:59:00.000-05:00

There appear to be two extremes in dancers.. those who bank and those who are broke.
Hear me out, here.
There is the head girl- that beautiful, toned, bitchy woman who can do pole tricks with her eyes closed, while on ecstasy, and makes more money then a neurosurgeon. However, she invariably has numerous drug/boyfriend/legal issues that help her spend the money as fast as it comes in. She is therefore a dancer who banks but is consistently so broke that she has to frequently come in to work. This hones her ass shaking abilities even further, gains her more regulars just because she is there, and earns her more money. This is the type of girl that ends up as a carreer stripper.
Then there is the girl who shows up maybe once or twice a week. She goes about her work with a minimal amount of drama and backstabbing, is ok as a dancer, and makes enough that it beats a shift at McDonalds. She does not plan on stripping forever, and is possibly going to school. She either saves her money or spends it on things directly related to getting out of the industry. While she may appear broke, in the end she banks because she has something besides incredibly strong ankles to show for the time she stripped.
I have the upmost respect for either of these types of entertainer. I am not looking down on either. I realize that this is a horrible generalization (isn't that what makes it fun?).
All of that being said, I used to be the first type and am now more of the second. I work more then a day or two a week, and I can still climb the pole and undulate upside down. But I am so incredibly tired of the drama, and look forward to the time where dancing is just a faint memory.

Patchouli and diapers

2005-06-04T21:54:00.000-05:00

Patchouli and diapersNow, I am no spokesperson for the kink community. All I know is that the ill advised actions of a few make all of us look bad. I watched America's Most wanted tonight (yes, I am that cool) and there was a man featured who was heavily involved in kink. Apparently he had sexual intercourse with a four month old baby girl. The site is down right now, but anyone who reads this and is the slightest bit kinky should check out www.amw.com and click fugitives. His name is Michael something or other. They said that the easiest way to recognize him is by his extreme sexual behavior.
I am all for extreme behavior so long as it is safe, consensual and sane activity.

Patchouli and diapers

2005-06-03T22:21:00.000-05:00

Patchouli and diapers
The just world hypothesis states that victims have a hand in their problem. This includes the woman who is raped (she dressed too sexy), the man who was murdered (well, he was cheating on his wife), and the many other situations where people are victimized. I disagree with this idea. I think it is only so popular because it is subconsciously more comfortable to believe that they had it coming.
Things happen daily to people for no apparent rhyme or reason.
People can invite trouble, however. And many people do.
This is also where the double standard heavily weighs in. A man that is attacked is much easier to excuse then a woman. Sympathy is rarely shown anymore.
The state of people makes me sad, and apprehensive about the world my daughter will inherit.

ooo comments, where o where are you?

2005-05-30T19:57:00.000-05:00

Patchouli and diapers
One wonders how long until people stroll by, are amazed by the sheer lack of a point, and move on.
Today, I walked to the local Indian market. My daughter loves stroller rides, and there are few forms of exercize I enjoy. Walking is one. I also enjoy not needing a car, but not using public transportation.
The buses here are filled with an odd combination of hillbilly and thug that makes me very uncomfortable. I either have a man old enough to be my father calling me purty and trying to see down my shirt or a hip hop thug just staring.
When I looked more freakish (read multicolored dreadlocks or shaved head) people mainly left me alone. Unless, of course it was to call me names or ask rude questions.
I'm not sure which I prefer. People trying to pick me up in gross ways, or people thinking that I am weird.
I thought, once a pon a time, that being a mother would dissaude people. Boy, was I wrong.

Bargain shopping

2005-05-30T14:24:00.000-05:00

Patchouli and diapers
If there was ever a love-hate relationship between a person and a store it would be Wal-Mart and I. I love the cheap prices, convienience (anyone with a small child can attest to the fact that Wal-Mart's layout, wide product availability, and toy departments make shopping a lot easier then a small whole foods market where things may be temptingly on the floor), and how close it is to my home. I hate the damage to small business, the corporate mentality, and the fact that they sell edited music.
On the other hand, I have no reservations about KMart. Sure, the quality can't compete, and it's hit or miss what you'll find. I just like the poor cousin feel that it has. Although, I have heard they are going out of business or some such nonsense. Let's save KMart, people. All the fun of Wal-Mart, non of the world domination guilt.
Also, both of these places allow me more bang for the buck, sans coupons. Rock.

Ooooh brand new!

2005-05-29T20:20:00.000-05:00

New blogs have that new car smell. Not really of course, since this is online and all you smell is your computer area... and not that I've ever had a new car. I'm just so gash darn excited! I will keep up with this one. I promise. It'll be beautiful.