The phenomenon of “regulars” is one of the stranger parts of more lascivious lines of work. On one obvious level, regulars are ideal. They keep you flush with cash, you know what to expect, and you don’t have to be afraid of getting arrested. On the other hand, you can’t choose your regulars, and if there is some mathemagical formula that keeps a client coming back again and again I’ve yet to ascertain it. My regulars weren’t usually the guys I felt the most sexual chemistry with or the ones I liked the most. I did get a lot of blowjob fetishists due to my now thoroughly mentioned expertise, but for the most part they seemed as random as a game of naked Keno.
And the relationship you develop with a regular is a nebulous one. In a way you “know” this person. After six months of meeting someone weekly for sex, an intimacy is bound to develop, and while some of my regulars wanted me to come in, do my job, and go, others knew quite a bit about me and my life. They might ask me about a paper I was working on, or when I was heading home for Christmas, and somewhere in between the chit-chat and the hanky-panky we would begin to feel like friends.
But the truth is that when I was on the job, even with guys I liked, even when I was talking about the paper I was working on, I was always dancing around the big lie: that I would be in their apartment for any other reason than the money they were paying me to be there. I projected an image that was me but not-quite-me. I could never be truly myself, because a real flesh-and-blood woman wasn’t what they wanted. They were paying for a fantasy, and, well, you can’t be friends with a fantasy.
Except that R. and I seemed to be becoming friends.
As previously mentioned, the sex was outstanding. When we rolled around on the motel bed, the muffled moans coming through the walls, the outside world, even the god-knows-what the mattress was probably infested with melted away and we just FUCKED. Someone could probably have broken in and stolen everything in the room but the bed and it wouldn’t have stopped me from grabbing his ass and pulling him deeper inside of me. He knew just how to handle me- a little rough as he squeezed and pinched my nipples, holding my arms down as he parted my legs, whispering “Eat my cum” as he pushed my head down into his crotch. Once he brought along a paddle that he used on my ass to such great effect that the experience quickly entered the top 5 sexual experiences of my life.
But the real anomaly was the time we spent with our clothes on, smoking a joint in the darkened room and trading the intimate details of our lives a thin wall away from regular city street noise. Our time together felt sort of glam and scummy in an old New York way, which we both appreciated, as we did kitsch unearthed at flea markets and thrift stores, outsider culture, losers and weirdoes. It has been my experience that there truly, really are only two kinds of people in this world: those who take pleasure in the bizarre and those who don’t. Like me, R. was a freak lover. It was this aspect of his personality, I think, that let him see me for more than just a hooker. Sex workers, like carnies, junkies, transvestites, swingers, punks, and perverts…well, we were his people. I could tell that his respect for me was genuine, no matter what I did for a living.
And I respected him just as much, no matter that he was paying me to.
Still, when R. stopped calling, it took me awhile to realize it. He was just a client, after all, a man I spent about two hours a week with. And once I did realize it, there wasn’t much I could do. Repeat business is at the client’s discretion; if a regular stopped scheduling appointments, I couldn’t exactly call him up demanding an explanation. Always, in the back of my mind, I knew that no matter how friendly I was with a regular customer, our relationship had a time stamp on it. Eventually my pussy would become as boring to them as their wives’ and girlfriends’ and they’d move on. Still, months later, I sent R. an email on a whim.
Now whatever happened to you? Did you settle down with a nice girl and swear off naughty ones? Or does one really eventually tire of ceaseless orgasmic pleasure? Maybe you've moved on down the sex worker buffet (admit it, I'm prime rib and the others are bologna).
I kinda miss you these days!
xoxo
CCG
Waiting for his response I realized that despite the illusion of closeness that shrouded the seedy glamour of our paid fucks in the St. Marks Hotel, I really didn’t know anything about R. Not his background, his marital status, what he did in his free time. Sure, we had swapped intimacies and bodily fluids for months, but where had he gone to college? What was the name of his best friend? What did he watch on television on Thursday nights? Away from our hotel hideaway, we didn’t look much like friends at all.
Then I received his reply.
I'll never give up the naughty ones.
And you are indeed grade A Prime Rib.
My absence is due to a family situation: My mom 's been very, very sick for the last 2 months, could be near the end. Not much time or energy for myself as of late.
But I do miss our time spent during the heroin hotel short stays. And your adorable mug.
So - I should find some time soon - I will work on it (not that this helps you pay the bills, but it's a really weird time in my life). Talk soon.
xoxoxo,
-R
I quickly wrote back.
Don't worry, I wasn't trying to con you out of any money. Just missed your company and was wondering about you so I thought I'd check in.
Sorry to hear about your mom. Hope you're keeping some mental space for yourself and that things improve soon. I know our situation isn't your typical one, but I consider you a friend.
xoxo
CCG
And just as quickly, he responded.
You are such a sweetheart - I knew there was a reason
I liked you so much. It's your southern soul.
Really, thanks for the kind words - I miss your
company, as well as your therapy. And I consider you a
friend beyond our business stuff - "typical" can go
fuck itself anyway.
Talk soon.
xoxox
-R
And, just like that, somewhere between the hanky-panky and the chit-chat, we were friends.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
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59 comments:
What a great story. Though it has been said before, you do have a gift. Thanks for sharing these little chestnuts of yourself.
Friendships sometimes sprout from the least likely of places. Did you continue to speak with R after his mother's illness?
i love it. and just in time for the holidays, too!
I agree. This is literary. Add my thanks to you for sharing it.
Okay, you don't have to say what happened, but can you at least tell us if there's going to be a part 3?
Yes, definitely a part 3, maybe a part 4. :)
It's really encouraging to know that some men can look and see and appreciate the you beyond the fantasy.
It's a lovely story and I'm as eager as everyone else for Part 3.
This actually made me wonder about your non-professional sex life. I totally get how the regulars could merge into friendship but what about your personal regulars -- the ones that don't involve money but people with whom you just like sleeping. Are you sexually satisfied from your customers and therefore don't spend much time at Barnone?
Have you considered if this interferes with your non-professional relationships? I've read every post but I can't recall off the top of my head if you've discussed this before.
You mentioned in the first post how you didn't want to have sex with him without the money. Do you have nearly as much sex for free? One thing which came to mind is that by taking care of your sex drive this way -- no strings attached to the max -- that you no longer would need to bother with booty calls or whatever purely sexual relationships we regular mortals occasionally cultivate. I can't help but wonder if this way it's actually easier. So often I know people who get into just-for-sex relationships but they can't maintain them. Someone always gets hurt. Your version has a barrier that ensures you almost never will. Combine that with the pay and I think you might have found a perfect medium.
I've never been with a hooker, so all of this is hypothetical. I don't find prostitution "wrong" in any kind of absolute moral sense, but I reserve sex as something special with someone I have a connection with (maybe just a short connection, but still a connection), so I doubt I ever will be with a hooker.
If you had a mechanic you liked, there would be nothing odd about becoming friends with them. Hang out, then pay them to fix your car. Same thing with your plumber, lawn boy, web designer, lawyer, or anything else.
What makes your situation unique, is that you are getting paid for the social interaction. Sometimes social is sexual, and sometimes its talking, but both are social.
so that makes it tough. Once you make friends with your mechanic, he might help you with your car on the weekend for free/fun. But if it became a regular thing, that would put a strain on the friendship.
In your situation, the just hanging out (or putting out), automatically is putting a strain, because that is in fact your service.
If you hang out and maybe hook up once as friends, does that mean all future interactions are now friendly? How do you decide which are for pay, and which are for play?
I'd be interested in hearing more about how you deal with this situation.
I couldn't imagine, having never been in your line of work, whether truly becoming friends with your clientele would make it more or less easy to go in, do your duty and leave. I can only relate from my experiences in basic training. When all the women in my bay first met we had no fears about getting completely undressed and showering together, however, when a friend of ours from another bay had joined us several months later it all of a sudden became uncomfortable to be naked with her. Given the circumstances it shouldn't have mattered either way but for some reason it was more comfortable to be around strangers than friends.
Hey CCC,
I've been lurking for a while, and on my last trips to NYC I considered trying to find you and look you up, but I got too busy.
I have been seeing girls for the past couple years. Almost a year ago exactly I met a gal (formally from your town) and we have become...I don't know exactly.
After our first session I couldn't shake the feeling that I knew her from somewhere else. I - being a pretty good internet snoop, and her being pretty open about her lifestyle thereby leaving a fairly substantial internet trail - found out that we had indeed met when we were both kids. Not only that, she was my very first crush, and the girl I would go on to compare all others too.
Now a year later we are pretty well entrenched in each others lives. She tells me about all the neurosis of her clients and I tell her about all the minutia of my day. She helps me communicate with my wife when I have trouble speaking "crazy" and I help her with her outside of the bedroom ventures. I went through the whole "I'm in love with you and leaving my wife" thing, but didn't because ultimately that's not what we're about. We've worked together on projects out of the bedroom, she's met some of my friends, I've met hers. We have a public history in place for questions, and a private meeting once a week for us. The hour slips into 3 or 4 usually. Unlike you, the sex while very good, is not the best either of us have ever had, but she's admitted as I have, the afterglow is unlike anything either one of us has ever had.
So, is this good, or bad? I have no idea. I know I'm playing with fire and it could blow up in my face at any time. I also know that she is now one of my best friends who I love dearly and would walk through fire for.
I think it's okay to be friends with your clients as long as that client can handle it. I know you girls often have that stalker problem...I guess it comes with the territory.
Please tell me you're not falling for the old "dead mother" bit.
That said, I'm afraid parts 3 & 4 are gonna be "Crushville" for our favorite.
I'm sorry if this has already been asked and it kind of doesn't relate to this entry, though it was a great one.
I was just wondering, and it's been bothering me for a while, but do your clients know that you're College Call Girl? Do you sign things like, CCG and what not? I'm assuming not, but even so, do you use a fake name or handle?
megan:
Nope, I just replace my real name with "CCG" when writing on the blog. I never bothered to give them a different one. I also change all the clients' names.
That was beautiful, and I hope Luigi is wrong, wrong, wrong when it comes to part three and four. Everybody deserves friendship.
that's such a great, poignant story. sometimes you get attached to people, and they to you before you even realize it. it takes their dissapearance before we even notice it.
definitely keep us updated!
Every time I read one of your blogs, I am so impressed by how well you write! Keep it up; you have an amazing talent and always inspire me.
And on the subject of this blog, its so true that one can meet a "kindred spirit" (so Anne of Green Gables to say that...) in the most unlikely of places and situations, and when you least expect. And you don't have to know much about a person when you truly connect with someone, because the connection happens kind of magically / naturally.... then you get to know those little bits and pieces about them. Looking forward to your next blog!
This might show the difference between Luigi and me, but I get the feeling that parts 3 & 4 go in the exact opposite direction than he predicts. I personally can't wait to read about adventures in hooking with a ring on your finger.
That's how I met my current partner and I ended up leaving the business (for now). He was an incredible lay and a generous, kind guy, who I never ran out of conversation with. After months of putting on that act that escorts are paid to do, we realized we actually dug each other (and he still makes sure I can pay my bills). It's rare to find a friend in the business, I'm so glad you seem to have. I appreciate you sharing your story and I'm glad to see you back from holiday. Cheers!
People are people. No one goes to their job specifically to meet a friend, a lover, a partner, a spouse or a soul mate.
It's the fact that it does happen from time to time that makes everyone want to know who the new girl in accounting is, or the new guy at the loading dock.
It makes going in on Monday bearable. The Geek met The Fellatio Artist doing the worlds second oldest profession. (We were both bill collectors.) There among the acrimony of dealing with deadbeats and arrogant bill collectors we fell for each other. No one that knew either of us (and most knew both of us) would ever have predicted we would be a good fit. Especially 17 years later. A socially underdeveloped virgin with a quick mind and a sense of humor and a fun loving, carefree, second generation but amateur Fellatio Artist.
Her mother(and no you would never ever guess if you met her) was engaged in the worlds oldest profession. She worked off of personal ads, and for a period in parlors. She managed to raise a daughter who is kinky and fun, moral and not jaded. Curiously innocent despite her open mindedness. One of many lessons and stories she taught her daughter about as she puts it "Men and their CAWWKS" was that she dreaded most the clients that fell in love with her. The difficulty being that the men become emotionally invested along with their cash, but for her it was job. Some she did come to see as boyfriends and it seemed to help her feel like they were dates with financial benefits. She never, though could allow herself to date without accepting something in return. Maybe professional pride or an unwillingness to feel vulnerable. Once the quid pro quo from a lawyer friend was a grocery delivery. When times were tight he really seemed to have her and her small families interest at heart.
We think it is healthy to at least feel a bond like that, obviously it cant be the norm. No hooker, even one with a heart of gold, can afford to actually marry a John.
Great post. I think its the very story that people who don't yet appreciate your brilliant prose, come to a hooker blog hoping to hear. ~smile~
Love it! I've only got 1 regular, and bless his heart, he really tries to be my friend, but it feels forced for me. It's nice to see it can actually happen.
I can't wait to hear about part 3.
I'm sorry, I got kind of bored half way through. You were just describing life and relationships and you found this one in a different way. But as long as you like it, what the hell difference does it make?
seriously - i am eagerly awaiting your book, ccg.
Make sure you keep us posted on you "friend", so we can understand your relationship with him too.But I would be very careful too. You might want to watch HOW MUCH you tell people, sometimes things can come back and bite you on the butt so hard,you wished you didn't share your life experiences with anyone.
I often wondered, if you got close to any of your clients,and "how close" could you get. A job is a job...but...it's hard to separate yourself,when you exchange bodily fluids,or orgasms or whatever they want.
I look at it this way,in my work, I hardly ever open up conversations about my personal life too much anymore.I got burned enough from people who were simply screwed up people that felt like stepping on my face,and getting me fired from jobs. I don't know how they did it,but they did it.
I myself,am a weirdo! I prefer the oddest people,and like their company too,and the types that people would often not like; artists,musicians,drug addicted people,hookers,
street hustlers, mental cases,the people who are slightly crazy and daring,the ones who talk to themselves a lot. I also liked people who were socially retarded....I don't know, they seem more real to me,than the people sitting in my office,right next to me who were suburban yuppies. I know they have a soul too, but I'm not so sure anymore. You,and me,we'd probably get along really well. I tend to like people from the other side of the tracks.
The "bad" people. They're more fun!
Thanks for that Getting Crushed article. Be careful with your heart!
Is it odd that I found that story strangely touching? That story gave me the warm fuzzies (and a desire to find myself a paddle...)
totally sweet. now let's hear about that paddle session!
You're lucky. The only regulars I've had who wanted to be friends just got on my nerves because all they really wanted was freebies: http://www.emiliedice.com/compartments/?p=37
I hope Parts 3/4 do not turn out to be about how he played the angle of friends to turn into a relationship, and thus thought it was Freebie Time.
I'm with the above anonymous. I found this post rather touching. It sounds like the situation is complicated, but than again, what situation isn't in its own way?
Friends come in all shapes, forms and sizes, but they all mean the same.
awwwww... this was a real sweet blogpost... kinda moist in the eyes here now... (not being sarcastic, I really mean it... not so easy to know with text only, therefore this lengthy explanation:)
Thomas
/Norway
AWWWW!!!!!
we're all freak lovers here!
great story, CCG.
Good read....thanks for a glimpse inside the seedy motel.
Friends? What is the nature of your friendship with R? Sounds to me like he executed a perfect callgirl game plan. Did he just find himself a BFF? After he realized that you have developed some feelings for him over time, he stopped calling you, probably betting that you will want to contact him. You played right into his hand. His excuse given to you was his mother being sick, probably for the purpose of drumming some feelings of competition from within you. Ask him about his mother now, I bet she is fine. You don't know anything about him, but he knows a few things about you, does he? Sounds like he is playing the mystery man here. You guys talk (for an hour?) before you fuck, is he being sensitive to a hooker?
The guy is pretty smart.
What is so inspiring about your writing in general, and this story in particular, is your sense of hope. What makes your writing so effective is the honesty, intelligence, charm and wit that gives that hope a voice. To read that someone doing what many consider to be amongst the most degrading work is able to maintain the hope of finding a trusting and caring relationship is truly inspiring. In this, or another relationship, I hope you find what you are looking for.
This is the work of a Master (Mistress?) writer.... This made me stop completely in my tracks..... when you're out of college - look out world!
: )
And when can we expect part 3?
What an awesome read. Thanks!
i'm on to you. you and R. are already married with 3.2 kids livin' in the 'burbs, and this whole college callgirl thing happened, like, years ago!
either way, can't wait to hear how the story plays out. ;-) xoxoxo
Honest to god, that brought a little tear to my eye. I thought that was just a hackneyed cliche until now.
When I saw the title I thought it was going to be about being crushed by some fat guy LOL.
That would be an interesting blog entry though, any 'unusual' customers of this sort?
This story warmed my cold, cold heart. Thanks for sharing it. <3
Hey CCG,
I've been lurking for a while. But the post about the guy whose mom was ill -- wow. It's so funny how actual "relationships" can mean nothing, but more complex "situations" can come chock full of the stuff people write poems and songs about. That was just fine writing. Please keep doing this thing that you do.
Can't wait for part 3!
Yawn yawn, fucking yawn. Another tedious slag writing her pathetic cum-stained memoirs. I think I read a story in Belle de Jour which was exactly the same as this. Or was it Diary of a Manhattan Call Girl? Who knows or cares, you're not cheap because you sell sex. You're cheap because you jumped on a tired old bandwagon.
For mankind's sake, shut your legs and shut your cakehole. You're boring. Man, I hope you're not this dull and unoriginal in the sack!
girl that gave me goosebumps! and the hotel is so andy-warhol-think-rich-look-poor. ny. love it.
Just want to tell you I love your blog and read as often as possible. keep up the good work!
I can't wait for Part 3 cause you're pretty fucking amazing, despite what whiny little assholes say behind the comfort of a Computer screen. I usually hate peoples blogs (lots of omg poor me god hates me omg i got new shoes) but I love how you've insane depth. I've been reading this sense I saw it on Rolling Stone (whatevs, I am totally okay with admitting I am a pathetic loser!) and I've been an avid reader sense. yooou my girl!!
Another tedious slag writing her pathetic cum-stained memoirs.
For your sake, I hope you are female, so you aren't encumbered with a penis you've demonstrated you hate.
fuck the anon guy above calling CCG an unoriginal slag. you're lack of taste and judgment is rivaled only by your incomprehensible rudeness.
This is so sweet - I'm gonna call my best friend right now and have her read this...(sniff)...
This is, by far, the best post of your blog.
Hats off!
Is it wrong that this story is heartwarming?
Absolutely wonderful CCG!!
You are such a dream.
I've always known that. This bit of real nakedness just even more confirmed it for me.
Actually, I've been missing you. It was a link from Michael Blowhard that brought me back to you today. (For some reason I seem to have it in my head that I really need to catch back up on all I've missed when I revist a favorite sex blogger I've been too busy to read recently. Stupid, I guess - the best being the enemy of the good, and all that.)
Anyway, xoxo.
(Presumptious of me I guess from one point of view, but my feelings are warm, so what the hell...)
That's just beautiful, all the way through.
I'll never give up the naughty ones.
And you are indeed grade A Prime Rib
As sexy as that sounds, I'm pretty sure he just called you a piece of meat. But a good piece of meat...
"lookin for love in all the wrong places" hah funny how shit works out huh?
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