This one may surprise and offend people or alter the way they look at me. And it’s okay; it’s my life, I can do whatever I want. I like to try everything at least once for the thrill of it. It gives me discipline knowing I’ve done it and what are the pros and cons. It’s better than being someone in the mid-40s having a crisis and going on a sex bender while in a marriage or some shit. That would be horrifying. I would not want to become that person.
The build-up
My ex and I broke up last year, or much longer, for that matter. We still talked afterward, and it wasn’t much bittersweet. So it blurred the line of time for me. It was hard for both sides to move on properly. We both needed that time to separate emotionally and be ourselves again.
I’ve been on dry land, and work has me all wrapped up; it’s challenging to get to know someone else. And honestly, I’m tired of the whole dating game. It feels like a waste of time and costs too much energy and effort. I’m not in the state where I want to bang anymore, but dating is consuming. I guess it’s just a no for me now until proven otherwise.
I look like a nice and kind guy, which I am, but I have a rather wild young adulthood from bar hopping, parties, swinger clubs, to orgies. It’s the silent type of person who is the freakiest one.
When my coworkers plan to go to Vegas this June, I’ll instead take a trip to visit a long-time friend I haven’t seen for seven years. We used to go out almost every other day back home. It will be our first time seeing one another in the U, the S, the A. I’m excited to see her!
If there’s a God of Time, he doesn’t like me because he will make my friend occupied with her fiance’s family on my arrival. I glance at the map and decide to take a detour to New Orleans, which I’ve never been to before. Anyways, the next thing I know, I’m on some escort site looking at the girls’ profiles. Lmao. Was it like some witchcraft?
What’s the difference between escort and prostitute?
Sex should be free, and it should. But sometimes you have to try something different.
In Asia, a lot of successful guys are single because of many reasons. They work too much, don’t have any “me time” left for dating, or they’re shy, lack common sense, or they’re gay in the closet.
So hiring a “social escort” to accompany you to an important event is okay to “save face” with family and friends.
Heck, I even considered hiring such a service for them to show up at my family for Lunar New Year. It’s one of the worst holidays in my book. Pesty uncles and aunts would be nosey about who I date and my type, like leave me alone already.
I was actually “been” with an escort before without my knowledge. More on that later.
But escorts are so much more than prostitutes. You still pay them to have sex with you, and that’s the theory. However, most escorts have higher education; some are studying to grab that pretty huge dick, I mean Ph.D., some in it for the thrill of having sex with strangers, some only accompany you while also denying you for sex acts, etc. There is a whole spectrum out there.
You don’t always get to have sex with an escort; they’re like modern geishas in a way. But I guess now it becomes an essential part of the deal. Otherwise, why would people pay money for it? Right?
Some even become your assistant during the time you book them and take care of your work schedule.
Their services, skills, and what they allow you to do are up to them. It can’t be negotiated because it’s rude but can be discussed between 2 consenting adults. I call that a bargain.
Some escorts would even have their own businesses, so escorting is a hobby on the side. Girls gotta have their cake and eat it too.
Versus prostitution, you get a 500% guarantee to bust a nut. The women’s looks are days and nights between prostitutes and escorts.
It feels pretty derogatory using that word; maybe I should have said sex workers vs. escorts?
Regardless of what they do, it’s an ancient profession, and escorts get tested often for many things concerning the, you know, money-making area, which is why I’d like to dip it in once.
Prostitution is so much cheaper in Asia, and streetwalkers are more common. They even have their own streets to conduct business, although it’s illegal. But yeah, I think prostitution is not safe. I’m a bit germaphobic. So I never took a bite on those offers back home.
Being with an escort
I was at a party with a friend of a friend, let’s call my friend A. It happened a very long time ago, at least 12+ years. There were nice, clean-looking guys and gorgeous girls all around.
If you have the chance to watch Bling Empire on Netflix, I’m like Kevin, an average, lucky guy who got invited to the scene without the paycheck to spend for any of that extravagant lifestyle.
For many, it’s a lousy show. For me personally, it’s very relatable and “true to life,” and I binged watch it in one day.
I forgot her name, or maybe in the back of my mind, I didn’t want to memorize. We did have a lot of fun during and post-party. Her skin is silky smooth, Asian white porcelain if it makes sense. Everything else is waxed; her eyebrows have a sharp arch, her short hair and body smell good all night, like an aphrodisiac.
I paid my price with a headache that lasted almost a day and a half because I drank on an almost empty stomach; it was a great night.
Long story short, a few weeks after that, I hung out with a good friend of A. He asked me how the experience was with the girl. I was like it was good; it boosted my confidence and depression at the time.
I was in a pretty dark, hopeless place, so booze and nights when I don’t remember what I did or who I did it with, or what house did I wake up to was a regular thing.
I slept over at my friends a lot, but the other days were a mystery. Sometimes I’d wear the same outfit I wore to work the previous day, and everybody just legit shook their heads and knew what’s up. And at times, my parents had to call me home because they haven’t seen me for over a week. The more I think about those phone calls, the more my heart sinks.
Then my friend spilled the beans that the girl I was with is, in fact, an escort.
I wish you could see the look on my face but just thinking about it makes my jaw hurt. It was off the record, and the escort was cordially invited to the party, not hired, but she sent the bill to my friend A.
It was an overnight stay, so it was, of course, costly. I went nuts when I heard that. It was more shameful than anything.
A is filthy rich; I don’t think she cares as long as her friends have fun. But still.
I felt pretty awkward knowing that tiny little detail. I wanted to talk to A about it to clear my name, but I didn’t want to bring it up because I was too embarrassed.
We were friends for a bit, so she knows my personality. I’d assume she knew, but I was nervous, more or less sad and ashamed.
I kept refusing to go to her following parties or hangouts for two reasons, my incident and I couldn’t afford it even if we split the bill because they always ordered bottle service. And we never ended at one bar/club. Say you have 4 bottles at a bar and another 2-3 bottles left at another club. It’s insane. I don’t even know how these kids get that kind of money.
But that doesn’t stop A from inviting me. And if she weren’t, her friends would. I felt somewhat trapped, although I wholeheartedly enjoyed being there. It feels like you owe your friends something even though you don’t.
If I knew this person was an escort, I wouldn’t have been with her.
I don’t think it was an issue for any of us at that time to hook up with random people. They have the money; I have the career or suave? Lol.
When you write (not in my terrible English, thank God), or if you’re high up the chain, wannabe models/singers/anything in between flock to you, offer their body in return for some marketing action plan. It’s sad, but it’s true.
In a world where models/singers keep popping up every day, you’ll need some boost to get far.
However, most people won’t publicly mention this to protect both their integrity and the identity of the other one(s). It is one piece of info that one would bring to their grave. It exists.
Anywho, I didn’t talk to A about the incident. Not at all. I was “less lively” going to A’s parties after that, but I warmed up quickly. I have never seen the escort or any of the girls that night again. So I guess A knows things. God bless A.
Before meeting L
I bite the bullet and email L, the escort I saw on some prestigious site.
That was one tricky email to write. Lol. I’ve never requested this kind of service before. I don’t know why I did it, but I did it anyway like the fuck is wrong with me?
I do not think about New Orleans at all up to that point, and then boom, a lot of investment is pouring into this city, and I do things that are questionable to my character. Is it sorcery? What just happened?
I’m to give her my full name, DOB, provider references (which I don’t have a clue about), and a current picture.
My heart race is going crazy. I’m excited yet nervous as hell for her response.
She is an independent affiliate, meaning she wouldn’t be tied up to any pimp, brothel, or whatever is controlling her or take away her commission. And because of this, she’d also set up some screening time and can be picky in choosing her clients.
It’s like you’re about to sign an apartment/house contract; the management will vet you and make sure you’re not a criminal or killer or some sicko.
A provider referral is like someone or organization vows for you that you’re a clean person with good manners. Or contacts from some other escorts, which she could call around and ask beforehand if I understand this correctly.
This part is interesting. L shows off her body, but nothing is explicit or shown except her breasts. Those bosom are among the finest I’ve seen so far because her areolae are of perfect size and color.
I think I’ve seen quite a bit of boob in my lifetime. Some folks even flash me out of nowhere because they find me cute/young-looking and think I’m a virgin. It is why I love America. Lol.
But that’s the kind of class that I like— mysterious, long-legged, and slender. Now I do think I have a type; L is a dirty blonde, green-eyes vixen.
What I shouldn’t have done was saying out loud what I wanted to do with her and asked if I could kiss her during the session. I think it was considered “very rude” to want a service you have yet to pay for, and most escorts don’t even allow kissing.
It’s a grey area because it’s too intimate, or escorts could have partners, and kissing is off the book for all parties. I don’t know; it’s just my assumptions. However, she replies that we can kiss if I’m a good boy. So that means a no. Lol.
I didn’t write erotica to her or anything; however, it did get steamy and wordy. I apologized for my carry-away questions, the steam and hope she wouldn’t see me as a rude person.
I don’t think she screens me either. Maybe? I don’t know.
She replies the next day and says she’d love to meet me with some exclamation marks!! Seeing a few tattoos of her, I showed her a selfie with my full sleeves.
She apologizes for replying late even though it’s within the same day. She does know how to flirt with words. It’s nice. The biggest thing for me is flirty texts with a stranger. There’s a line that you could easily cross as being a creep or some inappropriate, horny person.
But again, the God of Time toys with me. She would be away three days before my arrival, and the three following days, it’d be her birthday, when she would also be out of town. Bollocks.
She did offer me another “service provider,” meaning another escort friend of hers. But have not seen this gal yet, I quickly refused. I felt like this is some “provider reference,” which I hope it wasn’t. I’m not going to pay for two of them; Bill Gates is not my father. Lol.
I was really looking forward to the experience so I could eagerly tick off my bucket list. I think I’ll wait for L when the time arrives. I feel like we have a lot of chemistry, and we’re both sensual. So it’ll be one hell of a fun time.
I must save my stimulus check and spend it on something worthwhile. Thanks, Mr. President. JK.
The verdict?
It’s difficult to say why people even think about using a service, a profession that has existed for centuries. Yet, one would hide this fact from family, friends, and even partners to hire an escort in secret.
Here I am just casually writing a blog about it. Shit.
For sex workers, yes, it’s an awful lot for them, and some may be forced to do so without a way out. Maybe it’s a way to provide for the family, fund their kids’ education, etc.
As for escorts, the women have more leeway to be with who they choose, and it may also be a hobby. You spend a sum to have her as “a companion” for the allocated time that you booked.
She’s more educated, intelligent, refined like aged wine, but of course, she comes with a steep price.
As to why men flock to these services and want a piece of it, I don’t know, man.
I can’t answer that for them because I have a hard time explaining that to myself right now.
Off to New Orleans soon
I emailed L after sleeping on it for four days. My brain was like sailing a ship in the stormy weather; it’s fucked. Finally, I said, let’s go.
I’m a bit concerned about New Orleans, and things happen for no valid reason lately.
Do you think some force just pushes me towards this decision!?
Suddenly, I’m now super interested in learning about New Orleans, getting a medium reading, a tarot card reading, and the first thing that comes to mind is visiting one of its famous cemeteries. I’m now startled!
Hiring an escort would be the least in my mind, especially when I had such a nasty incident in the past. I haven’t entertained this idea at all. And here I am contradicting myself. Is L a witch? Nah, she can’t be.
For some, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. For me, what happens in New Orleans, stays in New Orleans.
