Sagebrush Ranch
51 Kit Kat Dr
Mound House, NV 89706
Tel 775 246-5683
Tel 888 852-8144
Email
Web Site
Completely new since it was burned down a few years ago by a careless brothel girl who left a candle burning in her room. Marvin Gates the owner who often sits in the small one way mirror room to the right of the bar feels that 1 less ranch and one more titty bar means more money. The fact that the old Sagebrush 2 is now “Squeeze Play” a titty bar with a cover. Brothels can’t legally place ads so by placing ads for the titty bar in a sense you solve the problem. The completely rebuilt Sagebrush which is now the only “Sagebrush Ranch” has a much larger bar and usually a selection of 6 -15 women. Kelly was the most attractive of the bunch, originally from the legal field she now has sex for a living. She’s sweet and can be had for $150-$200 although as many of the other women in the Mound House area they prefer much bigger dollars. All the ranches in the Reno and Carson area were dead for a weekend evening and business is in fact down from this same period last year. (this is from info from the resent Brothel owners meeting). I guess Marvin is jumping on the band wagon with Dennis Hof’s Porn star and American Pimp stunts to help the slacking trade. Kelly by the way just had a tongue stud put in which she feels enhances her oral sex skills. Since she was sore from this new option we opted to wait till our next visit to give her a try.
The once less popular eastern and remote ranches are becoming more appealing in our opinion with far more down to earth women and lower prices.
Ever notice the Use By or Use Before dates on certain products? Humans are also haunted by such time restraints and dates. Women seem to be affected even more by this issue then men. So I’ve titled this post as “Shelf Life”. This whole issue came to me on a recent trip to Nevada. Having started my adventures to Nevada’s brothels back in 1986, it was only a matter of time ’till I ran into women who I’d known when I started all this.
When I first started visiting the ranches back in the late 80’s, prices for common, knowledgeable guests ranged from $40-$60 for 30 minutes (and, yes, the house still got a 50/50 split). Hey, even $20 for 30 minutes was nothing to complain about. This was also part of what got me interested in the whole hobby, that is, fair prices for good service. Over the years, prices slowly escalated from $40, to $60, to $100, to $150, and finally, to $200 today. While $200 won’t get you time with every woman in Nevada, it seems to be the sweet spot for about 30 minutes of time. That’s $400 an hour and $200 which the house makes. We’re talking about the same pay scale as for doctors and lawyers, yet there is no college or degree required. This never made much sense to me. Okay, back to the main objective here. My point is that the concept of Shelf Life may be one of the reasons Nevada working girls ask for more money.
Back in the early 90’s, when the hourly cost was slowly being raised by the likes of women like Katherine Leigh and Tamara Lynn (the bodybuilding, silicone queen), you either knew the house minimum or what the women did for bottom dollar. Soon enough, newbies would often be talked into $500+ hours and even $10,000 day dates. Lots of guys were getting nailed for $1000 to $2000 for a hour or two, and for service that wasn’t any better than what one used to get for $100 and 30 minutes.
I had managed to do parties with many of the popular, pricey girls and never paid more then $200 for 30 minutes. I recall this 20-something tall, slim, hot looking native gal who had some major sex appeal going on. I managed to get her to agree to 30 minutes for $140 at the time. I recall the session as very intense, with even some kissing. Having done my share of Nevada women, I could sense this was deeper then the norm, not that there was anything more then lust involved, but certainly there was mutual pleasure. It was certainly a highlight of my early years visiting ranches. I was in my 30’s then, and she was in her late 20’s. Shortly thereafter, the rumor was that she had met a wealthy guy and moved on to bigger and better things.
Fast-forward to a few months ago: I was visiting the ranches again, and ran across a few women who had worked back in the 1990’s. This was a rare happening, as most of the women who I’d known either left to do independent escort work or just quit the business altogether. How long can a woman keep doing this ’till she goes past her official shelf life?
By speaking with one of these women from the past, I learned that the gal with whom I’d had the memorable $140 party with years ago had returned. This was hard to believe, but, to my surprise, a week later I did find her in the lineup.
I wasn’t sure if she remembered me as I picked her out of the lineup and we headed off to her room. She did remember me and our party, as she talked about some things that brought back the memory clearly. Life had apparently been good to her for a while, as she had run into some money and travel opportunities. After going a bit back in time, she made it clear she was still here to work and asked if I was going to party. It’s funny how a man’s opinion and a woman’s opinion can differ when summing up how sex was between them. I’ve had sessions in which I had a great time and thought she had one as well, only to find out later she was surprised that I even came back for seconds. Then again, I’ve been with women who thought they offered the world’s best while I was counting the seconds ’till it would end.
“So are you going to party?” she asked again. Besides the escalating price, the thought that 10 years or more had passed struck me. I was now in my 40’s and she was in her late 30’s or even her early 40’s. Old Father Time had whacked her in the head several times and once in the ass for good measure. She appeared to be into the booze now. Perhaps this had always been the case, but I never recalled the constant sips from the small plastic cup that appeared to contain a cola drink spiked with something during our first party.
My first instinct was to say, “Nice to see you again,” and walk. However, she wasn’t letting go so easily. So, the pressure came on strong, partly out of guilt, partly out of identification about the shared past, but what won out in the end was my curiosity if she still had it. She was still shooting high with numbers; she even recalled that I was not the sort who shelled out more then a hundred a pop. Being that prices are different today, I held firm to $200 for 30 minutes. She continued to push hard and started the old “Let’s see your wallet, that can’t be all you have, I don’t believe you” routine. She did not make a great impression.
Ultimately, I realized that the reasons for her behavior were due to her being both desperate and over the hill, or, to keep in line with the theme of this article, past her shelf life. It finally got to the point where I was heading for the door to avoid going over my $200 budget. In a last desperate act, she quickly agreed and for a while the money issue ceased. She did the usual inspection and then asked me to get comfortable ’till she returned. She exited the room to book the party while I undressed and set my stop watch.
About 10 minutes later she returned and got undressed. As it was still daylight, there was still plenty of natural light in addition to the light in the room to expose things. Wow, does a woman’s body really change that much? I know that as some men get older, the muscles go flabby, the tummy works its way out, and the hair begins to go. Her hair still looked fine, but her face was packed with makeup to cover wrinkles and such. Still, it looked pretty good, but even from a distance one could see this woman had grown older. This reminded me of looking at a piece of fruit in the grocery store and detecting some mold or other signs of age.
When the clothes come off is where women approaching the end of their shelf life have the most trouble. Once, they showed off a tight tummy, great legs, or a small ass. Now they hide things in an effort to divert your attention.
This hit me hardest when she stood there totally nude. The boobs (still all natural) were no longer perky and the stomach was wrinkled and carrying a bit more flab. Those long muscular legs had turned to thin chicken sticks with a sagging ass to boot. Not only had she drastically changed physically, but she had also taken an emotional beating. When I’d mention something that made her remember how much time had gone by, she would take offense. I had to catch myself, as in my innocent conversations, the concept that over 10-15 years had gone by seemed to always come up. What happened to that fresh, young, open, and eager woman I’d encountered in the past? All those years had added a nasty edge, similar to the mentality possessed by a bored, angry, and unhappy housewife.
Once our naked bodies touched, there was a bit of peace while she focused on her work rather then on the past. Although my experience was not as good as it was in the past, it was still better then an average Nevada experience. By focusing on other things rather then a hard body or pretty face, I managed to get into it.
Lacking the lust to keep the fire hot once I popped, things just got colder along the way. Usually, once you make a connection and both enjoy the act, you break down some barriers and open up. I got to that stage, but I could tell she never arrived. What she did offer up was some self-pity, followed by stories of how great she is (or was), but she always avoided the reason of why she came back.
On one hand, it’s very sad, as I can clearly see where her shelf life had expired and she was discarded by someone who just went out and bought a new item. While we humans often live 70 and even 90 years, our prime is limited to 10 to 20 years. Relating this to prostitution and how long a woman can expect to earn a GOOD living means her prime starts at a legal age of 18 and then drops off at around 29. That’s a peak of 10 years, and you can add another 10 years for women who stay in shape. I’ve run into a rare few women in their 40’s who still looked great and provided top-notch service.
On the other hand, age shouldn’t have to matter that much, but add the fallout from bad relationships, experiences, and life disappointments, and the lack of youth becomes even more apparent. Attitude is a huge part of the puzzle for both men and women.
In the formula of men (as the customer) and women (as the provider), the men are pretty much limited by funds and stamina, whereas the women are limited by old Father Time.
What happens to the LPIN ladies who reach the end of their shelf life? Some never leave. For proof, just visit Cherry Patch or that other ranch just off Highway 95 south of Beatty, whatever its name is. At both places you’ll find women between 50-70 years old who look like it in the brothel and even older in harsh daylight. In other parts of the world, women this old would not stand a chance against the younger, new crop of women. Most women in this business (not in Nevada) seem to have a 10-year business plan, in which they work, save, and then stop. However, some LPIN ladies seem to spend what they earn faster then they can earn it.
I’ve even heard that the business and the money they can make becomes addictive. Where else can they have men lusting after them (all that attention) and paying them to do what they’re supposed to love doing? The only hitch is, they don’t always get to do it with their dream man. Other women find Mr. Right and leave the business. A rare few depart forever, while the rest either come back or their shelf life expires beforehand.
The worst part about this reunion was that she didn’t get better with age. Being older did not make her more sexual, which supposedly is the case for women. Nor did she seem to have learned any new tricks over the years. What was apparent was her desperation to act as if she were still who she was 20 years ago, to brag about all the places she’s been and the things she’d seen, and to brag about all the millions she’d made and how much more she’d be making. What was obvious was all the damage the sun had done and the brain cells that had died from alcohol. As age creeps up on us it’s not always a pretty picture. I look in the mirror every day and slowly see the changes. Perhaps it’s this gradual change that eases me on. Thank God I have all my hair and don’t have a problem with it going grey. I watch what I eat from seeing my gut expand with time. Yet, money can fix all my issues and even some issues for women, except for that sell-by date stamped on her forehead.
The conversation went from the fun times we’d had in the past to the ever-apparent current money issue. Finally, she resorted to the old old “Be a man and tip me” line. The tip amount she wanted kept dropping until it reached $20. Her desperation discouraged me from any possible future sessions. Did she sense that I had already mentally given up even during the act? Was this just a desperate act by a woman consumed with debt and running from the years gone by? It was obvious she was not working due to her love of men or sex, but rather due to her hitting rock bottom and coming to the conclusion that real life was not going to pan out.
After it was over, I practically ran out of the place. I literally had to break free of her as she held on to me and begged for another party, asked when I was coming back, and then tried to lay a guilt trip on me about tipping.
Where do the women of prostitution go when their shelf life expires? Some keep on working, some disappear, and, as I found, some come back to haunt you. Wine gets better with age, but, in this case, things have begun to spoil.