The Dame dissected

‘I like bisexuals, but I couldn’t eat a whole one’

-The Dame

If I were a whore (and believe me, I’m trying), I would have The Dame as my Pimp. She would know exactly how to run a friendly brothel and wouldn’t dare put her mugs on my commission. She would cancel appointments as soon as I said I wasn’t feeling up to it, and she would have a client base that filled up 7 maybe 8 A4 Lever Arch files. This I know because she is a great people person. And she is nice. It’s such a simple quality, yet there are very few nice people in this world. Hats off to The Nice Dame.

And we would happily run our enterprise from a refurbished stable (I cannot say another word). A good brothel owner needs to know sex and needs to know people and how to best put these two together at a profit and The Dame, despite a current celibacy of 3 years, is the perfect pimp.
And, let’s face it, she is on the revolution with myself, and it’s not going to be long at all before we have a full blown pan sexual orgy in Hyde Park. Worry not dear reader, tickets will be available from this very site in due course.

The only problem with The Dame is her sometimes lack of self appreciation. Modesty and insecurity will not get you into many panties, maybe two, because in today’s flesh market, nobody wants to work through issues, nobody is nice, as I mentioned before, so we have to succumb. We are good and we have to know it. And there is nothing wrong in this. Nothing whatsoever. At this stage in the revolution, we know exactly what we want. Next comes getting it. And our standards mustn’t slip.

The thing about standards is that they are like the best jewels you’ve ever received. You hide them away under many layers so that your maid (and I’ll have one of those too one day be assured) can’t lay her grubby hands on them. And rightly so, because these are all you will have when everything else is gone (the standards I‘m talking about). It’s okay to be a whore, but it’s of paramount importance that you are a whore with high expectations. Because we, The Dame and I, have a choice. We are spreading our legs for ourselves and nobody else. Not because we have to, but because we want to. Because this will please us.

And now to the issue of bisexuality. What a silly term for denial. Openness on the other hand is better, so much better.

The Dame is infatuated by a closeted lesbian. We can call her Crackalicious for she is a) into illegal substances and b) in possession of a crack (quite simply). Now, is It because she is closeted that The Dame likes her so, or is it because she is a lesbian? Of course, Crackalicious might suggest that she was bisexual, but being able to spread your legs for a man doesn’t really amount to bisexuality in my eyes. It’s more about the person you wish you were with during the sex.

Now, Crackalicious seems to enjoy playing mind games with The Dame. She probably has an idea of The Dame’s attraction and insists on testing it time and again. Yes, dear reader, she is one of THOSE. And The Dame deserves much better than a closeted confused boiler of the bunny. So I have decided to assist The Dame in her pursuit for finger licking female action. Tomorrow I shall create a personal ad for The Dame. And if we give ourselves two weeks in which to achieve the goal, it’s reasonable time, wouldn’t you agree?
I’m sure it can be done. Positive.

And I’m not talking about meeting some leathered up bondage queen behind a kebab shop late one night. I’m talking about finding The Dame a proper lover. A speaker of Vagina.
It’s high time she went from the frying pan into the fire. And yes, dear Dame, eating a whole lesbian WILL give you indigestion.