You, Tabu and the sexiest swingers in S FL-- New Year's Eve at Trapeze!!

If you've ever fantasized about a private entree into the sexy world of FL swingers.... with a sophisticated and oh-so-experienced vixen at your side....

then you'll never find a more spectacular opportunity than NEW YEAR'S EVE '09!!

Join me as my special date on this erotic evening of fine dining, dancing, and all the hedonistic pleasures you'd expect... in a luxurious and upscale club built exclusively for lascivious fun.

Our 4-hour date will begin at 9pm and include Trapeze's lavish NYE buffet, complete with Maine lobster and filet mignon. I will provide a fine libation suited to the evening, as we....

Embrace the vision of entrancingly sexy women, passionate men and an unforgettable atmosphere of sensual liberation.

Follow me to the erotic wonderland where inhibitions are shed as thoroughly as the clothes.... and from there, well.... it's up to our imagination what naughty delight comes first.

Let's make it an evening we'll never forget... it's there for the taking!

Essentials:

• 9pm-1am, New Year's Eve
• Membership and $150 event fee, my compliments
• Fine wine or libation of your choice, my compliments
• Pickup and return to your hotel, if applicable, my compliments
• Gift for Tabu's NYE Spectacular: $1600
• Since this is a one-time opportunity, a 25% deposit is required by Wednesday, payable via GreenDot card.

Make it you, Tabu and the sexiest swingers around. This Thursday evening... a night you'll never forget.

Don't have a Cow-- Give a Heifer!

I'm doing something really important this holiday season that all my intimate friends can help me with. I'm working to end hunger by raising money for Heifer International.

I'm counting on you to pitch in and help reach my goal. Any donation large or small will help us get there!

I chose Heifer International to help because they are a wonderful organization working to end hunger and poverty in the world. For more than six decades, Heifer has been helping poor
families around the world become self-reliant by providing animals and the training to care for them. Each recipient family promises to pass along offspring from their animal to another
family in need.

Heifer's simple but effective solution has helped more than seven million families -- 38 million people -- in more than 125 countries including the US, where more than 10 million people
are chronically hungry.

Thank you in advance for taking a moment to go online and help me help Heifer.

http://www.heifer.org/site/c.edJRKQNiFiG/b.204586/?msource=kw1844

"The dick doesn't lie," and other lessons from a life under the covers

Chapter One: In dickus veritas

Laughter erupts around me.

"What did I say?" I protest, glancing at the semi-naked group of hedonists in my living room.

"Oh, come on," one of them snorts, "You know exactly what you said. Please."

"Yeah," his wife agrees. "The dick doesn't lie?"

"Well, it doesn't. If Mike there tells you he's not into blonds, then you see Blond Bambi sucking him off and he's hard as a fireplug... well, what do you call it? An oral misunderstanding?"

The dick doesn't lie.


Chapter Two: Verisimilitude

My girlfriend smiles conspiratorially over her husband's blissful face, his eyes closed to better focus on his pleasure. "Mmmmm," she purrs, "Doesn't she do that well?"

I wink at her as I slowly slide my tongue around the sensitive ridge of his joystick.

"Do it just like I like to," she urges me in a sultry contralto. "That's it, hurry up, swallow it all!"

For a moment his eyes open in surprise at her passionate appeal, and in a series of shuddering breaths, he surrenders to my surrogacy.

Sunlight streams through a slant in the window.

"Just like you like to do it," he whispers into the air.


Chapter Three: Unoriginal Sin

Placing one stiletto in front of the other, I take my time emerging from the darkened bedroom. His hands grip his knees as I approach, laughing.

"What's up?" I tease him, lightly stroking his pants with a long red fingernail.

"I was just thinking that you're not like any woman I've ever been with. But I can't really offer you anything you haven't already had. Probably."

At the last word he looks up at me hopefully.

"Well, you're partially right," I murmur, straddling his lap and slipping my hands into his hair. "I'm a completely, utterly wanton woman who absolutely insists on driving you crazy. And you're my completely, utterly delicious partner in crime, are you not?"

Among a flurry of insistent little kisses he manages to croak out "Yes."

"Then does either of us really have to be original?" I whisper into his ear, my nipples singing under the influence of his suddenly emboldened touch.

The world envelops us. The world falls away.

He doesn't have to say no.

Happy Halloween, Pumpkin!

I'll be celebrating in the best way I know how... how about Boo?

kisses,

Tabu

It's Farewell....

to the lovely incall where we've shared so many heart-pounding, blood-rushing and utterly delicious erotic times....

my landlady's in foreclosure. (sigh.)

So it's out with old, in with the new... and the new is just moments away from the old.

Thursday-Sunday will be MOVE-OUT, MOVE-IN, (and a few days sans incall) to turn a new locale into my Tabu-licious den of iniquity.

So let's make plans to initiate the new lair in the best way we know how!

(Just ask me for ideas!)

as always, grateful to be among your favored temporary girlfriends,

your S Florida vixen,

Tabu

Tabu's Tutorials: Grand Theft Cotton

Into every life a hotel incall comes... and when it does, along comes the great towel dilemma. There are never enough.

Touring providers like yours truly and my leggy pal Allie, have come to regard even the best-stocked hotel bath with a jaundiced eye.

"Only 3 bath towels," she'll report from her lovely suite.

"Mine, too," I'll establish after a cursory examination.

"Where's the maid's cart?"

As stealthy as cat burglars, we creep down the hallway, looking this way and that for our personal Mecca: the unattended cart replete with stacks of fluffed and folded goodness.

Once secured, they're hoarded in a secret place known only to ladies who entertain the cleanest boys in "ho" business.

Last week in Charlotte, one genteel southerner amused me no end by quoting miscellaneous chapter and verse from this little vixen's blog. When our visit drew to an end, he excused himself to clean up. After the shower turned off, I heard his voice.

"I dried myself off with a hand towel, I hope that's all right," he called out to me from the bath.

"What?" I responded. "You didn't have to do that, I laid out a fresh bath towel for you!"

"Oh, no," he replied, sticking his head around the door to grin at me. "I wouldn't use your big towels. I want to be invited back!"

You gotta love a man with a plan.

Nice grits!

Charlotte's been treating me VERY well, with one small exception (and you know who you are, dickwad)... so halfway through my little tour, I believe I will return.

In that case, I think I can say with no equivocation:

The South shall Rise Again!!

Hooker Haiku ;)

Winging to Motown Wednesday....

sad auto workers

become Pep Boys.

Let this erotic treat take you to a poetic level of sensuous satisfaction...

Thur/Fri
Detroit Airport incall
350/hr... 550/90 min.. 700/2 hrs

Please book through my website.

I love to make you laugh. And moan. And smile all the way home.

Tabu's Tuesday Tutorial: Ins and Outs.

All good things have a beginning, a middle and, equally important to your busy provider, an end.

The trouble is, not everyone seems to realize when it's time to go. Of course you're having fun, and in the post-nookie glow, time seems to stand still as pillow talk replaces the real world. We're enjoying it, too. But as the clock ticks silently past the hour, into ten minutes, 15 minutes, or in really distracted cases, 20 minutes, the push of Other Duties starts knocking on the door.

When it's time to answer, it's time to answer.

Your lovely temporary girlfriend, the skilled temptress who lulled you into such delicious lethargy, can also hint delicately when the curtain needs to fall... so when you hear "It's been so good to see you!"... please.

Rinse it off, tuck it in and fold your tent.

We will bless you as we watch your punctual back depart down the hallway. And we will welcome you back like a king when you return.

Now take that on the road.

As CNN goes, so go we all: The summer of our discontent

No one can claim immunity from the solemn drums of this past week's news... every network anchor has puffed up endlessly with praise for the fallen. Even so, no feeling person could flip merrily through the channels without pausing to reflect, however briefly, 0n the merits of respect and mortality.

But my natural humanity has fallen out of sync with mourning.

As each life has been dispatched according t0 its owner's fame, something's gone missing.

I had no more personal connection than you did, I would guess, to these sadly fallen figures. But I wish for them a more private memorial than Larry King can provide. In the few quiet hours of introspection most of our lives afford, I would like to think that some of us could shed a real, unrehearsed and genuine tear for those we truly mourn.

And then not tell a soul.

Tabu's Tuesday Tutorial: When Mr Softie Strikes!

Performance anxiety. Is there a more dreaded hazard for a hobbyist? If it hasn't happened to you yet, it probably will. Here's how it goes.

You're in the room with the girl of your dreams. You want everything to go perfectly. She's lying before you seductively, her moist lips open, the sweet essence of her secret folds starting to waft ever so subtly into your mind.... and just when everything should be at launch-readiness, the fuse fizzles. She's beckoning you, you glance down nervously to confirm that nothing -- absolutely nothing-- is ready for lift-off and the ensuing moments are the test of anyone's self-confidence and equanimity.

How you handle it can mean the difference between a disaster and a hiccup.

A smart fellow like you doesn't say a word to draw attention to your plight.

"Come here, beautiful," you say."Let me taste that delicacy for a while."

Soon you're losing yourself in the act of pleasing her. As your tongue teases out her creaminess, her moans begin to lengthen, the heat begins to rise.... and the next thing you know, you're feeling that welcome urgency that only the ownership of a hard cock can deliver.

Now it's up to you to take it where you will.

Well, now, class, that wasn't so hard, was it?

Oh, that's right..... it's very hard.

Now go in and play.

Winning hearts and minds

is the start of winning happy repeat visits, I'm finding.

Lately I've had an unusual number of new friends who clearly crave validation for their desires... and for themselves.

Perhaps it's the turbulent times that's manhandling my new friends... and when they come to see me, I understand that words, a smile and a touch can fulfill one very basic need.

My time comes with many small pleasures... and one larger one. Acceptance.

Let's treat each other as if we count. Because we do.

This birthday girl needs to Blow!!

OK, so today is my birthday, and I am so mad.

I had a tooth pulled on Friday afternoon, and the dentist ordered me not to suck ANYthing.

Now, how can I have a fun birthday with a swollen jaw and a big hole (so to speak!)?

I tell you, the gods are laughing today.

pitiful kisses,


Tabu

A tiny little tour to expand my tiny little mind....

Ah, Cambridge, MA... home of MIT, Harvard, Radcliffe, and the dearly remembered and now departed ManRay, the oldest continually-running fetish club in the U.S.

When this Texas girl shook off her southern ways and transplanted herself to Boston, almost 20 years ago, it took a while to thaw the natives out. But once she warmed up the famously icy reserve of the New Englanders, life was interesting, cultured and freaky.

Now, does this 6-year Florida transplant still relish her parka-free winters? And does the home of the lobster roll still call her name?

Yes and yes.

So when I come to make a tiny little dent in the wallets and libidos of my fine Boston boys, think of it this way. I'm just getting a little bit of Boston back in my blood.

It's a fair exchange.

Cambridge, June 14-16.

The lure of eBay.... "Step away from the computer!"

Damn. Lately I'm having real trouble resisting eBay.

It reminds me of the Borg. (Resistance is futile; you will be assimilated!)

The only thing is, if you succumbed to the Borg, at least you had a shot with Seven of Nine.

There's something to be said for that!

From the peanut gallery...

Yesterday, "Teleplay@aol.com" was kind enough to email me the following career advice:


TABU???? MAN THE 80'S ARE GONE...

GO AND CHANGE YOUR HAIR DOOO
YOU ARE SO FUCKING UGLY...

I BETTER PAY 350 TO MY GRANDMOTHER...
RETIRE...GO HOME FUCK...SO PATHETIC


I don't know how I was lucky enough to merit his attention, much less the style and career how-to's.... but I hope his grandmother is happy to get $350!

rolling merrily along,

Tabu

Creamy, willing, thrilling redheaded MILF....

Has your sexual curiosity been honed over years of exploration and practice? Mine has... and I still have so many avenues left to discover with you!

This Sunday-Wednesday... you'll find me downtown in an upscale Chicago hotel. And you'll always find me eager to entertain you like a re-discovered lover.

**RS2K and Date-Check members only**

Please send your info to my email for an appointment.

350/hr...550/90 min...700/2 hrs

You'll never forget Tabu.

What a delicious mind f-ck!

My trip to DC set some delectable new standards in Tabu-licious clientele... some handsome specimens, to be sure, but more enticingly, some brainy/kinky/let me tickle your inner wildchild fellows that never fail to get me going. Yumm, yumm.

Now I have to remove my fingers from that moist little furnace and put them back on the keyboard... at least for as long as it takes me to type this.

Back as soon as I'm done.

Name change: District of Concubines!

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Cunning Linquists on Parade!

THE WASHINGTON POST ASKED READERS TO TAKE ANY WORD FROM THE DICTIONARY, ALTER IT BY ONE LETTER, AND SUPPLY A NEW DEFINITION. HERE ARE THE WINNERS:

(My favorites in blue)

1. Cashtration (n.): The act of buying a house, which renders the subject financially impotent for an indefinite period of time.
2. Ignoranus: A person who's both stupid and an asshole.
3. Intaxication: Euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you realize it was your money to start with.
4. Reintarnation : Belief that one will come back to life as a hillbilly.
5. Bozone (n.): The substance surrounding stupid people that stops bright ideas from penetrating.
6. Foreploy: Any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of getting laid.
7. Giraffiti: Vandalism spray-painted very, very high.
8. Sarchasm: The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn't get it.
9. Inoculatte: To take coffee intravenously when you are running late.
10. Osteopornosis: A degenerate disease. (This one got extra credit.)
11 . Karmageddon: It's like, when everybody is sending off all these really bad vibes, right? And then, like, the Earth explodes and it's like, a serious bummer.
12. Decafalon (n.): The grueling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you.
13. Glibido: All talk and no action.
14. Dopeler effect: The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.

My own contribution for today:

Reliculous. An individual overly-obsessed with his oral skills.

"My brains could kick her brains' butt."

Except when she's an Ivy League brain! (Score one for Tabu!) Giggle.

Voicemail from a whore?

Someone in Springfield, IL doesn't like me.

Yesterday afternoon, my Tabu phone rang, and as always, I waited for my phone-answering system to prompt the caller for his or her name. When the moment came, a female voice hissed "Dirty whore!"

My, oh, my. A phone call from Dirty Whore. What a very interesting name to bestow upon a daughter.

I let the call go to voicemail, and retrieved the message later in the evening-- very curious to hear what such a colorful caller had to say for herself.

"You look much older than you really are," she spitted. "Actually, you look like a transsexual."

Apparently she ran out of imagination at that point, because the line went dead.

Darling "Dirty," I'm truly sorry that you're upset with me-- for whatever reason. But if you're going to call names, get with the program.

I'm a naughty girl by nature. I'm a swinger by choice. And I'm a hooker with enthusiasm. There's hardly a name in the book I wouldn't answer to proudly.

If you were looking to shame me... well, I don't blush easily. So as one badly aging transsexual to another, let's make a deal.

I won't publish your phone number, which I now have saved.... and maybe you can think a bit more cogently before you let your fingers do the stalking.

OK. Gotta go.

Rule #1: Learn from the movies.

OK, I know you're all thinking that I'm just super hot for those rough-riding Brits like Daniel Craig and Jason Stathan (pictured left), and of course, I plead guilty.

But what you may not know is just how much I model my existence on the fine examples these boys demonstrate for me every time I fast-forward, double-clutch and rewind.

So, with a special red-lipped kiss blown to Frank Martin, the cool-headed and fast-driving hero of the Transporter (1,2 and 3) movies... allow me to pass along the latest epiphany he delivered right to my door.

Rules are sexy.

"What??" you may ask, "Since when is letting other people tell you what to do... sexy?"

Who said anything about other people? I'm talking about the rules you create for yourself... the ones that let you forget about the world's expectations... and let you drive right to your goal.

In every Transporter film, Frank has to educate his ne'er-do-well clients that he operates by very strict rules... guidelines that allow him to navigate the sometimes treacherous curves that underlie his mission to deliver the goods. No one is allowed to break those rules... not even him.

Of course, the movies being what they are-- it's not till someone tweaks the rules that the action really gets started.

Lately I've been thinking that I wouldn't want to live with a such bad boy-- but there's definite pussy appeal in his passion to get the job done.

So what does all this have to do with your vixen Tabu? Or you?

Just one small wish from your big-titted bitch. That I'll soon be opening my door to even more of these complicated, sexy boys who know that the best games are played when everyone follows the rules. Because when fire in the belly meets cool-headed resolve, the results can rev any red-blooded girl's motors.

So if you like to play within- let's say "gentlemen's rules-" you'll find a very willing partner riding shotgun.

Wild, wicked, just-within-the-lines seduction. I've learned something from the movies.

Searching for that perfect new position?

On newsstands now... let Tabu assist you in uncovering the skills you may be overlooking!

This issue, a steal at $350.

Remember-- there's always something big in even the smallest opportunity!

New Year, New Pics, New Website!

What else is new? Hmmm. I still love being that naughty, Ivy League MILF... especially when I'm on my knees in front of a favorite boy, showing off my education!

Would you like a peek at my new home on the web? Check it out and let me know what you think!

www.discovertabu.com

If it gets you in the mood for a little guiltless pleasure... you know what to do.


purring,

Tabu

What's a little Dirty Laundry between Friends? (or, now THAT was a Party!)

Just around Thanksgiving, the questions started to trickle in.

"You guys having a New Year's Eve party again this year?"

"Hey, hope you're doin' the New Year's thing again!"

"Don't forget to invite us!"

So bowing to the not-too-subtle urging of the sweet sixteen (the final number who crammed our play-space with perfumed bodies and cork-popping camaraderie), we anointed the linens, doused the lights, and stacked the playlist with come-hither tunes.

It was Noah's Ark with a spin. Everyone arrived neatly paired, but no-one stayed that way for long. In fact, we might have created some very interesting genetic variations, had someone thought to unravel the double helix of legs and twisted panties.

But priorities being what they were, your hostess (AKA the Vixen Tabu) simply poured fuel on the fire by circulating with bottles of bubbly and disentangling her stilettos when the going got tight.

Midnight came and went with kisses, then more kisses, then the rising heartbeat of newly-minted new year's resolutions... which all seemed to center on the very practical idea of spreading the love.

By now the ottoman was shoved off to the side and the carpet was hidden under a living tapestry of rhythmic movement. The king-size sheet spread under the melee shifted as knees and ankles took on a complex dance. Wet spots- gasp!- spread under trembling fingers, losing their grasp on the champagne flute or other intoxicating geysers....and when the evening turned to dawn, then to noon, even the hardiest of revelers were fighting sleep.

Off to their own beds the partyers trundled, and the sagging SO completed his hostly duty by tossing the sheets, towels and assorted damp playthings into the wash.

It was the next day when I had to giggle. Lifting the clean, damp linens from the washer, I caught a flutter of blue escape into the air; then another. As I bent over to stuff the heavy sheets into the dryer, I licked a finger and caught a fluttering square.

It was the cleanest, most pristine Durex wrapper this vixen has ever seen.

Now when you consider sexiness next to godliness, then sometimes cleanliness must take second place. But I think my laundry proved Woody Allen's famous contention: that sex isn't dirty unless you're doing it right.

Happy New Year.