You get what you pay for

Some people can separate sex and love. Convention would have us believe that that’s ostensibly a male trait, but from conversations I’ve had with women about such things, and from the limited amount of reading I’ve done, it is certainly not a uniquely male ability. A friend of a friend once related to me how she had met a man at a work related seminar, they rented a hotel room as soon as it finished, fucked each other’s brains out (her phrase) for an hour or two, and then never saw each other again. So there’s certainly president.

Is there any real reason why we should, or in deed shouldn’t separate the two? I’m not sure I can answer that, but I am pretty comfortable with the fact that a lot of the time I can. And in a world where we all need cash to eat, is there anything wrong with money changing hands for love-free sex. As long as no one is coerced, no one is harmed in any way (physically or emotionally) I see no problem. I am happy with the idea of prostitution, and would go as far as to say I can see a strong argument for its legalisation. Legitimizing such things has the potential to work in favour of those most vulnerable – why would a punter go to an illegal, unregulated knocking shop, when the alternative is a certified, safe, clean and healthy brothel?

When I was in my late 20s I was bored, horny and short of cash, so I registered with a male escort agency. This was in the days before the internet had seeped into almost every house in the country, there was not the plethora of escorting web directories there are today, and very few people had their own website. So I carefully chose an agency, sent off my Ā£50 registration fee, along with my self-penned sales pitch, and waited. And waited. And eventually stopped waiting. At the time I rationalised my lack of bookings as follows: adding a photo to my profile was optional, and since I valued my privacy and chose not to include one, I was not maximizing my marketing potential. The reality is, of course, I got taken for a sucker and fell for a scam.

However, if I had received that phone call, asking if I could come to a hotel in 45min, dressed in nothing but a dickie bow and thong to service the depraved desires of a bored and lonely business women, I would have jumped at the chance. And I wouldn’t have had a problem with having to keep her company at dinner, or at conferences, or on foreign business trips. But let’s be honest about this, that was never going to happen.

That’s not to say I’ve only considered being the service provider, although despite 15% of men admitting to having paid for sex, to date, I have not paid anyone to fuck me. Oh yes, Dear Reader, I have given it some serious thought, and come very close.

When I was single I would gladly have done so, were it not for a lack of funds. Working in central London meant I regularly walked past phone boxes plastered with prostitutes calling cards. I even collected a few and toyed with the idea of calling one. But it never happened.

When my marriage was at its lowest ebb, our sex life virtually non-existent, my forearm at its most well developed, and my libido least satiated, I found my way to the websites of several local escorts, a web portal for sex workers, and even a prostitution forum. Masturbation was no longer enough and I wanted a fuck. So I did my research. I had a good browse, looked at the sort of services on offer, the costs involved, the ages of the escorts, and the distances I might have to travel. I knew I wanted to fuck someone roughly my age (I have no interest in barely legal teens), someone relatively local who could offer incalls, someone who would work mornings (I had child care duties that would limit my availability in the afternoons), would have full penetrative sex (though absolutely not bareback), oral, and possibly anal, someone with real tits and a good wardrobe, possibly containing corsets, boots and gloves, possibly rubber, if she offered strapon sex I’d consider visiting her for a standard service once, and then if I felt comfortable see her again to get buggered … I knew what I wanted.

I also knew I didn’t want to go curb crawling, or risk picking up a drug addled street-walker, I didn’t want to go near pimps and had mixed feelings about going through an agency. I didn’t want to fuck someone at home (far too risky), or visit a massage parlour (I felt that was too seedy) though I couldn’t decide whether I was more comfortable with a working flat or an anonymous hotel room.

So I sat in front of my computer, mouse in one hand, cock in the other, and jerked off over the fantasy of pumping my dick into one of the whores displaying before me. (I use the word whore partly because of the literal meaning, but also because of the desirable connotations. I do not use it as a term of derision.) I drained my own balls repeatedly to the thoughts of using a woman’s body completely for my own satisfaction, and her actively encouraging me to do so. Of her fulfilling my dirtiest fantasies, dressing how I wanted, fucking how I wanted, doing what I asked, and for just an hour or two, having someone focussing entirely on me taking my pleasure. And then taking my cash.

Having found a couple of local contenders, Pia and Sarah, I had brief email conversations with them. There was some genuine off topic banter with Sarah, the sort that could make a naiive person think they were making a connection, when all Sarah was probably doing was being good at her job, and good at marketing her services. I enquired of what I should expect on my first visit to an escort; I posed the same question on the prostitution forum. I was given the information I needed. I also asked a couple of questions about their services – Sarah offered a lot more than Pia. And I decided what state my bank account needed to be in – how much expendable income I needed in reserve – before I would comfortably reach into my wallet, pullout Ā£150 and pay someone to let me stick my dick in them.

And I came damn close to doing it. What has stopped me? Primarily I think I lacked the will. The fantasy was great, but I didn’t know how I’d feel about the reality. Would it be satisfying? Would it be addictive? Would I be wracked with guilt? Would it drive the final nail into the coffin of my marriage? Would I fall for a honey trap and get the crap kicked out of me? So I haven’t don it. The flesh was willing but the spirit was weak.

There is a big part of me that would still like to have sex with a escort. Would still like to know what it’s like to have truly unbridled sex. To have my most wanton lusts fulfilled. And if I ever find myself staying alone in a hotel, in a town where I know no one, I may still do it. I may call the concierge and ask if he knows where I can get some company. And I may fall in love with Julia Roberts. Or more likely, I won’t.

17 Responses to “You get what you pay for”

  1. Excellent post Accidental. And interesting. I had a male friend who did escort services for a bit… Until he ended up in a guy’s hotel room unexpectedly and freaked the fuck out. And I work with a lot of girls who have prostituted themselves (the drug-riddled ones you mentioned), and their situations are sad. So, I am with you, on the complete legalization of prostitution. Why the hell not?

  2. Gillian Colbert Says:

    I’m completely for legalization. I think it could only help. The industry isn’t going anywhere and then it could be regulated a bit more for drug and disease testing. I’ve had a gigolo fantasy or two. I’ve had sugar daddy fantasies too.

    As for separating sex and love, I’ve done it my entire life. I’ve never had sex with any one I’ve ever loved. I want to though. I believe that love will enhance it, but sex is sex and can be good in its own right.

    Wonderful post.

    • Gigolo fantasies. Sugar daddy fantasies. Bondage fantasies. What ever next šŸ˜‰
      On a serious note, I’ve still not quite got my head round your relationship with your SO, but do you mean you love him and have no sex, or have sex and do not love him?

  3. Gillian Colbert Says:

    The latter, you must not be keeping up with BDP. I’ve stated that over there. I care for him, but I’ve never loved him. The fucked upness of that is not lost on me … truly.

    • I know, I know. I’ve really not been keeping up with anyone else’s blogs for the last month or so. And I feel slightly guilty about it – my regular readers invest time in my blog and I have neglected my duty of reciprocation. There are a few. Logs I feel particularly bad about not keeping up with and I hope no one thinks I’ve been ignoring them. But I’m barely managing to keep up with my own posts.

      But to your point…
      Do you think you will ever love him? Does he know? Do you see a future for you both? (Or should I just be more diligent with my reading?)

    • Gillian Colbert Says:

      You should be more diligent šŸ˜‰ LOL

      He knows. I care for him and there is love there, but it’s not LOVE, if you know what I’m trying to say. We have no future. We’re working towards separation. If it’s any consolation, he no longer loves me. It’s fucked up.

    • Sad. I’ll put another one of those bugs on the shelf.

  4. I wrote about prostitution a little bit today funnily enough. I think it should be legalized, too; nothing wrong with using our bodies any way we want, but not under duress, of course.

    And I’m a master at seprating feelings from sex, however, it’s hard to do long term for me.

    Lastly, don’t feel bad about not keeping up with your blog friends. Shit happens šŸ™‚ I will always check to see what you’re up to no matter if you comment on my stuff or not.

    • Some days I’m better at the separation than others. On the days I am I could quite happily pay for sex.
      I am genuinely grateful for your enduring readership. I shall make a point of reading the relevant post.

  5. Great post – again. I’m with you on desiring the escort but cautiously averting it for excellent reasons.

    • I find escorting a very insteresting topic:
      I see no reason why one shouldn’t pay for sex if one wants to get the exact sex you desire without any emotional envolvement, and I see no reason not to be paid for sex if you’re happy to provide the service.
      If prostitution were not so frowned upon, I think the world would be a better place.
      I’d love to have sex with an escort – to fuck as I want to fuck – but I made a promise to be faithful to my Wife. I’d like to think I’ll keep that. (Most of the time.)

    • Yes to all that…but being faithful must be matched with emotional fidelity. It is my experience that a partner who ignores my / your physical needs is committing an act of infidelity themselves. I have thought about this deeply. It’s the main reason I filed for divorce after years. It’s not right for one spouse to not have that connection. It’s a marital crime – but I’ll shut up now about my own issue here. It relates to what you said though. I didn’t say it lightly.

    • No offence taken.
      I would however disagree that not provideing for a partner’s sexual needs constitutes infidelity. It may show to a degree a lack of caring and giving, but I would not regard that as directly relating to fidelity.
      My twi penni’th.

    • wait a while longer then – it’s definitely in the same disregarding category. If you turned infidelity inside-out , you’d find the definition of what I’m referring to.

    • In some cases, maybe. And in some, maybe not.

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