My name is actually Franceska, but when I fuck up the spelling like that, it appears a little more exotic AND it keeps strangers from finding me online or anywhere else for that matter.


I am 45 years old and I work the afternoon, business lunch crowd.


Back in the day, I did some nudie mags and a few "scenes" as they are called in adult films.


Oh, I was no Jenna or Janine.


I never made it that far.


Then again, those ladies aren't exactly living their best lives at the moment now, either.


It kinda sucks, kinda embitters you, because you give everything you have to these guys and their fantasies, and then in the end, after they have bled you dry, they are off with a 19-year-old somewhere, and we are still hanging on to our youth, trying to pay the goddamn bills.


So I get my revenge with these suits, coming in for "lunch."


I've met a few who are nicer than others, but I do not feel sorry for them in the least.


They usually have trophy wives at home on top of it all.


Fuck these guys, they are all players.


I will happily take their money.


My last husband, Ben, promised me the world...


I should have known since there had been two other husbands before him, that he was just as full of shit as they were.


He decided to unalive himself with one of his more expensive ties, in our walk-in closet.


There was no life insurance, no nothing.


I was left on my own, to figure out just what the fuck.


He had an older daughter from way back who suddenly got real interested.


She tried to tell everyone that her addict father would have never done this, that there must be foul play involved. This, only after I told her that there was no money to give to her. She was super sweet before that.

Go figure.


Anyway, no one bought it and she soon had to move on to her next victim, which was the ex of her current guy.


She put that poor girl in a mental hospital.


Fuckin' narcissist.


Just like her father.


I did have a giggle though, when I saw her dude in here applying for a job, of all things.


Milo, the manager, always asks me for my opinion when we hire new staff. I have been here 8 years so I know every little thing about this place.


I told him, "Hire that skinny fuck, and I walk." I was dead serious too.


There's a sex toy shop right down the road that hires private lingerie "models," and they've been after me for years.


I make way better money here though, plus I have my nights off.


My nights are important to me because I watch my granddaughter so my daughter can take night classes.


She wants to be a lawyer and since no one argues better than her, I know she is going to be stellar at it.


She was just little when her dad decided to take the big exit so she never really knew him.


But sometimes, she will open her mouth to speak and her damn dead dad will just pop right out. I have to be honest, it makes me miss him a little.


I will go see his grave sometimes, and sit there and just talk to him like he can hear me.


If he wasn't dead, I am sure he'd wish he was because I don't take it easy on him at all.


Fuck him for taking the easy way out and for leaving me with debt and a failed business and an estranged family.


Fuck him for making it so I have to go sell my tits and ass just to pay the bills.


When I see him in hell, it's on.


I'm going to march right past him and give the Devil the most erotic lap dance anyone has ever seen.


And I'll lock eyes with him the entire time.


This could be you, Fucker! But you left me here to fend for myself.


You left me far behind...