Swamp Ass

While I’m up and crying and feeling a little antsy, I thought I’d get this one off my chest. While it’s no big secret that I am in fact a working girl (to some people I know), because of the stigma that is associated with sex work, I often get judged by my friends. This leaves me in quite the pickle to hold a lot of the stories that happen while working to myself. I mean if I can’t share the good things with judgmental hypocritical females, then I might as well keep the funny and sad ones to myself as well. 

So this is partially why I created this blog. To vent out to the world-wide-web how work IS, and let strangers judge and moreso learn from me. 

So this is the story of one of my clients whom I refer to as Swamp Ass. What do I want you to get from this story? Washing your ass is critical in many situations, but particularly in the ones where sex is involved. 

Swamp Ass came to me about a month ago. An overweight guy who was dressed nice and seemed to be eager to meet me. He not only scheduled in advance, but went out and then came to meet after his outing with friends. I was impressed. Another man may have just cancelled or just not show up, but he stuck to his word. 

He was coming in for a signature session of mine. Massage and full-service. All was going good as I rubbed the oil on the upper part of his body. But things started to take a turn when I got down a little further. The smell of shit emitting from his backside! It made my eyes pop open. But how do you tell someone that their ass is stink? Right there, as they lay on your bed, you naked next to them rubbing oil all over their body? How do you do that? 

Now before you judge and start to assert what you would do if you were in this situation, ask yourself two questions. 1. Have you ever been in this situation? No I mean really. Cause if you haven’t then there’s no way in the hell you just know what you would do. And 2. The person that you know or knew with bad breath, did you tell them? We all have known or know one person with halitosis and cannot muster up the courage to tell them that their breath stinks. So if your answer is no to both, and I know it is, then shut up. 

I was particularly disturbed by this odor because of the body glide I had to do on him near the closing out of the session. I wondered to myself: “Are you really going to glide on this fool? On a shitty ass!” It was a tough decision, so either I was going to tell him or find a way to glide without gliding.

So my trick was to glide on his back without ever touching his ass. It worked out. He enjoyed it, not realizing how I left rubbing my vagina on his ass out of the equation. (It was his first time.) 

Once he left I was elated! I stripped the bed of all the sheets and towels that were used during the session. And I sprayed down my bed with an antibacterial cleaner. Then it dawned on me. How in the world was I not having clients shower before sessions. How disgusting! Fecal matter, urine splashes, maybe someone else’s dried up ejaculate on their skin. From now on all clients would be required to shower before a session. I was determined never to endure this type of shit (pun intended) again.

But then swamp ass would return. What happens next is kind of astounding. But you have to read it in swamp ass 2: the return of swamp ass. 

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