Sonntag, 13. Juni 2010

My first time

Now I'm officially a whore. I slept with a complete stranger and he gave me money for it. How does it feel? I still don't know how to put it although some time has already passed. But in the end I have to say that it felt natural. I went home after and I was in a good mood. Not because of the money. But because it felt natural.

It all started with an e-mail from Paul. Some people would call him a pimp but actually he just runs the agency I work with, he picks the "models" and arranges meetings between them and the clients. Ah and he takes a provision of 40%. So he probably is a pimp indeed. However, I don't look at him that way. I even like him, find him quite sympathetic - he's pretty young, just a little bit older than I am. When I met him the first time, I was very surprised. In this business you have a certain clichee in your mind about the people that work there. But concerning Paul this clichee was completely wrong. He's a very nice, handsome and polite young man. He doesn't look like a pimp at all - actually he could be rather described as one of those preppy boys from a rich family, wearing polo shirts and loafers all the time and going sailing in their spare time. But the most important thing: I trust him. He makes me feel comfortable and he makes me feel like I'm doing a respectable job.

So I got this e-mail from Paul, suggesting to meet with a regular client, Francis. There was a short description of Francis (in his 50s, regular build, well-respected company manager) and a feedback another girl had written after her date with him (he's fond of oral, giving and receiving, a rough lover). Look, you even get briefed about your clients, isn't that very professional? ;) Francis also knew that this would be my first time, obviously he even was very much into being the first! Was I excited. Yes, a little. But I was more excited when I did my driver's test or my A-levels. Although all this was new terrain for me it felt quite unspectacular.

Francis and I were supposed to meet at the Sheraton, in the hotel bar, in the afternoon. Let me tell you the one and only thing that made me feel uncomfortable about it all: When I walked into the bar, with big hair, great make-up, a sexy but tasteful dress and high heels, all the hotel staff looked at me. I could tell that they were curious about me, that they tried to figure me out. But when I sat down with Francis, an older man with white hair and obviously rich, everything was clear. From that moment on, everyone could tell that I was a hooker. And that was the moment, I hated about the job because it was so clear and without ambiguity. I was out there.

We just spent about twenty minutes in the bar, chit-chatting and having a drink together (I still wonder how a man his age and status could have a 'Sex on the beach' but whatever). Francis was very nice and made me a lot of compliments. I almost hadn't eaten that day to feel skinny so after one glass of champagne I was already pretty tipsy and ready to get it on and get my clothes off. We went up to his room. And we had sex. For two hours we fucked, cuddled and talked, fucked, cuddled and talked. It was nice and weird at the same time. Nice because Francis made me feel good and although I didn't come while sleeping with him, blowing him and him going down on me it felt natural. Nice because we cuddled and talked like we've already known each other for a long time. Weird because everytime I opened my eyes, I saw this older man with white hair and his pale, untrained body all over myself. Weird because I wondered how one minute he could give me the anal finger and another minute caress my hair and be all nice and sweet again. But I don't judge. I was there to please him and I did. When we were finished, he gave me 450 Euro and left.

Before doing this I was afraid that I would have a nervous breakdown or anything similar after my first client. I expected it to be mental stress and that I would need to recover from it. But I didn't. I went home in a good mood (altough the champagne had already worn off), flirted with a very cute suit-guy on the subway (and realized I would appreciate young lovers much more from that day on) and had a very normal rest of the day. I didn't even shower! I think that shows best how at ease it all felt. I didn't feel dirty, I didn't feel used, I was just fine. And maybe that was the moment when I realized that I had talent for this.