the virgin post that started it all
so i've gone and done it. i'm finally becoming a real live whore. not just a slut. not just a "sex worker" in the sense that i work, live and breath sex. i am now offering sexual services for moolah. or at least i'm trying to. we'll get to that in a second.
first off, why, might you ask, would a smart young sexy educated thing like yourself with a decent job that provides health insurance and a business card consider crossing over to the dark side? well, in a word, tuition. it went up. big time. and sucks my left tit (which everyone who at one time sucked my tits knows is the more sensitive of the two). plus, i've done an impressive amount of research on the subject. we all know knowledge leads to corruption. my mother should know by now. i wrote papers on teen suicide when i was suicidal. i took sexual orientation and its controversies when i wanted to come out. i researched and wrote on the power dynamics and identity politics of the contemporary manhattan call-based escort service utilizing first person narratives as a primary source, and now i'm becoming a whore. it just makes sense. plus, i'm a feminist, so i can do whatever i damn well want with my body, including sell it. don't you just love it when politics work in your favor?
so i've posted ads. not going hardcore yet. started slow. offering to escort guys to swing parties and strip clubs, fetish and sex stores. figure i might as well continue to educate. i've also started a hugging service. for a price (if you're interested, email me and i'll give you a fee sheet) i'll hug/hold a guy (or woman for that matter, come on girls, you know you want it!) for an hour. s/he can bitch and complain, cry, ramble, sleep, whatever. i'm cheaper than a therapist who won't bother to touch you and i'll even take my clothes off (for an increased rate, of course). i think i will be providing a valuable resource to the community. making the world a better place. i equate this with my earlier independent community service work introducing "straight" boys to the joys of prostate, only this time i'm getting paid.
i have enjoyed an overwhelming response to my postings. i've set up seven dates and have a few more in the works. things are looking good. but then i actually try to start going on these dates and it gets a little sticky.
the first guy was looking for a potential long term arrangement, once or twice a week, going to a new place each time, $150 to $300 depending on the event, physical involvement, time, etc. sounds good. i meet with him in a bar to discuss details and make sure we're compatible. after listen to him drone on for an hour about the joys of managing hedge funds, we get around to expectations. "so, what are you expecting?" "well, i was hoping we could go back to my place, get naked, and jerk off together for $120." excuse me?!?! had already been over various boundaries via email including that i do NOT go to apartments and there is a $150 minimum which is for short adventures fully clothed with limited physical contact. so i say that's not going to work. "well, i am going to go and wait outside for five minutes. i will most likely be waiting alone but if you should happen to change your mind, i welcome your company." weirdo. so i sit at the bar. finish my wine watching the yankee game and the clock. seven minutes go by. i gather my things, tip the lovely bartender and head out. he's still waiting. i say, "dear, it's been eight minutes. have a nice night." and get on the train to go home. frustrated but proud to have upheld my personal business ethics, etc.
then, yesterday i had a date with a gentleman who wanted to take me shopping for stockings, buy himself a pair of high heels, take me for a pedicure, and then worship my feet while i belittled his cock size. fun stuff, right? and a generous tribute. we confirm on saturday and he says we can talk on sunday, the day of the date, to set up an exact time. sunday, we play phone tag briefly, but eventually get ahold of each other and settle location and tribute. he says he'll call back as he has to check something in regards to time. then he just doesn't call back. i get an email today saying he chickened out and he's sorry for wasting my time. that's fine. i understand. but you could have called, jerk.
then i guy tried to set up a date for today, which was inconvenient as i was in classes all day and only had limited comp access. so i give him my number, tell him to leave a message, and i'll get back to him after class. no call. this time, i'm not nearly as surprised. anyways, darlings. i have a potential set up for tomorrow. we'll see how and if it actually goes.
hallmark really should make "congratulations, you're a whore" cards. i know i want one.
take care and have a lovely, pleasure-filled evening.
first off, why, might you ask, would a smart young sexy educated thing like yourself with a decent job that provides health insurance and a business card consider crossing over to the dark side? well, in a word, tuition. it went up. big time. and sucks my left tit (which everyone who at one time sucked my tits knows is the more sensitive of the two). plus, i've done an impressive amount of research on the subject. we all know knowledge leads to corruption. my mother should know by now. i wrote papers on teen suicide when i was suicidal. i took sexual orientation and its controversies when i wanted to come out. i researched and wrote on the power dynamics and identity politics of the contemporary manhattan call-based escort service utilizing first person narratives as a primary source, and now i'm becoming a whore. it just makes sense. plus, i'm a feminist, so i can do whatever i damn well want with my body, including sell it. don't you just love it when politics work in your favor?
so i've posted ads. not going hardcore yet. started slow. offering to escort guys to swing parties and strip clubs, fetish and sex stores. figure i might as well continue to educate. i've also started a hugging service. for a price (if you're interested, email me and i'll give you a fee sheet) i'll hug/hold a guy (or woman for that matter, come on girls, you know you want it!) for an hour. s/he can bitch and complain, cry, ramble, sleep, whatever. i'm cheaper than a therapist who won't bother to touch you and i'll even take my clothes off (for an increased rate, of course). i think i will be providing a valuable resource to the community. making the world a better place. i equate this with my earlier independent community service work introducing "straight" boys to the joys of prostate, only this time i'm getting paid.
i have enjoyed an overwhelming response to my postings. i've set up seven dates and have a few more in the works. things are looking good. but then i actually try to start going on these dates and it gets a little sticky.
the first guy was looking for a potential long term arrangement, once or twice a week, going to a new place each time, $150 to $300 depending on the event, physical involvement, time, etc. sounds good. i meet with him in a bar to discuss details and make sure we're compatible. after listen to him drone on for an hour about the joys of managing hedge funds, we get around to expectations. "so, what are you expecting?" "well, i was hoping we could go back to my place, get naked, and jerk off together for $120." excuse me?!?! had already been over various boundaries via email including that i do NOT go to apartments and there is a $150 minimum which is for short adventures fully clothed with limited physical contact. so i say that's not going to work. "well, i am going to go and wait outside for five minutes. i will most likely be waiting alone but if you should happen to change your mind, i welcome your company." weirdo. so i sit at the bar. finish my wine watching the yankee game and the clock. seven minutes go by. i gather my things, tip the lovely bartender and head out. he's still waiting. i say, "dear, it's been eight minutes. have a nice night." and get on the train to go home. frustrated but proud to have upheld my personal business ethics, etc.
then, yesterday i had a date with a gentleman who wanted to take me shopping for stockings, buy himself a pair of high heels, take me for a pedicure, and then worship my feet while i belittled his cock size. fun stuff, right? and a generous tribute. we confirm on saturday and he says we can talk on sunday, the day of the date, to set up an exact time. sunday, we play phone tag briefly, but eventually get ahold of each other and settle location and tribute. he says he'll call back as he has to check something in regards to time. then he just doesn't call back. i get an email today saying he chickened out and he's sorry for wasting my time. that's fine. i understand. but you could have called, jerk.
then i guy tried to set up a date for today, which was inconvenient as i was in classes all day and only had limited comp access. so i give him my number, tell him to leave a message, and i'll get back to him after class. no call. this time, i'm not nearly as surprised. anyways, darlings. i have a potential set up for tomorrow. we'll see how and if it actually goes.
hallmark really should make "congratulations, you're a whore" cards. i know i want one.
take care and have a lovely, pleasure-filled evening.
posted by Jane Vincent at 10:48 PM
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