"The hobby of mongering women is a man's armor in shielding his cowardice. No men is wielding his worthiness in his addiction of mongering women as we sluts have seen enough men in our career of escorting debauched men"
Addiction to women is similar to alcohol and abusing woman is an effort by a man to shield his wimpy.
We hussy women had been pursuing the job of escorting as when the fate had doomed us satanically to pursue the noble profession of dampening a lascivious man.
In our life as hookers we sluts have a fatal wound in our conscience which is perpetual by nature even once after we retire in our life as hookers the smell of men keeps lingering around us for a long time.
There is a time for every slut to get retired in her life whoring around and the time is when we could keep smelling the scent of men ingrained in us as we hookers try to live a life of our own.
The clout of being a hustler has a deep rooted effect on us women as we try to live a life ending being a strumpet all over our life.
The smell of men
The scent of men
The face of men
The feel of men
The closeness of men
The warmth of men
The warm hugs of men.
The kisses of men.
Keeps us hustlers driving to end less sleep less nights trying to figure out a cure to the nightmares of men crushing on us endlessly.
The clout men had cursed on hussy women by continuously preying on hookers had left the psyche of a hustler wounded permanently with no cure other than mental strength in her to over come the scent of men stinking on her all over.
The dreams are nightmarish for a floozy women with men pounding on her endlessly with faces that are scary to the core as we raunchy women bid adieu to our profession of escorting we still get close ups of men drubbing on our faces.
The clout is still a wound with a hustler doing a job of dousing the lust in licentious men who if ever had no choice will be preying on a virtuous women.
We hustlers were virgins once as we never aspired to be selling our virginity or bartering love and lust for a living as it dawned one fine morning when we were satanically cursed in pursing a job of whoring around we bimbo women have taken it up with all the strength that lies within us with no cowardice in looking back as we moved forward in our life to live a life of a hooker and with all the brawniness with no fatigue killing us in our life as a slut.
The aftermath of renouncing our job of escorting men is endangering our life more than as we lived the life of sluts the wounds are engraved deep inside us as we see scariest hallucinations of men still panting in our faces.
The lights on a glamour lady floods her with fans as there is darkness encircled in the escorting field puzzled onlookers gaze on us with inquisitiveness as we hustlers try to run our life of escorting the salacious infected gentleman.