Hiatus

As you might have guessed, I am taking a break from this blog and the activities associated with it. I am not sure yet when I will be back, probably at the beginning of January. Though I may try to chronicle some of the stories of the past few months during my time off, I won't make any promises just yet.

Hobbyists

Richardq123 asked in my previous post's comments, "What is a hobbyist?"

I apologize, I get used to writing for myself and regular readers and forget that only a very small percentage of you are actually participants in any aspect of this world.

For those of you who do happen to be acquainted with the term, however, I do not apologize for what I am about to say.

A hobbyist is a "john", in other words, a client of escorts. However, he transcends the moniker of "john" and becomes a "hobbyist" when seeing escorts becomes more of a lifestyle than a brief diversion from life. For him it becomes, well, a hobby.

The Hobbyist, from my point of view, spends a significant portion of his life devoted, essentially, to finding the best deals in the escort business. He is prone to seeing many, many women in a short period of time (I have known Hobbyists to line up multiple girls per day, for several, if not most, days of the week).

I will admit, I use the term "hobbyist" in a disparaging manner. To me, the concept embodies not only the frequency of activity but the manner in which these men undertake it. It describes a distinct type of client: a man whose only interest is bagging women -- as many of them as possible -- and rating them as a consumable product.

Generally Hobbyists spend a significant amount of time on discussion boards bantering about the women they have seen, and equally significant amounts of time scouring the internet for great deals. They are bargain shoppers, if you will, and they have an addiction to shopping this particular market. I have actually been privy to some of the male-only discussion areas regarding this business, and from a woman's perspective it is not a pretty sight.

This is not to say that every john who participates in online boards and discussions falls into this category. And it is certainly not anything but my own personal opinion (and bias) -- many men proudly identify in this world as Hobbyists. Those are men I would rather not spend time with.

I suppose to put it succintly: Hobbyists truly see all women in this business as prostitutes. And in giving that description, I intend "prostutite" to hold the full force of the connotation behind it (which is a topic for a different discussion).

It is no secret that the type of men to which I am referring frequent specific places online. Women in this business know precisely the mainstream site to which I am cryptically referring, but I prefer to leave such details out of my blog.

Hope that clears things up.

Secrets and Friends

Escorting can make for a lonely lifestyle. I have never had an abundance of friends; I am close to a small group of people, none of whom know each other, most of whom do not even live in the same state as I do. I have a couple local girlfriends with whom I speak fairly frequently, but sometimes it can be difficult talking to them since most of the stories I want to tell revolve around clients, the business, and how it is affecting my current decisions and daily schedule.

I notice that, with these friends, I end up talking at great length about very minor events in my life. If I were listening to someone else hash over the minutiae that I do, I would be rolling my eyes and making an excuse to go wash my hair. I exaggerate my relationship with Redford in order to "fit in" -- these girls all have significant others and should I remain without one for too long, they will begin to try setting me up.

Before Redford, I would mention to friends every once in awhile that I had a date with so-and-so, that I met a great doctor, and so on, but I cannot use this situational facade too frequently. If I were really dating as frequently as I go to appointments, they would want to meet the man in question, or they would begin to question me if I revealed that my dates were with so many different men.

The awkwardness of not truly being able to discuss my life makes me shy away from the local friends I do have. I have never had a truly great imagination, and I am horrible at telling lies. So fabricating story after story about how I spend my time is out of the question. I try to play up the developments in my legitimate small business, and hope those who know me believe what I say.

Visiting those friends who do live elsewhere is somewhat tricky, as the smart move would be to advertise and take appointments in those cities that I visit. This means I have to plan being in town a couple days without telling my friends, and, potentially, that I have to schedule appointments around the time I am visiting with them. Hotel arrangements are often covert since friends believe I am in town solely to see them and they would not dream of me spending money on a hotel -- most of them know that I am in a financial bind (remember, that is the reason I began escorting).

Girls that I have met who are in the business are just as tricky. I do not trust them, nice and sweet as they seem. I give out fake names and ages, worry that I am revealing too much about myself to them, wonder if I should be sharing business information with them.

That leaves only this journal as a method for me to release the feelings and thoughts I have about what I do. And as much as I originally wanted to chronicle the ins and outs of the appointments I have, it is getting more difficult to do so without feeling as though I am revealing more than I should. The more I disguise them, the less benefit this really has for me. And as always, I worry about being discovered through the journal. My only consolation, which I have begun to realize, is that most of the men I see are so engrossed with their professional pursuits that they really do not have time to browse online and read blogs. This is certainly one advantage of moving away from "hobbyist" clientele.

Just Another Chunk Of Change

I have taken to feeling extremely detached from this job. Not from the work, no, I enjoy the work. But I see most appointments as money until the moment I am in the person's presence. I think this is my way of calming the nerves and not working myself up over the meeting. Though I do enjoy the build-up and anticipation with a lot of clients, while I am actually getting ready and during the trip to meet the person, I remain extremely detached, not thinking about the nature of what lies ahead.

I have an appointment this afternoon with a regular. Regular appointments start becoming slightly confusing to me. I am tempted to dress down, to throw something on and run out the door with just barely enough leeway to appear on time.

New appointments are almost never like this. Once in awhile they are, and I have to laugh at myself, sitting at home 2 hours before the date - hair a disaster, makeup smeared from the night before, unshowered, unshaven, completely unprepared. Yet I always manage to fix myself up and both present and play the part of a high-priced call girl.

In a normal situation, I will spend a good part of the day, or time in advance preparing for a new date, picking out a new outfit, some new lingerie, going to the salon, and so forth.

Regulars, though. Depending on the client, I tend to not get too giddy at the prospect of the appointment. For one thing, some of my regulars tend to see me frequently enough that there is no thrill, no titillation, no pent-up desire to release. Some just do not incite any passion in me (and yet, there are some who do).

The last time I saw this man, let us call him Walter, I put some effort into dressing up; I treated him as if he were a new client, even though he was a regular by then. He mentioned that I looked great, and we lounged around and chatted for a bit. Soon enough the clothes came off and I had to wonder if my preparation really mattered at all. It is hard to tell, sometimes. Perhaps the time that I spent reclining on his bed in my dress, the glass of wine in my hand, was a visual turn-on to him. Maybe my makeup and hair is part of what he is paying for when he sees me. I tend not to think so, though.

Not that I think I should neglect my appearance. There is, however, a distinct difference between a dinner appointment and a casual appointment. First-timers are always dinner (occasionally lunch) appointments, and they tend to be a bit more formal, requiring a specific dress and demeanor. Hence my confusion with regulars. Do they expect me to continue dressing up? Daytime meetings allow a little leeway, but for an evening appointment, what is expected? I have never shown up to appointment in jeans, but I am tempted at times like this.

Right now I am sitting in my bedroom, typing here when I shold be showering, considering doing some laundry. I have about 90 minutes to get ready to see Walter, and I have no idea what I will wear. I am not even positive I have any clean lingerie -- or regular underwear, for that matter -- to wear for him. Sure, a whore can get away without the panties, but that tends to work best with a skirt. My dress style with Walter has been far more classy and elegant than a short skirt with no underwear. Changing it up seems a bit risky; he is a good source of income, after all. On the other hand, maybe it would be fun for him.

My original point was that the job is still a job. As I half-heartedly sort through my clothes trying to pick out an outfit, I keep telling myself: Just get it overwith. Two hours and you're done, you'll have your $[insert ridiculous amount of money here].

The reality is that I will see Walter and have a decent time. It will not be as cold and detached as I see it from out here. Walter actually does bring me to orgasm, and he as sweet and non-threatening a client as they come. He is not particularly attractive, but neither is he obese or unattractive.

I have a strong urge to masturbate right now, but I will save it for Walter.

If It Walks Like a Duck

Last night I left the hotel where I was seeing a client and as I left, I smiled and sashayed past the attendants and bellhops as I always do. And as always, they (always men, never women) smiled effusively and kow-towed to me on my way out, grabbing doors, bowing and tipping hats, generally falling over themselves to help me.

This particular hotel is one that I have visited multiple times, and it is not the only one where I make a semi-regular appearance.

Becuase I do not book hotels -- I merely visit my clients wherever they are staying -- I do not have much say in where I show my face, or how often it happens. Though it is relatively unlikely that I will run into the same employees every time I visit a given location, I do often feel that they are smiling, or perhaps smirking, behind their little white gloves.

Let's face it: I am an attractive young woman, who walks into a five-star hotel alone, dressed to the nines, with impeccable hair and makeup. I am not carrying any luggage, only a large tote, and I smile and greet the attendants on my way in while my stiletto heels mark my passage down to the elevator bank. I almost always meet a gentleman in the hotel lounge (which is usually near the entrance) and accompany him up to his room.

One or two, sometimes three or four, hours later, I click-clack my way back down the hall; put-together but perhaps not quite as impeccably as I was on my way in. As I make my way towards the door, the procession of attendants begins again. Often, I give them a sly smirk -- I cannot help it, I feel as though they are in on the secret, and they probably are -- as I wait for them to open the door. I am ever so pleasant, occasionally jovial, and they are like little boys, eager to please me as I head off into the night. Sometimes I catch them nudging each other with their elbows when they think it is outside my field of vision.

I know they can't help but notice my slightly-tousled hair, or the simple fact that I spent only a couple hours in the hotel, visiting a room, before I leave again. Or, in some cases, the fact that I was at the very same hotel only a few days earlier, or last week, playing the same game.

Sometimes I wonder how many of us the hotel workers must see in any given day, week, or weekend. I do not know if they suspect anything at all, if they suspect but wonder about whether it is possible, or if they just know flat out what is going on beneath their noses. Does it amuse them? I cannot imagine that they are clueless as to what the girls like us are doing. I play coy and hope that they are on my side, which they appear to be.

A Decision Is Made

I know I have been absent as of late. I have been struggling a bit with the Redford situation, but I think my turmoil has abated.

I have still been taking appointments, though not many. I have not been going out of my way to advertise, but I also do not feel the conflict that I did a month or two ago about taking appointments.

Basically I have made a decision and I have chosen the business over Redford. I hate to say it so bluntly, but this is the truth. I am not sure whether Redford is not the man I had hoped, or if I really am not meant to be in a committed relationship right now. We are still together, but he wanted to take things slowly and I have just been letting it crawl along. Such a pace is not at all conducive to passion, and in my opinion, slightly counterproductive to the formation of intimacy. Luckily, the passion quota is being fulfilled by my business escapades. Intimacy, we shall see where that goes.

I still believe he is a great man and would make an excellent husband and father; I am just not sure whether that is what I am looking for now.

At the same time, my original conflict when this situation began must mean there is a glimmer of romanticism in me somewhere. I harbor visions of a family, of a committed and loving relationship somewhere inside me. Yet, when the possibility arises, I lose all interest in making it a reality. The allure of the adventure of being with different men beckons so strongly. Or is it that the threat of commitment scares me away? Maybe I just realized I did not like Redford as much as I thought I did. Honeymoon periods always end, do they not?

Oh, I do not know. I am skimming details; the situation is not so cold as that. The Redford saga is not nearly over yet, but as far as its relationship to my escorting, I think I will not be talking about him nearly as much.

After A Break

For the past several months I have taken nearly two weeks off from escorting, each month. Sometimes it is self-imposed, such as during the STD scare (all clear, by the way), and sometimes it is just due to the ebb and flow of clients.

Each time I schedule my first appointment after the break, I am incredibly nervous. It is as if I am a novice escort all over again. I worry intensely about whether my screening process is adequate, whether I will live up to the client's expectations, whether the client and I will actually click, whether I will get found out this time -- granted, this is more of an issue since Redford entered the picture.

I have a new client tomorrow and I have been screening him relentlessly. He was a bit harder to verify than some, but because he is in the same field as Redford, and approximately the same age, I had to try to be sure there was no connection between them. Paranoid? Yes I am, thank you for asking.

Getting Seasoned

Until now, I still considered myself a fairly newbie-ish escort. Yes, I have been at it for longer than many, but I did not see very many clients and considered each one a new and exhilirating experience.

For the most part, I still find a certain thrill in seeing new clients. Of course, there is currently the dark cloud of my fear of STDs, which has only slightly abated, but I am trying to re-assess my risks and precautions in order to deal with that.

I keep a calendar where I mark down the days that I work as an escort; I only ever see one client per day, so by looking at the day I can generally remember who I saw and what the experience was like.

That time has ended for me. I was looking over my calendar for this month and I noticed that I had two appointments just last week. My first reaction was to think that I was mistaken -- I did not remember seeing two clients so recently. My second was to rack my brain over who they were. Once I remembered who the clients were, I did not, as I used to, go over the details of our time together -- I simply remembered their names and faces, and then promptly erased the memories from my mind.

The third thing I thought of was how close (temporally) my next encounter with Redford was to each of those appointments. Because I do not remember being with Redford this past week and having any thoughts of escorting, or any guilt about seeing clients when Redford and I are so obviously growing closer.

Despite this, I am still seriously thinking about put escorting on hold while I am with Redford. I am finishing up any appointments I already have scheduled, and I am going to try not to take any new ones. This is somewhat easy to say now as I require advance booking and client requests have been barely trickling in, which is extremely unusual. I am not sure what led to the slowdown, though I have been slowly drawing away from most of my internet involvement in escort circles. My tactic is to just to take it for what it is and use the lull as a natural way out for now. Normally I would have been pushing advertising before it got this slow, but the current state of things makes it easy to decide to take a break. It is somewhat frustrating as I recently paid in advance for advertising on some sites and that was a waste of money.

I only have one month's worth of savings, so I need to get on the ball with some other sources of income if I really intend to go through with this break. Hopefully I can stick to my guns and ignore any new bookings no matter how much I need the money. My newfound ability to instantaneously forget about appointments makes it ever-so-tempting to continue on this way -- perhaps not using escorting as my main source of income, but taking the errant appointment here and there for extra cash while Redford and I develop our relationship. So easy and so dangerous. We shall see what happens. I am making no promises just yet.

Crack In The Facade

I am being forced to question a lot of the ideals in my life -- what do I truly want out of life, what are my goals, what is my motivation?

I have always been introspective, oftentimes to a fault, I am sure. I can become overly brooding and moody when left to my own devices. Most people do not see this side of me as I can be an extrovert when needed. And for the past couple years, especially during the time frame since I started escorting, I have conveniently focused on the extrovert side and ignored my nagging thoughts about my inner self.

"Where are you going?"

"What matters to you?"

"What do you contribute to the world?"

"Do you truly care about anything?"


It is so easy to flit through life, aimless but for the goal of getting through the next day, the next week, paying off this month's bills. With no goals, it is easy to scoff at the idea of a relationship. Why would I need or want one? Every second, every minute of every day is all about me, right here, right now. This mindset does not bother me. Not really. Not very much. Maybe a little.

Maybe even a lot. I just do not want to see it.

Safe Sex

A little musing based on Stretch's comment on my previous post:

I find that I have practiced far safer sex as an escort than I ever did in my normal life. Thinking of my non-escort female friends, promiscious and not, I am 100% positive that I practice the safest casual sex of any woman I know.

As I said, at this point not everything is 100% covered, but, for example, I never even considered giving a blowjob with a condom on before this profession; since I started escorting, I frequently, but clearly not always, give covered blowjobs.

I also had lots of unprotected sex before I escorted, with little discussion or proof of good health beforehand. Usually my partner and I would talk about it very briefly, and occasionally only after the deed had been done without a condom.

Certainly my moves back then were unwise, but I think that girls who work in the sex industry tend to, as a whole, practice much safer sex than girls who do not.

I have also dated two men who, despite having had the STD talk, told me months into our respective relationships that they had STDs which they had failed to previously disclose to me on the grounds that they were "cured". Except the reason each guy brought it up was that he was having a recurrence of it, and it was not until then that he felt he had to tell me. I had unprotected sex with each of them for months before either one told me. There's safety for you.

Condoms can break whether you are a prostitute or not, so that risk is just something that comes with having sex, period. There is, however, a scumbag move that some guys try to pull: they already have the condom on, but once they are behind you doggie style, they remove the condom to sneak in some unprotected sex. The only guy who ever tried this on me was someone I dated. I have never had a client do it, and believe me, I always check.

I also get checked more frequently for STDs now, and I pay very close attention to the scheduling of my tests. When I went in for my first test once I started escorting, I could not honestly remember the last time I had been tested before then. I knew that I got them once a year during my annual ob/gyn appointment, but they were not overly comprehensive, and I could not even remember the month of my last appointment. (I certainly got tested, and cleared, for the STDs that my boyfriends mentioned above had likely exposed me to.) Now I know the day of my last tests, which are very comprehensive, and the day of my next ones.

Yes, I have more sex now than I did before I escorted, but I also have much safer sex. When I think of the most risky sex I have had, it has all been outside of escorting.

I suppose all that is to say: escorts are not automatically dirty whores. Professional escorts, as a group, are probably a lot cleaner and safer about sex than your average girl.