The Fantasy of Intimacy

I have had many clients tell me, in so many words, "You're either a phenomenal actress, or I'm DA MAN."

I certainly never thought of myself as an actress, but the truth is that there has really only been one client who truly rocked my world. For the rest, I often have to put in a fairly serious amount of fantasizing and, I suppose, acting. Sometimes I do come from their ministrations, but it can be a battle.

It is odd to me, because prior to this point in my life, I never had to fake orgasms. They came to me easily and copiously. I can fake them well because I know them well; I know exactly how my body reacts when I come. No fake porn star screams from me, just well-timed muscle contractions, an alteration of breathing patterns, and perhaps some feigned sensitivity.

Non-sexual intimacy on the companionship level is something that can be tricky. When I begin any appointment, I am usually "on". I am there to do my job, play the part, and I enjoy doing so. Usually I do not even realize or remember that I am in character until something happens that my real persona just cannot ignore. For example, having my brain probed with a tongue via my ear canal nauseates me. There are a lot of little moments and sometimes phrases that can immediately snap me out of my companionship phase and bring me back to myself. This is not always the client's fault; sometimes I have an association with an activity or words that reminds me of another relationship or situation.

Once I am brought back to reality, I feel the strain of the acting. Inwardly, I begin rolling my eyes at every overture of affection. Outwardly, I show nothing and apparently encourage him, because around this time is when the clients start emotional confessions to me, which just makes things worse.

The hardest part for me to deal with right now is when I have succeded in "snagging" the client, and he has bought into it completely. He has gotten hooked on me. He wants to see me over and over, but because we have such a remarkable connection (from his end), and because he is such a unique client (according to him, but only because I made him feel that way), we should have a much less strict business relationship.

Whoa. This is where I get flustered. Inwardly, of course. I try to gently remind such clients that business is business. Other men pay me my standard fee for extended periods of time, so why should I accept your bargain-discount offer for the same period? Oh wait, because we have such a special connection, because nobody treats me as well as you, because you can tell that I like you better than other clients.

By this point I have spent a lot of time working on the atmosphere for the client. I hate to bring it all crashing down by denying his requests, by implying that in fact, he really is nothing special to me, no more so than anyone else who pays my bills.

Because this keeps happening, I have finally realized that I am acting a significant part of the time. I am wondering if I will be able to have the repeat high-dollar clientele who are often looking for much more than sexual intimacy. That was always my goal, and I could see so clearly how I would attend to my clients' every need, sexual and non-sexual, but faced with the reality of it, I have to wonder. Is it me, or is it my clients?

I will be honest and say that I believe it is my clients. Way to pass the buck, I know. But I am only discussing the problem cases in this entry -- it is true that I have the rare client to whom I will give my best, the client who accepts my gift and treasures it, the client who, well, does not try to bargain with me. And with these gentlemen, I have no problem; I feel a friendly affection towards them. I know they feel more romantic, perhaps, towards me than I towards them, but it is okay.

What it comes down to, I am guessing, is volume. The diamond in the rough cliché. I am still a low-volume provider; I know the exact number of clients I have had and I still remember each of them. With time will come the keepers; until I meet them, I continue my facade with the rest.

Becoming Emotional

CCG made a comment on my previous post regarding my fairly glib comment about client and worker emotions in the world of escorting. I started responding to it in the comments section and decided just to put it here:

I too hear the amazingly frequent stories of clients and escorts forming strong emotional bonds; I cannot pretend it doesn't happen. I do think one of the worst things is when the money spent is what ruins a family.

Of course, CCG came to mind as I was writing about this idea. I think, however, that my previous mindset was that it would be inevitable that a man seeing a high-end call girl would form an attachment to her. I never truly understood the difference that should be inherent with a paid professional, versus, say, a mistress. "The Other Woman" was a taboo and sensitive topic to me and I used to vigourously denounce cheating in any way, shape, or form. I feel differently now. For me, it is much easier to see now how detached yet fulfilling sex can be possible without emotions interfering.

If only life were simple. I would love to think that it could be, that I could find a nice guy and settle down with him. But I just do not believe it; humans are too complex and fickle, and most are too afraid to own up and fix the things that need fixing in their relationships.

And I have a feeling that what they say is true: Once you've started in this business, you never truly leave. Of course that could be me making an excuse in advance for when the time comes that I should leave but do not.

I suppose I cannot really speak to what I would do or how I would feel until I have been in those shoes. If I do form an emotional attachment to a client, then I am sure I will change my tune in a hurry. For now, however, my biggest priority still is, and must be, paying off my bills; it is all I can focus on. Emotional attachments would probably hinder my progress and I just cannot afford to have that happen.

Settling In

Thinking about the possibility of dating, and remembering that I was in fact dating someone when I began escorting, I realize that I separate my two lives with much more facility than I give myself credit for.

It is getting easier, or becoming more of a second nature, to deal with escorting as yet another compartment (to borrow an overused escort-journaling term) of my life. I rarely consider it all anymore in my everyday affairs, with the exception of occasional musings on the status of my business -- ways to improve marketing, and such.

Occasionally friends in tight financial situations joke about becoming prostitutes, and I laugh along with them. I do not even think, "If they only knew!" anymore.

********************

I recently had a client elaborate with me on the profound effect I had on his life. Many toss off comments about how their lives have been changed, the missing factor that they've discovered in me, and so on. Few go into much detail, and for this I am grateful.

I get tired of hearing about the problems in clients' lives. Really, I do not like to hear much about their personal lives at all, because often they paint a picture of a hunky-dory, if humdrum, existence. It makes me worry that I may some day be in a marriage where I think everything is okay while my husband runs off and finds a little variety on the side. Then again, I have to wonder how much of a problem I would have with this. Do I believe that the concept of an open marriage is right for me? Ask me a year ago today and my answer would have been a vehement "NO". If I felt emotional attachments might be formed, I would still say no. But having seen the other side of the game, I truly do not know. I see more clearly how simple it can be to separate sex and emotions.

One thing I do know, however, is that, should I ever get married (an unlikely event, and a topic for another time), I will do my damndest to keep my man satiated in every area of our relationship. Most of the men I see who are married really do not get sex or intimacy at home. A minority are just bored, or simply cannot get their wives to perform "X" on/to/with them, but most of them just are not getting any. And I certainly cannot fault them for seeking it out elsewhere.

Uh-oh

Despite the chaos that exists in my personal and business life (outside of escorting), I generally stay grounded in one area: relationships. And it is easy to do this because my policy is simple. I do not date. I do not wish to date, I do not have aspirations to get married, I do not want to deal with a relationship, not even one involving casual dating.

Men ask me out incessantly. In nearly three years, very few have intrigued me enough to make me want to spend any time with them. I am not saying I have denied every single one, though the acceptance rate is probably hovering around 2%, but I never truly look forward to spending time with these men, and I almost never accept a second date.

I did not need nor want such a relationship before I started escorting, and my only thoughts about dating since I have started are along the lines of, "I am so glad I do not have to deal with relationships anymore."

Enter uh-oh.

Went out tonight with some friends and saw a guy I know but have not seen for about six months. Socially, we have never spent time together.

Tonight we got to know each other and we completely clicked. In every way -- intellect, values, sense of humor, and best of all, sex was so easy and so much fun to talk about.

I am completely turned on by him -- this never happens in my civilian life -- and though I completely want to fuck him, I also want to know him. Which sounds scarily to me like I would consider dating him. Which is worrisome because he has already asked me out.

I cannot begin to fathom the can of worms this might open. I'm not saying I am going to date him, or even fuck him, but if I do, will it affect my escorting?

Hmm. I can't wait for our date.

Work Is Work

Here is a story about the first client I had who truly felt like work. I shall call him Professor Smythe.


My visit with Professor Smythe was rife with characteristics that made me slightly uneasy. Not in a way that made me feel unsafe, no, it was just that this time, I knew there would be much more work involved.

Smythe was much less of a physical specimen than I had been accustomed to. Up to that point, I had been lucky enough to have only clients who were in decent, if not peak, physical shape. Of course, that was just beginner's luck; I was bound to encounter the more average man sooner or later, and Smythe happened to be the first for me. I would estimate he was a good 70-80 pounds overweight. Not morbidly obese, but certainly obese.

He was also of an ethnicity that I have absolutely no physical attraction to; in fact, I would go so far as to say I find these particular people somewhat unattractive. In work, I do not discriminate, but I was curious as to how I would react when it came time for the deed. In my real dating life, I am not rude to people I find unattractive, I simply spend my time with those I am attracted to.

Smythe and I met for lunch at a trendy restaurant. He was not receptive to as warm a greeting as I usually give; he seemed very aloof and analytical upon meeting me. He looked me up and down and avoided eye contact. I was not sure whether I had failed to meet his expectations, if he was intimidated, or if he was just the all-business type. I backed off my approach a little as we sat down to eat.

For awhile, conversation was stiff on his end. He often cut me off in the middle of my sentences in order to say what he wanted to say. His statements were purely in answer to my questions and attempts at conversation; he never tried to further the conversation on his own. Again, this was the first time I had to work so hard at talk with a client. There was more than one pregnant pause where I found myself fidgeting and avoiding eye contact, very unusual behavior for me. I am usually quite confident in these situations.

Eventually I drew him out of his shell a little and he seemed to get more comfortable. He brought up his wife quite a lot. As we were preparing to leave the restaurant, I noticed that he was a stingy tipper, a quality I cannot stand in men (or women). More work for me, to put aside my actual feelings and impressions in order to do my job.

Fast forward to our private time. As he took a shower, I wandered around the hotel suite. I could not help but notice the amazing quantity of medications or vitamins that he took. They were in a daily pill organizer, with each compartment chock full of pills. I began to get somewhat nervous. What if he had AIDS? Why was he taking so many pills? I tried to put it out of my mind.

We're getting down to business and Smythe's clothes come off. I have never seen a body like his. Obese, hairy everywhere, with a small, uncircumsised dick, my god; it was monumentally unattractive. I had never seen an uncut dick before then. At least he was freshly showered.

Now for me, the interesting part. The physical intimacy was not as difficult as I might have anticipated, given all the preceding information. In real life, I am sure it would have been impossible, but for work, it came naturally.

I am going to go so far as to say it was too natural. For afterwards, as we cuddled, Smythe kept making ridiculous comments to me. Intimating that perhaps we were soulmates, that I really understood him, that he had found the passion that he was missing, the one thing he had been searching for his whole life. Telling me that I fulfilled his every fantasy.

I was not the first escort he had visited, not by a long shot, so this type of talk made me nervous.

He wanted me to meet him in another city, but he could not afford the visit. Sorry, charlie. This is business. I smiled and told him to keep in touch, but inside I was thinking, "Could I really handle an overnighter with this guy, even if he could pay? Gross."

He told me that for him this was about far more than the sex, and I started feeling claustrophobic.

He kept asking if I had found what I was looking for in him. Yes, buddy, I found my rent money, thanks for asking.

After a few minutes of this nonsense, I excused myself to go clean up. He wanted me to linger, kept talking about when he could see me again. I made my exit gracefully and sighed with relief as I drove away.

*****

After this visit, I had to contemplate a few things.

One, how far do I go in making the client feel like he's king of the world? I aim for repeat clientele, but I would like the repeats to be the more special ones (to me). How nice is too nice? And what is the cutoff point? There will have to be a point when I decide a client has gone too far, emotionally speaking. Smythe never reached that point, but he got dangerously close. Another visit might be the last.

Two, is it appropriate to remind a client that business is business during an encounter? I try to keep everything pretty much in fantasy land, but again, where do I draw the line?

Three, I wonder if I might have felt differently if another one of my clients, one I was more physically attracted to, had acted in the same way.

I still do not know the answers to these questions. I have not had an encounter like Smythe since then; if it happens again, I suppose I will have to examine this all much more closely.