I’ve been asked what I thought my parents might think if they ever found out what I do for money. My honest answer is I have no idea. I would like to think they would have no objections were it not for the fact that this kind of work I do is not considered socially acceptable as a job.
And it makes me also realize how this living can be a lonely place to be, in that I don’t have anyone to talk to most of the time – meaning people who understand exactly what I go through. You can’t really have true friends because very few people exist who can be trusted not to expose you. Frankly put, you have to be very, very careful about who knows about your sex work. There is a lot of evasive action in social situations, like finding excuses to tell your friends about why you suddenly can’t meet with them because a client is waiting. You constantly live by your smartphone and have to think on your feet and improvise, to tell little white lies so you don’t blow your cover.
There are five people in my life who know I am a sex worker but all of them were people I knew from the BDSM scene I was in before I started escorting. None of them are sex workers and have now all left the scene, which makes it worse because they’ve moved from being kink friends to vanilla friends so I can’t even talk to them at all about this. And it may surprise some people to learn that none of the other escorts I know can be relied upon, either, because girls in this business are very competitive — they get very catty with other girls because many are insecure and assume other girls are out to steal their business.
I do feel sad about this sometimes, because I think of what I do as a serious undertaking and I have skills suited to this job, like others would for any other job. But I am often a solo outlier.
It’s also sad because I have acquired some insights into human nature worth sharing, which is one reason I am writing this column, For example, I know of a male client of an escort who was basically taken for a ride by this girl who is apparently quite attractive. Swayed by her charms, he agreed to pay her in advance and she took his money and ran — he never heard back from her again. Now, when this kind of thing happens, I think that men can really be such suckers. (Pardon my cynicism, I know it sounds like I am putting down an entire gender here!)
Often, clients who see me for a two-hour session will see me about once a month whereas others who will cap their time with me at one hour will see me more often. Aside from the financial advantages, I prefer the latter because different men have different peak levels of sexual intensity; it’s important for them to enjoy prolonged pleasure but also to release their sexual tension and I’ve found that smaller peaks of pleasure often work better than larger ones. I think of what I do as an exchange of sexual energies, even in extreme scenarios like the time I wore a strap-on and fucked a guy in his ass, just because that’s what he paid me to do.
Then there is my favorite client, who prefers manual and oral activities with me, and I love it because of the intensity we share; he loves exploring my labial folds and my vagina, while I love having him in my mouth. We guide one another into realms of ecstasy and I even have real orgasms when he’s chewing on my clitoris. I don’t need anything else from him and there really aren’t many people, let alone clients, that you can say that about. Our sessions often keep me happy and keep me going for the rest of the time before we meet again. If there is a gold standard for sex work clientele, he is my platinum.
But he is rare and so unlike the majority, some of whom even blatantly ask me for discounts. What can you say when someone wants to rent your body and asks to lower your price? To any young girls out there contemplating this line of work, I’ll tell you that’s a very lonely place to be. It will mark you for life and you’re most likely going to take your dark secrets to your grave. For girls like us, there’s truly no turning back.