My FHM article on escorts was published in the June 2008 edition. That’s the one with Ehra Madrigal in the cover. If any of you get to read it, I would love to hear your comments.

A reader had commented on a post, basically saying that PSPs and the patronage of sites are immoral acts and are further contributing to the deterioration of society.

To which my response is: Who assigned YOU to be the moral police?

I asked a few people what acts to they consider as fundamentally immoral. They mentioned murder, rape, adultery, child abuse. I further inquired why such acts were immoral. They answered that these acts are immoral because they clearly infringe on the rights of others. In other words, there is clearly a victim in such acts.

But what about prostitution? Who is the victim in prostitution?

Is it the client? I don’t think so. He paid for a service and he received a service.

Is it the PSP? I also don’t think so. Unless coerced in the world of flesh trade, she has willingly and voluntarily chosen that way of life.

I know some moral pundits will say that the PSP is the victim because she had no choice and that poverty had forced her into that life. In that case, shouldn’t it be poverty then that should be considered immoral?

There is the stereo-typical PSP, the one that was scammed into the seedy world of prostitution, brought to the metropolitan with promises of wealth and comfort, only to discover that the bed she will lie on is not one of roses. We see this stereo-typical PSP in movies, books, TV shows, and sensationalistic news articles.

I, on the other hand, have experienced the PSPs of massage parlors, KTVs, and escorts. The great majority of them have consciously chosen that way of life. Yes, they are not proud of it. Yes, it’s a hard path to take. But it doesn’t make it immoral.

So I want to know: If one person finds prostitution immoral, what exactly makes it immoral? Please tell me who is being affected, whose rights are being violated, who is being hurt or who is being deceived.

I got this email a few days back:

I am paranoid because I think I have HIV. I had sex with a woman a month ago, and now I have a flu. I read in the internet that the first symptoms of HIV is similar to a flu. My question is, when you were young, was there a point in your life when you got paranoid? What did you do? And, did you ever have STD? Is it normal to have to if you have sex a lot? What did you do, and did you stop having sex with a lot of people? Thank you. I am 17 years old and very paranoid.

First of all, I have always been somewhat paranoid. I frequently imagine the worst case. And in a life of sex and pay-for-pleasure, one scenario that never fails to cause me dread is HIV. That is why I always bring and use a condom. I bring a condom when I meet an escort. I bring a condom when I go to a KTV.

When I am with a PSP, I refrain from any swapping of bodily fluids, which would mean no heavy kissing and no partying at the Y.

I also watch my health. Exercise for me is not just about improving and maintaining performance in bed, it’s the first defense against infections.

Hygiene is important to me. After the act, I always take a shower and I make sure that I throughly wash my privates. In a KTV, I always have those alcohol-laced tissues. A doctor-friend once advised me as well to pee after sex as the urine can flush out bacteria and other infectious agents.

My partner also has to be conscious of personal hygiene. If she isn’t, then alarm bells start ringing in my head. She has to look and smell clean.

And lastly, I have regular health checks.

As a result, I am in good health. I have no problems with blood pressure and cholesterol. And I never had an STD. I attribute this to good health, good hygiene, plus a good supply of condoms.

You have to admire this guy’s gall. He was married and having a mistress and lying to both at the same time! Actually, his excuses and tales of deceit are quite impressive. This should be considered essential reading for those married men who are considering to live a double-life.

Here are the lessons learned from Vice Adm. John “Boomer” Stufflebeem . . .

How to get sympathy and get laid all in the same night:

During a drinking version of Truth or Dare, he told her and a group of White House staffers that his wife had died years before of breast cancer. He later asked if he could come to her room to give her a back rub, and that night, they had sex for the first time.

The best excuse if the mistress calls and the wife answers:

She described another time when she called Stufflebeem’s home at Bolling Air Force Base because he was late for a date. She said Stufflebeem had told her that a “nanny” babysat his two daughters when he was away.

“So I called and talked to (his wife) and I asked where he was, and she said he was on an overnight training mission or something, so he did wind up coming to spend the night that night. I told him I called the house. He said, ‘Oh really? What did she say?’ And I just relayed the story and it all seemed, you know — it didn’t seem to make him nervous or anything at the time, looking back.”

Best excuse for wearing a wedding ring:

And when the woman saw Stufflebeem’s wedding band, he told her he wore it because his two daughters were overwhelmed by his wife’s death and did not want him to take it off.

Classic!

There are times when a girl is shy and demure at first. Then she gets drunk. At that state she begins to exhibit wild, wanton behaviour. She paws at me. And sometimes I wonder what triggers such behavior: Is it really her or just the alcohol?

From the NY Times:

In a series of studies in the 1970s and ’80s, psychologists at the University of Washington put more than 300 students into a study room outfitted like a bar with mirrors, music and a stretch of polished pine. The researchers served alcoholic drinks, most often icy vodka tonics, to some of the students and nonalcoholic ones, usually icy tonic water, to others. The drinks looked and tasted the same, and the students typically drank five in an hour or two.The studies found that people who thought they were drinking alcohol behaved exactly as aggressively, or as affectionately, or as merrily as they expected to when drunk. “No significant difference between those who got alcohol and those who didn’t,” Alan Marlatt, the senior author, said. “Their behavior was totally determined by their expectations of how they would behave.”

In a repeat of the session performed for a coming documentary, one participant insisted that she could not have been drinking because alcohol always made her flush.

“We told her that, yes, in fact she was drinking it,” Dr. Marlatt said. “She immediately flushed.”

I find this quite fascinating. It may not be the alcohol but the perception that she was drinking alcohol. If she went all-out raunchy, could she claim alcohol as an excuse? It would be an interesting experiment to serve just mere tonic water and see what happens….

One needs to be in good health to enjoy and give good sex. Case in point: A recent rendezvous with a fubu proved to be a marathon session. She had just moved into a new condo unit and she wanted a proper “blessing.” She had ordered a few plates of Japanese sushi and, to my surprise, a bag-full of balut. I brought the Chilean Gato Negro and two goblets. I always like a touch of romance before the romp.The whole occasion was long-winded. It probably lasted for an hour and it involved multiple positions in multiple locations. Perhaps it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the lack of blood coursing through my brain (it was somewhere else, if you know what I mean), but I vaguely remember the sequence of events. I know we started in the bathroom where we showered together but things became hazy after that point. I know it entailed the kitchen table, the dresser, the couch, the wall and, of course, the bed. I remember stopping a number of times to regain control and delay the inevitable, but I also remember carrying her from point to point, shifting positions, her legs still wrapped around me, me still inside her. My partner is much taller than me and by no means a light-weight.As I lay on her bed the next morning, I took the time to review the subtle aches and pains I was feeling. I had stiffness in my traps, my triceps, and my hips. But aside from that I was ok. I am no longer a young man—white hair has begun to spring forth everywhere that hair springs forth—but I am glad that I made some effort to keep in shape. I haven’t been to the gym in several months— I made a mental note to sign up as soon as possible—but I did continue a basic exercise regiment, even at home.One need not go to a gym to be physically ready for sex. One does not even have to procure a set of weights or a multi-exercise apparatus. With just your body weight and a couple of cheap stuff, the comforts of your own home and of your own room should be adequate.If there is one exercise that is absolutely essential, it is the push-up. The reason I say this is because it mimics the missionary position, which I have found is the position that best gets my partner into an orgasm. So the longer you can support yourself with your arms, the better for you and your partner. Another reason why pushups are vaulable is because I realized that women, in the missionary position as well as in the girl-on-top position, like to hold a man’s chest. When I am on top of her, she runs her hand down my triceps and grips it tight during orgasms.Find push-ups boring? Too easy? Try elevating your legs atop a chair to shift more weight down to your torso. Or try doing it one-handed. Or try bringing your hands closer together.For more of my exercise routines, you can check out this post.

This is required reading by all woman who are in a relationship with men. Don’t be drawn away by the title. It doesn’t just apply to married women. It applies to all women who want to keep their man.

Read it. Print it. Tack it on your door. Write it as an SMS and store it on your phone.

I have a number of failed relationships and to this day, I consider myself blameless for the break up. I just wish many of my partners had read this article.

For example, those who complain that we always hang out with the boys should read secret #2 (”We actually do play golf to get away from you”). Or those who complain about us burning the midnight oil at work should read secret #4 (”Earning money makes us feel important”).

But secret #11 is the money shot. This is the cardinal rule that ALL women should adhere to. Give us an inch and we’ll give you a lifetime.

I explained to her that I have certain fantasies. Admittedly I am not a head-turner. I am neither tall nor do I sport a well-defined physique. I am not Demolition Man who kills conversations as I walk into a room. My strengths are in the art of conversation, humor, occasional wit and depth—none of which matter unless I can get the girl to at least notice me. One of my fantasies, I told her, is to get a photo-shoot model into a room with me, maybe to share some wine and some cheese, who will flirt with me and I with her, and who will eventually end up in bed with me. And she admitted that she does give the cold shoulder to men who approach her. She admitted that she was not the type who allowed conversations with strangers. But she was my type—tall, large eyes like glistening ponds, long and smooth tresses, firm and shapely body—and I paid good money for her to be with me.

She acknowledged that there are certain perks to her clandestine profession. Contrary to the stereo-typical depressed and anguishing escort, she does have fun with her job. It was an acknowledgment shared by many of the other high-end escorts I have experienced. “I am religious,” she disclosed, “but I know how to have fun.” She remained exclusive, intensely guarding her privacy. She knew a lot of people, she remarked, and her greatest fear was that someone she knew would show up as a client.

I asked her if she enjoyed long, continuous intercourse. Contrary to popular belief, some girls don’t like extended plays. “The problem with that,” she replied, “is if it takes too long, the girl goes dry and it becomes painful.” It was a comment shared by almost all escorts I have talked to. She also found it insulting that a man would distract himself in order to last longer. She could tell, she said, if a man’s mind is elsewhere. And it would anger her. The best way to turn a woman on, she advised, is to show that you yourself are turned-on by her. She did have that impish grin on her when she found out how hard I was. I suppose it’s a confidence-booster for the woman. Men are creatures of power, strength, and authority. For a woman to get a man to succumb to her charms must be an aphrodisiac in itself. My problem, I admitted, was that at times I can’t control myself. If the woman is beautiful, I lose it. “But at least you compensate,” she stroked my ego. “At least, bumabawi ka.” She meant that I would do the foreplay, the stroking, the licking, the sucking, the fingering, the cunnilingus until she would beg for me to be inside her. Did she come while I was thrusting? Perhaps.

On our second round, she did say she was coming. Somehow I believed her. One way I could tell is not by the loudness of her moans, but the way her body reacts. She held on to my waist and gently eased me a few inches upwards while clasping her feet on my calves, possibly to increase the friction of my pelvis on her clitoris. Experts say that women don’t scream while they are coming. An orgasm is more like an implosion than an explosion and a woman would have no energy to vocalize it. Nonetheless, it seemed awkward to ask if she did come–if she already said it and one still had to ask, then you are basically saying that she faked it.

To the good and memorable ones, I always text afterward. “I had fun” was my message. “I did too” was her response. She followed it up with a question: “When can I see you again?” Temptresss she is, to the very end. I may succumb again soon.

I know that motels are cracking down on child molestation and child prostitution. They don’t allow people wearing school uniforms to enter (so much for Cosplay). I have heard that they are also requiring IDs, though that still hasn’t happened to me. I guess it is because I have a car.

I posted this in my new blog and, through the comments section, I was surprised with another restriction. It appears that some motels don’t allow individuals to check-in alone.

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Some people don’t realize that you can actually be traced through your IP address. While this may not be critical if you are accessing sites in an internet café, it may be something of concern if you are using your broadband ISP at home.

Broadband ISPs, like Globe Innove and Smart, assign to you a unique IP address. In internet parlance, it is akin to your home address. When you access a site, when you leave a comment in a blog or engage in a discussion in a forum, your IP address is logged. If someone wants to do a trace, they can get this info and seek the assistance and cooperation of the ISP. For starters, check out this site, which can list your IP address, location, ISP, and ISP contact person.

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