Holiday treats for two-- me and you!

Fredericks of Hollywood has me dreaming of a red, black and high-heel Christmas this year... so if you have the impulse to treat yourself to the vision of your little vixen in a sexy something...

a gift card to Frederick's would be a wonderful treat to find in my holiday stocking!

http://www.fredericks.com/giftCard2.asp?catalog_name=Holiday2002

Here's to sweet holiday dreams!

OK, you'll squeeze some ecology out of me now

How can you get your O's and save the world-- simultaneously?

Well, you can't. (Unless you're Wonder Pussy. Hmmmm.. maybe that's my next Halloween idea!)

But now, you can help save the environment after you've wrung the last bit of sweaty pleasure from your favorite vibrator or butt plug.

Toy retailer Dreamscapes has just announced the country's first-ever sex toy recycling program.

"Just clean it first," the CEO David Kowalsky asks. Then mail it to Dreamscapes, who dismantles the said pleasure machine and reuses the parts for wholesome new products such as tires or playground mulch.

And with a nod toward "think globally, play locally" Dreamscapes will reward recyclers with a $10 coupon for future purchases.

Donating my butt plug to the greater human good. Now there's a cause I can get behind!

Good vibrations! (Or, what every girl needs....)

I'll admit that every once in a while, a little vibration can do a body good.

And some girls I know (don't worry, darlings, I won't name names!) would give up their birthrights for a brand-new D battery and a Daniel Craig movie.

But things have gone too far when the beauty industry gets in on the act.

Just in time for Christmas, Lancome introduces Oscillation, the mascara with a vibrating wand (7000 oscillations a minute! as the ad breathlessly proclaims.)

For a mere $34, every girl on the block can give her eyelashes the ultimate thrill... something that clumsy Rabbit, Bullet or John Holmes replica meat-wand can never do.

So as a connoisseur of flirtatious eyelash-batting (how very old-school of me) AND an appreciative consumer of battery-operated boyfriends (in lieu of the real McCoy) I just might have to wheedle some kind stranger to drop an Oscillation in my Christmas stocking.

Will you be able to tell just who is vibrating her lashes to ultimate perfection... and who is settling for Maybelline?

Only by her satisfied sigh.

ilation

Blood on his hands

After oozing wetness during "Casino Royale," the first reinvention of James Bond in 2006, your little vixen has been silently panting in anticipation of the latest appearance of Daniel Craig.

In the rather grim sequel, "Quantum of Solace," I managed to concentrate on the most appealing facets... the rough boy in fantastic motion, agile as a ninja, and the too few moments of pure will, where the Brit puts his famously icy eyes to breathtaking effect.

As others have already noted, this Bond is a visceral and passionate re-thinking of the tradition. And in this outing, he's driven and almost wordlessly reckless.

When vengeance replaces judgment, not every kill can be clean.

This modern anti-hero has duty in his heart and blood on his hands.

I can't wait to see where he takes us.

Tricks and treats...

Dear Tabu:

Have you ever been caught in an embarrassing situation with a client?

Curious

Dear Curious:

What a coincidence that you would ask me that (ahem!) I was just reminiscing about one of the most ridiculous and memorable evenings I've spent as Tabu.

On a long-awaited overnight with a regular, my client showed up pale and holding his groin gingerly. When I asked what was wrong, he unzipped his pants to reveal a wad of bloody Kleenex in his briefs. He'd nicked himself shaving his balls, and the poor guy just wouldn't stop bleeding.

After the frenzy to find antiseptic, bandages, etc in my incall, we were both flustered and decided to go back to his hotel to get him into fresh underwear.

It wasn't until midnight, after a recuperative dinner and drinks, that we got ready for action... and realized that we had left the condoms and lube back at my incall.... 25 minutes away.

Bloody hell, as they say. But since we both had forgotten the vitals, there was plenty of blame to spread around. And we decided that spreading something else would be much more stress-relieving.

My southern suitor called every store in the neighborhood to find a 24-hour Walgreens... and then cabbed it over there and back to get us supplied.

It just goes to show, some nights you're tricked, some you're treated... and sometimes you miraculously achieve both. One thing's for sure: it beats real life!

North vs South: My bra is not a battleground!

All my friends told me not to do it.

"Your boobs are perfect," they insisted, some of them attempting to prove their point by hefting one or both in their hands.

"See? They're just right!"

Well, as they say, there's nothing perfect in this world... even though for a long time, my 34D's have been damn close. But here's the question. Exactly when did I exhort them to "Go South, Tabu boobs?"

Lately I've been noticing a slight downward migration, as if my nipples missed my pussy and just wanted a closer relationship.

OK- that was it. Time for a tuneup.

September 9th took on the historic porportions of D-Day... or should I say Double D Day? Into the ritzy surgical suite of the Playmates and Maxim model's favorite breast man in upscale Aventura... and out 3 hours later under the tender loving care of my gal-pal Allie.

Skipping the painful details, almost a week later we arrive at Sunday brunch in the Aventura mall-- and a visit to the ooh-la-la confines of a select European lingerie shop. This little nook specializes in big boobs... and the salesgirl eyed my torso appraisingly.

"Hmm," she mused, "You have a small back compared to your volume in front.... I think, yes, let's try this."

Without a peep I let her jostle my now-engorged breasts into what appeared to be a cup size large enough for Queen Latifah. She pushed, I pulled, and when we both straightened up, my boobs were encased in absolute perfection.

"Umm," I hesitated to ask,"Just what size is this?"

"Oh," she relied cheerfully, "You're a 34-F."

Wow. Well, after I forked over what would buy two people a very nice dinner out, I left with my 34-F everyday bra in an extremely elegant shopping bag.

And I can now see that the price of this little enhancement is going to go far beyond the surgeon, the meds or even the new photos I will certainly need to take.

Half of my wardrobe will have to be donated to my normal-sized friends--that is, anyone a D-cup or less. And your visibly-bigger vixen will become a very good customer of the big-boob emporium.

So my new job, apparently, is to have new ta-ta's... and try to get used to the "massive expanse" as my SO calls it, living on the front of my chest.

I guess there are worse fates. And whistlin' Dixie is one of them.

Slam, Bam (Where's the "Thank you, M'am"?)

You all know that I love a good, hard slamming every once in a while. (I mean, sometimes a girl needs to feel a little fire in the belly!)

So when I was awakened Thursday night around 2 by a loud thud that resonated through my condo, I thought maybe the couple next door was getting their groove on. I peered around groggily, and when nothing seemed out of place in my immediate sphere, I drifted back to Sleepyville.

And so my morning unrolled merrily-- coffee, workout, breakfast, and out to the car to head to Ft. Lauderdale.

Uh-oh. What were all the glass shards, plastic and shattered fiberglass behind my car? And why was it jettisoned three feet from where I'd parked it the night before?

Yes, dear ones, you have all guessed it.... my poor baby was a victim of a hit and run, back-end smashing worthy of the Pats' defensive line.

Damn, damn, damn.

Later that night it was still sitting askew when I ran into my irreverent gay neighbor on the street.

"Oh, boy, I saw your car this morning, sweetie," he exclaimed, patting me on the shoulder. "I knew you were going to be so PISSED. I went right back upstairs and told Zach that your car took it up the ass!"

"It sure f--king did," I replied, "But man-- no drinks, no dinner and no lube!"

So now, if you'll excuse me, I'm on my way to Allstate to see just how much they're going to f--k me. I can guarantee you it won't be a screaming O.

O well.

MILFs on the rise in DC... doubles, anyone?

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How Not to give a BJ.....

My friend Sinthia of Chicago posted this link on TER, and I had to pass it along to you...

Don't try this at home!

http://jhorna.wordpress.com/2008/04/14/college-humor-derrick-comedys-blowjob/

238, 239, 240...I'm the queen of the world!!

Last week, a curious Fl hobbyist did a little number crunching on The Erotic Review (see my blog http://discovertabu.blogspot.com/2007/10/playing-numbers.html here if you don't already know about TER) and the results made me squeal like a little girl.

Like a little girl? you ask. Why yes, and it's very odd, considering I was one of the (ahem) most mature ladies in the rankings.

ANYWAY, this fellow had the site rank all the TER ladies who have at least five reviews. That gave him a total of 5,935 ladies nationwide.

He then had TER rank these ladies in order of their performance ratings.

Out of almost 6,000 providers in the US, your little MILF was ranked #240 with a performance average of 8.98 (out of a possible 10.)

So I guess all that practice in the swing club and Tabu's lair has finally paid off!

Just today, I had a lovely appointment with a charming gent who entered the hobby almost exactly a year ago. In the meantime, he's embraced the TER ethos, learning to analyze reviews, pick the top ladies and get his mojo working in the best possible way. He found me through that sweet maze of rankings... and I couldn't be happier that he did.

So here's to clawing (I mean meowing) my way to the top 5%. It's great to be recognized... and even better to know I still have room to improve.

If you're on my"to-do" list, you may be in for a wild ride. Because your little missy will be working on gaining the top 4% now.... and there's ony one way to make it happen. You'll be the judge!

Larry, Moe and Curly in Motown

This week's episode: The three Stooges tackle Tabu.

(As our story unfolds, Tabu visits Detroit in search of f__ks and fortune. During her stay, she encounters our famous trio.)

Last-Minute Larry calls on the final afternoon of her tour, demanding that she jettison her previously-scheduled programming to accommodate his sudden need of her company. When Tabu politely refuses to trash her regular, Larry pouts and hangs up.

No-Info Moe takes the opposite tack, repeatedly writing to Tabu several weeks ahead of her visit, stating his desire to make an appointment. When requested to provide basic screening information, he responds very expeditiously-- with a fictitious name and cell number.

Squirrelly Curly enjoys making an advance appointment and then canceling, pleading a last-minute work commitment. He ever-so-gratefully accepts Tabu's offer of a new time... and then ever-so-conveniently forgets to show up.

Next week: Tabu wakes up from a bad dream to find that no one actually shot J.R.

View from above... Curvy girls rule!!

Sometimes it pays to be left behind... when you get a view like this one, from last week's sextravaganza in Port Charlotte.

Four hot couples, eight naughty minds... well, you can do the math.

When this little Tabu picture showed up in the mix, all unanimously declared it a "must-publish--" so, I bend to the wishes of my clan.

Enjoy!

Perception, Reality and the Value of Pretty Boobs

Last month on tour....

Client, fondling my augmented girls: "Wow, Mother Nature really blessed you."

Me: "Yes... with enough money to afford a really good plastic surgeon!"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Last week at my incall...

Client, fondling my augmented girls: "Your tits are really great. I HATE fake tits."

Me: "Oh, me too!" (giggle)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

An hour fondling Tabu's tits... $---. Living with Tabu's tits 24/7.... priceless!

My sizzling Swing Club dates just got better!!

Wow. If there was anything that could have improved my now-notorious swing club dates, it was the comfortable but rather dated surroundings of my favorite club. Has that ever changed!

On Saturday night, I joined a gaggle of my sexiest friends to discover the ALL-NEW, COME-HITHER, SEXY, COOL, SOPHISTICATED and LUXURIOUS club. Our joint has been building a brand-new club for the past year, and they proudly unveiled the results last week.

Who wouldn't like this upscale and sleek new design? On Saturday, the hottest happenings were showcased in the best-looking club in South Florida.

So from now on, my adventurous and sexy dates who join me on any Wed, Thur, Fri or Sun night will find that what was sizzling before is now even hotter!

If you're unclear on how the swing date works, click through on this link for the details... then just drop me a note at discovertabu@gmail.com to arrange our escape into pleasure.

It's not often that the best gets even better!

http://discovertabu.blogspot.com/2008/03/swing-into-spring-sexy-new-addition-to.html

I'd love to be your guide!

Having a happy life

Look at that smile... think I'm having a good time?

Lately I've been thinking about what makes me happy... and it's clear that my friends are a huge part of the happy life I lead.

On my birthday last month, this girl was treated to laughs, gifts, sweetness and sexiness... and the price of happiness was quite nicely within reach.

Just thought I'd share.

The Love Guru.... Hmmph!

No, I haven't seen a sneak preview... but I do think I might have to get my bulldog of a lawyer onto Mike Myers.... After all, the man boldly stole what should have been my own legacy. Tabu, the Love Guru. Has a certain ring to it, don't you think?

Last week I entertained some new friends and I have to tell you.... I'm relishing my enviable life. What could be better or more satisfying? I get to indulge in one of my favorite pasttimes, to watch my befuddled friends stagger off with a huge smile on their mugs, and pay the rent in a manner my landlady would never suspect.

Life is good, as they say. And after I spank that naughty Mike for stealing my thunder, I'll be the one smiling... even wider than usual. Now if only I could get a percentage!

Playing doctor in Cleveland!

"Oh, yes, Doctor, of course I'll open my mouth so you can check my tonsils... with your cock!"

In one of those funny coincidences that could only happen in my hotel room, on Wednesday I was treated to an entire series of medical exams by some of the ablest physicians in Ohio (home to the famous Cleveland Clinic, of course.) So after this modest little patient made sure she was wearing clean panties, it was clear that she needed to be diagnosed... and thus it was time for me to:

• stick out my tongue


• breathe rapidly


• have my breasts checked for abnormalities


• and put my feet in the stirrups of someone's shoulders.

My, oh my. I've never undergone such a rigorous series of exams.. all so very thorough.

And it was funny, when you think about it... after all that, I was the one who got the results!

Last 2 days to pre-book for Cleveland!

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Two holes are bettter than one!

Last night I got to indulge in one of my favorite treats... and share it with a fascinated onlooker.

When I oh-so-carefully spread my naughty girlfriend's legs... then plunged into her with my big, black strap-on, there were three gasps heard in the room: hers, mine and our titillated client.

Ah, the joys of being a girl with a cock. After I taught her how to behave properly-- and she needed a lesson!-- I relinquished the helm to her own eager hips. That bad girl wanted some of her own... and for poor little me, that was just the start of a very "fulfilling" evening.

Sometimes I feel like the star in my very own porn movie. Here's to Take Two!

Happy Memorial "Lay!"

My wish for you: that you may you be "lay"d sweetly, vigorously, slowly, sensually or however you like it best.... and that you make the most of the three "lay" weekend!

I know I will!

hugs to all my friends and partners in crime!

P.S. and don't worry, Cleveland-- I'm saving some strength for you!!

Good cop/bad cop... mmmmm. What a choice.

As much as I love the donuts, I have to admit that there's one part of my job I love even more....

and that's cuffing those miscreant boys that think they can bribe me into slipping out of my uniform.

Why, just last week, a would-be gangsta shouldered his way into this innocent officer's hotel room in Detroit. And before I could give him any well-intentioned warnings, he slapped down a envelope and looked at me defiantly.

"Well?" he demanded. "What do you have on under that robe for me?"

"Excuse me, sir," I began, "You may want to wait just a minute before you start asking me questions. There's something about me that you really need to know."

"I don't think so, Miss Hottie," he replied, reaching for the tie of my silky robe. "I want to see what I'm buying."

"Well, all right," I conceded, stepping away from his hands. "If you really want to see what you're getting, I hope you like silver and black."

I dropped the silky panels to the floor.... and watched his face go pale as I was revealed in full police uniform.

"You're under arrest, Mr. Hottie," I sighed. "I tried to warn you."

"Uh, wait a minute," he stammered. "There's been a mistake. I didn't know you were a cop!"

I had to giggle at his weak protestation. "Of course you didn't, sweetie-- but now you know, and now you're going downtown."

His face crumpled and his shoulders sagged in defeat. "Isn't there any way we can work this out? I can't let this happen! I'll be ruined."

I felt a brief moment of pity. He did look sincere... and I had been on a lonely stakeout for almost a week. Maybe instead of going downtown, he could just go down. Yeah, that was an idea.

An hour later, still breathing hard, I realized there's a reason I'll never make Sergent. But then again, sometimes rank is over-rated. Just like making collars.

Humanitarian Aid... and then some!

On Friday afernoon I returned from 5 days away on tour. Naturally, my love-starved SO was eager to enjoy a prolonged tryst with me.

In the afterglow he hugged me and joked, "I should get a humanitarian award for sharing your fabulous p---sy with the world."

"Why, yes, you should, darling," I agreed. "And I even know which one it shoud be. The Nobel 'Piece' Prize!"

It's good to be queen!

Florida-bound tomorrow! (no, that's not a new fetish!)

Detroit has been treating me like a queen, but even the nicest reigns have to come to an end.... (hopefully, I'll still have my head when it's over!)

What lovely gentlemen I've always found here. Engineers, auto industry folks, the occasional doctor, lawyer and college prof.... the tenor of their visits is always sweet and appreciative.

I appreciate you, too, boys! And while I'm a tad homesick right now, I'll be back again this summer for a visit with my "gentlemen in waiting"-- and I'll bring the cake!

Putting the "ho" in hotel! An etiquette reminder from "Dear Tabu."

Dear Tabu:

Q. How I can ensure the discretion and safety of my favorite escort when she's visiting my town on tour? (OK, so no one really asked this. Go with me here!)

A. Thank you for the excellent question, Hobbyist! Part of your responsibility as a good client is to visit your escort as discreetly as possible. Any behavior, intentional or not, that draws negative attention to her may result in trouble for both of you. Here are some examples of what TO DO.

• Call for her room number from the parking lot, not the lobby. Then when you arrive, you can stride purposefully right to the elevator and go up. The longer you linger in the lobby, looking lost, the more the desk clerk is likely to wonder.
• Arrive with a briefcase, file folder or other business-related item in hand.
  
• Make your arrival call on time. Not 15 minutes early, when your lady is likely in the shower, brushing her teeth, or struggling to attach her garters.
  
• Knock quietly on her door and enter without exclaiming loudly "Wow! You're even hotter than your pictures!" (We love that, but save it for when the door is closed.)
• Lay your gift envelope down in clear view without further comment. We know what it is.
  

And now, from the "Oh My God" file, a few reminders of what NOT to do. (We'll use someone named "Miss X" as the example case.)

• Do not arrive with a big bouquet of flowers as if you're headed for the prom. Not only will everyone stare at you in the lobby, but your lady will have no place to put them in her room. Then disposing of said flowers gracefully... not easily done without the maids wondering about "businesswoman" Miss X in Room 617.
• Enjoy your time with your lady, but do not try to wring every last second out of your appointment. Wind down your activities so you can shower and dress and still be out the door when your alloted time has elapsed. Your lady will appreciate your respect for her schedule-- and it will give her time to re-attach her garters.
  
• Speaking of showers-- Miss X is probably stealing towels off the maid's cart to keep herself and her guests stocked without having to ask for extras... so don't assume she has an infinite number on hand. One should do the trick, unless you're Andre the Giant.
• Say your farewells inside the room, not as you're walking into the hallway. Miss X actually had an enthusiastic client exclaim as she was closing the door, "That was the best b--- j-- I've ever had!"
  

Keeping a low profile keeps everyone safe and satisfied. So when you're eagerly anticipating the happy return of Miss X to your city, make it easy for her to say Yes!

Now back to your regularly-scheduled programming!

My Close Encounter of the Ron Jeremy kind

Four years ago, when becoming an escort was barely a naughty thought in my mind, I met Ron Jeremy one busy Saturday night at the local swing club.

We sat side-by-side for two hours in the back room, chatting about all kinds of things... I purposely didn't ask him about his film career, figuring that he gets those "fan" questions all the time.

Even though our conversation was interrupted by a steady stream of swingers seeking autographs, which he graciously signed, he always re-focused immediately on our intimate chat.

Eventually, it was hard not to notice the effect my bare breasts were having on the porn king. And so I was inspired to check out his legendary equipment with my mouth. (and yes, it's quite a mouthful!)

Afterwards, the happy actor asked me if I'd ever considered getting into the adult industry.

"Here's my personal email address," he offered, scribbling it on the back of a business card. "If you're interested in doing something, I can definitely introduce you to the right people."

Soon it was time to go, and we said affectionate goodbyes and I hugged his furry chest.

"Seriously, I want you to get in touch with me after I get back to LA. I think you're a natural," he insisted.

Well, as you all know, I didn't go into movies, preferring the more discreet and personal avenue of being an escort.

But the accomplished and charming Ron did give me a nudge in the Tabu direction... and that was one of the best bits of career advice I've ever received.

So if you're the pleased recipient of a bit of oral inspiration from yours truly, you can give the king a nod of acknowledgement.

I know I do.

Becoming a Star at the Starlite Motel!

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Changing your plans makes life interesting!

Ah well, Chicago is going to have to enjoy my girlfriend without me this time; due to an unexpected development, I've had to cancel my trip.

I will definitely plan on re-scheduling a little later this spring/summer.

In the meantime, I'm looking forward to a delectable visit with some of my Motor City favorites!

Detroit, watch out for the Tabu Express!

Road Trip!! Well, plane trip. (Who cares? We're going to Chicago!)

Ah, spring. The dogwoods bloom, the spring breakers break and in Tabu-land, the snowbirds take flight.

It was wonderful, they say, as they wave from their SUVs, heading back to New York and Minnesota. We'll see you next year!

And as we wipe our tearful eyes, everyone in Florida waves sadly till they're over the horizon of I-95.

Then, we all make a rush for our favorite restaurants and bars, now blissfully tourist-free.

Thank God for those fat-cat snowbirds, for without them our coffers would be lighter. But thank God when they leave, and local life takes back its lazier, sun-dappled pace.

For me-- and my girl Allie, who positively itches with wanderlust, spring's the overture to our own journeys.... and with nothing but stilettos in our suitcases, there's only one thing that could be on our minds.

Foot-long hot dogs. After all, isn't that Chicago is famous for? Oh, wait, that's Coney Island. (I always get those two mixed up!)

No, we adore Chicago with a passion worthy of grand opera. Get us up on Michigan Ave-- ensconced in the silky linens of a 4-star hotel-- waiting breathlessly for our darling midwestern suitors to arrive.... well, life just doesn't get much sweeter.

Seasons always resume their rituals, no matter who's watching. And when we see our calendars inching toward April, we can hardly wait to take it all in.

So if you see two Florida flamingos-- one sun-kissed, one ivory-- positively glowing with genuine delight, please don't hesitate to welcome us "home."

Hollywood will wait.

AWOL for a friend; back to Tabu.

This weekend I had to say a permanent goodbye.

My friend John, a smart, lovable and funny 50-year-old, slipped away into a quiet place after a devastating fight with cancer.

During that fight, his wife, my equally admirable girlfriend, showed me what courage really is. A feisty ex-New Yorker, she never backed down from the challenge of dealing with every aspect of their everyday life; when John quickly became too weak to function, she emerged as even more than she imagined she could be.

Not that I'm painting her as a saint. Plenty of days I got my daily call that started with exasperation; nothing was simple in their last journey together except their love for each other.

And now, that love continues and changes.

Hellos and goodbyes, mourning and rejoicing. There's no getting around that eternal balance.

I love both my friends, and now I'm going to get to show one of them just how much. When life feels diminished by absence, the presence of our friends and family helps fill the abyss.

And for me, re-embracing my inner Tabu is my way of celebrating the continuation of beauty, sensuality and life.

John wouldn't have had it any other way.

Grazie! (I think!)

Today's nomination for International Email of the week: (reproduced verbatim).

if one day you are around the europe what do you think about a good weekend in Italy? i am a beautiful mature man,Luke, of 40 years, lend, equipped, also of savoir-faire and free discretion from engagements, I try one intelligent mrs. that desires one educated and lose interested company. I can accommodate and travel. if it tries what I can offer to you,contact me. I guarantee ospitality, respect and absolutely discretion. I can accommodate you in Lignano Sabbiadoro, or offer to you a timid one week-end to Venice.

i need a photo to remember of you..


Here's an incipient hobbyist in one of the sexiest countries on earth, and he's taking a cyber-stroll down Tabu Lane.

Darling, I'm flattered. But if your pasta isn't better than your English, I'll have to stick with La Dolce Vita here in Florida.

Ciao!

No rest for the wicked?

One of my favorite clients wrote me Friday with a question:

And what will this naughty girl be doing for Easter? How do swingers celebrate Spring-- by getting sprung?

Well, he's a hoot and it was with actual sadness I had to relate that-- once in a rare while-- even this Energizer Bunny has to snuggle up with her eggs and snooze.

After three weekends of marathon eroticism, it's mandatory to re-charge the batteries and come out swinging, as they say.

So it's off to la-la land, nappyville, dream city.... and then back to the exhausting job of being fabulous.

See you on Monday!!

Two for Two! Swing Dates Sizzle!

I have one word for the past 2 Friday nights. Yumm-eeee.

Thanks to the two lovely gentlemen who couldn't wait to raise their "hands" for my new swing club rendez-vous, your little vixen got to show off her favorite club, its sizzling citizens and the naughty-and-nice atmosphere that gets everyone rocking.

In fact, I feel a bit like an evangelist lately-- "Come to me, brothers, and let me show you the way!"

Fortunately, my impulse toward religion stops there... unless you count my recent fantasy fulfillment for one wicked little girlfriend of mine. That evil girl wanted me to tell her all about the bad Catholic schoolgirl at confession. Oh, my-- she was sooo bad that the priest had to come right into her side of the confessional and show her the errors of her ways... sin by sin.

Oh, the depths I'll explore for the sake of some curvy-girl nookie.

But then again, maybe that talent for erotic imagination is what has made me so many delicious friends.

Where the mind can go, the cock and pussy can follow. Just ask the two boys who squired me through the halls of iniquity. They imagined what could happen when you get 300 hot swingers together -- mixed thoroughly with a healthy dose of Tabu-- and the reality of it all.... well, I think it surpassed their wildest wet dreams.

So here I go again today, powdering, silkening, and fine-tuning that sexy spot between my ears for another erotic adventure in Paradise.

Heaven's got nothing better.

Here we go again...

Almost exactly a year ago today, I published the blog I'm reproducing below. Ring a bell?

So please-- don't come to me asking for less screening due to the Spitzer case. I'm not buying into the hysteria, and neither should you. So, from March 28, 2007....

Don't call me Madam! (or, Paranoia Abounds!)

Yesterday I saw one of my regular, mild-mannered fetish clients. All was great until after our session, when he rather nervously asked me if Iwould "remove all traces" of him from my email, cellphone, paper calendar and Rosetta Stone, and never contact him again.

I was a bit stunned and when I asked where this sudden directive came from, he cited the "DC Madam," who was arrested recently for running a high-profile,15-girl prostitution ring for a total of 13 years. The madam in question briefly floated the idea of selling her "43 lbs" of detailed client records (!) to the highest bidder. A federal judge quickly derailed the idea.

My nervous client, neither well-known nor likely to be, envisioned himself the unhappy recipient of media glare if I was ever taken away in cuffs.

Let me tell you what I told him (after assuring him that his very existence would be forever eradicated from my consciousness.)

Women who run large-scale prostitution rings with celebrities and elected officials as clients naturally attract attention from law enforcement and the IRS. Millions of dollars of undeclared income... famous names... and a revolving door of indiscreet "employees" create a target worthy of pursuit and prosecution.

On the other hand.... low-key, tax-paying, individual providers operating out of a single discreet location- no fanfare, no employees, no racketeering-- simply aren't worth the government's attention, time or money.

The DC Madam is facing a host of serious charges which range from pandering to tax evasion, money laundering and more. She's in deep shit.

I, however, am no Madam. And if, to my misfortune, a local vice cop slips through my screening someday and takes me downtown, I'll pay my misdemeanor fine and go home. It won't be fun, but it certainly won't be front page news.

With rising gas prices, hurricane season and new episodes of America's Next Top Model on the horizon, we all have much weightier issues to worry about. So let's get on with the show.

"Swing" into Spring! A sexy new addition to the menu!

If you've ever been intrigued by the sexy, secret world of swinging-- but didn't have the entree or a willing partner to try it out-- well, I have a very important announcement just for you.

Starting now, I'm your guide to a very satisfying Swing into Spring!

Take advantage of my 10-year experience in this lifestyle and get a first-hand understanding of:

• How to "play well with others" (the etiquette and protocols that all swingers share)


• How to approach a potential playmate


• When it's time to go from flirting to f--king

• Why women rule this world and how to win them over

I've had some of the sexiest times in my life at a swing club and it's time you did, too!

Here's how it works. Like a dinner date, a swing date is 4 hours, during which we will enjoy the club's excellent dinner, dancing, flirting and whatever naughtiness we can stir up.

If you're visiting from out of town, I will pick you up at your hotel and your only financial responsibility is my gift and the door fee at the club. (I will supply the membership requirement.) Since all FL swing clubs are BYOB, you choose whether to bring your own alcohol.

So whether you dream of jumping in, watching and learning, or a happy mix of both, you can relax knowing you're in the very experienced hands of a true aficionado.

Before I was Tabu, I was a swinger. Come discover the sensual atmosphere, freedom and fun that helped turn a bad girl into a verrrry bad girl! (And as you know-- very bad is verrry good!)

Sit. Stay. Roll onto me. I learned everything I know about sex from my dog.

As I was stroking my best friend's ears Saturday night,(and yes, my dog was there, too) it struck me how similarly I'd trained both.

My dog waits impatiently as he watches me dabble in debauchery. "Get on with it," his eyes say, as I'm rolling in a tangled mess of sheets, arms and hard breathing. When the bed surface calms to a gentle rocking, he'll launch himself into the middle, hoping for a clear spot to land.

My two (or sometimes three-legged) friends- well, they've perfected the exaggerated eyeroll in lieu of puppy dog eyes. They look around, and when I'm discovered in flagrante delicto, they heave a histrionic sigh and announce, "Well, she's as good as gone for a while." Being human apparently means that they know better than to jump into a mess.

On the other hand, humping a pillow clearly transcends man-animal boundaries.

When I was a yearning little girl, my pillow could be smoothed into the broad shoulders of my heartthrob. And if a little pelvic thrust came into play at a pivotal fantasy moment, well, who would be the wiser? The Dog-King, possessed of a fleeting hormonal urge, frankly hops into position and wildly humps for 20 or 30 seconds... eventually becoming distracted by a passing siren or Shiz-tzu.

It appears we have more in common than not. And so when I observed a pack of well-heeled homo sapiens indulging in that most animalistic of pleasures in my living room Saturday night, I simply had to hand it to those naughty dawgs.

But it was one at time, buster-- one at a time.

The Doctor is in! Please take off your pants...

Today, a gent asked the following:

Curious what the best way to catch a lady's attention is in sending emails... I always have been curious and would love to know how many emails you ladies receive in say a day. I don't want to be passed over or trashed!! What should the subject of the email be to catch your attention to read further and hopefully lead to your reply and then some?

Dr. Tabu replies:

Don't be cute. If you put in your subject line:

I'm your stud-muffin, Tabu!!

I'm going to think you're crackers or a 15-year-old boy.

However, if you put:

Possibility of appointment March 3 at 8pm?

I'll open YOURS first! (Then maybe I'll open mine!)

____________________________________________________

Successful providers' mailboxes are afloat every day with:

"Wishful thinking" emails (When will you be touring to Sitka, Alaska?)

"Maybe her IQ's dropped" emails (You don't know me but I'm in Room 178 at the Day's Inn; can you be here in a hour?)

"Please get me off" emails (Hey, baby, I've got a big hard one for you. Can you handle my 10-incher? Call me now!)

"I'm a cop or clueless or both" emails (Do you offer BBBJ, multiple shots and can I bring a buddy?)

and so on....

My advice-- be pleasant, business-like and think about the impression you're making.

After all-- your first letter is like a first interview. Make it count!

My contribution to National Security....

I told you I was a patriot!!


Have a great weekend-- I'll be busy hiding the weenie!

Puritanism at Playboy: Pitying the Girls Next Door

What happens when you shack up with the oldest playboy in America?

Apparently, not much.

For a year now I've been indulging in a guilty boob-tube pleasure... setting my TIVO for The Girls Next Door, the reality-based account of Hugh Hefner and his three platinum "girlfriends" Holly, Bridget and Kendra. They're delightfully oblivious to the actual real world, as they order room service, shop for designer g-strings and buckle up in the Playboy jet for jaunts to Monte Carlo.

On the surface, it's simply ducky. But as I've dipped my toe in the Playboy pool over the past few months, a sad little trend has emerged as an undercurrent in the girls' daily lives.

Chastity.

The youngest, 22-year-old Kendra, clearly feels her hormones kicking in; she's the breast-flashing, skirt-flipping tease on almost any occasion where there are attractive men present. In a recent episode, she railed at the girls' 9PM curfew. Bridget, the most demure of the group, would fit in at the local PTA. Hef's main squeeze, the ambitious Holly, does share the king's bed... but in flannel PJs and with a bowl of popcorn.

A blind man couldn't miss the irony. Hooked up with the man who practically invented the sexual revolution and the closest these bunnies get to satisfaction is their Rabbit. (See battery-operated boyfriend.)

What's a MILF to think? That LA's finest surgical enhancements, pricey sex-kitten duds and peroxide do not a sex life make.

So to the "girls" and Grandpa, I say, "It's your cage, welcome to it."

To my own decidedly less glamorous but genuine "let's go" sex-style, I say "Hallelujah!"

Because you know what they say. There's no business like "go" business!

If only it had been Walgreens.....

Have you noticed that the more exclamation marks someone uses, the more they appear to be writing directly from the Loony Bin? This proposal, apparently from a very excited individual, came in my email yesterday.

I was wondering if you were available tonight? I love watching a woman smoke! It really turns me on! I am very serious about seeing you! You look SO hot in your eros-miami ad!! Are you still available tonight? Again, I am very, very, very serious about seeing you TONIGHT!!!

Do you smoke in real life? If so, what brand? If you don't mind, could you show up smoking Virginia Slims 120's when you come to see me? That is a major fantasy for me!

I want to have a really good time! I will be back in Miami about every 3-4 weeks and I would love to have someone like you that I could see while I am here!

I have tried to find someone, but no-one is willing to do what I want...so...here's what I want to do! Could you meet me at the CVS on 88th Street in Kendall (I'll give you the address and directions if you are sure you want to see me)...dress very HOT and SEXY (really high heels and a very sexy dress)...and then follow me back to my hotel after we have gone shopping!

Here's what I can offer you!!!! I can pay you $450 cash...give you a $700 laptop...and take you on a shopping spree at CVS (you can buy mp3 player, tv, or whatever you want up to $300) and then back at my hotel you order champagne, beer and etc. from Room Service ($100).

Are you interested? If so, I will give you my phone number and we can hook up tonight!!!

Damn, it's tempting. A girl could score a lot of Crest on a gig like that.

Back in the saddle (again!)

Woo-hoo and Yippee-oh-cayay!

Bounced back through stormy skies last night to finally float peacefully down in Ft Lauderdale, and boy, am I ready to play. Nothing like a little enforced chastity to get your girl going.

Indulge me, will you?

You have my number (in more ways than one!)

Round 'em up, head 'em out!

It's the Tabu Two-Step... yep, I'm rounding up all my conservative duds and heading out to Small Town, Texas tomorrow....

So, please. If you see your little vixen in the airport or on the buffet line with two white-haired folks between now and Tuesday, smile a secret smile to yourself. But Mom--er, I mean MUM's the word.

I'll be leaving my naughty girl side in Florida for the duration.

I'll be thinking of you!

kisses,

Tabu

The key(word) to my lair... win it if you dare!

Like any good Internet vixen, I love to track my blog hits. Yesterday I had visitors blowing hot and cold-- apparently someone likes me in Dubai-- and Finland. (brr)

But I have to confess that I've never paid that much attention to the keywords people use to search for me.

So for your amusement, here are today's search terms that have recently lead people to Tabu.... Behind Closed Doors. Pretty interesting, eh, Grasshopper?

Guess which are my personal favorites and win a special Tabu treat (to be revealed ONLY to the winner!) Use the comment feature to take your shot.

Good luck and may the Force be in me!

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