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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.

Last Build Date: Tue, 22 Aug 2017 23:10:07 +0000



Wed, 25 Oct 2006 18:03:00 +0000

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.

Annual Review

Fri, 29 Sep 2006 06:45:00 +0000

It has been just over a year since I began this blog. My very first posts are no longer public, and along the way I have taken out many of my entries as I have tried to navigate the intricacies of writing semi-publically about a very private endeavor.

In the past year, I have spent time off and on immersed in the business. Especially near the beginning, full months would go by where I concentrated only on research, and even now I occasionally take an extended break to recharge myself. For the most part, my involvement has been part-time; I have made decent, but not extraordinary, money. Basically I have just succeeded in getting my feet wet, and I feel that I can take the next step forward.

My brief fling with Redford -- which, incidentally, is now fully finished -- made me realize that now is the time to take advantage of escorting. I do not wish to be tied down to a relationship, and I will not let it happen again anytime soon. Since cutting myself free of Reford, I have a newfound gusto for escorting and am enjoying the thrill of the business all over again.

I have learned quite a bit about the types of clients I will and will not see, the number of appointments per week and month I am comfortable with, and how to deal with the mountains of practical issues surrounding various types of visits. This has all come from my own experience, and looking back I do wish I had the luxury of a close friend in the business to help guide me through certain patches. Everything for me has been trial and error, accompanied by occasional bursts of creativity.

Of all the varied experiences these exploits have exposed me to, none have pushed my boundaries too terribly much. Perhaps this is because I do not cater to a fetish audience, or perhaps it is because I screen well. Perhaps it is simply a matter of time before I encounter an unsavory character (knock on wood), though I certainly hope that is not the case.

Sometimes I forget that I am still relatively new to all of this; I feel a somewhat unwarranted camaraderie with many of those who I researched before I got started. In most cases it is not reciprocal, of course, as they have no idea that I admire them, but I see them on various internet sites and often wish I were of the same stature. This envy comes mostly from their being able to charge extreme amounts of money, and my wish to emulate them is almost entirely based on my desire to be out of debt, as many of you well know.

Still, another tricky area to navigate has been in dealings with the other women in the business. It would be nice if we all looked out for each other, but this is far from the case. I find it extraordinarily difficult to trust other escorts, even as much as I would like to. Cattiness and competition abounds in the community, and jealousy and sabotage happen as much as encouragement and assistance. I tend to just keep my distance from it all.

I have made some changes to how I conduct business, and it is not entirely infeasible that I could be debt-free within a year or two. What a concept! I am quite impatient and wish that I could be doing other things with the money I earn, but because I am used to living frugally, I have been able to handle it thus far.

A huge thank you to my readers and commenters, some of whom have remained steadfast through my dry spells, and to the other bloggers in our little blogging niche. I feel somewhat peculiar singling out one name, as there are many of you who I admire (often silently), but the truth is I would not be here without the one and only Clandestine Call Girl, so a special thank you to her as well.

Wish me luck on making the next year of business far more successful than the first, as that is my plan.


Fri, 15 Sep 2006 05:08:00 +0000

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

Tue, 12 Sep 2006 11:18:00 +0000

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

Sun, 03 Sep 2006 22:35:00 +0000

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[...]

If It Walks Like a Duck

Fri, 25 Aug 2006 13:13:00 +0000

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

Tue, 22 Aug 2006 09:37:00 +0000

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

Thu, 17 Aug 2006 22:11:00 +0000

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

Wed, 09 Aug 2006 19:30:00 +0000

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

Sun, 23 Jul 2006 18:13:00 +0000

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

Fri, 21 Jul 2006 12:32:00 +0000

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.

STDs Are Scary

Thu, 20 Jul 2006 18:33:00 +0000

I am going through a bout of extreme fear over contracting an STD. Any STD would be bad, and of course HIV would be the worst, but right now I am fretting over the idea of herpes. I do not believe I have it, but life would be horrible if I somehow contracted it.

After realizing that my throat has been horrifically inflamed from three consecutive days of deep-throat, uncovered blowjobs with three different men, I am losing it. I do not normally have more than one appointment per week, so this possibility never occurred to me before now. I am going to have to take a break from working (and from fooling around with Robert Redford) until my throat heals.

In the meantime I have nearly been scared straight. I stared down my throat with a flashlight and a hand-mirror for far longer than was good for my mental health. I feel as though I could have seen a lesion, but really it is so hard to distinguish much while you are holding a flashlight with one hand, a mirror with another, and you are saying "ahh" while trying to hold the mirror steady and shine light on all the cracks and crevices deep in your throat, all the while torturing yourself with thoughts of your carelessness and how it could lead to the stigma of, god forbid, an STD.

I will go to the clinic tomorrow, though if I caught anything in the past few days it is almost certainly too early to tell. My throat was probably already severely irritated as of Friday night, and I had oral contact with two other men since then, which only made it worse. I do not allow them to come in my mouth, but today's client oh-so-thoughtfully declined to inform me when he was coming and so I am sure some small bit made it down the hatch. As much as I hate to do it, I will probably be instituting a policy of covered blowjobs (which means: with a condom on), no exceptions.

On top of all this, with last night's client, the condom broke. He did not come inside me, but this is still all too much for me to bear. Perhaps the risks inherent with this job are too extreme for me. Perhaps I need to manage my risks much more carefully.

I am so extremely paranoid right now that I feel as though I should not risk any more sex with strange men, or any men for that matter. A break is definitely in order, though I have to work out how to explain to Robert Redford my sudden reticence at engaging in all things oral. We have two dates scheduled over the next week and while I may be able to explain things away on one night, I cannot for the life of me come up with an innocuous explanation for why I cannot use my mouth for an entire week.

Be Careful

Fri, 14 Jul 2006 23:53:00 +0000

I am having an intense battle with myself regarding work vs. Robert Redford. Up to now, neither he nor I have consented to dating anyone for an extended period of time, mainly for the same reasons: We do not want to waste our time in unfulfilling relationships. So then, why are we seeing each other? If it is because either of us sees that there may be something more intense, more lasting here, well, that is a bit scary.And through our conversations and time together, I have learned that he is a man who fully respects women and does not take sex lightly. I am completely intimidated by this. To be honest, I have never dated a man who took the time to establish my boundaries before the deed; in fact, I have never really dated a man without sex involved in one of our first meetings. While I am careful in my work, I am not ultra-conservative regarding safety. I do not use dental dams or latex gloves, I do not always use condoms during blowjobs. Sex, of course, never happens without a condom. I understand the risks associated with my decisions and accept them.Except now, I am getting worried. If Robert Redford and I take this further, and I keep working, I would not be okay with the risk of contracting an STD. He and I have talked about testing and when our last tests were conducted. If I came down with something, it would be obvious that at the very least I was "cheating" on him (another topic entirely). So if I plan to continue working, I would have to move toward keeping everything completely covered -- and even then I think I would be nervous.I apologize if I am rambling. I am just very confused. I am trying to plan extended engagements, confirm travel trips over the next couple months, set up meetings with girls who are coming into town, and work on business and accounting strategies. Besides all this, I need the cash. The thought of turning off the pipeline anytime soon just bewilders me -- what would I do? Not only would I need a replacement for the money, but do I really want to give up running the business that I do? I will have to make a choice. I think Robert Redford is a worthy addition to my life; one that I am not quite willing to pass up. I made the decision to go after him and now I have to consider the consequences.Either I will give up escorting and give Robert Redford a shot, or I will become a much different person than I have ever been up to this point -- living a life based on deceit and lies. There are very few lies I have to tell to cover up my current situation. I work enough at my other business to cover for the money I make, which all goes to paying off debt anyway, and I spend so little time with any single person that nobody notices how often I go on dates. My current level of fear of getting caught is quite low, not only because of the precautions I take, but also because there is nobody around who would be particularly hurt by my lifestyle. Put off, maybe, but not in a way that would affect them personally. Bringing a relationship into the equation means that someone else could be severely affected should I be discovered.I have begun looking for a straight job, partially in order to help pay off my debt faster, but the prospect depresses me mightily. Not so much because of the change in earning power -- I am less concerned with earning power than with the actual dollars brought in each month -- but because I am an entrepreneur at heart. This business fills that need. It probably would not be too hard to find a job that pays, monthly, what I have been averaging since I came into my own. As I have said, I am low-volume, and while I bring in much more money than I ever did in previous jobs, my income is not outrageous. It appears that I have a lot[...]

Getting Bored

Wed, 12 Jul 2006 10:17:00 +0000

Bored probably is not the correct term. Disillusioned? No, I do not think this is correct either. But I am not as engrossed in escorting as I imagined I might be by this point. Part of it is Robert Redford; I find myself holding a lot back because of his presence in my life. Part of it is just the boredom that sets in once the novelty of anything I do wears off.

I really did not want to go to tonight's appointment. It had been planned several weeks in advance and was an extended engagement, so I really could not cancel (plus, I have been counting on the money for this month's income). As I sat at home awaiting the time frame when I would start getting ready, I felt such extreme apathy about the date that I was almost startled at myself.

Getting ready and making my way to the appointment site felt like pure ritual. Perhaps because casual attire was requested -- I prefer dressing up, as it feels more like a special occasion and less like work.

When I met my date, I was on, but as usual, in the middle of sex, I became pensive. Snapped out of "call girl" mode and into "girl next door" mode. I wished it were Robert Redford I was with. I thought about how much I dislike certain types of sex, and whether it really was worth it to be laying on my back taking a severe pounding from someone who, for all intents and purposes, was a stranger. Granted, we had spent a good 90 minutes chatting and relaxing over wine before we got down to business, but realistically we were strangers to each other.

Then I thought about the money I had sitting in my bag and realized that as of today, all my bills for the month are accounted for. I do not need to take another appointment this month if I so choose. On the other hand, I feel as though I should cram in as much work as possible before things get serious with Robert Redford, as I have a feeling they will.

Positive Things

Mon, 10 Jul 2006 17:29:00 +0000

The men I see are, for the most part, very much gentlemen with me. Though they are often married with children, they treat me like a princess, and make every effort to be "good boys". I have been lucky (knock on wood) to not have encountered anyone who has treated me with less than the utmost respect. I attribute this to my marketing presentation and screening, and I certainly hope it holds up.

The time I spend with men is about connecting. I make them feel like they and their pleasure are the most important thing in the world, and their problems as far away as possible. Making others feel good has always made me feel good, and I am not bothered by my current means to this end in the least. Before now, doing for others often meant that I was not doing for myself. We all win, this way.

A Simple Fact

Fri, 07 Jul 2006 19:52:00 +0000

Before I started escorting, I often felt guilty and sometimes used after having casual sex with someone. I enjoyed sex, but rarely had an emotional attachment to go along with it. And so, I did what men wanted because it pleased them, and I took what I wanted that pleased me. I used and was used and I hated the whole mindset that was involved.

Do not misunderstand me. I was getting as well as I gave. I wanted it too. Sexual release was my only goal; emotional attachment was the enemy. Still, it all felt wrong.

Now put money into the equation. Magically, cash erases all my negative feelings about these situations. Approaching sex as a business actually lightens my emotional load (no pun intended). I do not feel guilt about accepting money for my time and sex, certainly not the guilt I felt after a "walk of shame" to my car from some guy's house, or after waking someone up and kicking him out of my bed in the morning.

I may go so far as to say I feel empowered. I am afraid to give this feeling up for anything less than the most mind-blowing relationship on earth. And who can guarantee, or even realistically offer, that? I do not see it happening. Especially when I am not sure I am capable of accepting and contributing to such an opportunity.

Another Week

Wed, 05 Jul 2006 16:44:00 +0000

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.

Can I Date?

Sun, 02 Jul 2006 02:14:00 +0000

The man I recently met has definitely gotten my attention. I have seen him a couple times since last week, brief visits that have left me craving more time with him. And, for once, I am taking it slow.

The idea of taking appointments while I am seeing him is not what is bothering me at this point. It is the idea of having to be somewhat accountable for my time to another person. He (to whom I have yet to give a name) and I have not slept together yet, so maybe my point of view will change, but currently I consider my job and whatever is happening with him to be completely separate parts of my life. I would like to keep it that way.

I am feeling uptight about this because he asked me tonight what my schedule was like over the next week. "Let's see," I thought, "one appointment tomorrow afternoon, one rescheduled appointment tomorrow evening -- the one whose cancellation today allowed you and I to spend time together tonight, two possible appointments awaiting verification the next couple days, and one final confirmed appointment on Thursday morning."

What I actually said was, "Well, I'm busy Monday night, but other than that I should be pretty free." Not true, but easier to say.

This becomes a problem because he does not have a 9-to-5 office job. He has a lot of discretionary time during the day. He knows that I "work from home", so if we begin to spend time together, how do I explain all the work I do away from home?

Clearly I am jumping the gun. I cannot even say that we are dating, but the connection we have is something strong enough to give me pause. It is just that I am enjoying my relatively newfound freedom and current financial gains, and I do not want to ruin it. By the same token, I have to weigh what I really want out of my life as a whole, something I have been touching on and repressing in my mind for quite some time now. Financial solvency is only a short-term goal. The time is fast approaching when I will be forced to face the music and re-evaluate my life.

The Fantasy of Intimacy

Fri, 30 Jun 2006 00:11:00 +0000

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[...]

Becoming Emotional

Tue, 27 Jun 2006 17:34:00 +0000

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

Tue, 27 Jun 2006 08:49:00 +0000

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.


Thu, 22 Jun 2006 09:26:00 +0000

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

Sun, 18 Jun 2006 23:28:00 +0000

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,[...]