***
It was almost three in the morning when I eventually got home. I’d ended up staying an extra half an hour with David. It was time I’d assured him he didn’t need to pay for, especially since he’d promised to hire me again next time he was in town. In fact, he’d even suggesting flying me across the country to spend evenings with him elsewhere. With the kids and trying to keep my moonlighting secret, out of state trips would have proven difficult. However, I was certainly keen and said I’d think about it. In any case, he insisted on paying for the additional thirty minutes, and while his hand was in his wallet he grabbed some cash for my cab fare.
By the time I wandered into my kitchen and poured myself a mug of herbal tea, the effects of the alcohol had well and truly worn off. However, I was not as tired as I’d expected to feel. In fact, quite the reverse, I was wide awake. I felt energized, I was on a strange kind of high, the like of which I’d never known.
Never in my wildest dreams had I expected to actually enjoy selling my body. Never had I imagined that a man who pays women for sex, could be a more tender, considerate and affectionate lover than my own husband. David was possibly better in bed than Paul had ever been; sex with him had definitely been better than the last few years with Paul.
More importantly, I told myself, I had a little over two thousand dollars in my purse. I’d need much more to be completely free of Paul, but it was a great start.
The positive experience with David had renewed my enthusiasm for the idea. Not all clients would be like him, that was obvious. But I’d learned something important about myself; I could do it. I could have sex with a stranger, sex with no real attachment. If I’d done it once, I could do it again. And, there was a chance that there were more David’s out there; more men who wanted an uncomplicated evening, but who still treated women with respect. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more it occurred to me that men who use escorts do view women with respect. It’s men who pick up any girl in a bar, tell her what she wants to hear, then disappears in the morning and spends the next month dodging her calls, who have little or no respect for women.
An escort’s clients are, at least, honest; they’re frank about what they want and they’re willing to pay a fair price for a girl’s time. The more I thought about it, the more I realized it wasn’t anything like as sleazy and degrading as I’d first assumed. Perhaps I was just trying to make myself feel better, because I was now one of those women I’d considered degraded, but I truly believe that my eyes had been opened that night.
And that wasn’t the only thing.
Sex had never been a particular preoccupation of mine. During the first stages of our adult relationship, Paul and I had sex quite frequently and I enjoyed it. I especially liked the fact that it seemed to make him so happy. However, I didn’t ‘get it’. I could not understand why women craved sex, why they would put themselves in dangerous situations to seek it out. It was fine; it was nice, but it wasn’t the earthshaking experience so many people seemed to think.
In the most unexpected of places, my earth had been shaken. I understood it now with a clarity I could never have believed. I had left David completely satisfied, relaxed and happier than I’d felt in months. But in the quiet of my kitchen, the desire was building already. Yes, I wanted the money, I wanted to secure a future for me and the children – those were my prime concerns.
But I’d be lying if I said the thrill of what I’d done hadn’t sparked a sort of addiction. I wanted more sex, uncomplicated sex with no attachments; pure pleasure without hurting anyone else.
To be continued…
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