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A Courtesan: The Allure of Scent

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Indeed it is the 5 senses (touch, taste, smell, hear and see) along with mental stimulation that makes great intimacy and love. In the sex industry satisfying all of these qualities is possible but rare. In most cases, clients seek to stimulate one or multiple of their senses. One sense that many clients desire for sexual arousal is: satisfying their ‘scent’ sense. Artificial fragrances, such as perfumes, are only one part of the scent desire, but natural scents are what heighten arousal. One of the first things most clients do when we meet is embrace me in a hug, which instantly they detect my fragrance and natural scent.  This is usually followed by them starting to kiss and lick my body, from my neck, lips and breasts. Then gradually, they will taste their way around the meanders of my body. The common pattern is kissing and tasting her body, from her neck to her breasts or between her legs. For some, scent by-way-of-tasting is secondary to sexual penetration. For others, scent is the main feature of a sexual encounter.

Some men have a desire for scent that goes beyond the convention; it’s essential to their arousal. Often, they exceptionally desire the ‘taboo’ areas. The ‘taboo’ areas could be the feet, the underarms, the anus and buttocks, etc. Of course, they are only ‘taboo’ in the sense that they are unrecognized/unacknowledged in popular discourse on sexuality. If anything, the ‘taboo’ areas are extremely erogenous areas that can bring great pleasure. Sadly, a lot of people feel embarrassed about their ‘unconventional’ desires. For some men, it’s often easier to express these desires with a prostitute rather than their own wives or partners.

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The other day, I was laying on stomach on bed, completely relaxed. A married client of mine was kissing my legs, working down to my feet. He started kissing my feet and then said, “There is a lot of sex at the feet.” After, he proceeded to lick between my toes. Before he feasted on other regions of my body, he would stop for a brief moment to inhale my scent. He would inhale it as if it had an intoxicating effect, and then he would dive in and taste. He made sure to put extra attention in all the taboo areas, which excited me past my tipping point. Experiences like these compel me to ponder: but why? For some, it is the allure of social stigma, the ‘taboo,’ which drives their excitement; it’s this idea of being in a subordinate position. For others, it is more biological where the scent, alone, triggers sexual gratification.

The most memorable ‘scent’ client I had was a young 19 year boy I met while I was working overseas for a short trip. I worked at small high-end brothel establishment for a brief few weeks. I met him on my first day, and then he insisted to book my entire shift whenever I worked. Our last encounter was an 8 hour booking, which he enthusiastically paid for each portioned hour. What makes him memorable is that we never had sex. I saw him numerous times until the end of my holiday, and each time his main desire was two things: my companionship and my ‘taboo’ areas. Most ‘scent’ driven men usually want intercourse alongside licking and tasting, but this particular client was different. He was completely satisfied with kissing and licking my hands, feet, between my legs and my buttocks. I would lay on my tummy, and could simply relax while his face was between the cheeks of my posterior. At the same time, he was also impeccably respectful and he always asked permission first. His desire puzzled me back then, but now I understand his attraction to scents.

In my own preferences, scent is one of the essential components of sexual chemistry. Scent is what ignites my desire to reciprocate. Scent has a lasting affect, which makes me long for it after wards. However, in terms of clients I seldom desire to indulge in their scents. Rather, my scent desire is reserved for someone I love. Scent is beyond just perfumes or ointments, but rather it’s the addition of natural scent that is unique to each individual. It cannot be simply mimicked by artificial means, because the natural scent of another person is part of the phenomena of sexual chemistry.

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The Courtesan: Preparing for a Client in Vain..

preparing-in-vainI step out of the shower, and lotion my body to make it silky soft and soothe. I silken my hair. I apply my makeup with a racy, provocative touch.

I press red lipstick against my soft lips and decorate my eyes with dark liner. For a second, I imagine you are staring at me in all my vanity. How I know it will arouse you to see me so delicate and so alluring. Not only do I look as if saturated in lust, but my scent is just as daring, my demeanor is even more risqué. Its all yours, I say to myself.

Then I squeeze my generous portions of breasts into a silk and lace bra…a bra too small for my voluptuous breasts. How inviting they are…and how I long for you too see me in such a spectacular sight. Finally, I slip on a matching panty over hips that were made to be grasped by loving hands.

I caress my breasts and close my eyes. I caress myself by imitating all the ways you once touched me. I am taken back to a vision when your hands lovingly grabbed a hold of my soft flesh….and how they were placed onto the warmth of your mouth. My scent is dripping in allure, and how I long for you to taste me.

I’ve prepared my body for a client…drenched in my sensual ritual. My body is ready to arouse, to evoke admiration. I anticipate how a strange man will feast his eyes on my womanly body, along with my reddened lips and eyes. He will be mesmerized by my smile, and he will feast on my enticing curves. But my dearest, I wish it wasn’t some strange man who is granted such pleasures — I wish it was you.

bustyNow he see’s me and compliments my vain efforts. Slowly everything comes off, all my attire. The only thing that remains is the erotic nature of my face, and a very exposed body. Instead of you, it is a strange mans mouth who explores and tastes my body. When he parts my legs, how I long for you to be in his place. So I close my eyes, and imagine that your soft lips are touching my skin.

He is so aroused, and yet I only long to see your arousal. I have no desire to tease him with my ornaments like I did with you, nor show him my erotic capabilities ..no, I reserve them all for you. Yet still I pretend..I pretend as if your touch is what I feel. Take my body and immerse yourself in me. He is left fulfilled and satisfied, while my insatiable desire is left longing…….yearning.

The job is done. I remove the facade one by one, and slip back into normal attire. I put back the jewelry, and fine lingeries. I look at them closely and recite a line I once heard: “What are these pearls for ….if they are valued by no one?”

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Update

Hi All,

Sorry I haven’t posted in a long time! I will be writing again very soon. I also apologize for my delay in answering comments and emails. I will be in touch soon.

Sincerely,
Exotic Escort Diary

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Update

Some of you may have noticed that I have made my blog private for the past few months.  Of course, I am deeply private about my lifestyle. I have decided to be public again, but unfortunately I have removed many old posts that are too personal.

My reasonings are that I have changed my life a bit. Alhamdulillah I had a great holiday from my classes, and met many interesting people. I even did a social experiment of wearing abaya and niqab, and I must say it is such a liberating feeling.

As my counselor told me…I am filled with holes….and I need to fill this ‘emptyness’ with something that is wholesome, something that I own. Men, money, and material things do not fill my emptiness.

Again, my blog is about my life. I do not want to glamorize prostitution or escorting, because there is nothing glamorous about it. I got into it without realizing that the money is a serious addiction. What I can say is that I have no regrets, and am thankful for the blessings I have received.

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Conflicting Roles: Prostitute and Student

I am seeing a counselor now. We’ve had about three sessions so far. She is very understanding, and it feels relieving to talk to someone about virtually all aspects of my life. I trust her. I feel I can trust anyone who is educated about social issues, because rather than judge they look at people from a macro social perspective. In the past, I was almost tempted to tell one of my professors that I was a prostitute, because I knew she would not judge me (however, I did not tell her).

My counselor told me that a lot of my issues are stemming from my poor/absent relationship with my Father. She also said that my conflicting lifestyles are what led me to feel stressed and depressed. She said there were three me’s: (the escort, the REAL me and lastly, the “me” when I’m with friends and family who aren’t aware of my profession). She said she completely understands why I often feel, well, LOST. Essentially, I am a sexy escort at night (behind closed doors, of course) and in the daytime I am an ‘innocent’ University student. But who’s the real me? That is a question I don’t know how to answer.

I am not sure what I seek from her counseling services. For one, I am in no position to leave the industry anytime soon. Although the job can be stressful at times, at other times it isn’t. Lately I’ve really enjoyed working and seeing clients. I got over my burn-out and feel totally rejuvenated. My hormones are off the chains, and I find myself being extremely aroused these days. Unfortunately for me, my favorite clients are leaving next month for Ramadan (the Saudis). Two clients of mine have been driving me wild in comparison to the Sheik. I have now realized that it’s possible for a man to get better with his sexual skills and evolve. One of my younger Saudi clients/friend, Khalid, has began to impress me a lot….and consequently, I crave him more than I did before. But again, what is a life to be only wanted for sexual pleasure?

Besides them, I have come across another Saudi in his late-20′s who’s swept me off my feet. I must remind myself that’s it’s not worth it. Despite sharing a deep emotional attachment I must face the reality: it’s just temporary fun for them.

 

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Coping with stress..

I once heard a joke that said, “How can you leave your house without being high and not cry??” Indeed, being ‘numb’ makes life easier. However, I hate drugs. I am not really keen on alcohol (I almost never drink). But…I do have weaknesses: tea and cigarettes.

Unfortunately….I have started smoking, again. Thank goodness it’s not that severe (yet)..but I’m worried these “puffs” here and there will evolve to being a full-time smoker, again. I’m so angry at myself.

I had successfully quit for over two years, on the advice of my ex-fiancee. My smoking life was short-lived back then, as I only smoked full-time for just over one year.

I blame my smoking on my own stupidity, and my travels through Europe, particularly the Eastern bloc, a few years ago.

So why did I start again? Well, I can blame it on the Saudi boys. I would say 98 percent of the Saudi students I’ve encounter are smokers, mostly chain-smokers.

I really do not want to pollute my lungs, yet the addiction is consuming me. This week I have my final exams for uni…so I’m turning to large amounts of tea and cigarettes for comfort (I would try orgasms, but they distract me from my studying).

I’m hoping I will kick this unhealthy habit by the weeks end. So smoking is quite icky in my view (for myself, that is).

My other addiction, which is only harmful for my mental state, is my mobile phone and laptop! I swear, my life was much better when I didn’t have people sms (texting) or emailing me at all hours of the day. Like the smoking, I’m hoping to cut out (or downsize) various technology from my life.

I can’t help but thinking of myself ending up like Samia Gamal’s character in “A Glass and a Cigarette.” It’s a very old Egyptian film starring the lovely Samia Gamal as a belly dancer (the equivalent to being a stripper among Egyptian society during that time) who’s life goes turmoil with her bad habits.

Anyway, I have to get back to studying. However, I have much to write about. I have been thinking of the Saudi male mentality and their ‘heavily disguised’ self-serving attitude towards their non-Saudi girlfriends….(more to come)..

*Oh and I want to touch bases one day on khaleeji’s and their frequent trips to neighbouring countries (Bahrain, UAE, Kuwait, Syria, Morocco) for the purpose of having sex with girls (mostly prostitutes).

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Loving a man who can’t promise me the world…….

So…I tried to end things with him (the Sheik, my Saudi client/lover) yesterday, for the second time. First I said we need to talk, and over the phone I explained to him why its better for us to separate now. But of course, it didn’t work. He loves me and I love him, which is our problem.

Instead, he rushed over to my apartment, because he said he needed to see me. We talked about “us”…but came to no conclusion. He said he can’t let me go, and how much he loves me. He playfully calls me his wife, and talks romantically about taking me back to SA. I hate it. It makes me angry…because it’s impossible. I was hoping he would give me comfort and talk about ‘a’ future together, but he didn’t.

He stayed over, and we woke up this morning together in loving embrace. I really don’t know what to do with him. We love each other, and there is no future for us. I ask myself what is the point of this relationship? He still pays me generously, but can money make up for the fact we have no future?

Ironically, the rest of the night was actually quite lovely with my Saudi love. We made love, and I felt at ease. I was so relaxed with him. I laid back and let him tease me until I felt ultimate pleasure. He ended up giving me the most intense pleasure as a result. I truly feel like we are just addicted to each other, even though we both know there is no future benefit.

After he left in the morning, my anger reemerged. Numerous questions floated in my mind. How can he really love me if he knows he can’t marry me? Doesn’t he think of how heart-broken I will be when he has to leave? Sometimes I am convinced that I’m just his foreign “Arab-like” whore, but then why is he is yearning to do everything that couples do?

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It’s out of my control..

I am in love. Yet I’m ill-prepared. My whole world is a mess….all because of these feelings. I wish I wasn’t in love, but I can’t control it. I fear the things that come along with it….I’m not ready.

My A-average will definitely take a plunge this semester…….because of this thing called love. I can’t concentrate on anything, but the moments…

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The Worst Feeling in the World..

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Escorting pays well, but it’s by far the loneliest lifestyle ever. I totally understand why most escorts, regardless how rich they are, turn to drugs, alcohol, and abusive, loser men. In my case, I was never interested in drugs or alcohol. In fact seeing so many beautiful girls turn into zombies within months was enough to scare me from taking drugs to cope with my problems. My ex became my outlet. As much as I hated him and tried pushing him away I was severely addicted to him (even when he hurt me)……..I will explain further in a bit.

I will never forget Tony’s words. Tony was a driver for escorts during my escorting ventures overseas. He was an old chap in his seventies, who had been driving girls to and from their clients for over a decade. The best part about him was that he was not sleazy at all, so most girls (including myself) felt at ease around him. When I started dating my client (my ex fiancée) I told Tony that I was in love! His first words were: “Be careful. If I were you I would NOT get involved with a client. In time he will end up calling you a whore.”

Of course, I thought Tony had no idea what he was talking about, because MY boyfriend was different. He wasn’t any typical guy……….he was a seemingly pious man who didn’t go to clubs or drink alcohol. I thought my boyfriend was better because he was quiet, loving and nurturing. But Tony was right. Only a year later, my ex called me a whore in a heated argument. For the longest time I blamed myself and kept insisting that I provoked him to call me names or to slap me across the face (or to rip off my clothes and touch me sexually).

My ex was what is known as a ‘nice guy’ and it is only now that I realized that the whole ‘nice guy’ is just a front. He was willing to do everything for me. He cooked, cleaned, bought me anything I wanted, gave me the most intense orgasms every day of our relationship, seemed unselfish, and literally did whatever I wanted. Seems perfect right? Then why was I so unhappy? I started to realize that maybe he was deeply insecure. I mean, why did he want to commit so fast? Why did he always ‘come’ inside me despite I told him to pull out? He wanted to get me pregnant. He wanted to keep me. He wanted to make sure I was always pleased. I thought he was the perfect man…until after a year I started to realize the price.

Sex was amazing between us. Being a working girl is a very strange thing because having so much sex does a strange thing to me (and other girls I’ve talk too): It makes us want sex all the time. My ex and I had sex all the time, and he was one lucky guy knowing that I wanted it. After a year, sex started to get tiring all the time…so I wasn’t always interested (yet we still did it basically everyday). His sex drive never diminished. Even if we didn’t have sex, we would still orgasm. If I wasn’t feeling sexual, he would do anything to TRY to get me aroused. He seemed to love pleasing, but then I started to question whether he wanted to see me aroused…or is he trying to lure me into sex?

Anyway, now we are apart. Last night we had a fight and I lost my mind. I abandoned my pride and went off on him….calling him every name I could in hopes he would feel miserable like me. It is ironic that I am feeling this way. As mentioned before, I kicked him out a few months ago. I forced him to buy the airline ticket so he could go back to his hometown (on the other side of the world). He called me crying from the airport. I was so relieved to be free from him.

Now it is months later, and for the first time I am crying. I cried out loud last night, because I feel so betrayed. I truly considered getting back with him in the last month. I looked at our relationship and realized that I need to change. He said he will help me change. He said I need to stop working in the sex industry. He said he will support my education. He said he will support us. BUT THEN….what about him? This is when I broke down. He never ONCE admitted his flaws. He never ONCE said it was wrong of him to call me a whore, etc. I had admitted my faults numerous times, and all he did is blame me for everything. I’m selfish, I sleep with other men, I call him names and belittle him. I admit it. He keeps saying that the whole time during our relationship he was always trying to help me and protect me (but it was me to started the fights). If he was so caring, why did he react violently?

I asked him last night, “Do you think it’s ok to assert your physical strength on a woman?” All he could say was that my ‘calling him names, anger, and mood swings’ were making me mad. He was trying to justify hitting me. It killed me. I asked him over and over if he thinks its okay to hit a woman, but he just kept coming up with excuses to justify what he did. It was not the answer I was hoping for, and it crushed my soul. I realized then, last night, that everything isn’t MY fault. My ex isn’t a saint, he is a ‘nice guy’ who is addicted to my body. One thing that never made sense to me is that why didn’t he leave me if I was so hostile to him? He continuously tells me it was my anger that started our fights, so why didn’t he leave me? Had I not called the police and have them ask him to leave me, where would we be now?

I tried breaking up with him early on in the relationship because I knew we were very different, yet he would cry and say that he has nobody. I truly felt sorry for him, which is why I could not let him go easily. And now….I love my freedom to be away from him, yet I am deeply lonely. I crave the man I love, the man who slapped me across the face….the man who spends 1 hour licking my entire body until I have the most intense orgasm on his face. It is so messed up. What sort of love is this? My hormones crave him only, and yet I know he is no longer this perfect man.

I am a desirable, beautiful woman who is paid a large sum of money for her company, and yet I feel utterly alone. There are many men I know who want to go out and spend time with me (who are genuine and nice)….but being an escort has distorted my reality. I no longer know how to act around men. I only know how to act around clients. A lot of young guys I meet at school want to go out with me, but I can’t even conceive of hanging out with them. For one, I want to trust them but escorting ruined my perception of men. Although I appear normal, friendly, and sweet I am deeply ruined and emotional inside. This keeps me from being near others who want to be near me.

*I like how Amber describes the reality of being a high-class Escort. It’s basically spot-on on on how it is:

Being an escort is a very lonely way to live.

Surronded by men, but no one who really knows you. Noone who really cares about you.

Escorts lose their family and friends. We either shock them into leaving us if they find out, or we get caught up in our world of secrets and lies that we slowly block people out, until we realize we are alone. Maybe not physically, but alone.

We cant tell anyone what we do for work. We cant talk about our day, our clients. We cant share the funny or scarey stories with anyone. We cant sit down with our families and talk about how this all makes us feel.

We end up isolated, and there may be people around us, but it is different now because we cant open ourselves up to them anymore. We cant be ourselves, because we are doing something that noone wants to talk about. We cant be ourselves with our clients either. We have to perform a job, and that job is to be sweet and sexy and completely focused on him. Noone wants an angry escort, or one crying because her boyfriend beat her up.

Even after leaving the business, they are our secrets to keep. Our memories, our stories, that we cant share with people we care about.

Its loneliness. It makes you guarded, and cautious. Normal conversations, normal get togethers, become tricky. Lying gets hard, and always having to hide the truth is harder.

I get so many emails from those who have worked, just to tell me a story, just to get something off their chest and feel the relief of having been able to talk to someone. I love that they can write to me. And it breaks my heart because I know how hard it is to live that way.

(View her blog :http://beinganescort.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2008-08-11T11:35:00-07:00&max-results=3

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Rich and Broken-Hearted

December was a good month. Now it is the New Year 2011. The money was made (and a generous portion of it spent!) and I feel empty again.

After periods of breaks I started working independently as an escort last month. My rates were slightly higher than the going rate for high-class companionship. My phone rang continuously after minimal advertising and continues to ring. I felt very thankful, because I was not sure what to expect. My rates were high, and my service was safe. In the escorting world most girls who want to charge high rates have to include more ‘extras’ apart from just sex with a condom…..which I simply refuse to do. So I feel thankful. I had a handful of clients that I didn’t even have to sleep with. This is where escorting becomes addictive: when I have clients who pay lots of money for a quick and easy session (ex: minimal work for me).

Yet I sit here. Depressed. Lonely. Full of doubt and uncertainty.

I have been a high class prostitute for nearly five years now. I started in my late teens and now am in my early-mid twenties.

My ex-fiancee brought up a great point in a conversation the other day: “I have made a lot of money and it never made me happy.” This is also true for myself. In the five years I’ve been in the sex industry I have made quite a bit of money, traveled the world, owned most of the material possessions I’ve wanted (except the big one, purchasing a home)…and yet I’ve never been satisfied. And even worse, I have saved nothing. Money that comes easy goes very easily. The old cliché is something I truly believe: more money, more problems.

This blog is about the reality of getting into ‘high-class’ prostitution. I used quotations because the reality is it’s all a facade. The elegance and glamor of it really comes down to SEX — which in itself is only spectacular when with someone you love (for me at least). I will hopefully get to talk about things from ‘The Girlfriend Experience’ to the types of clients I encounter. I will also mention great books or films I watch that depict the lives/memoirs of other working girls.

Last time I re-read the last few chapters of a book called, “Disgraced” by Saira Ahmed. It’s about a Pakistani-Muslim girl who became a high-class escort. In the last few chapters she discusses her entering and leaving of the escort business. A few times her recollections have brought me to tears when she speaks about how it changed her view of men and her relationships. It reminded me of my ex and I. I still love him. I left him a few months ago….on my own selfish whim.

Being with him for 2.5 years made me realize that I have a serious addiction. I do not drink or take drugs. But I have a serious addiction to escorting. It may seem silly to say that but the reality is I cannot quit the industry. Most working girls will understand what I am talking about, because many of them have also tried to leave only to find themselves coming back after ‘breaks.’

I have tried leaving the industry three times now. The last time I tried to leave is because I met the man of my dreams. However, he was a former client of mine….which only later in the relationship I realized how it wasn’t such a good idea to be with a man who knows what I did for a living once.

I remember how we met. I was living overseas in a new country and big city. At first I established myself with a new job that was what us girls call a ‘straight job’ (meaning it wasn’t in the sex industry).  It was in retail. I worked full-time for eight hours each day and made petty money. It didn’t matter because it was just part of the experience of living in a new country for a while. Part of the reason I moved overseas was to stop working in the industry and change my lifestyle and habits. I was trying to be less materialistic and more humble. I was using escorting to fuel my consumer habits that were leaving me feeling empty and shallow.

Anyway, the retail job overseas only lasted a month until my addiction tapped up on me.  I was working so hard, but kept reminding myself that a whole week’s worth of wages is something I could make in 1 hour. Why was I slaving myself for petty pay when I could be paid to essentially get pleasure? That’s what I told myself. Indeed there were many clients I encountered who literally paid me to seek out my pleasure, but it wasn’t always that way. There’s the good, and then there is the average. Most of the men are decent looking and polite. Over the last five years I can only recall maybe 2 or 3 clients that were problematic, but nothing life threatening. Again, I am thankful that I haven’t encountered a dangerous client yet, because I know there a predators out there.

Back to my venture overseas. I ended up going back to the industry. I looked at the local papers and saw hundreds of advertising for escorts, brothels, and massage parlors. I was in a country where prostitution was legal. I wasn’t keen on escorting (going to a client’s hotel), so I decided to try a high-end brothel establishment. I called up one that was located in a posh area, and the following Saturday I ended up working. I made a lot of money that night, and ended up working until the early morning. The following shifts followed the same pattern. I felt great again. Whenever I got back to the industry I felt like I was on top of the world, because the money seemed endless and my ego was inflated. Only two months after going back to the industry in this new wonderous country I met my boyfriend (fiancee).

I remember the night vividly. I wasn’t even supposed to work that night, but I came into work. Before I even got dressed in my lingerie the receptionist asked me if I wanted to meet a client in the waiting room. She told me that I was exactly his type: busty and very attractive. So I went to say hi to him in my normal clothes and he chose me instantly. At first he booked for one hour, which later turned into a 3 hour booking. During those hours sex didn’t seem like it was his main reason for coming to see a girl. I could tell he was lonely. He told me about his life: he works all the time, Muslim, alone, doesn’t drink, doesn’t go out too much. Yet we had so much to talk about. I felt very comfortable with him. The fact he wasn’t touching me, or making a grab for my breasts (like most men do) made me feel I could trust him. I was quite horny that night, and because he was so polite I wanted to give him my body. I allowed him to go down on me, and I even crossed my limited and kissed him passionately. We had sex at the end that was quick. He asked for my number. I told him I don’t go out with clients outside of work, but I still gave him my number. Many men ask to take me out, and a few times in the past I had gone with them only to regret it later. But for some reason I trusted him.

I told him I was craving a specific ethnic cuisine, so on our first meeting he took me to the fanciest restaurant in the city. He was very respectful and polite. He bombarded me with gifts that night. I did not know how to react. My mind always assumed anyone giving me something always had a catch. But he said he didn’t expect anything. I had already set me mind that I would not have sex with a client for free. If he were to try to touch me or act sexual I would leave immediately. But that did not happen. The fact that he did not touch me or make a move drove my hormones wild. Instead I gave him a small kiss. We ended up kissing for hours. Even after kissing he still respectfully kept his hands off my body. It drove me insane, because I had never encountered a man who didn’t proceed to touch me. Finally I motioned him to do something (anything) to my deeply aroused body. So he decided we lay in his bed and cuddle. He kissed my entire body for another 2 hours, teasing me respectfully and being careful not to touch my private areas. This made me even more hot, yet I was shy to say anything.  Then he kissed my thighs and slowly started to kiss me down there. He did it for over an hour, teasing me and breaking my climaxes. I had the most intense orgasm and he loved it.

After that, he still continued to amaze me. After I had orgasm, he just laid back and cuddled me. I thought he would have expected something in return, but he didn’t. He was humble and said he enjoyed giving me pleasure. That made me want to give him pleasure too. We made love that night.

After that first date, I thought of him as a great person and new friend. I did not want to date him and didn’t even think about it. We continued seeing each other and he eventually asked me, “So are you my girlfriend?” I wasn’t sure what to say because I had not even considered it. I said yes…hesitantly.  We stayed together from then on and he continued to give me the best orgasms every day of our relationship. 2.5  years later we moved across the world together, engaged, and now are living on opposite sides of the world. I left him. The police helped me make him leave.

And now I love him. And now I need him. I chose my independence over him. In particular, I chose escorting over him. I have all that I want, and I’m unhappy.

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