There was just something about this one particular client, at this one particular motel, which made me feel sooo deliciously wonderful about being a prostitute. I saw him only two or three times at the same location, but the effect on my mood and attitude was always the same: "This is what it's A-L-L about!!!"
I'm not exactly sure why he--and the local Super-8 Motel--put me in this great frame of mind regarding my career choice. In the past 7 1/2 years of engaging in this work, it has certainly not always been the case that I felt this way.
My feelings about this highly controversial way of making a living have run the full gamut, from absolute shock and disbelief (in the beginning, and still at times even now) that I would ever consider having sex for money with total strangers, to utter dread of getting arrested or "outed" to the public, to the other extreme of feeling "so lucky" that I get to make such great money in such an (often) enjoyable way. Talk about MIXED EMOTIONS!!!
One of the most frustrating and even depressing aspect of this work--especially regarding its positive, "fun" side--is that I cannot share my good times with everyone I know. Most of my friends and associates are fairly open-minded and progressive, and many would understand and even find the fact of my "whoring" rather humorous, after knowing me for so long in other contexts. People mainly see me as down-to-earth, intelligent, responsible, compassionate, a good friend, etc. My rather exotic career would not necessarily contradict any of those attributes; in many ways, it's the fact that my personality harmonizes so well with being a high-end escort which has led to my success in this field. But I never know how someone might react to my "disclosure," so I chose my confidants and confessors rather carefully.
As I have written previously, a number of my close friends know about my "secret career," and in general I have made good choices about whom to tell and whom not to tell. The thing is, attitudes about prostitution run the full spectrum from acceptance to abhorrence, much as my moods have ranged and swung over the years regarding this work. Some people (especially women) may seem to have very "modern" viewpoints about many aspects of sexuality, but when you throw in the "getting paid for it" element, there could be a hidden Puritanical streak or other bias within them which might cause them to strongly reject me or even turn against me. So I have to be very careful.
There have been times, such as with "Mr. Super-8," when I became extremely aroused just thinking about hooking up with a client. These instances seem to be those in which I suspended my OWN personal Puritanical streak, tenuous as it may be (I believe that as Americans, we all have a bit of one, due to upbringing and cultural influences.) In his case, he was a bit younger than me, very attractive, and the first time I walked into the rather seedy motel room, there was an empty 6-pack of beer in the trash. This is not particularly typical: most of my clients are older than I am, and most are not rather buzzed when I arrive. But he was a good guy, and treated me well, and we had a lot of fun together. As often occurs after I have a positive meeting with a client, I walked out of the motel room and down the stairs just feeling very "high on life." The several encounters I had with him made me feel exceptionally so: I'm guessing that all of the elements must have been present which fit my stereotype of what "good whoring" is all about. Ha!
I remember having a sort of "waking dream" (a precognition, perhaps??) when I was a youngster just learning about prostitution. An older relative let me read Playboys and Penthouses, and it was on those pages that I gained some of my early sex education, however skewed in tone it may have been. I never, ever seriously considered this line of work until I actually jumped into it just over seven years ago, but I do recall visualizing or imagining a well-paid, stylishly dressed escort confidently walking away from a high-rise building in some unknown city. She seemed happy. I don't know that I felt it was "me" at the time in my adolescent imagination, but I'm pretty sure now that it was a sort of prophetic vision: There is a high-rise hotel in a nearby city which I visit once in awhile, and I did indeed once look up at the structure after having a successful session with a client, and recalled my image of the call girl from my childhood. My mood was exactly the same as the woman's in my vision. "Yes, that was me, after all," I concluded.
