Last week I resumed touring with a brief visit to Minneapolis.
I will not reveal my inner East Coast snobbery by detailing my agony over visiting the Midwest but I will say that my feelings were assuaged by my incredible patrons and the astonishing two-story suite which I absolutely did not want to leave.

I awoke at 6a on Friday morning and experienced a happily booked day; I remained awake until 3a Saturday morning and headed to the airport for my return flight.
I really wanted to visit another city but chose to keep a promise to Cosmopolitan Slut Roommate that I would help her celebrate her birthday.

After uneventful travel (no thanks to myself following self-induced paranoia fueled by reading reports of lost luggage statistics of my chosen airline) I anxiously returned to my home.
Touching down in the early afternoon I rushed to unpack and prepare for our party and night of clubbing.

I took her shopping with the intention of buying our party dresses at a posh boutique, she instead opted for a place I call the "ho store" where even no self-respecting stripper would shop.  After an hour at a Brazilian store dedicated to the tightest, the shortest and the brightest colored we found her delight.  
I chose sexy, short charcoal colored satin, the bourgeois slut to her girls-gone-wild slut, and we were yin and yang.

After pinky-swearing to hold each others' hair in the event of binge drinking gone awry and a promise of cock-blocking lame pickup attempts we were off to the races.

Around 8p her guests began pouring into our house.
A perfect mix of guys and girls we did the pregame routine of rounds of shots.  Laughing too loudly and flirting we all fell into a series of cabs a couple of hours later to go to a trendy spot in Back Bay.

On the dance floor I met my nightcap clad in a sexy black velvet blazer and an exceptional smile.
My initial reaction was "get your erection off of my new satin!" (Cosmo's civilian attitude rubs off on me when we're out) but then I relented thinking hey- "nothing wrong with a little hookup- I worked hard in MN, I deserve to...get laid some more."
Emboldened by the liquid courage and his advances I suggested that we get out of there. We caught a cab and made out in between the formalities of where we went to school, politics and the weather of Boston.

Tugging off layers and kissing on the stairs of my house we anxiously made our way to my apartment.  After finding ourselves in my bedroom he slipped his fingers under my skirt, found that I hadn't been wearing panties and began my very favorite movement.  Leaving my heels on I slid the dress off and down his body to give him a deep french kiss in my favorite place.
Slipping him into my mouth I made perhaps half a stroke with a swirl of my tongue and...

I was swallowing.

"I'm really sorry-I was really excited"

"Oh no...it's okay"

After a few moments of chatting and awkward dressing he motioned to my bed as though we were going to have a sleep over.  Realizing I was bored I explained that I had a really long two days, flight and virtually no sleep in many hours.
The infamous "I've got a really early morning" is terribly cliche and doesn't work on weekends anyway.

I woke up to flowers on my doorstep and an invitation to dinner.  I will accept- but most importantly I will have him over next Sunday for the Church of Ally so that we can languish about for a few hours.  He's not ready for my ninja moves.

Xo,
Ally
WhoIsAlly.Moore on Y!

For those who do not know me:
I'm a pretty Black/Flip girl with a medium-athletic / curvy build.
I have a smart, alternative appeal with a healthy & manicured appearance.  
This week a guest shared a quote from Siddhartha with me.  Spoken to a courtesan a woman is told "You're different from the others, you practice love artfully"
I like to think that in addition to escorting being possibly the most hardcore act of feminism I could commit that I do in fact, practice love artfully.