Flashback: 11 & 12-Feb-2017 – Getting Giggy with it

After the putative January 2017 ghosting episode with PG, I had a big, fat sad. I swore off men and sex forever and ever…and then…? I got a bee in my bonnet and decided that the last guy I fucked would NOT be the nasty Boston guy. Oh, hell, naw!!! I would get a man who would pay attention to ME, who would be hot as fuck, and who would not ghost me. Dammit. So….I booked a damned gigolo for my upcoming Vegas trip. I now seem to have developed a gigolo addiction. Don’t you judge me, dammit. How else can I get material for my blog for you voyeurs/perverts to read? Here we go…

Let me just refresh the memories of those from FT and give a little context to those who are new here.

On 11-Feb-2017, this happened:

As of about 20 minutes ago, I was informed that my date for tomorrow night can’t make it.

Yes, that’s right, y’all. I am being stood up by a #gigolo…a man who is being paid dearly to dote on me for a couple of hours.

His agent said his family is surprising him for his birthday by flying in on Sunday. Can I move to today? Um, sure, no problem…except that now I have to figure out a hotel situation since I reserved my own room for tomorrow night, not effing tonight. Fine. His agent says he’ll ask Giggy and get back to me.

A few minutes pass…Except…now his family is arriving tonight, so he has to pick them up at the airport. Of course he does…because how else could the family POSSIBLY get from the airport to another location in Las Vegas, right? I mean, there are no limos, taxis, or Uber at LAS.


Hmmm…agent trying to make tomorrow work…except…now it would likely be a daytime date. Isn’t that charming? It isn’t bad enough that I have to PAY a man for his companionship, but now I have to meet him in the middle of the afternoon…and where? Who knows? I might not be able to get into my new room tomorrow without giving a handy to someone at the front desk.

Now I am waiting for the agent to contact me about tomorrow. It’s been about a half hour. Clearly my date will be totally thrilled to see me since I am the one taking him away from his family on his birthday.

Eff my entire life right now.

…so things finally got figured out and then? See below for the 12-Feb-2017 antics…

Where shall I begin?

I shall call him Giggy, short for Gigolo.

Wardrobe: Black jumpsuit – Note to self: Gain at least 60 pounds or seriously consider altering jumpsuit again before wearing it. I wore sparkly silver shoes with over 5-inch heels because the Manolos were not tall enough for the woefully oversized jumpsuit. Black lacy thong and nip-exposing matching bra. Hair down and curly, red lipstick, and enough mascara to make Tammy Faye Bakker proud.

At a little before 1:00 p.m., I ventured to the hotel lobby with a birthday card and bottle of wine for my date. I was a little concerned when he was not there promptly at 1:00, but a nice lady from Wisconsin (#ohya) kept me company while I texted with his agent to confirm where the hell he was. Giggy was parking his car in the cluster fuck that is Las Vegas hotel parking. I promised Wisconsin lady that I’d be sure to parade him in front of her so that she could sneak a peek.

I finally spotted him walking in my direction, so I teetered over to him and said, “Giggy?” He smiled, hugged me, and kissed me on the cheek. He thanked me for being so flexible – heh…he’d soon learn just how flexible I actually was. He hugged me a few more times, apologizing for all of the confusion about our meeting.

Damn. He smelled good. He wore a tight black t-shirt with his muscular arms on full display, jeans, black shoes, and sunglasses. Good teeth. Well groomed. He had a little scruff on his face like George Michael back in the day. (Why am I so obsesssed with George Michael??) He was carrying a dozen red roses (only the second time I have received flowers from a man…that’s a whole other kettle of fish), an apology for the last-minute confusion of yesterday. Wisconsin lady gave me an enthusiastic, smiling thumbs up.

I mentioned that I hadn’t eaten all day and he suggested that we get lunch, his treat. Well played, Giggy. Roses and food? That’s how you start to make amends. We walked out to the valet and he helped me into his big black truck and he took the opportunity to put his hand on my big ass to give me a boost. He gave me a kiss before we started on our drive. We drove south on Las Vegas Boulevard. I had never gone father down the Strip than Mandalay Bay, so I was excited to see someplace new. He was proud to tell me all about the sites and we talked about other stuff as well. Giggy asked me about how I found him and what made me contact him. Oh, he also thought that he was older than me. Bless his heart.

He touched my thigh and my arm a few times and then he put my hand into his lap. I didn’t do the deed while driving, but I did get a good feel for what was to come. I was pleased with his #peen offering.

We headed to a local sushi restaurant that he clearly must visit at least now and again. He was heartily greeted by the staff. The restaurant was deserted. He asked what I like and then he ordered for us both. He excused himself to use the restroom and I checked out my phone. It was blowing up! My friends were in a texting frenzy! “OMG OMG OMG” “Are you dead?!?!?!” “Send pics. Immediately. If not sooner.” “What are you doing now, you filthy slutbag?” “He should be wearing you like a hockey mask.” “I need details, you slaggy twat!” “You are such a cunt. WHAT IS HAPPENING?!?!?!?!” I have good friends who are supportive of my slut-a-rific adventures.

He got back to the table and he spilled the tea about the show (Gigolos on Showtime). We had really good conversation and delicious food. He had ordered a spicy tuna hand roll for me, another hand roll for him, sashimi (tuna, salmon, yellow tail), and another roll. The food was delicious and I should have paid attention to exactly where it was. Afterward, I mentioned that I felt like I had something in my teeth and he checked…and then I checked his. All clear! I said something about us smelling all fishy now and he said he’d get some gum at a drug store.

He paid the check and we were on our way to the CVS. As he pulled into the parking lot and into a parking space, I asked what Terrible’s was. It was a car wash. “I have an idea,” said Giggy with a smile, and he backed out of the parking space and pulled around to the car wash. He put his debit card into the machine and I bent over and took his dick into my mouth as we went through the car wash. Oddly, I had never done that before, so there is another thing crossed off my list: car wash #beej. After the car wash, he pulled into a parking spot and popped into CVS to get gum and #condoms. Of course, I came prepared with my own supply. It is what a #slut does.

I took the opportunity to look at the debit card that he left in the car and saw his full name. I also did a quick check of my make up and found that my lipstick hadn’t moved even with a sloppy car wash blowjob. I’m a woman of talent. #hoskills #holivesmatter

On our drive back to the hotel, I finally saw the “Welcome to Las Vegas” sign! I have been going to Vegas since 2003 and never saw it till today. We didn’t stop for a pic, but I did snap a good shot from his truck.

We got back to the hotel and he parked in the garage. We began our long walk to my room, me teetering on those heels and carrying roses like I was Miss America. He offered his arm to steady me on the long walk, which was charming. I felt like everyone was looking at me and thinking, “Yep, she totally had to pay for him.” Why, yes. Yes, I did pay for him, you poor person. Do shut up and go back to your boring vanilla world, please, and let me go fuck my man whore.

When we got back to my room, things went a little crooked for a hot minute. I suffered a wardrobe malfunction and got trapped in my jumpsuit – stupid belt thing knotted. I had to slink out of the bathroom to have him extricate me from my black, stretchy prison. He obliged and we were off!

I put on my “music to bone to” mix and it was on, y’all! There was kissing (something I can live without) and dirty talk (something I require). I was surprised (and quite pleased) when he slid his cock into my ass. I did not expect that, but I was pleased that was in his repertoire. He also followed direction well and did some other things that I really wanted him to do, including taking a few photos of the goings-on for sharing with PG.

I now feel that my palate, as it were, has been sufficiently cleansed of the guy in Boston. Praise Jeebus. Also, it would not be the last time I’d encounter Giggy…

…and always remember: Ho is life, y’all!

Sluttily yours,
#notesfromaslut #honeytoes #hoislife

4 thoughts on “Flashback: 11 & 12-Feb-2017 – Getting Giggy with it”

  1. Giggy almost seems tame now, compared to Master and Man Bun. The whole mental thing with Man Bun fascinates me – how you juggle a ‘safe’ word without it somehow dulling the ‘edge’ of the experience.


  2. In terms of intensity, PG is at the top of the pack; however, he’s not texting back, so he is possibly done with me. Stay tuned. Next intense? I think it is a tie between Man Bun and Master, but for different reasons. Giggy is bringing up the rear, but has potential…though I am not sure I will engage Giggy again over Man Bun. And…if I am in Vegas and Master is available, I’d choose him over Man Bun.

    If anything, having a safe word makes things MORE intense because there’s that safety net lurking in the background as you’re getting choked out. 🙂


  3. Now that’s interesting. Just when I thought I might be figuring it out….

    I haven’t gone there in bed. I have rock-climbed. I’m terrified of heights, so I’m always on a rope with a seasoned climber, the equivalent of my ‘safe’ word. However, when I’m hanging on a face, scared shitless, I honestly forget the rope is there. At some level, I know all I have to do is let go and the rope will catch me. I can yell to my partner to yank the rope hard so I can ‘sit’ on it. But when I’m shaking like a leaf, I’m so in the moment that knowledge that the rope and safety are there slides to the back of my mind. It doesn’t really take the edge off my fear.

    It sounds like you are experiencing something more subtle and nuanced.


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