diary of the call girl next door

I'm a pretty simple girl who has taken up escorting to help pay off school debts. I know that I catch eyes on the street, but I see myself as the girl next door. Or, more accurately, the girl in the apartment next to you who happens to be a call girl. Here is where I try to keep track of my evolution in the industry.

Wednesday, July 05, 2006

Another Week

I had some exceptional clients over the past few weeks. One, Meyer, spoiled me rotten during our extended visit and has declared me an addiction. Not many salacious details to give about him as he was an older gentleman who was much more interested in the company than the fucking. I enjoyed his company, and will be seeing him again.

Another, George Clooney, had a total "wow factor". He was extremely attractive, stunningly fit, marvelously well-endowed, and easy-going and funny to top it off. He has been inquiring about a Caribbean getaway which I certainly will not pass up. Mr. Clooney left my head spinning -- what a find.

A couple not-so-interesting clients: The financial advisor who was pushy, stingy and bordering on whiny, while declaring that I am his newfound favorite. This annoys me. If you make the dough and enjoy me and my company that much, what is there to discuss? It certainly does not endear you to me to have to endure your haggling and baragin discount negotiations. Nor does it work to declare that I should not leave yet because you did not get your "two rounds" in. You are paying me by the hour, not by how often you get off, and if your time is up, I am sorry, but your time is up. Either compensate me for more or I am out the door.

My least favorite client recently was one whose penis reminded me of a dog's phallus. Uncircumsized -- I have learned that I far prefer them circumsized -- and not much larger than my index finger, with a miniscule set of balls. I was afraid the condom would fall off him. Not really enjoyable in any way or fashion, but I was well-compensated, so I should not complain.


Now, the new man -- I shall have to give him a name. Robert Redford. Yes, I like that.

Robert Redford has me quite confused. I am becoming more and more attracted to him, and less able to show it. I want to spend as much time as possible with him, but know that I must maintain some distance in order to keep working, and so I withdraw so as not to seem too eager.

We still have not had sex, unless you count the oral variety, and this confuses me also. Not the reasons for it, just the practicality of it. I feel as though I am a Catholic schoolgirl who is determined to not have sex, while performing every other sexual act possible without penetration. It is most frustrating because Robert Redford is the one man I want to feel inside me, the one I most want to satisfy me.

Alas, we are not lovers, only friends, and I do not know if that will change. If I want it to, I will probably have to make it happen, and I do not know if that is such a good idea right now. Unless I acquire several serious benefactors, it is looking as though it will be at least another year before I can pay off my debt.