nevada Archives - Kim Airs Sex Toy Review

So, where we last left off, the definition of “party” at The Love Ranch is not popping open a coolie in front of the 64” HDTV with your frat buddies. No, no, no. A party (I’ll leave off the quotes because my pinkies will get sore constantly using them in this blog), is basically when you get together with a paying customer to perform a sex act. Sex act. It sounds so stale but you can pretty much assume that it’s not. It’s so easy to flippantly ask your fellow cutie “so did you party?” and get an answer which may or may not be elaborated on.

My sex toy collection

After the lineup, the customer can either decide on a hottie or choose to sit it out and plant their asses at the full bar to soak up the view. There are two options at this point.
When a client sits at the bar, they basically become fair game, meaning that you can approach them after they settle in and order a drink. This is fun to partake in or watch the cruising begin. Basically, you want the client to see you and only you and let go of their Bud at the bar and follow you to your room.
Now, being the conversationalist I love to be, this can backfire on me because I truly am interested in shooting the shit at the bar! So I’ll be talking, finding out if they’re local, what brought them to the Ranch, what they do for work. But damn! I’m supposed to be there to hustle my junk so I have to admit, I wasn’t so good at doing this. There sure are some pro ‘hoes at the Ranch that can swoop in effectively and efficiently and it was fun to watch them work. So what if I lost out at the real, genuine, pick up bar? I was really hoping that someone would want to go to my room for my brain but I guess they can go to the library to find someone to fit THAT bill. They’re at the Ranch to get laid!
The other thing they can do is pick a girl out of the lineup so she can give them ”a tour.” The tour is just that: the opportunity for the client to check the joint out that’s beyond the comfortable surroundings of the parlor and the bar. So join me and see what a tour is all about!
“Hi! My name’s Kim” you’d say but of course, we use our own fake real names. “Where ya from?” Hey! That’s what I’d always ask anyway! Basically, you make small talk with the client while wrapping your arm around theirs or even around their waist to get them really comfortable. You want them to smell your aura, your scent, your desire for them and the contents of their wallet.
You begin your tour by entering the center of the parlor that leads to to the maze of hallways… kinda like going into the folds of a giant vagina leading up to the fallopian tubes of desire. But what’s that I see? Why it’s a convenient ATM machine front and center in case you forgot your casheroo but DID have your trusty ATM card with you, I mean, who doesn’t nowadays? And, in case your snooping wife happens to scan your statement at the end of the month, the ATM receipt has the innocuous name “Sierra National” on it. But of course… you’d think it would say “Fuck Farm” on it?!?!?
After waltzing past the ATM machine, with your arm firmly entwined with his nervous member (his ARM I mean), you head in the direction of your room with a quick stop by the infamous Love Ranch North VIP Room.
Oh yeah. The VIP Room… the extra special room where it will cost you extra special money. You veer off to your right and enter the doorway with the fancy script V. I. P. etched on the sign. You know you want them there.
The VIP Room is like a well appointed Las Vegas hotel room. The lights are dim and moody and of course its complete with a king sized bed (or maybe even California King but it’s Nevada so I don’t think so) with a nice, furry bedspread on it. There’s a large flat screen TV with a remote (natch), a sex chair that looks pretty comfy, too, and a leopard print sex sling dangling in the corner, begging to be used by that high roller you just brought in there. There’s also a sunken room on the opposite side with a massage table there, evoking the relaxation both your shoulders, groin, and wallet will feel soon after.
And of course, the piece-de-resistASS is the two person, bubble with your beauty, Jacuzzi tub, sunken in the side of the room, with every kind of bath product nestled on the side of the platform.
The room speaks to their fantasy. The room gets them hard. The room is the one you want them in because the blowjobs are REALLY good in there. The VIP Room. The catch for the girls.
After you tempt them with the desire of going into the VIP room, you can saunter down the hall to the doctor’s exam room. Hey! Isn’t that the same room I flatbacked in on Thursday by the guy I had to pay to have his fingers in my snatch?! By Jove, it IS! How practical! Well, you can offer them the doctor’s room to them for a round of hanky panky but during my week there, there weren’t any takers that I knew of but I’m sure many of us tried.
So after you’re finding out who they are and having your pulse on their nervousness and perhaps upcoming proclivities, time to bring them to your own room to continue the seduction dance to make them part with their greenbacks.
When you bring your POTENTIAL client to your room, you orally seduce them and begin to negotiate with them, the first real step in getting the opportunity to put out for cash. Sometimes the men will know the routine, sometimes not so much, making the goal of your “tour” the intro to what you really want them to do there.
One of the rules of the house is that during negotiations, you must keep the door open to avoid those dreaded quickies that the house won’t get a piece of. Yep, some guys just need a precious minute in a room with a whore to dump his 10ccs and leave so having the door open is actually a good idea for everyone.
During the negotiations, you have them sit at the end of the bed and give them your best bedroom eyes (which translate into “this will be worth your money AND your time”). For the clients who know the drill (so to speak), they’ll mention they want the usual which is usually fucking and sucking, natch, or, more appropriately, snatch. For the less indoctrinated guys, you kind of have to make the suggestions as to what would be a good “party” but I can assure you… it’s gonna wind up being fucking and sucking no matter what you say.
So think of this as the financial foreplay leading up to cashing in on the big load. Which will be my next deposit in ‘Ho Tell.
Catch up on what you missed:
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3

Well, well, well….a week at the ‘Ho Tell. What was it like to work a week at the brothel known as The Love Ranch? I’ll tell ya – it was everything I expected and more and less, all at the same time.

My lovely room

It began with a lovely 400+ mile ride on my motorcycle out of the stifling traffic of Los Angeles to a scoot over to the 14, cutting through the dry desert. I left shortly before rush hour and THINK I avoided it, and traffic thinned out once I hit the 14, heading northeast through Palmdale, Lancaster and the Antelope Valley, skirting the edge of the Mojave Desert and the mountains. I rested my head in Bishop, past half way up on 395, slicing its way through the Eastern Sierras, although I can do the ride in one day. I just didn’t want to arrive tired.
Departing early in the morning, I continued up 395, winding my way up to Carson City… the Nevada state capital. I was excited with anticipation and it felt like I was going to my first day on a new job.
Which it was.
I arrived with dust in my hair and a smile on my face. I had made it just in time to get my initial gynecological exam which gives me permission to work in the sex industry in Nevada. The doctor signs off on it and, well, I’m getting ahead of myself.
When I arrived, I was warmly greeted by the staff and the house Madam, Adrianne, who had helped me every step of the way when I toyed with the idea of parting my gams for money. She scurried me over to the doctor’s exam room while I was waving the papers that I was just given. The doctor’s room can also double as a trick room if a client wants to play doctor with any of us. Oh boy! Blending fantasy with reality!
The doctor visits the Love Ranch weekly to give the girls (as we’re known as – “women” would reek of feminism) their weekly health exam to make sure the plumbing is in perfect working order and there’s no leaks in the system. I’ve got to say that it was one of the most impersonal gyno exams I’ve ever had but I guess us girls and the doctors all in the same business under that roof – we get paid to spread ‘em and the more we can do in an hour, the more money we’ll make.
At this point, I finally had the time to go through all of the paperwork, filled out forms, read basic rules of the house and generally started picking up on the ambiance of the place I’d call home for the next week (gosh, I almost had a typo there by leaving out the “m” in home, making it “hoe” but I guess that would have been appropriate, too).
The Love Ranch. Home for the next week. The brothel at the end of the cul de sac which offers not one, not two, but THREE different ranches where men (and sometimes couples) can get their rocks off with the girl of their choice without having to worry about catching cooties or avoiding a phone call the next morning. Whores. Prostitutes. In the words of Charlie Sheen, “I pay them to go away.” No truer words were ever spoken.
The Love Ranch is owned by Dennis Hof, aka Big Daddy or Big Pimp because, well, that’s exactly what he’s doing but more on him in a moment. On one side of the cul de sac is the Kit Kat Ranch that has been open for over SIXTY years! It was family owned until recently and apparently they had let it run down to a pretty sad state. Along comes Dennis Hof who bought the place and is currently going through a gut rehab to offer more pleasures of the flesh in yet another location close to home.
The other brothel is the Sagebrush Ranch, which has something like 60 rooms in it to service those in need of a quickie, a blow job, or anything else that might be on the agenda. The Love Ranch is situated between the two other brothels and there’s even a “Gentleman’s Club” at the top of the cul de sac which provides enough entertainment to establish a well-earned boner for the customers to successfully relieve themselves with the woman of their choice. Dennis is creating the country’s first legal Red Light District in the US, much like the Red Light District in Amsterdam only here, the canals are different.
Okay, so after the spread ‘em and scrape ‘em doctor exam, the results are faxed over the next day (in the morning when you’re lucky, as I was), which gives you clearance for the next step in become a legal flesh peddler. It’s called “getting your Sheriff’s card” and anyone working in any aspect of the adult industry in the fair state of Nevada, whether it’s fucking or showing your junk on stage as a stripper, you have to have one to be legal. So I had my signed and faxed seal of appr’HOval in my hand and jumped on The Big Vibe to make the 6 mile ride to the Sheriff’s office to get my well deserved card before lunch.
Wouldn’t you know, the state computers were down and I had to wait for their return to workability. In the meantime, I got to check out a new slate of working girls that were going to work at other ranches and needed their cards, too. I had a feeling that some of them thought I was several girls’ Mom. NOT. We come in all shapes and sizes and ages, honey! I ended up returning after lunch and breathlessly awaited the computers to come back on line, which was just an hour before they closed for the weekend. Had they not come back up, I would have been shit outta luck for the weekend – usually the busiest time at the Ranch.
I’m gotta run, but stay tuned for part 2! It has all the good stuff. 😉

Posts

‘Ho Tell – My Week at The Love Ranch – Part FoWHORE

‘Ho Tell – My Week at the Love Ranch – Part One