He settled the bill and we went off to find a bar, where he decided to try and read my palm. I said I didn’t believe in that sort of thing and told him it was really cheesy, but he could do it if he wanted, as long as he told me something he wouldn’t have been able to know any other way. Realising that I wasn’t going to be impressed he looked at my palm and said I had a good long lifeline, and that was as far as it went.
I subtracted a point for that, and he looked a bit put out, and said that he wasn’t going to do it, if I was scoring him. It was just supposed to be a bit of fun. He said he’d written a song about me, and then he sang a bit adding my name in the lyrics. I’m sure he used the same song and changed the name of the girl! It was all getting a bit much and came across as sheer desperation. With the writing, the bands, the song, the chess, the art, the martial arts, the church, palm reading… he was trying too hard!
Then we went to a karaoke bar that I had never been in before. It was a bit dingy and we were definitely overdressed. I started to feel quite tipsy and decided to make a quick exit before I embarrassed myself. We had just finished our drinks and I remember saying to Kenneth that I had to go, and within two minutes I was in a cab and off on my way home! I think I must have just pecked him on the cheek and dived into a cab, and afterwards I felt really bad because he’d put so much effort into the evening and I’d run off just like Cinderella.
But I soon discovered that people can go from hero to zero in less than a week. I had the most bizarre experience with him a few days later. I’d invited him round to watch a DVD and have a bite to eat; I decided I wouldn’t put any make-up on, so that he could just see me as I was. After all, we were only watching a DVD! I was looking forward to a nice relaxed and chilled evening. The buzzer rang at 7p.m. on the dot, and I was horrified to see he was wearing a suit. I wondered if he had come straight from work, but I doubted it. Suddenly, I felt really self-conscious. There was me, in a hooded top, with jeans, slippers and no make-up, and there he was in a suit and tie, just to come round for a DVD. Immediately, I thought, idiot! The bow tie and suit was kind of cool on our night out, but this was ridiculous.
I let him in and at once apologised for my appearance. He said he’d been in the pub across the road because he’d arrived half an hour early (why?), and I took his jacket and hung it up. It was all very formal. He looked eager, almost wired. I’d seen that look before, the look of desperation that I sometimes see in my work, and it made me feel sick. He was almost standing on top of me and I was so shocked I didn’t say anything, which is unusual for me.
I offered him a drink and he followed me to the kitchen, hovering in my personal space. I mentioned his suit, and he asked if I wanted him to take his tie off. I said yes, and he said that he didn’t know how to. Pass me the sick bucket! He was standing ridiculously close me, blocking my exit, and asking me to take his tie off for him. Oh, please! I bustled past him, and said that he must know how to take his own tie off. He was still right on top of me, and I hated it. How could I have got him so wrong? He was cheesy beyond belief!
The eagerness in his eyes made me feel really uncomfortable, but then he said he felt nervous. I asked him why, but I could tell that it was because he obviously had other motives apart from just watching a film. I told him he looked like he was expecting something, and I said if he was waiting for me to strip his clothes off and take him to bed, he was sadly mistaken.
I know a lot of women say no and then give in, but I was straight with him and said that I just wanted to get to know him. By now, I could tell it was all an act – there were so many things about him that just didn’t ring true. He was trying to be ‘into’ everything, and it was all so false
After we’d eaten, we went to watch the film. He sat right next to me, far too close; it made me feel really uncomfortable. Thankfully, after the film he said he had to go, because he was going to Turkey for a martial arts presentation. Whatever! He reckoned he wanted to retire in the next couple of years and that, aside from his job at the bank, he sold racehorses. Afterwards, I relayed the goings-on to a few friends, and the more I thought about it, the more I knew he was a bit weird. Thankfully, I never heard from him again.
While telling the story to my friend Keith, he just laughed and said that on a third date, he would definitely have thought he was ‘in there’, being asked round to my house. I just don’t get it! I asked him whether he’d still think that if he’d been told nothing was going to happen, and he said that yes, he would probably still expect to end up having sex. Are men really that stupid?
CHAPTER 24:
Being single isn’t so bad after all! Sigh…
Recently I met up with James, my ex, in London when I was working for a few days. My job was for two nights, but the guy had business meetings all day, leaving me the time free, thankfully, to entertain myself. James was working in a bar and was free during the day. We met for a coffee, and then went to a restaurant, where he said he would treat me to lunch. I think that’s the only time he’s ever offered to take me out, even when we were dating!
We ordered, and while we waited for our food, he told me he was now single, and that he would like to sleep with me and that he still really fancied me. I’d kind of forgotten about having sex with him, but agreed to it in principle, at some point. He suggested we went back to his that day. Unbelievable! Absolutely not, I said. I was working, but I told him that in a few weeks we could properly arrange a night of passion. He told me he worried about me because of my job. It was lovely for him to be concerned, but I found it extremely patronising, considering I’m a very careful and sensible person, and he is not. I was due to meet him the other week and when I called, he said he’d woken up under someone’s table after a drunken night and couldn’t remember how he got there!
After a lovely meal, we got the bill and he suggested we pay half each. I smiled to myself – so much for my ‘treat’! He was still making false promises. The idea of having sex with him was becoming less appealing. Because of how he was being, I didn’t find him attractive at all – it just shows you how women generally need to be stimulated mentally before they can physically fancy someone.
We went to a bar for a few drinks. Knowing I would be drinking later, I stuck to soft drinks, but he kept trying to force me to have some alcohol. I stuck to my guns, however, and had cranberry juice. He then tried to be all ‘couply’ with me and put his arms around me; I really didn’t feel comfortable. I got a call for work, and he asked me not to answer it. I didn’t, but not because of him – I wanted to see if they left a message. He then tried to persuade me not to go back to my job, saying he would take the night off, if I did. Yeah right, I lose out on £1,000 and damage my reputation, and he loses out on £40 and keeps his job? Let me think about that one!
I couldn’t bear to be with him any longer, so I said I had to go. He walked me back some of the way and left me at a shop that I wanted to browse in. We stood in the doorway and he went to kiss me goodbye. I pecked him, but he wanted a snog. There was no way I was going to do that in public, so I pecked him again and he went off in a sulk, saying that I wouldn’t even give him a proper kiss. I remembered yet again what I’d had to put up with for all those years!
The most recent man that I slept with outside work was when I went to the Grand Prix in May last year. My friend and I met a bunch of guys in a bar in Monaco. They were all successful businessmen, aged between about 40 and 60 – the kind of guys I usually see for work. They were lovely guys and bought us loads of drinks. By the end of the night we were quite tipsy and they invited us to their boat, saying that we wouldn’t get a taxi home. My friend didn’t want to go, but I managed to convince her by organising for us to have a room to ourselves. The boat had six bedrooms and was huge! In the morning, we both had hangovers and stayed on the boat for breakfast. The guys then suggested we stayed for the day while they were out at the racing, so they went off, leaving us with passes to get back to the port area.
We did a bit of shopp
ing and then just sunbathed on the deck. Eventually they came back on board and kindly asked us to join them for dinner that evening. We’d bought a bottle of champagne because we didn’t want them to think we were taking advantage, but when we presented it, one of the guys said, ‘I don’t know why you bought this – we already have a hundred bottles!’
Then one of them came up behind me, slipped his hands around my waist and kissed me on the lips. I was taken aback that he was so forward and instantly felt uncomfortable. Also, I was racking my brains to work out whether I’d done anything the night before to encourage that sort of intimacy. I was tipsy, so I was struggling to remember, but then it came back to me: he had tried to kiss me when we got back to the boat, and I’d just gone with the flow and snogged him. For me, that was quite full-on, not my usual behaviour outside of work! Once you’ve crossed the barrier into the intimacy zone, it’s difficult to pull back and I silently cursed myself. He was an extremely funny and charismatic guy, and if he hadn’t been such a fast mover, I know he would have definitely grown on me.
I decided to switch into work mode, which was totally out of character for me – I just accepted this was going to be the deal, if we wanted to stay on the boat. It was very bizarre. I knew I would end up sleeping with him and that it was my choice, but I didn’t really want it to happen – not because I didn’t like him, but because I didn’t know him, so it felt like work.
That evening, my friend and I told the guys we were escorts. One guy’s jaw just hit the floor! Apparently they’d had Brazilian hookers on the boat previously, and probably thought we didn’t look like ‘those’ sort of girls, which of course we weren’t (we weren’t even looking for work!). We tried to explain how what we did was different since we both specialised in longer meetings and dates, and both offered the GFE.
I suppose, like most men, the guy I was with must have thought I was some kind of nymphomaniac because of my job. For the rest of the trip, I ended up sharing his room and I had sex with him, but it felt like it was expected of me. He expected me to perform for him to get his rocks off, yet I was getting nothing out of it at all.
Back in the UK, I met up with him a couple of times and explained how I thought we had rushed into things and it wasn’t ‘me’ just to meet a guy and sleep with him. I told him the last guy I had slept with (because work doesn’t count) was my ex, who I saw on and off for two years. It soon fizzled out anyway, though, because it turned out he was married and I have no interest in sleeping with a married guy unless I’m being paid.
Recently, I thought about seeing a male escort and trawled the Internet for a suitable candidate, but I couldn’t quite find what I was looking for. Saying that, I also wasn’t sure exactly what I wanted, but I came up with the following list:
• Reasonably good looking
• Nice, toned body, but not OTT body builder type
• Friendly face
• Someone with reviews would be nice, but there are no review sites for straight guys
• A guy who’s 100% straight. I wouldn’t want someone bi; it would need to be someone who loves ladies only.
In reality, while I find the whole idea intriguing, it’s also bloody scary! My main fear is that they might fall short of my high expectations. The only promising candidate was Australian Ben – although he wasn’t usually a type that I would go for in my personal life, he seemed to fit the bill. The only drawback was that he was listed on one of the sites as being bi. Most sites said he was straight, but the majority of guys on escort sites are gay or bisexual. He was tall, fair, reasonably good looking with a toned body, and he seemed to be on quite a lot of escort sites; I got the feeling he’d been around for a while.
I decided to email and see if he really was bi. I always imagine that bi men can’t really be that into women’s bodies – I don’t know why I think that, especially as I’m a bi woman who loves men! I told him I was looking for him to meet with me and my boyfriend, and that I’d like a threesome, which would involve him giving my boyfriend oral sex. I was being very blunt, I know, but it was the only way I could find out if he was really bi. He said he wasn’t into that sort of thing and wasn’t what I was looking for, so I immediately wrote back and said that actually, he was exactly what I was looking for: a straight guy. It turned out he wasn’t even aware that he’d been listed as being bi.
It would cost me £500 for him to travel to Nottingham and stay overnight. This seemed like a lot of money – that’s two pairs of Gucci shoes or a weekend away! I’d have been totally gutted if I’d spent all that money and not felt truly satisfied with my experience. It made me appreciate the gamble my clients take, especially those not that well-off, although they can read about other people’s experiences with me, so they do have an idea what to expect from a date. I wondered how I would feel about paying for companionship; it would be weird to see the roles reversed – I’d be so nervous, and it would be odd to hand the envelope over and have the guy counting the money. I’d be totally out of my depth. For once I wouldn’t feel in control, and that was a scary thought.
I’d want him to offer exactly what I don’t – I’d want him to stay at mine, get a takeaway, and then spend the night making love. I wouldn’t want him to do a ‘me’ and say we had to go out for dinner, or want to go to sleep at 12.30, or stick a snore strip on my nose, telling me not to disturb him in the night! Although I have to say, if I had him as a client, I would probably bend my usual strict rules and routine. In the end, I decided the experience wasn’t really for me, so I didn’t go for it.
CHAPTER 25:
It ain’t all glamour…
I’ve had some embarrassing dates in my time. I once met a client at his home for a dinner date, and as I’d planned to drive home that night, I drove us to the restaurant. He directed me to a place in a small village, about five minutes away, which looked very nice from the outside. The food was lovely and we chatted away about our hobbies.
Suddenly I realised that my nose was dripping. He carried on talking and I was trying to sniffle away quietly, waiting for a break in the conversation to nip to the loo for some tissue. That break never came, so I had to interrupt, excuse myself and nip upstairs. When I sat back down to dinner, my stomach felt very bloated, like I really did need the loo. I was trying to keep focused on what he was saying, because I thought he might think I was a coke addict if I went to the loo again!
I attempted to take my mind off it, but my body had other ideas and I had to interrupt him again. This time, I made up a silly excuse about forgetting to go to the loo when I went to blow my nose, and got up from the table. Upstairs, it was very clear that something hadn’t agreed with me. I could have stayed there for ages, but conscious of leaving him waiting I just hoped I’d be OK until I got back to my ex’s house, where I was staying that evening to break up my journey.
When I went back to the table, I thanked him for the meal and we left the restaurant. As a hint, I mentioned that I had cramps in my tummy and when we got back to his place, I had to go again. I was terrified he would hear me as the bathroom was opposite his bedroom, and I was also worried about the smell. I was doubled over on the loo – it was horrible! I knew I’d have to go again, but I really wanted to be able to hold it off until I’d sorted him out. I was mortified when he went in the loo after me to brush his teeth, and I tried to look all sexy on the bed when he came out, but I just wanted to be home in bed. I knew he would have let me go, but I didn’t want to disappoint him.
Somehow, I managed to hold off going to the loo while we played in bed. Almost as soon as I’d sorted him out, my cramps started again; I had to admit that I had a dodgy tummy and really wasn’t well. I asked if I could shut the bedroom door while I went to the loo again. He thoughtfully fetched me an air freshener, but the whole episode was so embarrassing – I had never even met the guy before and I stank out his bathroom! I went back to the bedroom and hoped there would be no more. Though I was dreading the journey home, I snuggled up to him and we cha
tted. He said that even though I was poorly, he’d still had a lovely time and that he definitely wanted to see me again, and that next time it would be for an overnight. Sorted!
There’s a lovely guy I’ve seen a few times who’s 34, and he has learning difficulties. He’s overweight and has a slight problem with B.O., and he wears glasses and has yellow teeth. He’s a really sweet guy, but I have absolutely no idea where he gets his money from – as far as I know he only does voluntary work!
One night I accepted an overnight date with him. He wanted to take me to see Beyoncé in concert in Nottingham. He wore a smart suit with a tie – it looked totally out of place at the concert, bless him, but I did tell him he looked very smart! I arrived wearing tight jeans and boots, so we looked a bit odd together.
We ate in one of my favourite restaurants and then made our way to the concert nice and early; we were seated in the main area in front of the stage. There were some steps down to our seating area and Jack looked a bit uneasy, so I asked if I could help him. I took his water and was about to give him a shoulder to grab onto, when suddenly he pulled away and said, ‘This is a bit embarrassing.’ He proceeded to sit at the top of the stairs and bump down them on his bottom!
I tried hard not to giggle, because it did look quite comical. I wasn’t aware he had any problems with stairs, so I just stood there bewildered, not quite sure what to do. Everyone turned around to watch him bumping down the stairs like a baby. Thankfully, after a few moments the staff noticed and two of them rushed to his aid. I felt a bit silly because if I’d known, I could have got help for him, but it all happened so quickly and he didn’t even give me a chance. We were sitting about 20 rows back, but we did have a good view. He explained that there was something wrong with his feet, so he was unsteady on them. I expect most of the people there must have thought I was his carer, but he’s very sweet and I genuinely enjoy our dates.
The Girlfriend Experience Page 29