Thursday, 02 May 2013
“Appreciation is a wonderful thing: It makes what is excellent in others belong to us as well.”
I am really lucky to have some really magnificent, funny, engaging, kind, sexy, generous, interesting and caring clients in my life. This is an open letter to acknowledge you – some of it is a little tongue-in-cheek, but it comes from a place of absolute sincerity within me. You make my day better. You are deeply appreciated. Thank you. x
Dear Mr. Wonderful,
Today I decided to write you a letter. I decided to say thank you to you for all the amazing things you’ve done for me, and the cherished things you bring to my day. Thank you for being someone with whom I can really enjoy spending time.
My job has its pros (ahem) and cons – like any other job. I have good days and bad days like everybody else. But my job does have its own unique challenges, some in the context of the work itself, and some outside that. Part of this is because my work is outside the experience, even the imagination, of many people in the “straight” world – it’s not within the understanding of everyone in society. And part of it is due to the stigma and judgment that I experience as a sex worker.
But you? You treat me with kindness, with respect, and with consideration. You respect my boundaries, in fact, you prioritise them – and in the process, I can transcend some of them and really let myself go with you. Not everyone in your place does that. But you do, and I appreciate you for that.
Thank you for approaching me with respect, the first time we communicated. My heart swelled when I realised you had in fact read my profile! You were polite, you had followed my preferred contact method, you gave me lots of notice and you included essential booking details, like time, date and duration, which enabled me to quickly consult my diary and get back to you with ease. Already, I felt fabulous about our upcoming meeting…
You confirmed with me the day prior as I had requested, meaning I felt positive and my schedule remained undisturbed.
Then, the day of our meeting finally arrived. I did not feel a sense of trepidation at the thought of your arrival – your pre-booking actions had almost acted like foreplay. But, little did I know – the foreplay was about to get laid on, nice and thick, and before you even touched me.
You arrived, on time. I admired your clean-shaven, smooth face and your kind smile. When I wrapped my arms around you to welcome you, you smelled gorgeous. You were discreet and quiet at the door, and I felt myself relax at the knowledge that the neighbours were not involved in your audible arrival.
We went to the bedroom, and you complimented me with genuine praise. It felt lovely. You placed my rate on the table for me, without being asked. More relaxation for me, and no awkwardness for either of us. We chatted a little, and I didn’t mind that you were nervous, or shorter than me, or cuddly, or greying, or balding. Your approach to me was what really mattered.
I showed you to the shower and I hung up your clothes. I got the room in order whilst you were in the bathroom and fetched a couple of glasses for us to enjoy the wine you so kindly brought. It wasn’t expected, or necessary, but it was most generous of you to bring a little gift for us to share.
I was enamoured with your showering prowess. You didn’t stick your right leg in and let a bit of shower spray run over it whilst rolling your eyes – you actually got in, turned on the water, and used – so deliciously – the soap. You’re the kind of man who gets a couple of full pumps of body wash into your paws, and lathers up alllll the crevices. You wash your “special place”, pulling back your foreskin, washing under your scrotum, betwixt your cheeks, and under your arms. Even though I am appreciative of your attention to detail in this area, everything is already pretty good because you shower daily anyway, meaning that you are not marinating in your own filth, sweat, and waste products – the clients who do have sometimes even compelled me to wash them myself, but it’s like the aromas soak into the skin and it cannot be budged.
So, when you came back into the room, my nose and I were both giddy with excitement that you were fresh, clean, and poo/wee/smegma/stink free. This made me want to come towards you, rather than to back away.
You kissed me. You kissed me with heavenly, minty fresh breath – you had used the mouthwash I provided for you. Puurrrr. You were soft, you were gentle. You kissed me using the cushiony part of your lips, but without your teeth or jawbone. You kissed me softly for a while, allowing me to continue my delicious process of relaxation, before slowly and delicately introducing your skilled tongue – just caressing my lips with it, delving gently into my mouth (but never trying to tickle my tonsils). It was then that I suspected that perhaps you were the kind of man who knows what a woman needs to build up her sexual fire. As I felt your hand slowly and sensually stroke my skin, moving over my cheek, my neck, my shoulder, and down over my breast to my stomach, my thigh, with the lightest, feathery touch, I delighted in the sensation and yearned for more.
You were looking for signs from me. We were only getting to know each other, but you paid attention (a hallmark of a good lover) to what I liked and what I didn’t. I felt comfortable with you and gave you some gentle direction and when you heard me ask, “Oh, I love it when you lick/touch me there more softly”, you went more softly. You never tried to push me to do anything. By this stage, my relaxation level was so high that I knew I could really and truly let go, surrender to this pleasure, this genuine desire, and connect with you.
We had some pretty fantastic sex. We fed off each other’s energy, communicating and listening to each other, kissing, touching, the passion building, hungry hands going everywhere, devouring each other. You were never aggressive, never rough. Your masculinity was never threatened by my needs. You showed me how much you love women, your consideration for me, your genuine care for my comfort and enjoyment, and in the process, you showed me what a real man you are.
We chatted and had another glass of wine, and you shared parts of yourself with me, but didn’t demand information about me I might not be comfortable to share. You just let things flow, nice and easy, and listened with interest to what I had to say, too. I knew that what we had just shared was a mutual exchange of enjoyment and a true joining of bodies and minds. You left close to on time – I didn’t mind you staying a little bit over, I was enjoying your company so much. You said thank you at the door, and I thought to myself, “I can’t wait to see him again. I really hope he books me again soon!” And the next time you wanted to see me, I was thrilled.
So, thank you. Thank you again for being who you are and for your actions. Through them, you have affirmed me as a person. I feel valued by you, and the feeling is absolutely mutual.