Archive for the 'reverse escorting' Category


Before you get vomited out, you must first pass through the belly of the beast

it’s official.  i hate sex work right now.  and i think i have for quite a while now.

but i am not trying to “get a job” either.  I am working hard on my art, submitting proposals, actively seeking new opportunities on a full time basis, doing the work to become the artist I want to be, as Gandi would say.  I wish that I wasn’t such an idealist, i am so suprised it hasn’t been burnt out of me.  I remember this feeling of nausea, of hatred of each day…of the impatience at the same shit on a different day.

2 bum calls and one Black guy who had such scary energy I was super glad I got out of there when I did and not a second sooner.  He was the kind of man who looked like he wanted to kill me but couldn’t find a reason to.  I shined all my golden light into him but he never received me.  He was evasive and didn’t want to answer my questions and he had the death look in his eyes.  This death look is what you see when you think someone could kill you.  You may have seen this gaze in a lover or a partner’s eyes before.  I’ve seen it before.  Nothing that I could say, me the master of de-escalating myself out of violence over and over again, was going to make this guy WARM UP to me.  And that was what made me nervous.  I did not want to have sex with him.  I upsold the sex so he wouldn’t do it.  The truth was I was sick to my stomach of Asiaphile Black dudes with their Asian fetishes and varying annoying personalities.  I did a hand job/body rub with one and then actually turned down his money because I just would not allow myself to sit through a situation where I would feel molested for money again.  At least not in such a short period.  Is it their racist imperialism?  Or is that I can’t stomach faking it more than once.  I’ve concluded that that was part of it.  I actually kind of HATE regulars.  And the guys that I am actually attracted to, I just end up trying to date or discount and so it doesn’t really last long either way.  But fucking the same dude that I didn’t like the first time gets super hard for me pretty quickly.  I remember doing mushrooms with one of my sugar daddies who insisted saying “I love you” to me all the time and I literally started vomiting.  It was a great way to get out of having to be close to him or have sex with him.  I chose to hang out with my best friends instead of make $1500 a day.  They thought I was crazy.  They were worth more to me though.  I know more than ever since doing so much sex work what in this life is PRICELESS and what is not.  I knew i couldn’t stomach him anymore is why.  Throwing up was the last resource I had.  I used that money well.  But it’s gone now.  I launched my solo theatre show with it and funded a cabaret.

This Black guy wanted me to be his personal travel assistant, around the world rubbing his shoulders, Thailand, Japan.  Bleah.  That would be my equivalent to sex slavery.  I can barely work a regular job with a boss., let alone be a sugar baby for longer than a week.  My true colors shine through and I throw off their patriarchal (they usually can’t help it, they’re in their 50s) shackles and usually walk out with my last donation liberated and relieved.

I drove to this tweaker’s house 30 minutes away and the way he talked to me was so cold.  He did not care that he had wasted my time.  He didn’t have weed, or a beer to offer me, nor gas money for my time.  He wasn’t going to give me shit.  just a bongful of shit.  Bleah.  No thank you.  I just gave that up for the last time, nasty horrible fucking shit.  I won’t even try it for kicks like I used to.  Sometimes I would do it just to see if it would do anything for me.  I would take it in a few hits and marvel about how I felt nothing, compared to a few hits of smoking a bong of weed.  I was boggled by how much power it had over so many people!  I use it as a tool of hopeless self injury when I have done it, not in the ways of how many tweakers use it.   I tried to understand the mind of a tweaker but I could never do it.  I am too strong and healthy.   Never again.  The vultures they call you to partake, they have no intention in paying you.  Just getting you high and fucking you to death.  I’m so sick of all the toxic drug addicts.  I am no longer content to just take their money and exploit their addictions, because this becomes my addiction too.  It’s a form of codependency that I have…and I am trying to kick it…Because the nature of SEX WORK includes dependence on money, it a really hard addiction to kick, especially in my personal economy when love and money are in constant need.

When you are doing sex work with a partner that you despise and you hate every second that they are intimate with you, it feels like you are being molested.  (I have only been date raped so I can only imagine this is what it feels like).  Me, the survivor is always trying to push myself to the limit, to the edge….I have pushed myself for nearly 5 years now and now I would like to be done.  I have danced with the devil and burned in the belly of the beast, fought off its invitations, corruptions, and henchmen.  I have seen my potential and realized some of my dreams with this work.  I have fought hard to create normalcy and justice for myself, for other sex workers who hated me, for those that never knew.  I’m done.  But i’m just done in my head, because as you know this transition can take months or years.  I did almost transition in 2009 when I was on probation, I quit one of my agencies and had a hard time of going indy and faced the famine which led to the nearest I have ever come to suicide in my life.  I have NOT truly considered it since but i often use it as a reference point so it concerns people sometimes. I was on probation, had just lost my teaching rights and just ended a horrible relationship and quit swop-la the first time.

My facebook friend Wendy Babcock recently died.  They said she committed suicide but I don’t believe it.  She was alive and well when I was “talking” to her through her facebook posts. She was actively writing, being interviewed, doing activism and reaching out to me.  Not the kind of person who is hopeless, depressed or suicidal.  Perhaps we don’t really know what suicidal really looks like then.  It scares me.  She was born on May 29.  We have the same birthday.  When she died, a part of me died too.  She was a valiant sex worker activist in Toronto, Canada.  She and I had just connected on how negative I felt about sex work and she was a thread of hope and support for me in this time when I do need it and continue to need it.

I am trying to date men and women on various internet dating sites with very little luck.  I am experimenting with telling them I am a sex worker on the second date.  I don’t blast it in my profile.  I used to just say, fuck you, i am a sex worker, love me or leave me!!! but the kind of men I attracted were just losers and abusers so I thought I’d try a different approach…

last nite someone stood me up and I knew it was NOT about me but it just bummed me out hard because I have been working so hard on creating these loopholes, revising my profile, trying to ease someone into the idea of dating a sex worker, testing the boundaries by talking about porn, hiding the true details, accentuating the minor into major to cover up the sex work…

there are still good days and good clients.   great clients and good times to ease the pain.  thank the universe for that.   Unlike my stripper days, I am older and wiser and I know how to take good care of myself better…but it is still hard.  I am single and dealing with this on my own.  It is sort of unfair to bring a new romantic date into my chaotic mix because I am really negative and emotional…it’s hard not to just unload on someone that I want to just hold me…

I think my reverse escorting days are done too.  I tried to make it work time and time again, but in the end, it never did.  It was just a long, drawn out, unpaid or low paid session.  I was never their girl.  Never qualified and they let me know it.  In Gun Hill Road, the trans woman character (who is not a sex worker) has a lover that just fucks her but won’t take her out to restaurants or movies.  Sadly, I could identify with my last lover that I would find myself gushing wetness under every month.  twice a month at most. I knew it was abusive.  But more self abusive though.  I was complacent in going over there and indulging in what he was offering.  I do not blame myself at all because I WAS better off than alone.

I still stay in their arms if they’re decent and willing and we are exchanging good energy.  I ended my 9 month unhealthy affair with the above mentioned former client turned lover who was really just a PnP addiction.  It was just a little bit of money, lots or orgasms, affection, and a little bit of drugs.  I trained him to go from 0 to hero in 3 sessions.  I used to hate having him go down on me and soon i begged for it.  9 orgasms was the most I’d had in perhaps ten years!  Do you blame me?  In my 30s, the combo of sex love magic stays in my body and warms my spirit for a good 24 hours afterwards.  I don’t remember being that conscious of it in my 20s of even having the kind of relationship I have to body and energy as aI do at 35.

Gay boys and hookers PnP for the same reason.  Toxic people, mutual loneliness, trying to live up to beauty and sex machine standards, remnants of past trauma and the emotional deficit collide.  he didn’t call me for the last time and I wanted to injest him for the last time until he cut through my veins and caused every muscle in my body to hurt and tense up in soreness for over a week.  And then I blocked him from being able to call me (My wireless carrier allows you to do that now! I wished they had this service when the crazy white trash girlfriend was texting me cussng insults once she found out i was fucking her man).

I did a cathartic sort of Amy Winehouse-esque memorial ritual the weekend she was found dead and I learned that I was stronger than letting your addictions kill you.  stronger than drug addiction.  stronger than sex work.  stronger than rape. robbery. arrest.  racism. conspiracy theories.  mental illness.  rape culture.  pimps.  I’ve learned my lessons and it is time to move to a different chapter.



i’m limiting my facebook time to 15 minutes everyday.
a change of pace.
it means i’ll be writing more here.

understanding, analyzing and identifying MY MANIA! (patterns of manic behavior) comes like some sort of GREAT RELIEF to my psyche. Now, I am just self diagnosing myself here but i am on the road to getting a real psychiatric evaluation, but the process for the uninsured low income folks has to be an ardous one.

The feeling I’ve had lately with this self diagnosis is comprable to the feeling I had once I realized that the chronic coughing that I had been doing for 4 months in 2010 was an ASTHMATIC COUGH not a whooping cough, a cold or a side effect of my bong smoking. The feeling I had once I had come to terms with my many instances of sexual assault/abuse before 21 and had committed to working with a counselor towards healing the past and becoming stronger to survive the inevitable imperfect future…the beginning of identifying as a survivor.

I had always known I had anxiety and depression, but had never until Jessie took over SWOP-LA did I start to see that I had these manic leadership tendencies that really stunted the growth of many of the projects that I’ve started. Manic people do amazing and brilliant things though, do not underestimate our abilities! I feel liberated in identifying a pattern, but scared that every great idea is just mania and needs to be controlled with someone silencing me. like i shouldn’t raise my hand anymore. is this what psyche medication will do?

one of the peer counselors at the domestic violence/rape crisis center I started going to after breaking up with the crazy abusive ex suggested that I have ‘borderline personality disorder,’ which wasn’t curable and could be improved with the support of group therapy.

i watched a few youtube videos on a few different personality disorders and I did not see myself as having borderline personality disorder AT ALL. Her misdiagnosis could be so potentially damaging to another client who wasn’t as analytical and fact checking as i was. This counselor just did not really understand my drug use and sex work behavior. She did not understand that the period of self destuction had everything to do with the sexual abuse that occurred from my martial arts instructor.

The borderline personality is characterized by the feeling of “walking on eggshells” around an unstable person who could snap. one day they LOVE this person/husband/girlfriend and the next day they HATE them, they broke up with them, they’re throwing their stuff out the window, etc. They are deathly afraid of being alone. This describes one of my friends really well, and explains why she keeps going back to her abusive husband with co-dependent boyfriends in between. This personality disorder is believed to be created or [un]nurtured by abuse or neglect in childhood. I may have had some of those traits when I was early early in my dating career from 16-21. the time period before sex work. the golden innocent but naive era of my life. when i cared about what men thought and said about me. The period where my happiness often revolved around liking a guy and whether he liked me back. It seemed like he had all the power over me back then and it wasn’t until I started hustling lapdances that I finally got my power back. But that’s a different epiphany….

while i was researching on youtube i started looking at manic depression/bipolar videos. Manic 1/Bipolar 1 clients I have had lots of. I have been elated to princess of the week by two extremely manic sugar daddy clients. I am typing on a MacBook Pro I was gifted, can boast of being flown to Vale, Tampa, new snowboard boots, 5 star dinners…I was Sasha Gray for a week! high class escort for a month and then a piece of forgotten shit the next! O well. I still have all the things and the memories! I never saw myself in this man. I was much healthier than him, i thought…

we are all crazy. just different levels of crazy. finding compatible pathologies and mating. pair bonding in dysfunction and semi function or living life alone. My friend might be a borderline personality but I care about her, am still her friend and want her to get out of her abusive relationships and heal. but i don’t spend too much time on trying to fix her. We don’t hang out that much but i try to support her, and in turn, she does well in trying to support me but each of us has our plates full with our own stuff.

I love the Tim Burton version of Alice in Wonderland. When the Mad Hatter character has MANIA he starts spouting off Scotish soliloquies until Alice and his other friends make him snap out of it by calling his name so that he calms down. I remember having to do this with my late best friend David. He would paint for days and then sleep for days. He would mash his teeth and go off on literal mad tangents just like Johnny Depp portrayed but in such a lovable, non alienating way that you accepted it as part of him and wanted him to know that he was still lovable and talented, though he was mad. David wasn’t as mad as the Hatter, he would break out in spot on Chris Farley impersonations who no doubt was also manic but it was his mania that made him hilariously famous! My best friend David was equally brilliant as Johnny Depp, and most definitely bipolar. I am the one who introduced him to medicating with marijuana. His paintings transformed from dark, grey and green Francis Bacon (screaming zombie like figures stabbing themselves) type of paintings with suicidal themes to happy, funny stoner paintings, brilliant, bright colors, equally skilled but clearly riddled with so much less mental pain. Marijuana is medicine. It helped him, it helps me and so many others but sometimes, some of us need a little more. “DAVID!!” me and his girlfriend would yell…and he would stop doing the Flashdance chair scene in the restaurant because our table was ready…”What? What? Was I ‘going off’ again?” he’d say. “Yes, calm down. Restaurant. table’s ready.” we’d say laughing as we all headed to our table. When you are unmedicated and the world is nothing but dark and hopeless, how could it be bad to feel better, especially if the substance that medicates you does not destroy you at the same time.

I feel like I am going back in my own timeline and noticing all the times my mania was controlling my decision making and driving me to the point of burnout or inevitable failure. Sometimes at the last minute, I will look on the schedule of my martial arts school and find out that the next class is in 25 minutes and rush rush rush to try to make it, run in 10 minutes late, fight for an hour and then and only then do I calm down on the drive home. I inhale cannabis AFTER my workout, take a hot shower or bath and wait for the phone to ring. Sometimes I do all that rushing to class and I am too late and I end up getting angry at myself for always being late! Its like I get an emergency telegram to my brain and it RUNS with it vigorously for a couple of hours and then stops. I think I use the marijuana to calm myself down as well as to help with the depression, although at times being stoned has increased my mania, increased my good idea outbursts at meetings and increased my dominating the room or conversation with jokes or performances. People definitely think that I am funny and have good ideas, but they rarely get on board with them and now I know why! It’s almost like I need to call my own name and calm myself down when I begin to “go off” and start envisioning fire department permits so we can have Burningman style flame throwers and live amplification in West Hollywood for the next December 17th Day of Rememberance.

i have had clients with borderline personalities, in my last relationship i fell in love with an undiagnosed schizophrenic who may have had borderline as well, and have lived with a mother who went completely mad for over a year but somehow came back but not nearly quite back to normal. The videos say that the best way to be X is to be raised by X. This is true for alcoholism, abusive patterns and mental illness it seems. Most of my exes are codependents and this man that I was most recently attracted to is also a codependent but with interesting talents, a job, a car and more direction than most of them have ever been.

Escorting has a lot of head games. A borderline personality type client will say they are coming to an appointment, they are on their way, getting off of the first light, and then oops, they’re cancelling at the last minute. What makes them borderline and not just regular clients who are flaky though has to do with the story that they spin and weave you into BEFORE this manipulation. They pretend to empathize with your situation, they will haggle your rate down knowing it degrades you, and then on top of that they will cancel at the last minute. They feel that if they let you down before you let them down they have somehow survived something. Or maybe they never had the money in the first place and were just playing a game with you. I am in contact with a lot of head cases as both a sex worker and as a sex worker activist. But perhaps it’s because I am also crazy and only crazy people can tolerate crazy, but our pathologies have to match up!

The feast or famine pattern of sex work IS MANIC DEPRESSION defined. How could it not be depressing to be unable to pay your rent on time, pay bills that you normally can pay, to not be able to do destressing activities like workout in martial arts and yoga so you don’t feel so much anxiety? How could it not be elating to suddenly have money to pay doctor bills, buy needed prescriptions, pay musicians to back you up in gigs that you have coming, pay a director to get your solo theatre show off the ground and premiered to the public? I reasoned that if you were not manic before you started sex work, independent sex work and (stripclub stripping also has this pattern) will CREATE symptoms of manic depression in anyone. But maybe this is just the way it is for everyone who runs their own business. When I worked for the agency 4 days a week and took indy calls on the side it was way less manic, but crazier in a different way. (you can never win).

I get soo excited by men (and women, really) who are above and beyond because I’ve dated such low men on the totem pole. When the “ideal man with the ideal job/house/car” that I had a mad crush on called me back to talk I felt incredibly insecure about my class and my work and any future we could have. He would never accept or like a girl like me, I knew it. I can’t keep my mouth shut about my bohemian lifestyle. It emanates out of my person even when I am not speaking. I suddenly realized why I sometimes shoot low, and crawl into bed with a sancho that I nicknamed my LAME (but sweetie). I get to see him whenever he feels like making time for me, which is randomly about twice a month. He makes me feel great in limited doses until something true comes along. He reverse escorted me somehow. I use him for short term Boyfriend experiences. (BFE)s and it is good for what it is because I have zero expectations. I care about him more than he cares about me. Sometimes, I wish I could make him better or somehow up his game and fall in love with me and do those things that people do for people that they love, but he never will. But when he is there for me it’s soothing and nice. It keeps me from being undergoodsexed and lonely. He’s not capable or interested in having a relationship with me or anyone, and it’s really okay because he’s pretty inadequate as a temporary boyfriend as it is (...youd rather change your own windshield wiper blade than see his weak ass whiny reaction to your request). The relationships that he had had not been as demanding as one with me would be. We are very different. We don’t talk about art and music. He likes the Lakers, gambling (throwing money away) at casinos and watching ESPN on a big screen TV (i don’t own a TV) are fun to him. (Bleah..) We talk about wrestling entertainment and laugh and have a great time staying in bed all sunny day (with real boyfriends I would be going on hikes or to the beach) having lots of orgasmic great sex, sleeping cuddled together, showering and making out. We go to dinner and I go home fulfilled and wanting more but am always denied. I bitch at him like I’m his baby mama sometimes but neither of us have a kid together nor are we even in a relationship tho it’s the way we interact. I even tax him when he pisses me off and he pays me a little cash so I will keep seeing him. That’s what gives it that baby mama vibe that I’m sure would be the same whether or not I had a kid or not. He helped pay for my engine repair and from that night he became my favorite client and slowly won over my heart. Money, (when someone gives me the money I need in a desperate situation) is also a trigger for MY codependence. Orgasms are also another way to keep me hooked! I am really amazed and proud that I easily trained this man from being a painfully shitty lover to the first guy to give me 9 orgasms in 12 years, so in that way I literally feel like if I can coach him to success in the bedroom, why not outside the bedroom as well? My favorite line is,”If you aren’t going to put the effort in making this like a real relationship then you gotta pay me to be your whore.” and he does. otherwise Fuck the sex. and the intimacy. RIGHT?? sometimes. something about this unattractive mediocre man is so irresistible to me….sigh.

Money (not having money suddenly) is my trigger. The borderline will say come come come come come come and at the last minute push you away and say, never mind. You can see how this can INFURIATE the wrong person into a fit of rage. Sometimes I have been that wrong person and its because I felt manipulated by them dangling a carrot and having me follow it and denied at the last minute. One of my ex boyfriends did that to me once and I nearly broke up with him because the situation led me to an outburst early on in our dating. A client that was going to be the first client in a dry spell of almost 2 weeks with little or no income decided that he would cancel in my face without giving me gas money and then turn around, run in the house and slam his door in my face as I chased after him. I started to kick his gate on his front door while I rang the doorbell vigorously. I was yelling shamelessly revealing what I did and that I needed the money, i Pleaded with him to open the door…and he did. And we went from that to a multi-hour appointment and me selling him a couple LINES of coke for $50. (like buying a beer at a baseball game, I charge A LOT). I did a couple lines with him like I usually do. I had an appointment in the Valley to escape to. I sped up the 101, flipping through my ipod and switching my air from hot to cold every five seconds. When I got to the gas station at the Universal Citywalk exit, I parked and reclined my chair to relax and think.

Thoughts raced through my blood into and through my brain…

I was too jacked up to see a client now.

I stayed in the car and put my phone on silent. The prospective clients hotel was 5 minutes away, but I chose to pass on the call and try to calm myself out of the anxiousness I was feeling from just 2 lines of coke, which usually doesn’t give me a rise like that.

This was the 2nd call since my mushroom meltdown that I had had to pass on for safety reasons. I was too jacked up to drive and the anxiety that coke sometimes brings on is crazy for someone who already HAS anxiety…! I know some of you don’t get the continued desire to use. Like living queer youth, it does get better. I love the numbing effects and the ride slowly up is light but euprhoric..the down is usually not so bad, especially with the pop of xanax as a calming aid…but lately its not been fun at the top. and that’s when we know it’s time to stop.

I decided to take a drug break. TWO TIMES now I have had to pass on seeing clients because of drugs. Drugs getting in the way of my money? Not acceptable.

I did this in january. They last about a month. A month and a half. In a period of 120 days, 100 of those days I will be offered drugs to do, often for free.

Fits of rage are exhausting. By the time I dated him, I was no longer willing to fight and yell with anyone that I was in a relationship with on a regular basis. I was not afraid to be alone. Being around him was like walking on eggshells. One moment we were in love, the next he was texting me verbal assaults and calling me out of my name with death threats. I thought that HE was a borderline. BP people make good abusers or good abusive partners. Abuse to honeymooon. Rage to honeymoon. Repeat. Not me. I did 2.5 months of that shit and threw it back in the trash. (well it wasn’t that easy, but anyway..)

I think if i can recognize my shortcomings I will be able to work on them better. If I recognize my pathologies I will be able to control their effects on me and others around me. I will understand why I tend to get fired at jobs so quickly and why my relationships attract codependent and helpless men. I am scared of psych meds. scared of losing my sex drive. I am scared of my asthma inhalers and the detrimental effects of steroids. Scared of the price. Scared of how to have a sober pregnancy when I depend on marijuana and asthma steroids everyday. I have no choice now in taking those as they change my daily physical state daily with or without them. My depression is certainly affected by the level of asthma sickness I have in any given day or week. I am dependent on these drugs to breath. 10 minute coughing fits and feeling like you might pass out at a party is depressing. The weed helps but it has not been strong enough lately. I am doing much much better now after having these epiphanies and finally making some money.

Money makes so many things possible and better in my life. I am working everyday to eliminate this cyclical pattern and make it less painful for me. My health is currently much better than it was in Palm Springs. I changed inhalers to a stronger one. A flurry of clients came 4 days in a row to ease the finnancial deficit. Her misdiagnosis was a blessing in disguise.


reverse escorting for the single provider

All my single ladies!  yes, you the ones that are not in a primary pair bond, who do NOT find themselves hugging someone close to them at night before they bed, who do NOT wake up to a lover looking at them, begging them for morning sex…who do not get the intimacy they need because they’ve decided or not decided that they are better off alone, happen to be single or escaping a horrific partner…do YOU KNOW what I mean when I say that sometimes we “get paid to get ours?”

This is more true than EVER when you are not overloaded with the sex of a primary cohabitating relationship like the kinds that I have found myself in in the last 3 years.  I’ve lived with two different guys for 2.5 years total.  I made a point to make the sex in sex work quick and utilitarian.  I had no motive to orgasm, except when I was hired by couples or I was pleasantly suprised.  I was getting taken care of at home, and because of the nature of the relationships that I was in, it was almost a requirement to save most of your enjoyment and enthusiasm for the guy that waited for you outside of your show to drive you home and fuck you to prove that his shit was better than any trick he drove you to see.

It’s been a little over 3 months since I broke up with my last codependent abusive guy whom, I admittedly had fallen in quick love with for 3 months.  This is what strung the noose of his abuse and made it so easy to overtake some of my will over the insane course of events and lies that he spewed in such a short period of time.  I am a hopeless sucker for romance and attentive compassion.  Him being an experienced textbook abuser had all of those tools in his belt but it’s false promises didn’t hold me for longer than 3 months.  I have very low tolerance for being called out of my name repeatedly and treated like trash and contrary to popular belief it wasn’t THAT part of the relationship which kept me, it was the promises of love and romance which my heart still believes in despite all his abuse.

REVERSE ESCORTING: Since becoming a single lady again, I have to find a way to fulfil my need for orgasms, sexual pleasure AND intimacy without a partner to get these things from.  Sex work is not the only outlet that I have but, when you are as busy as i am and work for a demanding agency, it is not only convenient but sensible to make the most out of the dates that you have to go on.

I barter for perks.  I have always tried to enjoy my job.  As much as possible.  If they have a nice soft bed that is seemingly made of clouds, then I might be encouraged to spend more time there.  If there is a hot tub with a whirlpool, a steamroom for my asthma, room service dinner with wine, a Laker game, a sunset island cruise, a waterfall over a sparkling swimming pool that we can sunbathe and swim in naked…and you can make me cum?  wow.  then i am yours!  how exciting for me that I am getting paid for all of this as well!  fuck yea! i love my job! i’m exclaiming on the inside as I roll around in the 600 thread count sheets and down duvet on the canopy bed overlooking the ocean…

It’s been over 3 months since I’ve had a lover sleep in my bed and roll around all day with me.  It was a gray and fiercely rainy day in Los Angeles.  Client and I were coming down from partying the night before.  (him more than me…i had gotten some sleep)  I proposed that he come over to my house and spend the day with me for free.  Strangely, at first he turned the offer down, even making a dramatic “Just drop me off” charade before jumping back in my car.  He was offended that I charged him for ONE HOUR and gave him 23 for free?  Puhlease boy, get back in the car, I said, and easy enough as it was to get him to go to the ATM to get my donation was it easy enough to kidnap him back to my place to fulfil my need to be cuddled in my come down with affection and sex while the gray hours of Sunday passed from outside my bedroom window.  I wasn’t going to beg.  I was preparing myself to allow him to be dropped off.  He was STILL a client in my eyes, although an adored one that i had created a special bond with, since he had helped me get my car engine fixed last month.  I was careful not to let this client slip too quickly into freebie land.  My rate steadily goes down every time we see each other and I know that it will be over soon unless I am willing to convert to real dating status, which because of our differences is probably not really possible.  As your escort, I stay neutral and try to remain likeable, as your real girlfriend I make you put up with who I am for who I am and I am unwilling to make changes to lots of things for any partner’s needs, demands or insecurities.    “if you want me to turn my phone off and just be with you, then you HAVE to donate, babe.” I said.”I don’t have the luxury to lay in bed all day and not work..” If he had left me then, I still would have laid in bed all day but instead be lonely and probably not have enough energy to go out on calls.

I needed him as much as he needed me.  We fulfilled a purpose of intimacy for each other and it was wonderful.  It was exactly what I needed and wanted.  I gave him the ultimate girlfriend experience without the usual barriers and rules.  We kissed a few times.  I kissed his head while I held him.  I am very affectionate.  I LOVE TO LOVE.

I allowed him to do things to my body that only “real lovers” get access to.  (Anal and kissing)  I allowed him into my bed.  He is not the best lover in the world, but we have a great emotional energy that connects between us and allows us to exchange sexual and intimate energy often without penetration because he always has coke dick.

I tried to have sex as a release with one of my new drivers (even though that is totally against my rules), which turned out to be a mistake.  I ended that one as soon as possible, and even though he was not a client, the sex was too much like a job.  He was out of my place as soon as he came in.  I gave up on him, “You can just cum now..”I said giving him the tap on the shoulder sign.  The guy had worked as a stunt cock in some porn videos recently and he seemed totally opposed to foreplay which didn’t work for me.  Ironically he had a problem with the fact that I had herpes, when little to his knowlege alll porn star girls end up getting herpes because they don’t test for it in their work clearances.  He was willing to eat their pussies without a dental dam but not mine?  Puhlease.

I LEFT WRITING THIS POST TO MEET W/ A CLIENT..Innocent 20 year old newbie.  His first time was a rip off and he was really really trying to get me to say exactly what I would do for how much.  I had just gotten nearly arrested in front of a Starbucks in LA by the same newbie routine but this guy seemed to fit the characteristics of not being a cop but i was still nervous about verbalizing words of prostitution.  Even as I alluded to them, I waited nervously for the back up vice squad to come rushing in, even though it was 1:30am and I knew that vice busts don’t usually happen so late at night.  (they like to start them early because it takes so many hours to book a girl, typically they try to set us up at 10 or 11pm).

I was doing a lot of cuddling and massaging because he was so intent on getting a full hour of whatever it was that I was offering, so I had to extend my usual routine.  Admitedly the massage part of the routine is usually only 20 minutes and the sex part is about 15 minutes, my shower is 5, closing banter is 5 and we’re both out the door in LESS THAN AN HOUR in a typical date.  It’s always PAINFULLY obvious when you get the guys who need you to spend all SIXTY minutes on them because those guys are the ones with the least to contribute to the chemistry.  This is why reverse escorting techniques are often needed for single girls like myself.  The typical escort routine can seem a little rote and impersonal even if it is cordial and there is a genuine energy exchange.

The massage part is essential because it makes it easier for two strangers two have sex with each other without much introduction.  Skin on skin and breath on back and neck are the best motivators for erection, connection, orgasm…I’ve never formally studied tantra but I believe that this is what it is for me and my client and how I practice it.

For me, it has to be that i feel enticed by the personality of the client, he has a wonderfully luxurious bed, maybe there are drugs involved which help to ease the social awkardness (or sometimes create more) OR he is hot and I would probably have fucked him for free, or there is just a distinct energy that nurtures that part of my soul that NEEDS mutual intimacy as much as he does.  Not everyone sends that energy out, so it doesn’t always reach me.  I am not pursuing these men like I would be in “regular” dating situations so if they decide to not provide for me, it is not a big deal usually because I was initially there to provide for them, and, to get paid to do so.  Reverse escorting is still a pride game.  The ball is still in my court for as long as I can hold it there.  Sometimes when I proposition for a second or extended date, even if it is for FREE, they reject it.  The real girlfriend experience is not part of their desire.  GFE just means unprotected blowjobs and kissing to some people I guess, even though that isn’t THIS provider’s definition..I try to snatch it up in the moment where it lives.  I still get paid for my time, but I give free extensions if they are willing to please me.  I am extremely tickled at how my new website states “Flexibility with my rates depend on how good of a time i am having” LOL truth spoken but still vague.  I love it.

The 20 year old and I did not have a genuine connection.  It doesn’t work with everyone.  He was ready to leave after he had an orgasm, which is what they usually want to do, which is fine fine fine with me.  This left 10 minutes to spare.  He didn’t want to try to come again.  hey, really no sweat on my part, I said.  I don’t actually include “multiple pops” in my rate, i’m just doing it because i’m trying to give you a good newbie impression really, I thought.  I even got him to tip me!

I had to save up nearly $2400 ($1800 + rental fees) to rebuild my engine which recently died and I hustled like a hooker on crack for weeks to attain that goal with the help of the agency bookings and my own private clientele.  When I finally reached my goal and I was ready to pick up my repaired Sasha Gray (the name of endearment for my Gray sports coupe that fuels all my girlfriend experiences ala Sasha Gray in the GFE titled movie) and return the rental, I asked my last client who was a young whoreaphobic but cute client if I could just sleep over for a few hours which I did.  I convinced him to cuddle me in his arms and I knew that I was breaking all his stereotypes with every word and breath that escaped my mouth.  “it’s all in your mind…”I said,”I’m just like any other girl…” He had made some sarcastic comment about “oh, the prostitute knows about safe sex?” and I responded,”why would I NOT know about safe sex? it’s my job.”  I reverse escorted him for the nite but knew he wouldn’t be calling me again.  His shame and stigma would prevent him from doing so.  I had worked soo hard to save up so much money for the repair on top of my regular rent and expenses that I just needed someone to cuddle me until it was time to pick up my car at the MINIMUM.  What I could have used was a bunch of soft kisses while saying,”I’m so proud of you baby, Congratulations.  You’re such a fucking awesome hustler.”  He gave me a couple of orgasms instead and his dick felt amazing inside of me so I let him have sex with me way more times than the average John..We both got our monies worth, sort of.

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