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!

	3	7.69%	tabu escort
	3	7.69%	discovertabu
	2	5.13%	thigh high boots chicago
	2	5.13%	3 mistresses and a boy toy
	2	5.13%	sex diary
	2	5.13%	ivy league dominatrix
	2	5.13%	maylin and stefano
	1	2.56%	tabu thigh
	1	2.56%	tabu's sexy abdoman
	1	2.56%	tabu sexy girl
	1	2.56%	www.discovertabu.com
	1	2.56%	my sex diary
	1	2.56%	double lives cheating
	1	2.56%	secret behind the name tabu perfume
	1	2.56%	tabu milf
	1	2.56%	naughty roleplay father
	1	2.56%	swinger diary
	1	2.56%	lipstick blow jobs
	1	2.56%	tabu sex
	1	2.56%	allie4u@bellsouth.net
	1	2.56%	tabu's sex life
	1	2.56%	tabu in big
	1	2.56%	thigh boots boy
	1	2.56%	tabu without panty
	1	2.56%	tabu feet show
	1	2.56%	tabu sexy

Coupling Up: the Dynamics of Hubby, Wife and Me.

About once a month or so, I get a call to meet with a couple.

I'm ready to slip right into my stilettos: my website offers a special rate for them ($525/hr; exactly 1.5 times my ordinary rate for an individual) and I candidly state that I enjoy both men and women. (And anyone who reads my blogs about swinging knows that I'm more than bi-flexible.)

But when it comes to actually booking and seeing a couple... well, I could get laid in a convent more easily.

Something always goes a little wacko when they call. First of all, 99% of the time, it's the husband, and he's either 1) conspiratorially planning a "seductive surprise" for his uninterested and unsuspecting Vanilla Wife, or 2) he's oozing pretension and assuring me that I should overlook my screening requirements so I can meet his Trophy Wife, who's 33, a 40DD nymphomaniac and a former Playboy bunny.

Sigh. In the first instance, why is it my job to clue Mr. Horny Toad in that his conservative lady will not only NOT appreciate his thoughtfulness in procuring a hooker for them-- she may very well take a really big walk. With half his wallet and all of the house.

To Mr. Trophy Wife, I want to say,"This is freakin' South Florida, dude! You can't swing a cat without hitting a bleached blond beach bunny with 40 double D's. And if your wife is so hot, (whose existence I doubt) why not introduce her to the local talent here at a swing club? I'm sure you'd have them lined up."

Everyone needs a hobby, I suppose, (mine's stamp collecting), but I just wish these guys would take up golf.

Then I could spend more of my time licking. Meow.

Taking GFE one G too far!

Lately some of my fellows seem conveniently confused about the concept of GFE. I don't think it's that hard: They pass screening, present a tidy white envelope, and get a beautiful, gracious, sexy Tabu catering to their every naughty desire... smiling all the while.

Of course they'd like to have me for their real girlfriend. And of course, they'd like to dispense with the envelope. After a session or two, the manuevering begins to get me "off the clock."

Then there are my Match.com boys. They never pony up at all-- but try to entice me into providing those same delicious services without me noticing that the rent isn't getting paid.

Here's an email I recently received from one of these charmers... and my reply. (Note: Because he was busy sending this love-note out to hundreds of escorts, he couldn't even be bothered to put my name in the salutation. Or notice that I'm already IN Florida. Geesh.)

Hello, Pretty Woman!

I just wanted to tell you that you take my breath away. I'm sure you hear that alot in your business, but I mean it.

I'm a biomedical engineer in _____, Florida, and have my own business too. I just had to contact you as ever since I've seen your face (especially eyes) I know we have some kind of special connection. I don't know if you're married or anything. But, if you're not, and ever in Florida, please send me an email and I would be honored to take you out for a lovely dinner and walk along one of our wonderful beaches. I think we could end up becoming great friends - and that's something very special in the world today.

I don't know anything about your industry (except you're beautiful!) but if you would just like a new friend, I know there's just something about you that is wonderful.

I attached a pic of myself if you're interested in being friends (I've lost some weight since!)

Luv,

Tony

I'm sorry, but this seemingly innocuous letter really ticked your little vixen off. I don't believe a word of it-- or his professed innocence about the way escorts work. What I do know is that there may be some lonely working girl out there who falls for this line of bull, and gives it up for a while, just to have a "boyfriend." Even if he is a slimey conniver.

So given my feelings, I feel I really took it easy on him... and even gave his "innocence" the benefit of the doubt.

Dear Tony,

I feel that special connection, too! And for $350/hr, I'd love to explore it with you!

Let me know when you'll be in Miami!

purring,

Tabu

What a surprise. I never heard back.

So you've decided to hire an escort....

Since my Monday morning blog was accidently deleted by your groggy girlfriend here, I'll link you to a handy-dandy guide to hired-escort heaven.... and yes, you're very welcome. Caution: don't watch while drinking coffee unless you like choking with laughter.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Id49Q-qOYXI&feature=related

till tomorrow,

T

God loves Football....

God asks Peyton Manning first: "What do you believe?"

Peyton thinks long and hard, looks God in the eye, and says, "I believe in hard work, and in staying true to family and friends. I believe in giving. I was lucky, but I always tried to do right by my fans."

God can't help but see the essential goodness of Manning, and offers him a seat at his left hand.

Then God turns to Brett Favre and says, "What do you believe?"

Brett says, "I believe passion, discipline, courage and honor are the fundamentals of life.
I, too, have been lucky, but win or lose, I've always tried to be a true sportsman, both on and off the playing fields."

God is greatly moved by Brett's sincere eloquence, and he offers him a seat at his right hand.

Finally, God turns to Tom Brady: "And you, Tom, what do you believe?"

Tom replies, "I believe you're in my seat. "

My Sex Diary: Wow, what a weekend!

MMMM. Spreading my legs on Friday night for a sexy Frenchman and his hotter-then-Thai food Vietnamese girl.... just testing to see if I could tell the difference between his tongue and hers.

Saturday-- hit the swing club to debut the new sheer dress that cupped my ass SO invitingly...and spun around the stripper pole once or twice for good measure.

My lithe and beautiful friend from Maine smiled all night long-- I sat back and gave her a thumbs-up as she conquered the room.

Monday night-- well, it was Tabu to the rescue as a lonely friend from CA needed a sweet and tasty treat to make his evening complete.

Umm. I love my sexy life.

If you'd like to be part of it, check out my website for best way to get on my calendar.

I'm breathing a little faster already.

The Ultimate Hybrid

I fell into a gender cliche the other day-- headfirst, I might add. Upon seeing an extremely well-built fellow, big and broad-shouldered, I remarked, "Wow, now that's a man."

It's a natural reaction... but how true?

That same week, I was proudly lifting a 50 lb box when a woman irritated me by warning me against it. "You'll hurt yourself with that, get a man to do it," she admonished.

Maybe it's simply context. I don't like my strength being minimized by virtue of my gender. Likewise, the object of my admiration, Mr Muscles, may not like being stereotyped as a big lug.

The fact is, we all start out female. Whether we grow a Mr. Happy or not is purely an afterthought of our chromosomes. So there must be something about women that makes good raw material for everyone. However, that universal truth failed to console me years ago.

When I was little, I wished desperately to be a boy. Even now, I think being a man must be delightful-- having that sexy meat to swing around. But I've gown fond of the eternal and internal mysteries of pink, as well.

In the end, I've come to believe that we're all a big happy mess of everything. That's the only way I can account for my men friends who cry at the movies, my bodybuilder buds with clits, and everyone in between.

Long ago, Nature must have realized something we're still discovering. So when I look at myself in the mirror-- strong and feminine-- I smile. My little engine, like yours, purrs along as one of evolution's first hybrids.

As long as it runs, I can't complain.

"Her breasts heaved

from the confines of the creamy blue dress, its satin a sweet prison for her milky orbs..."

Wouldn't I make a good romance novelist?

Since several of you wanted to see the new dress I was O'ing over last month, here's a view for you. I poured myself into it and took it out on the town for New Year's Eve (more on THAT escapade later. ) I simply loved channeling my inner Rita (Hayworth) all night long.

Blue is the new black!

Whether its a dress, a toy, or a wonderful gentleman caller, I'll use any method I can to fulfill my bad-girl destiny-- and encourage all my friends to join in.

As we begin 2008, who wants to join me in that delectable resolution? On the road to sexual self-expression, there are no stop signs, just curves! So buckle me up, baby. It's going to be a fabulous year.