It seems that a few sex workers I have spoken to get a bit funny about the bit where clients hand over the money, and I can’t for the life of me see why. To me, it is one of the most exciting parts and it is what differentiates us sex workers from the ladies who frequent online matchmaking websites and bars (do guys still pick up girls in bars?) to pick up a guy. I have always felt that was a bit of a meat market and also potentially quite dangerous, for the men as much as the women, there are some crazies out there. I don’t go there because it just does not turn me on that much to meet someone that way.
Sex work, on the other hand, is a big turn on for me, I have written about how I love what I do. I am not being exploited in any way. This is the most fun thing that I am doing right now. I love to get paid for sex. In fact, this is the only way I get to fuck right now, as I am presently single – I have not yet found the perfect relationship where I get to be myself and also my Amber self, maybe one day I will.
I am not doing sex work as often as I would like because I actually also work in an office at the moment, and while I get paid reasonably well (not as well as sex work obviously), and my wage alone is more than enough to survive on, I am not getting paid to have sex, which leaves me incredibly horny when I have an opportunity to fuck (for money). Like now, this weekend, or any evening. Call me!!
But back to selling sex. I love the money part. Women love rich men, just as men love sexy women. It’s to do with having babies and being supported comfortably or luxuriously on the part of the woman, and fucking lots of women and spreading their seed on the part of men. Both of those things are carefully connected to keep the population growing so that we have a human race and horny men and women who want to be financially looked after are essential to that plan. Like it or lump it, religious fanatics: this is how we were created, it’s the essence of humanity. Men are horny, women want their money. Well maybe not the essence, but pretty damn up there with the essence.
And that’s why I love prostitution. It’s the scenario from the above paragraph simplified, in a nutshell, sped up, in the space of the hour or however long the transaction is for. We sex workers who work from premises charge by spaces of time; street workers of course, charge by the service, so a fuck might take 12 minutes, you pay for it, come then leave. Ship girls used to get paid differently again. It’s stretched out a little when you’re in a room with a hooker, you pay for half an hour or an hour or more, have one or more fucks and an interaction with a sexy lady, then when the time is up you leave. Men leave, they’ve got rid of some of their seed. Women leave, they’ve got some money. Isn’t that beautiful?
In the real world it goes like this: Men fake an interest in love – whatever the fuck that is – to get sex. (They may or may not consciously act rich, look rich, or pretend to be rich – or really be rich – by surrounding themselves with nice cars and toys, and clothes which they feel makes them look good). They will probably buy a girl a drink, a dinner (and eventually a diamond) to indicate they are attracted to her, which she interprets as their possibly being able to love her forever so they can both live happily ever after. Women fake an interest in sex to get love, by making themselves as attractive as possible and to indicate that she has a strong interest in sex with them, she acts like a vixen, showing a bit of cleavage, wearing red lipstick, grinding up to a man on the dancefloor. Maybe later they fuck. She dreams of a happy life together with her rich, successful husband by her side, he dreams of endless sex adventures with his sexy, horny, trophy wife. Of course at any time she could go off sex (plan foiled). Also at any time he could leave the love nest. (In my opinion though, men never leave, they are either stolen or pushed – but that’s a different blog post).
We are so lucky here in New Zealand. In America they can’t talk openly about sex for money, they have to refer to their payment as donations, and what they are selling is companionship, which may or may not include sex. If I go to New York to work, I may be an ex-sex worker, but in the present, I would be working as a companion. How quaint. My donation will be handed to me in an envelope with a card, inside a little gift bag which may or may not also include chocolates (although I would prefer french perfume). And in Sweden, they have taken away all the clients of sex workers by prosecuting the clients rather than sex workers. I think they’re on their way to making it illegal for men to be horny too, because it’s exploitative of women.
I’ve been paid many different amounts for sex in my time. I am always happy to receive it, just as I am happy to receive my wages from my office job. I generally count my money out in front of my clients (unless it has been received in an envelope by a regular) and I am happy to point out if I am overpaid, although I am likely to be told to keep it (warms my heart). I love the fantasy that I am with a rich man (he must be rich if he is paying me), it makes me feel very appreciative and responsive.
On the flip side, a man who mentions being broke (is he hoping for a discount?) is as much of a turn off for a sex worker as a sex worker is who mentions that she is menstruating right now, and has quite a bad cramp going on, plus a bit of a period headache. This is not the girlfriend experience the client has been hoping for, this is the wife experience and is about as sexy as discoloured baggy cotton underwear – a bloke gets enough of that at home. That is not what he is paying for. Likewise, a sex worker wants money from her clients – if a man is too broke to see a sex worker, he should stay at home. We sex workers like rich men, not broke ones. Rich ones seem more fun. So if you’re a client, don’t mention your money problems. It’s the same as sex workers talking about issues with their lady parts. It’s too much information.
Does a man enjoy paying for sex? I’m not sure. They enjoy the sex, I presume, or they wouldn’t be there. I think they should have a bit of pride in the fact that they can afford to share this nice dollop of cash with a beautiful woman. Obviously the payment part is a crucial part of the equation. No sex worker likes a man who tries to negotiate the price down – let her, if she is feeling favourable toward him, offer extra time for free, or treat him to a more personalised experience, or perhaps see him outside work for a coffee for free or whatever – incidentally that is a HUGE gift, as she is offering a part of herself that goes beyond her sex work persona.
There is a man who is apparently well-known among Christchurch sex workers, avoided by most of us (and as I mentioned once, word spreads fast about arseholes), for booking a couple of hours at a time, usually at an inconvenient time too and eventually sneaking less and less money into the payment pile until it becomes insulting. Some ladies who don’t count their money in front of the client did not find out they had been underpaid until he left – that was the last time they took his calls. The less he paid, the less likable he seems. The less likable he seems, the less likely it is that anyone wants to see him. And face it, if we don’t like someone, he is not likely to get a very interesting fuck.
I am reasonably willing to offer a special price depending on circumstances if I choose to. I have favourites who know what to give me. Once I had a regular who, for a short time, had erection problems a couple of times when he saw me. This shouldn’t be made into a big deal, so I suggested that he pay for half an hour and stay an hour and only pay me the balance if he came. I did this because he was a favourite of mine and I felt he had a mental block due to the pressure to perform in that hour, so I just removed that pressure to perform by telling him I was happy to kiss and cuddle etc and not go all the way and he could pay less, but if it happened it happened. Consequently it did happen quite naturally and he never once paid me only for half an hour. From then on he could always come, sometimes more than once. If a client is a darling like this client was, most sex workers, at least the hookers with hearts of gold, are prepared to bend the rules around payment.
I occasionally get tips from clients and I’m never quite sure what I did especially well that particular day as I get on well with most of my clients. But a tip is always appreciated, whether it is a “keep the change” tip or more. A long-time, platonic friend of mine, (who is married to another woman and who is not a client of mine and never has been), whenever he takes me out for a bite to eat or a catch up coffee, always rounds up the bill to a round number. He told me he always does it because it’s easier to balance his accounts, is not that much extra and does not go unnoticed by staff who give him great service on return visits. Clever man. Tipping of anyone including sex workers isn’t necessary or expected in this part of the world so that makes it even more noteworthy and appreciated when it happens.
The biggest tip I ever received was a five figure amount which back in the day allowed me to take time off work for a year and travel around the world (I did actually end up working in London but I didn’t need to for financial reasons – luckily, as it was crap). I can’t remember doing anything special to get that money, he was just a really nice man (who happened to be rich). I remember when I arrived (he was staying at my favourite five star hotel in Sydney) he was on the phone and I overheard him persuading a friend of his to bring his family overseas for a holiday with my client and his family, it was to be my client’s treat. He was just a generous guy. At the end of the booking, he offered me enough money for a year off if I sent him my address so that he could send me a cheque. As we lived in different cities I agreed to do that, curious about whether or not a cheque would actually arrive. Then I wondered whether or not the cheque would bounce. It didn’t. That gesture and that man, who I met with once more after that, is a legend in my life.
But the truth is, while I say I love rich men as a sex worker, I don’t actually care if clients really are rich. So long as they pay me. They can pretend that they are rich when they really are not and I will lap it up, because I am a sex worker and it’s my sexual fantasy to be fucked by men who pay me. It’s just a variation of the fantasy that we are taught in the real world from the time we were little girls, that one day we will grow up, get married, live in a nice house, have babies and live happily ever after. My version of the fantasy, selling sex, is much more fun though.