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.

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.

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

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.

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.

Last 2 days to pre-book for Cleveland!

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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!

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.

Chicago's finest (memorable moments on the road)

The Wonders-of-Modern-Technology Dept.

Client: (admiring my breasts) "Who do I have to thank for these? You-- or your surgeon?"
Me: "Well, she did do an excellent job... but remember, I supplied the raw material!"


The What-Does-the-U.N.-Know? Dept.

Me: (undressing a young Asian client only to discover a large piece of equipment) "My, you certainly dispel the myth about Asian men!"
Client: "Well, I'm only half-Japanese."
Me: "And I think I know which half!"

The Guess-I Should-Have-Had-a-V8 Dept.

After working assiduously for 45 minutes (and failing) to get my creamy reward, the client calls me off his erection and remarks ruefully, "Maybe I shouldn't have jerked off twice yesterday, looking at your pictures!"

The Salary-and-Benefits Dept.

Regular client, after completing our date: "Man, I really need to find a better job. "
Me: "But I thought you liked your job."
Client: "Well, I just need one that pays $350 a week more!"

*************************************************************************

I love a good O with a side order of giggles. Thank you again, my midwestern lovelies. See you in the spring!

Discrimination on the perk (Or, even escorts need their Joe!)

Last week, while waiting for my flight in Detroit, I killed some time wandering through the gift shop.

One display immediately caught my eye: Your Profession on a Coffee Mug. And there they were, cute as daisies, arranged alphabetically by dozens of titles...

teacher, lawyer, secretary, coach, bartender, mom....

Finally, I thought. I'll find a mug for my special job!

Hurriedly I scanned the "E"s..... but no. Then the "P"s...... no again. Even the "H"s. As a last resort, I dropped to my knees to check that lowest of all possible rows, the "W"s.

The electricians, police officers, hair stylists and window-washers could all enjoy their java in a personalized yellow and black cup... but where did that leave me and my friends?

Talk about a whorrendous oversight!

But you know, it got me thinking. If I run into this kind of discrimination again, it might just inspire me to start my own line of goods for my beleaguered colleagues. Now all I need is a name.

How's Abercrombie and Bitch?

During today's flight to Detroit, a big-eyed blonde

made her way down the airplane aisle and whispered, "May I sit here?"

My seat-mate and I- two steady, middle-aged customers- gave her one quick look and moved our feet aside. The poor dear was clearly terrified.

Four rows ahead, a jovial drunk had turned into a threatening one... and while the burly male flight attendant had a serious talk with him, our nervous friend had made her escape.

"I can't believe there are people like that," she murmured, never taking her eyes off his bobbing head. "He was going to hit me!"

After a few moments the flight attendant came back with reassurances.

"You just stay on board for a few minutes after we land," he advised her. "We're going to detain him so he can't do you any harm once you deplane or while you're getting your baggage."

Somehow this failed to comfort our frightened friend.

But sure enough, after we landed, there was a pause while two of Detroit's finest shouldered their way onto MD-80 and cuffed the charmer. An outburst not fit for my delicate ears met this show of force.... but by then, the entire plane was riveted.

As I stepped onto the jetway, I couldn't resist. Pausing by one of the officers assembled to handle the fracas, I looked up and smiled.

"What would we ladies do without you?" I asked in my most innocent tone. "Sometimes you just need a boy in blue!"

He visibly swelled in his uniform shirt, fighting the smile that threatened to take over his face.

"Just doing our job, ma'm," he downplayed.

Playfully I gave his name badge a light pat as I moved past him. "Well, keep it up, officer!"

And I meant every word of it. Just not on my beat!

The 7 Habits of Highly Effective Hobbyists

What separates a decently successful hobbyist (sometimes gets the girl he wants, strikes out as often as he hits, expends a lot of cell minutes trying to hook up)...

from the hobbyist who quietly and confidently enjoys the sensual delights of his absolute favorites?

After three years in this delicate dance, I've seen the good, the bad and absolutely unforgivable. In the process, I've learned a few things myself. So for the fellows who'd like to improve their average, I'm offering the following observations. May they help you score the big Kahuna, whoever she may be.

1. Highly Effective Hobbyists PLAN AHEAD. This is especially crucial when a lady's on tour. After I've advertised on my blog for 3-4 weeks, Eros for a week and announced on TER several times in advance of my arrival, I still get initial calls on the very last night of a tour. To my great amusement, these spontaneous souls are shocked that my time is already booked.

Would you wait for the night of the Prince concert to call TicketMaster? OK, then.

2. Highly Effective Hobbyists OFFER THEIR CREDENTIALS. If I don't know you, a one-line email stating, "Hi, I'm Joe, Are you available tonight?" is going straight into the trash. The reservation form on my website has been crafted to get just what I need from you-- no more, no less. And since many of us ladies also offer easy screening shortcuts through Date-Check, RS2K or Preferred 411, there's really no excuse for the old "I didn't realize you needed to know who I am" ploy.

Would you let a nameless, potentially nefarious stranger into your bedroom? OK, maybe if her tits were big enough. But we girls have tits of our own.

3. Highly Effective Hobbyists DO THEIR RESEARCH. Nothing charms a lady more than the fellow who asks her to reiterate every piece of information that's already on her website, her ad, her TER profile, or her blog.

Even the MILFs among us don't have the time or the inclination to spoon-feed you. After all, aren't you the boys who sent a man to the moon?

4. Highly Effective Hobbyists LEAVE THEIR EGO AT THE DOOR. We know you're a big man at work. Leagues of lowly-paid minions cower at your presence. But lording it over the lady you've selected for some very intimate companionship is simply bad form. Of the dozen or so clients whom I truly detested and will never see again, the main common denominator was arrogance.

Yes, we're here to please. But you know the saying.... if Momma ain't happy, then nobody's getting the goods.

5. Highly Effective Hobbyists LEAVE US WANTING MORE. You wouldn't linger at the party till the exhausted hosts stagger off to bed. So when you're enjoying the lady's company, be equally aware that when the party's over, it's over.

We want to feel regretful that you had to leave after only an hour... not remember that we had to drag your ass to the door after you camped out for an extra 30 minutes, sloooowly tying your shoes. That's what loafers are for.

6. Highly Effective Hobbyists LIKE WOMEN. As odd as it may sound, some of our clients resent us, look down on us, and simply don't have our best interests at heart. These are the fellows who quiz us on our private lives, ask our real names, disclose confidential details to other parties, or gossip about us to their other dates.

It wasn't attractive in high school, and you can't fit into those pants anymore, either.

7. Highly Effective Hobbyists KNOW IT'S JUST A HOBBY. Yes, we adore being your girlfriend for an hour or two... and when you're genuinely nice, we often have very fond feelings for your presence in our lives. So let's agree... we won't fall in love with you, call you at home, get our feelings hurt when you see another lady, or boil your rabbit.

Do the same by us, and we'll be good.

Why Johnny can't read, or, what the teacher's doing after school

This trip to Chitown has raised even my kink factor a little... and I have to love it when what appears to be a mild-mannered GFE boy devolves into a hot little freaky boy....

Yesterday, Miss Tabu was a loving schoolteacher, who had to hold her favorite student after class for a serious talk. While I was cleaning the blackboard, my sweet student carefully donned his fishnets and skirt, stuffed his bra and once into a long blond wig, emerged as "Amy."

Poor girl... she trembled as I sat close and reminded her that she was only 14... too young to be caught behind the bleachers, experimenting with boys. It was clearly my job to show her what boys can really do. After an intimate first-hand demonstration, she shudderingly agreed that Teacher knew best.

Detention was never like this.

Good news/Bad news... and espresso!

Damn, I love Chicago.

Some of my all-time favorite clients call this city home-- and don't they make me feel right at home every time I'm here?

This morning I get to see a charming example of old-school sexy... the man George Clooney wants to be when he grows up. Later, a creative young type who always makes for an interesting interlude. The next few days are punctuated with the anticipation of new friends and the warm glow of getting to know older friends all over again.

I'm sorry to say I had one regrettable cancellation so far- a 2-hour date on Wednesday afternoon. Darn business trips, don't you hate them? After all, what does London have that I don't? OK, Big Ben. But after that, it's close.

On the other hand, I had a lovely surprise when an old friend called yesterday. I can't wait to say hello with a delicious kiss.

And finally, when I woke up early this morning (I'm still on eastern time!) I explored my neighborhood for a decent cup of Joe. Voila! It's amazing how a little espresso makes everything hum.

What's the forecast for CHICAGO??

When I was there in April, a freak blizzard made my nipples harder than the IQ test for Mensa. So this time, I'm bringing the heat with me! (Miami heat, that is!)

From Monday, July 9 to Thursday, July 12, a sultry breeze will be circling downtown... and with it, the warm promise of:

- delicious Tabu kisses
- pulse-quickening, full-press Tabu passion
- and explosive Tabu satisfaction

Do you like to slip into a little mental anticipation? Let the Mistress of Roleplay take you into a parallel universe of pleasure!

Any way you map it out, you'll be VERY glad you came.

Pre-booking highly recommended... RS2K, Date-Check and Preferred411 members given highest priority!

Traveling with playmate Allie for supreme duo delight!

Please don't wait to secure your assignation with mmmmmmm.

Touring gift: 350/hr, 550/1.5 hrs, 700/2 hours
Incall only, please.

Can't wait to get you wet!

Paris Hilton, Tiger Woods and Tabu?

While I can appreciate the perks of being rich, I've never understood the quest for celebrity. Sure, it may get you past a velvet rope or two, but what about when you're on the way to 7-11? Do you really want paparazzi dogging your Slurpee-craving butt?

Last week in Tampa, my friend Allie was very amused when I got "outed" on the street. Some poor slob in a pickup- probably an honest hobbyist or lurker- comes rolling up as we're walking back to our hotel, coffee in one hand, Walgreen's bag in the other, in jeans, sunglasses and in decidedly non-provider mode.

"Hey," he yells from the driver's seat. "Are you Tabu?"

I quickly glance at Allie in a bit of a panic. "Excuse me?"

"ARE YOU TABU?!?" he bellows.

"I don't know what you mean," I manage to stutter out, blessing the red light that's keeping him from following us as we turn the corner.

We get all of ten feet away before Allie bursts out laughing.

"Shut up," I mutter. "Jesus! Just tell everybody in Tampa, why don't you, asshole!"

She can no longer contain herself. "Hah, hah, you're famous! I'm so impressed! I'm with a celebrity!"

"Oh, yeah, that's great," glancing back over my shoulder. "What if you'd been my sister, or a civvie friend who doesn't know I'm Tabu? That would be pretty hard to explain, wouldn't it?"

For a nano-second she considers that scenario."Well, yes, that could be pretty awkward," she concedes. Her face sobers, then lightens again.

"But I'm not! And you're so famous he knew you from a single glance! Oh my God!"

Well, dear readers, I do not consider myself famous... at least outside of a small circle of interested parties in Miami, Chicago, DC and now, perhaps, Tampa.

But if in your wanderings, you do spot a certain busty redhead that you're sure you've seen before, do me a favor, please. Wait till I'm gone before alerting the media.

I'll do the same for you.

Packing my bags...

I love packing for a Tabu tour... let's see. Better not forget:

• Stockings and garterbelt
• push-up bras and curve-hugging thongs
• sexy stilettos
  
• light perfume to spritz in secret places
• schoolgirl skirt, Naughty Nurse outfit and other roleplay looks
• lots of "supplies"
• corkscrew
  
• naughty toys
• energy bars
• "Let's Go-for-It" attitude!

See you in Tampa!

The Three Faces of Tabu... Coming soon to Tampa!

Ever since I unleashed my Ivy-League bad-girl, my titillating reviews have spoken for themselves. But sometimes even I wonder...

How did a little girl from Texas become a "seductress of the highest order?" When did "every man's fantasy" develop her "classy, great style"...all while being "a nasty bad girl?"

Uncovering all the layers of Tabu-- mmm, it's a delicious mission. You never know what you'll find behind each tight curve.

Tabu #1: Sweet and sultry GFE. "She took me in like a passionate schoolgirl."

Tabu #2: Raw and greedy PSE. "I felt like I was being stalked by a sexual feline."

Tabu #3: Kinky roleplay and erotic domination. "Her teasing and sexy-executive look had me ready to explode."

Well, whichever face of Tabu you like best, you boys know that I LOVE to play.. and that my calendar books up FAST. So please, my darling west coasters-- contact me for your appointment now. I'm already booking for May 8-10.

And for the ultimate pleasure, ask about my 2-MILF special with my exquisite traveling partner, Allie.

Quickest screening for Date-Check and Preferred411 members; others please see my website booking form.

You boys KNOW what I like. So let's get ready to rumble!

Wednesday's Special: An authentic Chicago blow-job!

No, naughty minds-- not THAT kind of blow-job. I'm talking about the sleeting, spitting, jaw-chattering, cheek-numbing, hands-buried-in-pockets kind of blow. In other words-- a typical Spring day in the city of broad overcoats.

I absolutely adore Chicago-- ask anyone. But even I was a bit disheartened when I looked out onto an accumulating pile of sleet on my windowsill.

"Here come the cancellations," I thought, eyeing my calendar with regret. Almost immediately the phone rang.

"Hi, this is L--- are we still on for this morning? I know it's a bit windy out, but I'll brave it to see you!"

Later: "Hi, Tabu- I just wanted to let you know that I'm on my way... I left early because of the storm, but I think I'l still be there on time."

Then: "Tabu, I'm on my way to your hotel. Is there anything I can bring you? I know you probably didn't want to go out today."

At the end of the day, lulled with chocolates, wine and the company of some of Chicago's most valiant gentlemen, I fell into the sweet and dreamless sleep of a child who knows she's home.

Thank you all, my dears. I cannot wait to visit you again.

Touring, Anyone?

I've been getting a delightfully flattering number of emails from my friends in Chicago and DC lately... all asking when I'm going to brave the shivers and return for some Tabu-licious encounters.

Well, patience, boys, patience! You're just going to have to keep the local girls busy for a little while longer. As much as I'd love to see each and every one of you today (well, not all at once!), I did move to south Florida for a reason!

When the sun comes back to kiss you, so will I! (Think March!)