Sarah Tressler’s oral sex with Jeremy Piven leaves us wanting (photos)
SARAH Tressler, 29, is the New York University graduate, lecturer at her alma mater, Houston University (she teachers digital media), former Us magazine writer and curent Houston Chronicle reporter who also works as stripper. Tressler blogs at “Diary of an Angry Stripper. He co-workers at the strip clubs are said not to be a bit peeved that Tressler sullies herself as media whore. They feel dirty. The chaps and gels in the newsroom are just said to be upset.
Gawker’s Maureen O”Connor spots one of Tressler’s post in which she describes an alleged sexual encounter with the actor Jeremy Piven. Tressler wrote the kiss-and-tell “for one of my NYU profs” as part of her NYU MA. She claims to have met Piven when she worked at Us mag. Us mag:
I alternated between being nervous that I was not as hot as his last hookup, being amazed that I was looking at Entourage’s Ari Gold eat my pussy, and being bored with how mundane it was. It was all somewhat disappointing, frankly.
To make matters worse, I caused a minor accident that could have been disastrous. I get a bit lively when I’m being intimate, and I threw a pillow off to the side at one point, which landed on the nightstand. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a flash of light.
“Jeremy! The candle— !”
Candlelight is so cliché, anyway.
Tressler’s prose has caught the media’s eye. And how the media love to write about their own. So, having whetted the appetite with an unsubstantiated claim about a TV star, Tressler moves her blog to invitation only. You can’t read it. But you want to. How you want to. Bet wait for it to be serialised in a glossy magazine.
Here’s an excerpt - January 1, 2012: “The 10-Hour Day Yields an Icky Fetish”:
I worked from 1:30 to 11:30 last Thursday, which is long enough to hang out with some friends, make some new contacts, eat lunch and pull down about $750. I also had a run-in with one of my least favorite of the weird fetishes: guys who like to have their nipples, um … bothered.Foot suckers aside, the nipple guys freak me out the most. I personally hate it when guys try to reach out and rub or tweak mine; getting a dude who likes to have his … ew … stroked or pulled or WHATever, gawd, it’s so gross. Sorry. And just kind of bumping up against the general area outside the shirt is never enough. They aren’t ashamed to lift their shirts up and bare their man-nips, which, incidentally, are usually longer than what may be considered normal, the result of which I can only imagine must be from sexual apparatuses sold at stores like Nasty Pig on W. 19th in Chelsea.
Yeah. She’s a prude!