(Trigger Warning – Prostitution, Substance Abuse, and Raunchy Sex)

Originally Published April 19, 2023

“To have true power over your life, you need your own money”

It’s August 2011 and I’m out for my 22nd birthday bash. Per usual I am drinking a ton and having a lot of fun. I am with my college friends bar hopping and end up at a flashy night club. We are pounding shots, hysterically laughing, and dancing like maniacs. One minute I am screaming 22 do the dew!! And the next thing I know it’s the next morning and I’m spooning with some random dude. His arm is around me but I have no idea what he looks like… How romantic, right?

I slowly turn over and take a look at him. To my pleasant surprise he is fine as hell. He has dark tan skin, black hair, a cute smile, and a diamond studded Rolex watch. We both wake up and he asks me if I want to go out for a bday breakfast. I say yes and we climb into his brand new Mercedes-Benz. I realize at that moment that I have caught myself a rich, foreign, successful, party man in his 30s. He had that Jersey Shore attitude and style – With lots more money. Just my type. Score!!

From a young age I became obsessed with exotic rich men. By the time I started college I hated working and would sleep with anyone that would pay my bills, buy me cars, and sponsor my expensive party girl lifestyle. I had huge commitment issues and always picked men I couldn’t have – Due to them being married, emotionally unavailable, or hard-core religious. This guy was from a strict muslim family and was literally not allowed to be with me. Perfect.

We began to hang out regularly and partied like rockstars. I had hot young friends and he had the money to take us to the best restaurants, clubs, and shopping centers. I was his American dream and he was my Indian lover.

We started casually dating and hooking up like sex addicts. He was attractive and had a huge cock but was selfish as fuck in bed. I didn’t care though, because he was paying for everything. My rent, my food, my clothes, my vacations and he bought me computers, phones and 2 cars during our relationship.

How did I manage to have these men pay for my life? I definitely had a system and was a freak in bed. Bipolar Disorder gave me insanely high confidence and the balls to do risky and adventurous things.

I always picked men from other countries that were deeply religious. They believed that helping me financially was doing right in the eyes of whatever God they prayed to. I would also fake cry about having alcoholic parents, mental health issues, and create elaborate stories as to why I needed money. I was a wonderful actress when it came time to get my bills paid.

My first rich muslim taught me the golden rule – Once you go pink you can’t think. Foreign men get hypnotized by pink American pussy!! I used this to my advantage many times. I also picked busy business men that worked 2 or 3 jobs.

In this arrangement I would frequently do my signature theatrics when I needed money and he would send it to me. He didn’t have time to fight so he always said yes. We lived in separate cities and were far from faithful to each other. We were fast, loud, sexual, and toxic as hell.

In exchange for my financial arrangements I had to do whatever they wanted sexually. Essentially I was a live-in prostitute. This guy had extremely high sex drive and wanted to fuck multiple times a day. I had to give him road head or drive his car while he watched porn and yanked it. He always wanted me to give him blow jobs under his desk while he worked on his laptop and smoked cigarettes. He was making 300$ an hour so I obeyed. The more money they have, the more manipulative they are.

He was so desensitized from all the sex and porn that we had to do wild things in order for him to cum. He loved rape fantasy, so I played into it. He would slam me against the wall and I would pretend I was being attacked by a stranger. He would rip down my pants and fuck me from the back while I proceeded to fake scream. He loved it.

The problem – I was actually falling in love with this guy. He told me that we would never work because he had to get an arranged marriage to one of his wealthy muslim cousins. 

Of course not being allowed to be with him made me want him more, so I said fuck it!! And we dated anyways. 4 months turned into 4 years. It was the perfect mix of fun, crazy, drama, and gaslighting. We were together a lot, but rarely got deep about anything, besides penetration. It was sex, money, and parties. Not true love.

After I graduated college from the help of him paying for my final year’s tuition, I moved in with him. I had the fancy cars, the credit card, the designer dog, and a beautiful apartment I decorated. I was always renting cars and driving or flying around the country to party with my friends on his dime. From the outside everything looked perfect but we were far from healthy and things were about to turn sour.

One day I was heading to the airport to do a travel nanny job when he pulled me aside and said he had something to tell me. He looked in my eyes and told me that he was engaged to be married. I shut the door, got on the plane, and traveled across the country on his credit card. Every single thing I needed he paid for. And that was the end of that. He broke my heart and gave me the funds to travel across the country to start my new life.

So how did I move on from my heartbreak and find my next arrangement? Tinder of course. It was literally a full time job for me. I put what I wanted in my bio and swiped through rich foreign dick. I am a strong believer in the following statement: If you want something, ask for it.

The easiest way for me to make quick money was fucking married men. They had clean dicks, couldn’t commit, and paid top dollar. Sometimes I would fuck them for 5 minutes and make over a thousand dollars. I always took the money before I stripped naked, because they lie and get cheap. I would say, put the cash on the table or I’m walking out.

In between my serious boyfriends and cash hookups I would also do fuck and flys. This would involve me swiping at airports and asking men to fly me around the country. I would say, “Whoops! Looks like I missed you. You have points and I have time, let’s do some travel dating.”

I matched with a guy that lived in San Francisco and we got to talking. He told me that he was originally from Moscow, Russia and that he was very adventurous. We talked and video chatted for a week and he booked me round trip tickets to San Francisco. I arrived at the airport in San Jose, grabbed my bag, and met my guy outside the terminal. He greeted me with a big hug and I instantly knew that he would be a great 5 day vacation boyfriend.

He was 6’2 with a very muscular physique and a strong Russian accent, making me weak in the knees. We went back to his house and got right to it. I don’t know if it was the dirty Russian talk or the thrill of our first encounter, but the sex was mind-blowing. After our third round of intercourse, we took things a little further… Like if you know how to hump, you can put it in my rump.

Everything was feeling great when he came to a sudden stop. I knew this couldn’t be good. I turned around and looked at his wide eyes and shocked expression. He walked out of the room and brought back a box of Kleenex. He handed me the box and said I might want to clean up.

Yes, that’s right, folks. I shit on his dick the first day. Most women might be embarrassed, but I am not most women. I had four more days with this guy, and I wasn’t going to ruin the sex. I laughed and motioned him to the restroom. I started the shower and cleaned up the mess so we could wash away the past and start fresh.

After several fuck and flies, I was ready for something more serious. I swiped right on a tall, lean Israeli man, and it was a match. He picked me up from my friend’s apartment, where I was couch surfing, and we went on a date. We started with dinner and continued to his bedroom. After a couple of dates, he invited me to move in with him. I loved the Jewish culture, food, and conversation, so I said yes.

The first few weeks, we were obsessed with each other and were having sex multiple times a day. My guy was tall, fit, with dark hair and a thick, strong cock. He was intelligent and hot-tempered, and that temper meant fabulous sex. He worked hard at his job all day, then worked even harder on me all night. Our sex was rough, kinky, and passionate. He got a specific look in his eyes that gave me goosebumps when our gaze met.

I craved sex when he was at work. Our banging was so wild that we had to do it on the hardwood floor. It was seriously wet and wild. He would make me squirt like a fire hydrant, and we would have to mop up the floor when we were done.

We stayed together for a year. He paid for everything and helped me through a major surgery in which I was on bed rest for months. Everything was great until it wasn’t. We started to fight constantly and then had crazy makeup sex – We would repeat that cycle over and over. I had to get out. So I did.

The following serious arrangement I had was with a Muslim doctor from Sudan. He was crazier than me. Talk about a 2 year Rollercoaster. We went on a couple of dates, and he showed up with a car he had bought for me. I was like, okay, I can fuck with that. We moved into an apartment together and drank our faces off. He chugged whiskey, and I binged box wine. I loved him, but he drove me up the wall.

We pretended we were going to get married and planned our future together—until he got another woman pregnant while we were dating. I broke up with him and moved out. Three months later, he called me and said he inherited 6 million dollars. It was tempting, but I wasn’t doing it.

He told me he still looks at my social media daily and that I could have it all. But the truth is, I finally realized money isn’t everything. He and I needed to break up. He could have shoved 6 million dollars up my pussy, and it wouldn’t have saved our toxic relationship.

Throughout the past 4 years, one wealthy married Nigerian man couldn’t quit me. Old habits die hard, especially if it is guaranteed good sex with someone you love. It’s complicated. The taboo of wanting someone that you can’t have takes the romance to the next level.

He loved to spoil me and took me out almost every night. He bought me presents and brought me to high-end restaurants. Each time we saw each other, it was magical. We hugged and kissed like we were each other’s whole worlds. Time stood still when I was with him. We had such magnetic energy that strangers always asked us how long we had been together. If only they knew he was wifed up for a green card.

We were having sex for over 3 years, and each time felt new. He always kissed me on the forehead and ran his fingers through my hair. He told me how beautiful I was and kissed my neck and shoulders with luscious lips. He made me crazy when he licked and sucked on my light pink nipples. I would try to stand straight, but my body would tremble as he moved down to my navel.

Then he would whisper in my ear, I want to taste you. I always nodded yes as he pushed me down on the bed. He nibbled my clit and used his fingers to slide into my sweet spot. As he gradually got more intense the waterworks would soak both of us. We fucked for hours and needed snacks and drinks in between rounds. We were high as hell and passionately in lust.

Once he separated from his wife, we tried dating for real multiple times. I fell hard and thought it was finally going to happen for us. But I was wrong. Men who cheat with you will most likely cheat on you.

He of course had another side chick, Blessing, whom I caught him talking to on Thanksgiving night in 2021. I was heartbroken again. I ended things with him and numbed out for months. Then I packed up my shit, drove from Denver to Portland, and met my current boyfriend at Bar of the Gods. In hindsight, it indeed was a blessing…

Many women and men fantasize about someone wealthy taking care of their every need, and in my 20s, I did too. I thought I had everything – The rich men, the cars, the clothes, the vacations, and the steamy sex, but on the inside, I always felt empty.

My only focus was on bank accounts, dick, and traveling around the country. During these arrangements, all I did was fuck for money and give up on my life goals. I was taking the easy way out, and it made me miserable.

As I got older, I realized that the only way to have complete power over my life was to make money. I knew deep down that if I wanted a happy life, I would have to build it on my own. Not sucking some guy’s dick for money. Living that fast, shallow lifestyle was fun but also very exhausting. Without purpose and true love, I had nothing.

Now, I am officially retired. I finally started paying my bills and fell deeply in love with my wonderful Mexican best friend and partner. I am in my first healthy relationship ever and couldn’t be happier.

To all my sugar daddies and men who flew me and blew me, thanks for the cash, cars, vacations, and wild rides. God Bless!

Till next time, roll out with your hole out!!