This is an exclusive pre-release preview of 'The Erotic Diary'of Daniele'. The contents of this book may change.
PROLOGUE
December 25, 2019
If I’m being truthful, I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do with a diary. Do I write about my deepest, darkest secrets and all the cute boys I have a crush on like I’m in middle school? Does it even matter what I write in here? I don’t think I’ll even be able to say this when I’m done with it. Maybe one day in the future, when I’m living in a lavish palace and being waited on hand and foot by loyal servants, I’ll uncover this and look back at how shitty my life used to be. So if Daniele from the future is reading this: Hey girl! What’s going on, gorgeous?
In all seriousness, though, I guess I’ll start by talking about why I even got a diary to begin with. It all started with Issy. Issy is my coworker at the bar as well as a gay bar. She was hired about a month after me and ever since then, she’s tried to cling herself to me and make me her best friend. I don’t want to be her friend, to be honest, but she can’t seem to take a hint to save her life. I remember one time she asked me if I wanted to have a girls’ night out with her and some of her friends. I politely declined and said that I had some other plans that night, even though I didn’t. Then she had the nerve to ask me what I was doing. Can you believe that? She couldn’t just let the subject drop, she had to keep pushing. I was already really frustrated from work that day so I snapped at her and told her that I would be busy thinking about not spending time with her. The sour look on her face after that was priceless. I don’t know why she has such an attachment to me, but I think maybe it’s because we were hired around the same time so she thinks the new people have to stick together or something. My only saving grace in this is that wild child Scar. Out of all the people I know of, Scar would be the last person I would expect to be friends with Issy, but I guess that’s what makes her so unpredictable.
Speaking of Issy, another reason I don’t trust her is because of how close she’s gotten to Adam recently. I don’t get hurt very often, but I’ll admit it: Adam hurt me. He was a Russian mobster I used to hook up with. Our hooking up morphed into a relationship and that relationship started to get serious. I was developing actual romantic feelings for this man, and I thought he felt the same way. He would take me on these lavish foreign vacations to places I would have never been able to visit on my own. We went to Germany, Dubai, Russia, France, and even Thailand. He would take me out to the most expensive restaurants and reserve a whole room just for us. We would spend the night drinking and eating and just generally having a good time before going back to whichever luxury hotel we were staying at and playing with each other till the sun came up. There was just one thing I didn’t like about these trips. Prior to each trip, Adam would take me shopping and buy me all sorts of luxury clothes and jewellery and make me feel like a special princess or something. Then, we would go on these vacations afterwards and we would sell all of my expensive items for cash that he could send back to his mob fellows in Russia. I got upset after this happened one time and said that I at least wanted a percentage of the money. That was all it took for him to cut me off. He bought me the next return flight back home and hasn’t spoken to me since.
Recently, though, he’s started showing up to the bar where I work at. This worries me because like I said, he’s a mobster. He’s got connections to people who could take my life in a second. And I think he knows I work here too, but I’ve never served him. I refuse. Each time he walks through the front doors, I scurry back to the kitchen and pretend like I’m busy doing something else. Issy is the one who almost always serves him, though, and that’s what worries me. Every time I see her interact with him, she’s always chatting him up. They’re laughing, playing around, acting like old chums or something. I know this sounds crazy, but I feel like Issy is an informant for Adam. That would explain why she’s always trying to be so friendly with me even though I’ve given her clear signals that I don’t feel the same way.
Lately, Issy has been really into journaling and keeping records of her thoughts and feelings. I thought it was just gonna be a phase because when Issy gets into a new hobby, she gets obsessed for the first few weeks. She’ll become like an absolute lunatic, just blabbering on and on about whatever new hobby she has. Then her interest will taper out and she’ll move onto something else. But this was different. She just kept going on about how useful diaries are and how they allow reflecting and this and that and blah blah blah. I asked her if she would stop bothering me about the benefits of journaling if I bought a journal. She agreed and now here I am, doing something I never thought I’d be doing.
I need to stop letting Issy get so close to me. She’s not beneficial to me at all. My mantra is that I don’t want to be connected with anybody I can’t make a pound off of. That might sound shitty but can I say? I’m a hustler in a dog eat dog world. I’ve so many hustles and side hustles that it can get hard to keep track of them all. I work at a bar, I sell drugs, I sell stolen and bootleg goods, I’m an escort, I blackmail so very wealthy men, I run phishing scams and all sorts of other illegal activities. In fact, now that I think about it, the only people I would consider myself close to are Megan and Martina. Megan is somebody who I keep close because she’s a hacker so she helps me with all my cybercrimes and things like that. She’s the one who actually taught me how to run phishing scams and deploy keyloggers to get into peoples’ bank accounts. And then there’s Martina. I don’t want to sound like an asshole but let’s just say her intelligence isn’t her greatest asset. From the few fragments of her backstory, she’s told me, I think she dropped out of high school to pursue a career in the streets. At some point in her life, she was trying to be an escort like me but she wasn’t getting the best clientele. They would treat her cruelly or not pay her so instead she turned to the drug game and thieving and that’s how she made her money. The only reason I keep her close is that she’s so closely tied to the criminal syndicates around here if I need to move any product I have a huge network to go to because of Martina.
Notice how I never called either of these women my friend. I haven’t had a true friend in such a long time, the concept of one has become foreign to me. Instead of friends, I have a tightly knit group of people who I keep around for my benefit. As long as they’re making me money in some way, they can hang around. Sure, I’ll have a few drinks with them and pretend to laugh at their jokes like they’re the funniest people on the planet but as soon as they start acting up or as soon as they don’t benefit me, I drop them like a sack of rocks.
So, let’s see where this goes, I guess. Maybe this is the only entry I have, or maybe this journaling shit will change my life. I think it’s funny how most of the life-changing decisions we make rarely get noticed because we think they’re too insignificant to be life-changing. Like buying a winter jacket for example. It gets so cold here that having a winter jacket could mean the difference between staying warm or getting frostbite, and that’s definitely life-changing. It reminds me of how I actually got into the hustling lifestyle. Years ago, I had dreams of going to University and becoming an astrophysicist. Then, some close family members of mine passed away and I began to question what I was doing with my life. We have such a limited time on this planet, was I really going to spend a significant amount of it at University? I went through a period of time where I was in a state of moratorium. I was just stuck in my room, watching as the world passed me by. Then I stumbled across a TED talk online from a realtor who had made it big by investing some side money in some risky, yet rewarding, stocks. This inspired me to take charge of my life. I realized I didn’t want to be in college at all, so I dropped out and started hustling in the streets to make some money now and then. Ever since watching that video, I read inspirational quotes and watch other TED talks and that’s what inspired me to hustle.
CHAPTER 1
January 1, 2020
Some succeed because they are destined to, but most succeed because they are determined to.
- Henry Van Dyke
I really like that quote. I like it because I think it really reflects how I live my life. I didn’t have the best childhood and I think seeing the struggles and sacrifices my parents had to make made me see the world in a different way. The way I see it, there are those who hustle and those who get left behind.
I’ve always been scheming and looking for a payday. Sometimes it’s just a quick pound here or there, other times it’s the payout of a lifetime. Even today, I have multiple paydays lined up. I have a gig with Martina at noon, a date with some businessman hotshot at three, and then I’m working at a bar in the evening. Martina’s a chick friend of mine. She thinks she’s a hustler, but in reality, she’s just getting left behind and she doesn’t even know it. I pretend to be her gal pal and this and that and chat her up over drinks but I really couldn’t care less about her. As long as she’s bringing in the work, that’s all I care about. And that’s exactly what this gig at noon is. See, she’s managed to stockpile herself a nice little pile of stolen electronics. Phones, laptops, tablets, you name it, she has it. And the criminals around here are always in need of extra phones and things like that. It’s just one more way to throw off the feds. So around noon her and I are gonna go meet up with some local dudes and drop off the stolen goods. According to her, they’re gonna pay a pretty penny for the goods. Then I take my share of the profit and just like that, I’ve secured another payday.
I had to drive us both to the drop-off location because she got her license suspended. I’m telling you, she is not the brightest girl in the world. She got pulled over for drunk driving and straight up told the cops that she was drunk off her ass! Can you believe it? Anyway, we got to the drop-off location, some seedy looking abandoned parking lot. There was one other car there and four people were in it. They got out and we approached each other. They tried to look tough in front of us but they didn’t want any trouble. We traded the electronics for cash and within ten minutes we were back on the road. Martina began to sort through the cash, saying “Ok, so your share is…” but I quickly cut her off. “Oh no, you don’t!” I said, deftly snatching the bag of cash from her hand. She was clearly offended so to make my point I asked her, “Martina, what’s twelve multiplied by ten?” She sat there for a moment, stumped, before letting out a defeated sigh. “Exactly,” I said, “I’ll sort the cash, you just do the stealing.” I dropped her off at a house I didn’t recognize. She said it was her dealer’s house and was going to spend her share of the money on drugs. I’m telling you, nobody these days knows how to hustle as I do. Everybody blows their money on stupid shit like drugs. Me? I keep my earnings to myself. I’m like a dragon hoarding its treasure.
As soon as I dropped her off, I was already driving towards my next payday. Some businessman I met at the bar a week ago was feeling brave and asked if I had some “special menu items” that were only available to him. It was one of the worst pickup lines I had ever heard. Regardless, I slipped him my number because I figured I could suck some money out of him by sucking something else on him if you know what I mean. He also made a big mistake by giving me his business card. I say that it was a big mistake because a quick Google search reveals that he’s married and has kids. When I read that, all I saw was money signs. Not only was he paying me to fuck him, but he let me pick the hotel we were going to hook up in! Little does he know that I’m going to plant a camera in the room and use that sex tape to blackmail him. It was the perfect scheme.
I got to the hotel room half an hour before he did, which was more than enough time to set up. All I had to do was put my phone in my purse with the camera just barely peeking out. It had a wide-angle shot of the whole room so it would capture everything. I changed out of my normal clothes into some nice, lacy lingerie. I figured that if I was going to blackmail him, I might as well look sexy doing it. He knocked on the hotel door and I called out “Mr Fields, is that you?” “It is” he responded. Perfect! Audio evidence of him at the scene of the crime. I opened the door and ushered him inside. He was in awe of my scantily clad body. He looked like he had never seen a naked woman before. Poor guy must rarely get laid or something because he sure was excited.
He stood there awkwardly for a few seconds like he didn’t know what to do with a beautiful, almost naked escort standing right in front of him.
“I take cash payment upfront, by the way,” I said, trying to move things along.
We had agreed on a price when he met me for the first time at the bar. I inflated my hourly rate because I knew he was rich and he could take the financial hit. I almost felt bad when he agreed on the price because he was so drunk, I could’ve told him that my rate was a million pounds per hour and he still would have agreed.
From his pockets, he pulled out a sizeable wad of cash and handed it over. I counted it and my payment was all there. Five thousand pounds. God, even just writing that number gives me a rush of adrenaline. Like I said before, most people spend their money on drugs to get high but I get high on making money if that makes any sense. I accepted the cash and put my arms on his shoulders, moving in for a kiss. The easiest part about being an escort was the sex, in my opinion. Most rich people like this guy are either inexperienced or really nervous so they don’t last very long. We kissed for a little bit before he pushed me onto the bed and had me spread my legs for him. The lingerie I was wearing had gaps in some major erogenous zones like the breasts and vagina, giving him easy access to me. To my surprise, what I felt at my entrance was not his dick but his mouth. He wanted to go down on me! In all of my years of being an escort, the number of men who wanted to eat me out could be counted on one hand. His tongue lapped at my pussy explored my entrance, and every now and then we would give some attention to my clit. He was better than I expected at eating pussy, and by the end of it, he actually made me pretty wet with the work his tongue did on me. Eventually, though, I heard his pants unzip and drop to the floor. He stood at the edge of with his hard dick in hand, as I got into position to suck him off. I wrapped my lips around his head and bobbed up and down, swirling my tongue around his frenulum for some added pleasure. I made eye contact with him the whole time because I know that gets most guys even more turned on. I was fondling his balls in one hand and I started talking dirty to see if I could get him to cum quicker.
“You like that?” I asked, “You like when I drool and spit all over your hard cock?”
He moaned louder as I stroked his glistening dick and said filthy things to him. I felt his hands grab the back of my head and push me down onto his cock. He was pumping his hips harder and faster, cramming as much himself down my throat as he could. I moaned and groaned with his penis down my throat like it was the best dick I had ever had.
“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum!” He announced.
Seconds later, his muscles tightened up and he did his last few triumphant humps as he shot his load down my throat. After he came, it was pretty much over. He pulled his softening cock out of my mouth, pulled up his pants, thanked me, and quickly walked out of the room. And just like that, I secured another payday. Five thousand pounds for less than twenty minutes of work. Pretty good if you ask me. And I got my pussy eaten too, which was an added bonus. I went over to my phone to see what it recorded. Fortunately, it captured everything. There were very clear shots showing his face as he thrust himself into my mouth. I was giddy with excitement over this new blackmailing opportunity.
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