Reverse Cowgirl (warning: her site has that NSFW American Apparel ad running down the side) says that submissions for her two blog projects, Letters from Johns and Letters from Working Girls, will be ending on January 14th, 2009.
Letters from Johns has run about fifty letters from anonymous men who pay for sex. The letters are, for the most part creepy, but some are sad. Here’s the beginning of one:
I am now in my mid 40s. In my early 20s, a time when I had very little sex experience, I’d gotten married. We were incompatible sexually, never really comfortable together that way. Still, we had a big group of friends and family. Because of that (and just plain fear of change,) we stayed together for several years.
During this time of sexual frustration at home, I became obsessively interested in streetwalkers. At first I would just go to different parts of town where street prostitutes worked and watch them. Then one day I paid for a blowjob and it was on— every chance I got I was out getting street sex. In the car, in alleys, doorways and parking lots, in the hallways of apartment buildings, once in an airshaft of a public housing project, in the cab of an abandoned truck and sometimes in scary hotels.
Letters from Working Girls has run significantly fewer letters than Letters from Johns. Some of the letters are fascinating:
I am not terribly good at writing letters, which is strange because my day job is one for which I write constantly. I am a journalist call girl. Or at least I was, until recently. I met someone. I quit before he had a chance to ask me to. It’s just easier that way.
I think at this juncture, I should defend the men that came to see me. There was nothing wrong with them, and they were not perverts. Most of my clients were single, unhappily married or married to a person that couldn’t understand their needs. One even had a wife with cancer. I know you’re probably thinking that he’s the worst of all, but sex is important. He needed the comfort and solace of flesh against flesh, and in today’s society, the only way to get the flesh against flesh comfort is sex…
Both projects were a year long. If you have something you’d like to contribute anonymously, now is the time, although both sites will stay up for your browsing, um, pleasure.
STFU, Will. Pre-emptively. Just in case.
So AA ads are pretty much straight up porn now, eh? At least they’re not shying away from beautiful, beautiful bush.
Mr. Poe’s heaven!
Uh Paul— finally here you present an article about fucking and you didn’t once write “fuck” or “fucking” or even “motherfucking” in your post.
You are hopeless………….
That ad.
That ad…
Like everything formerly natural in this world, they restrict the supply, bid up the price, make it illegal and impossible to have, and then condemn and arrest people for trying to get a hold of some…
That’s Sasha Grey in the porn ad… er, American Apparel ad. Interesting.
She’s super hot, with perfect busty substances, but I wouldn’t touch her with a ten foot pole. Girl’s crazy. She likes to puke up big macs during sex.
It took me 10 minutes of reloading the page to see this advert with no joy. Then I disabled AB+.
Interesting. I like a nice pelt on a lady.
Wait, when did we as a nation decide to put pornography in advertisements, and why did it take so long to do?
Spitzer’s way less sexy without his teeth.
Now that I’m not at work, I can finally look.
…
HOLY SHIT SASHA GREY’S BUSH IS TRYING TO SELL ME SOMETHING.
Thank you, Jesus.
America is married to the idea that reality and need is trumped by ideology. It’s costing this society vast resources telling adults they can’t trade money for sex. We could be taxing what is normal, adult, sexual behavior. Beside the fact that if it were legal it would be vastly safer for the women (i.e. Green River killer, etc.) and Johns (test for disease) and the women of Johns.