Vanessa was practicing her 'lost little girl' routine in the mirror tonight. The way she bites her lip, widens her eyes... fucking masterclass in manipulation. Got me thinking about the best part of our work: that precise moment a man's brain shuts off and his cock takes over. It's not just about the money. It's the power. Feeling his pulse race under my hand, watching his resolve crumble as I whisper exactly what I'm going to let his dick do to my pussy. The promise is always so much better than the mediocre reality. By the time he's fumbling with his belt, we're already counting the cash in his wallet. The real orgasm is the click of the hotel door locking behind us, leaving another fool in the dark.

PS: If you think you're the exception, your desperation is showing. But your wallet might still be useful.