I’m totally cracking up because I took a look at my web stats and found that at least one individual found my blog by doing a google search on “he had a very small penis.” So silly! Welcome to you, new reader.

But today’s post is not about small penises. Though I could write a book on the subject. A very short book. Well, a long book if it were to list names and dates. But I digress. I promised a couple of days ago that I’d elaborate on a comment I made about how some men have a preference for the more bawdy, or as I put it, skanky, woman.

I got a call from a prospective client. Sounded great on the phone. Met all of my criteria. And he had a special request. A college professor friend of his was coming to town and the two of them wanted to get together with two women. Like in the old days. I can only imagine what the two of them got up to in the old days. His friend already had a girl in mind who he’d seen in the past. Would I be willing to host at mine?

Hmmmm I thought. This could be interesting. I’d never entertained three people before (certainly not where sex was involved) and I’d always had a fantasy about a little group action. So I had a think and tole my new client “Sure!” With conditions of course. I would charge a double rate for this as I was hosting and basically saving them the cost of a hotel room. And I needed to first speak to the other escort before committing to it. After all, I didn’t want any nasty surprises.

He gave me her URL which I visited. She looked fine. Not at all raunchy in her photos. Not a whole lot of information but nothing objectionable. So I gave her a call.

She was what I would call “seasoned”. It’s always kind of hilarious when I talk to other escorts on the phone. Which I do occasionally when someone asks for a reference or when there’s a request for a third “participant”. I never know what to expect. She sounded a bit on the tough side but not too hardened. “Right, I know the guy you’re talking about. He’s OK”. What’s so funny about it is that the guys who see escorts get so excited about it and fantasize all day long about it. Sometimes for days, if they’re the plan-ahead types.

For her, as for me, it was all about compensation. She explained to me in great detail that if he wanted to do a group thing it would cost him extra. That’s just the way it was. For her he was simply x number of dollars. I’m certain Mr. College Professor spent a great deal of time reliving their time together and how much he pleased her and turned her on while his wife was bathing the kids or some such thing.

I stressed to her the importance of wearing something conservative. “Sexy is fine but it can’t be anything outrageous as I live here and I have neighbors. Business-sexy would be perfect. Will that work for you?” The last thing I need is to attract the wrong kind of attention. “Don’t worry, honey. It’ll be fine. I’ll wear something low-key.”

OK, great. Time to confirm with my client.

I had asked Escort #2 to come over early so we could have a drink and get to know each other a bit. I had a bottle of champagne ready. She did arrive ten minutes early. I buzzed her in.

And waited.

I tried calling her on her cell but she wasn’t answering. What the heck was going on? This suddenly wasn’t feeling right. Ten minutes later my phone rings again. And now it’s my client and his friend and they’re down at the front door with E2 who apparently can’t figure out how a door works. I’m a bit flustered at the moment because I was really hoping she and I could map out a game plan and now that was blown.

I waited at the door and when I heard them outside opened it to find my client and his friend and what I could only call a street walker. I was gobsmacked!! I hustled Miss Thing into the apartment.

She was something to behold. Her ensemble featured a short, pleather skirt, fishnets and over the knee platform boots. She topped of the look with perfect hooker makeup - you know what I’m talking about - heavy on the eyeliner which evidently had also been used to line her lips.

I’d been punk’d!

I asked her what had gone wrong at the front door. She snapped her gum at me. “I couldn’t get in! I waited there for ten minutes.”

At this point I could only speculate about what the other tenants in the building thought about her hanging around the entrance for ten minutes. My. God.

I took my client aside and remarked “She’s a bit colorful, isn’t she?”

He apologized profusely. “I’m so sorry! I’m had no idea.”

His friend had a taste for “dirty girls” apparently. And here she was. In my apartment. In all her dirty glory. This wasn’t my worst nightmare. But it was close.

So I handed the flutes around and drank down my champagne demurely as she inquired, eloquently I thought, “I hope you’ve got some weed because I’ve got a long night ahead of me.”

That being the case, I suggested they take the living room while my client and i adjourned to the bedroom. I gave them a couple of towels, opened the living room windows and shut the french doors that separated the two rooms. I’ll never forget the sounds of “Give it to me, baby” and “Oooh you dirrrrrty girl” that I heard that evening.

I suppose I should be grateful that nothing was missing or broken after it all ended. They both took showers, my client dressed and I cleaned EVERYTHING!

I can only imagine the professor’s wife. Probably fairly conservative. What would she have thought if she had known. But I’m sure I know the answer to that.

Fille x

I’m happy to say that my post What Your Guy May Be Doing Behind Your Back was as controversial as I thought it would be.

But this is OK. Mostly the comments left were sensible and supportive. I can tell that most people read the post objectively and got what I was saying.

I love the whole “you obviously don’t know what you’re talking about” attitude of the remaining posts. Listen. Just because you’ve paid money for sex does not mean you have a clue about what it means to be paid money for sex. If you could only see with my eyes. But that’s what this blog is about. Seeing through my eyes. I have literally had hundreds of experiences sleeping with men who pay for sex. And because of this my perspective (on certain men) was blown wide open. Believe me I wish I didn’t know what I’ve learned about some men. I never generalize and say “all men” by the way. Get that? Good.

And for those of you who do see escorts you can’t hold it against me for wanting to tell other people about your dirty little secret. Because that’s what it is. That’s how you view it as well. A dirty little secret. Otherwise it would come up in conversation more often than I’m sure it does. This is not a personal attack on you. It’s merely a recounting of my experiences with my clients.

I suppose I’m supposed to be the prostitute with the heart of gold, like the women in the movies, who sees the beauty and humanity of each and every guy I’ve been with. It’s difficult to see that part of a person when the exterior and the attitude is appallingly off-putting. Try seeing the beauty in a person who looks at you as a piece of meat.

I don’t have to make any apologies to anybody. I choose to do this. And yes, it’s been rewarding in many ways. I certainly do my best to avoid the guys who view me as a piece of meat. If they tell me their “handle” on some review site you can bet I’m not going to return their email because I already know this is their M.O. On the other hand, some of my clients are absolutely lovely guys and I do enjoy seeing them. They treat me with respect and humanity and tenderness and I return the favor. They are the minority, unfortunately. Men who see escorts have the luxury of going to discussion boards and anonymously talking trash about specific women in the most reprehensibly inhumane manner. This is my place to talk about my experiences as I experience them.

If you’re seeing yourself in the mirror I’m holding up and you don’t like what you see, then don’t look.

After seeing my blog post featuring his photo, Boris of thenextweb.org kindly contacted me to find out a little more about my experience as an escort in the tech world.

You can read the interview here.

I see - so sex helps you PAINT! ahhh. This is a flowerly, convoluted way of saying “I need to get laid” and his attempt to justify it.

“Hello, Fille…

I am a married professional visual artist (painter) with over 30 years
of practice.

It is my belief as well as experience that nurturing the link between
Eros and the Creative is essential to a sustainable and vital studio
practice.

In the recent past, I have been fortunate enough to have been involved
in a series of perfectly lovely clandestine “affairs”—-and, of
course, within each and every one of those relationships, there were
wonderful, bright, erotic and sensual moments that stimulated the
acute sense of aliveness that artists (and most humans, I would wager)
avidly seek.

The down side—the societal taboos, the erosion of my primary
relationship, and the division caused by the constant contingencies of
frenzied and furtive assignations undermined the positive aspects of
clandestine erotics by draining away energy that needed to be spent in
the act of painting.

During the last six months, I have discovered–aided by the purchase
of my first computer–a viable solution to the problem of finding a
muse: the Courtesan/Provider.

Very Nice!

The first woman that I met with was fantastic and the chemistry (a
tricky component to match up) was volatile, musical, and beautiful.

Alas, she had to leave the Bay Area and return to the East Coast.

Later that same email….

Standing on the loading dock of my studio, I can just make out the
name of a juggernaut of a vehicle-carrying ship (it appears to be ten
stories high!): “Trust Fortune”.

What else can I say?

See you tomorrow.

G”

As I’ve already said, British and European men are leagues ahead of American men when it comes to style. An American man wouldn’t be caught dead in a pink shirt let alone this uber-confident all white ensemble.

I’m quite certain this post isn’t going to win me any popularity contests, but I’ve never really cared about that. In no way do I believe that each and every guy out there pays money for sex. I’m hoping, for my sake at least, that it’s a minority.

So this post is for those woman who are involved with the (hopefully small) percentage of men in the total population who engage in this activity. Since I began escorting I’ve sometimes wondered how I would feel if I were in a committed relationship and I found out my guy was seeing escorts. If I were given the choice between his seeing escorts and having an affair, I’d prefer that he not have an affair and instead see someone like me.

And by me I mean an escort who is fairly exclusive, honest, intelligent, doesn’t take risks, takes care of herself and would never ever allow herself to become emotionally entangled with a client. The difference being that an affair more than probably carries an emotional component to it. Whereas when someone pays for sex, it’s generally limited to a physical act. That being said, I’m sure there are guys who get all caught up in an escort. I’ve had guys try but always nipped it in the bud.

It would be easy for me to make a generalization that all men do this, as all the men I see do! But obviously that’s faulty logic. I just hope my sampling of the population is a small percentage. I keep repeating this but I do hope it’s true. For every woman’s sake. But especially for my sake. Once you’ve seen this side of things it could really sour you on men and love if it were true that you uncovered a secret side that ALL men shared.

In the early days of doing this I remember browsing through the classifieds of other escorts and I couldn’t believe what I was seeing! A wide range of, well I’m going to call a spade a spade - completely skanky girls in spread eagle poses. And I could not imagine the guy who would get within a bargepole’s range of these girls.

But there are guys who do and I’ll tell you a story about that tomorrow. (I love it when I already know what I’m going to write about tomorrow!)

So back to the topic of what your guy may be doing behind your back. Most of the men I see are married. Some have girlfriends. I also see a range of guys who are just too hopeless and unattractive to ever entice a woman in the real world to sleep with them regardless of how many dinner dates they splash out on. Every once in a while I’ll meet a new client and he’ll be handsome and smart and young and single. Not quite sure what’s going on there but I do hope they stop when they’re in a solid relationship. My take is they haven’t met the right woman yet and don’t want to lead anybody on with casual sex. I actually respect that.

I respect that a helluva lot more than the guy who’s all “I’m happily married and I love my wife and we have a great sex life. A man just needs variety”. I call bullshit on that. These individuals obviously have some deep seated issues. They attempt to bolster their self esteem with the temporary thrill of a new sexual encounter heightened by the idea that they’re doing something really naughty by paying for it.

So ladies. How do you know your guy is paying for sex?

1. You don’t have sex anymore. Probably because you’ve both let yourselves go to the point that neither one of you are physically attractive any longer. You’re probably happy with this arrangement but he’s a man and well, men need to fuck. Even if they’re fat and gross and smell bad.

2. You call him at lunch or directly after work but he doesn’t answer the phone.

3. He travels a lot. And then doesn’t answer the phone between the hours of 8pm and 11pm. These are the hours businessmen like escorts to pop over to their hotel room. It’s usually after they’ve finished a client/coworker dinner.

4. You notice cash being withdrawn in increments of $300-$500.

5. You find bank statements at their office for accounts you’ve no knowledge of. They never have these sent home.

6. You find an extra cell phone hidden in their car or in their briefcase.

7. And of course the old standby - any charges on the credit card statement that you aren’t familiar with and sound shady. Subscription review sites like to do business under names that are obscure but “dangerous” sounding like “deathstar productions or something similarly stupid and “mysterious”.

And the last one that I hate to mention but it can’t be avoided - you’re pregnant or have recently had a baby. I’ve been really surprised by the number of men who I’ve seen who are expecting a child with their wife. I’m not sure if it’s because the wife doesn’t feel like having sex or because he’s got some hangup about a pregnant woman’s body. It’s awful but there it is.

Men go to all sorts of lengths to disguise their behavior. I once had a client - who I’ve seen many times - telling me that he was using his wife’s bonus for our tryst. My thoughts at the time were “what an asshole” and “if she only knew”.

I’m not trying to break up any marriages here. I just want women to know what they may potentially be dealing with. Because frankly, I think it’s very uncool to cheat on your wife.

This spammer made me laugh out loud! Seriously, are they using babelfish to translate? Kooky spammers!

“Hello dear user mail service Yahoo!

Recently, on the server Yahoo! a lot of mailboxes used for the SPAM. In this regard, started active work on their detection and removal from the server.

At the moment all the mailboxes with suspicious names, including yours, have been entered in the blacklist, and each user required to undergo re-authorization at the following link https://login.yahoo.com/config/login_verify2?&.src=id1192168894000r535700859b4b43aa0d6919.

After re-authorise your mailbox automatically excluded from the blacklist, because these actions, you confirm reading this letter, which could not happen at the mailbox-spammers.

Since May 2008 all the mailboxes left in the black list will be removed from the server that will cause a serious blow to the organizations and make spamming mail Yahoo! cleaner.

Remember, if you come letter clearly promotional, for which you did not give its consent, you have the opportunity to complain about SPAM. Yahoo! Administration is studying all complaints and modifies filtering algorithms for new types of SPAM.”

Oh yes. I’ll be thinking of you constantly. Uh huh. (see email below) I’m always a bit taken aback when clients get a bit too emotionally entangled with me. I always keep my emails short and sweet so that I don’t encourage it. here’s an example of one client who really makes the most of his fantasy. I actually hate getting emails from clients unless they’re to set up an appointment. It’s just really creepy.

“Hi Fille,
Just thinking of you - again - and wanted you to know that. I love it that you are nearby. It makes everything better. Thank you, Fille, for being you - for being so gorgeous, and for being such a perfect, sublime lover. You are truly one in a million.

Your email exchanges are hard to fathom sometimes. I sincerely do miss you and value our very special friendship, Sweetie. I’m going to miss you next week too, sadly (I don’t get back until late Tuesday). Maybe we just need to set a date when you get back, no matter how far away that is… it will give me something to look forward to.

Fille, my love goes with you and I hope your trip is safe, productive, and adventurous. I sure hope you’ll think of me, I’ll certainly be thinking of you.

Best Wishes, Darling…
xoxoxox,
J.”

So there in the beginning I met most of my clients at the hottubs. And never once did I get in the water. I became familiar with every hottub place in a 60 mile radius. The ones in Palo Alto were gorgeous, by the way. More of a spa than hottubs. Those might pass the water test. Bring your PH kit to be sure!

It’s strange thinking back all those years. But the cast of characters I’ve met during the time I’ve been escorting have been strange and wonderful. Mostly strange. And not in a good way. I was asked how I choose new clients. My current methods are very different from what they were in the beginning. I go by intelligence level really. And lack of creepiness over the phone. You’re a construction worker? Great. You’re a hard working man. But you’re not going to get your foot in the door. Oh, you’re a venture capitalist working mostly with tech? Give me a second while I roll out the red carpet. Since I’ve made it clear on my website that I don’t want to see any morbidly obese people I’ve cut back on those. In the beginning I wasn’t so great at screening out the strange ones.

I recall agreeing to meet one guy. It was to be at the Berkeley hottubs once again (it’s been years since I’ve been to the hottubs so this was still very early days) and I met this guy. Early 50s I’d say. Long black hair. Very “hard” looking. As in he’d smoked way too many packs of unfiltered camels and drank too much whiskey. Before adjourning to our chlorine infused chambers we shared a cool drink he told me he worked for Pixar (which I never believed for a millisecond was true) Couldn’t stop telling me how beautiful I was and how much he’d love to go out with a woman like me and would I date him and wouldn’t I please be his girlfriend. Of course I said no. While there was a component of fun for myself in doing this, I was not using this as a dating service.

As we left the hottubs he kept telling me how amazing I was and how much he wanted me to be his girlfriend. And I kept sweetly telling him no. A few days later I read a review he’d written about me. It turns out that he was a moderator (which meant he probably was the guy behind) this particular review site. I’ll never forget that he wrote how awful I was and gave me a very low rating. For the first and last time in my stint as an escort I posted a rebuttal and asked why if I was so terrible was he so keen to date me? The review mysteriously vanished. It’s been ages since I’ve even read my reviews and anybody with any sort of intelligence can see that most of the stuff they write is made up. I stood up to this monkey but many girls are afraid of ruining their ratings and so never defend themselves. For me the occasional vitriolic review from a creepy disgruntled client isn’t so bad because it’s diluted by my many good reviews.

I now know that the review sites reject reviews that aren’t “explicit” enough. So you end up with a bunch of Penthouse Letters parodies. It’s all a scam to get a bunch of horny guys who can’t make a decision on their own to cough up the monthly subscription fee. Suckers. I’ve also learned that there are some very elite escorts who have been “banned” from advertising on the review sites because they refused to have sex for free with the site owners. Guys, you think they’re doing this all for your welfare? Get a clue.

So back to creepy “pixar” guy. Among this very odd group of hobbyists there are those who run a racket to see if they can sleep with girls for free. I wonder if they communicate with each other and brag about it. There are many ways they accomplish this; by trying to tempt girls into being their girlfriend or by craftily getting out of paying for services. “Oh, I thought you took credit cards - look in my wallet. no cash” or giving you a thick wad of cash that is mostly ones or a white envelope that has a piece of paper in it and hustling you out the door before you have a chance to notice.

This has happened to me exactly three times in my career as an escort. In all three cases the guys were very rough with me and kept me much longer than the agreed time. It very much bordered on rape. I’m not trying to sell some sad story. I knew the risks I was taking and I made those choices. Nobody is responsible but myself. But. I’d like to find those guys, have someone hold them down and stab them in the eye with a fork. That would give me satisfaction. Maybe singe their testicles with a zippo. Needless to say these days I always request payment up front with new clients.

Fille x

So. I’d received a few emails from gentlemen interested in getting together. But there were two things I needed to make certain of:

1. I was not going to meet anybody who was unsavory
2. I was not going to give anybody any indication at all of where I lived

Obviously my personal safety was first and foremost. I needed to safeguard both my identity and my person. And being new to all of this I was perhaps overly cautious at the start. Of course it never pays to be too careful. Frankly I had no idea what I was getting myself into so I imagined all the worst case scenarios and then made sure my actions precluded any disasters.

I decided that the way to minimize my risk of meeting anyone who was completely repulsive was to ask the guys who contacted me to send me their photos. At the time my standards were pretty high. Not too old, not too fat, not too ugly. No mustaches! A surprising number of guys did send their photos in those early days. Of course I promised to keep any information I had about them absolutely sacred. And I did. After all, I expected the same in return.

Now, what about location? I had done some research online and realized that my options were limited. Since it wasn’t going to happen at my place and I wasn’t going to anybody’s residence, the guy needed to get a hotel room or as I’d read someplace online, he could go for the less expensive option - the hottubs.

Do you remember when going to the hottubs was considered a fun thing to do with friends or a romantic/sexy thing to do on a date? Know this now: Never go to the hottubs again!

I chose my very first client, a married chinese guy who was in the garment business. At the time I was considering starting up a surfing inspired clothing line so we had a lot to chat about on the phone. We agreed to meet at a cafe outside the Berkeley hottubs. I packed an assortment of condoms into my handbag and crossed the bay bridge to Berkeley. I found the cafe and ordered a soda as I waited.

It wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to say I was nervous. But he was so great on the phone and sounded so lovely and normal that I wasn’t uncomfortable. If I remember correctly I was wearing a sort of turqoise top with a deep V neck and a brown pencil skirt and brown strappy leather sandals. Certainly nothing that would be construed as overtly sexy. The one thing I did not want to do was draw any unnecessary attention to myself.

When he arrived I knew him instantly. I have to tell you I was so lucky to have had him for my first client. He was personable and handsome and in great shape. And obviously attracted to me. It could have gone any number of different directions. The gods were smiling down on me, that’s certain.

I waited for him to get a private room in the hottubs place and then he called me with the room number. If I wanted to I could back down now but why the hell should I?

I’d never actually been to hottubs before. When I entered the room, that was maybe 10 by 10 feet, there he was waiting for me. I asked if we could take care of business first, which we did. Nothing trumps cash money. It was all so simple. We kissed. We explored. I sucked his smallish but hard cock. We had sex on the mattress/bench. As is the case with so many of the men I’ve seen he was a bit too rough but with a little guidance we sorted that out. Afterwards, which is also the case with many of the men I’ve seen, he was very affectionate toward me. It was nice. He told me I was sexy and terrific, etc., etc. and to expect another call from him soon.

Our time was soon up so we got dressed and I left the room first. Walked back to my car. Started the engine. And I thought “that was like falling off a log”.

Fille x