Sunset Thomas

In Sicily there’s an oath, a code of honor called Omerta. When I first got in the sex for sale business I understood that I was taking an oath called Ho-merta—or as my mama from Missouri used to say—“Don’t kiss and tell!”

It amazes me how many girls for hire have no shame—Eliot Spitzer’s prostitutes, Tiger Woods concubines, Bill Clinton’s posse, Charlie Sheen’s gaggle of sexpots—the list goes on.

It used to be a working girl got paid by the hour, now I reckon they do it for 15-minutes of fame and I think that sucks!

I’ve had cash for gash romps with all types of guys—from athletes, to entertainers, to business execs but I’ll never name names Why would I?

Sex for sale is already scandalous—even in its legal form—just look at Senator Reid’s recent comments in Reno—he’d like to ban the brothels!

What happened to the quiet concubine? What happened to discretion? If a working girl truly feels there is no shame in her game then why jeopardize the whole prostitution proposition for some media whore glory?

Hey, I have no problem with girls “coming out” like the school teacher in New York, Melissa Petro—the only name she dropped was her own!

But I find it hard to sympathize with girls who open their legs and then their mouths—if you don’t know the difference between those two orifices—keep them both shut!!!