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Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Politics. Escorts. Blackmail.
Did I catch your attention with the header above? Well author Pynk is catching attention and much more with her release today of POLITICS. ESCORTS. BLACKMAIL. It’s my pleasure to participate in her Guilty Pleasures Tour announcing the release.
This erotica fiction is a story of extortion and coercion through the intense story of Madam Money Watts while exploring the call-girl industry as it spills over into the world of politics in New York City. Money's exclusive, top escort service operates under the name, Lip Service, and Midori Moody, Leilani Sutton and male escort Kemba Price are her high-end contractors who make a hefty living out of sex for money.
Among her clients are two New York senators who are the very officials voters have elected to make decisions for others to abide by, yet these politicians play by a different set of rules, secretly paying top dollar for the forbidden girlfriend experience. But when a client takes it too far, and an escort gets greedy, the world of Money Watts is brought to a head. Pynk, who also writes as Marissa Monteilh, is a former model, television news reporter, and commercial actress. Born and raised in Los Angeles, she now resides just outside Atlanta, Georgia.
With today being the release date, Pynk is busy today hosting a LIVE Twitter Party for POLITICS. ESCORTS. BLACKMAIL. The party includes a Q&A and book giveaway. Readers can follow Pynk @authorpynk and @grandcentralpub to participate in this exciting event.
Since Pynk couldn’t join us today, her protagonist Madam Money Watts was kind enough to fill in for her. Money joins us to talk about “The Girlfriend Experience” and also share an excerpt from PEB. High-five to Pynk for taking you on a journey into the world of sex for money in POLITICS. ESCORTS. BLACKMAIL., a novel about politicians and celebrities who frequent the services of New York escorts. My name is Madam Money Watts, and right off the bat I want to make this perfectly clear; as far as sex for money, while my company, Lip Service, has indeed accepted money from some very high-profile, powerful, wealthy clients in exchange for Lip Service contractors to "escort" said clients by spending private time with said clients, I have never accepted money for sex. Let's get that straight first. These are consenting adults, and what happens between two grown people, should stay between two grown people. So, on to the purpose of this blog post . . . Pynk has informed me that the working title of POLITICS. ESCORTS. BLACKMAIL. was The Girlfriend Experience. She was intrigued with the term girlfriend experience, also known as GFE in some circles (clears throat), and she asked if I would share my knowledge of it, and I happily agreed (not that the definition fits any particular goings-on at Lip Service, mind you). Anyway, here we go - the term "girlfriend experience" is not a new term. It's been around for years, though it was used quite often when the sex scandal broke about the former governor of New York, Eliot Spitzer, who allegedly paid for high-priced prostitutes, one of those women being Ashley Dupre. A girlfriend experience is a pay-for-play connection between individuals that gives the illusion of intimacy between the two. From the outside, those who'd observe the couple would easily assume that they were an item, committed, and in love. GFE is a term used to describe the sexual lifestyle preference of a client who pays for a high-end call girl, wanting the escort to play the role and act like she's his woman, sometimes in bed, which I know nothing about, and sometimes out of bed, sometimes both - imagine that. It can involve meals together, holding hands, hugging, talking - more personal interaction and public displays of affection. In bed, I'm told it could mean snuggling, conversation, deep French kissing, sometimes spending the night, foreplay, romantic music. If the escort is a male, the term is "boyfriend experience," or BFE. From what I hear, there's also a term called "porn star experience," or PSE, as in the type of sex you'd see in XXX-rated movies. It's supposedly less about feelings and more about the performance. Based on the GFE theory, Pynk has given me permission to share a scene from chapter two of her novel, POLITICS. ESCORTS. BLACKMAIL., very loosely based on Lip Service, that involves an escort named Midori Moody. Bless Midori's heart, she's yearned for a "normal" life with a man who could save her from her profession. To her, to have the husband, kids, and white picket fence, with two dogs, Lassie and Rin-Tin-Tin, is only fantasy. But in the meantime, there's this amazing, yet married, Long Island doctor who shows her a real good time in Florida; enough of a good time to distract her from her belief that any man who'd ever be attracted to her would never see her as virtuous enough to marry. And so, enjoy the below excerpt as Midori fulfills the Long Island doctor's GFE fantasy. And be nice to Midori Moody because in the book, and in real life, she's my little sister. As a disclaimer, please note that I cannot be responsible for the fictional words of Pynk. She's always making up something. She has such a way with words, in fact, she convinced me that this story had to be told, not to glamorize the business, but to paint a picture of what can happen if said clients have sex with said escorts, and allow you to be a fly on the said escort wall. Get ready to be eroticized Pynk-style, because . . . there's hot, there's red-hot, and then there's Pynk! (Pynk told me to say that). Ciao! Madam Money Watts Midori’s trip the previous weekend with the Long Island doctor to the Florida Keys was spectacular. She wasn’t even mad at her sister for assigning the booking to her. Turns out the client wanted the GFE, or girlfriend experience, as opposed to what most of the men who paid for her services wanted—the PSE, or porn star experience. The PSE was usually freakier and definitely more expensive because it involved sex that was more hardcore.
The Long Island doctor, a.k.a. Mr. 81, who was in his fifties, paid top dollar for someone to simply be the girl next door, doing what some girlfriends do. Be his willing, feminine, sexy trophy. No drama allowed.
For a moment, while with him, Midori had actually forgotten she was a working girl and fell victim to the allure of the imaginary romance he was trying to portray for his own reasons. No one on the Florida Keys island knew who he was, unlike in the city, where he was often recognized. The two of them were incognito, holding hands, pretending to be a couple though having just met. While she fulfilled his fantasy, she felt cherished and got lost along the white sugar sand beaches with spiraling coconut palm trees, under powder-blue skies in mid-eighty-degree weather. He fulfilled her heart’s fantasy without even knowing it.
The first evening was like a true date. They met at the restaurant called Shor. After dinner, he walked her to her own two-bedroom suite, and he went to his. They exchanged nothing more than a good-night peck on the lips.
The next day after breakfast, he took her shopping at the local boutiques and bought her formal evening wear, a sapphire bustier with a matching thong, skimpy lingerie, and a tangerine bikini. They went parasailing and scuba diving on the private beach. That evening they enjoyed a cozy dinner cruise at sunset and danced the night away like newlyweds.
Later, in his hotel suite, after sipping expensive champagne and feeding each other chocolate-dipped strawberries, she allowed him to live out his desires: French kissing, expert cunnilingus, her riding him until she had an orgasm, or three, and then him mounting her until he got his, all to the sounds of smooth, baby-making jazz. Then, after about an hour’s worth of pillow talk, she went to her hotel room, floating on cloud nine.
He was the head of thoracic surgery at the University Hospital of Brooklyn, and if Taye Diggs had an older brother, he would be it. He had dark skin, white teeth, a bald head, and he was sexy but he acted like he didn’t know it. He was a leading, esteemed surgeon who mended hearts for a living. But it became obvious to Midori that he was trying to survive after having his heart broken.
After the throes of deep sex, while holding “Brooklyn,” her escort name, in his arms, he shared with her: “My wife is cheating on me. I don’t want to give her half, since we didn’t sign a pre-nup. After twenty-two years, we’re in a sexless marriage. It all comes down to the fact that it’s cheaper to keep her. So instead of having a chick on the side who wants more, I hire an escort every now and then. But I’m never with the same girl twice.”
Midori gave a smile but frowned inside. In her mind she snapped her fingers, Damn.
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