Sunday, February 1, 2009

The Worst of Times

It's taken me a while to write about this, and I wasn't going to cause it's not really related to the sex work. I met a guy through a regular online ad and he ticked all of my boxes. We emailed back and forward and I made it clear I was not looking to hook up, but to date with view to relationship. He wanted the same, he said. It was all going swimmingly so we decided to have a very unusual first date. Beer and home made cookies in a park. I mean, I freakin' BAKED for this dude I was so excited.

We sat in the park for hours and hours and hours. Bonded, swapped stories. There were a couple of red flags I guess, but I chose to ignore them. He was so open minded and kinky and told me such out there stories I told him about the escort work. He didn't mind.

After it got dark we went to my house. Ordered pizza and sat and talked more. The neighbours were drunk and invited us over, so we went and played with their new litter of kittens. I was convinced this was going to be the start of something great.

We made out on my bed for ages. So much that I had pash rash for days afterwards - a peeling face. It didn't feel like sex work, it felt real.

So when he suggested I tie him up and "rape" him I was keen. A litle bit OMG about him being so kinky first off, but hey, I was up for it. He'd assured me that sleeping with him was not a sign it was just about sex. Yeah, go and groan dear reader, but I was in the moment.

That was when I thought it did feel like sex work. There were hardly any compliments about my body, and no touching or orgasm for me. He wanted me to call him a slut, and I did. But when he started to call me a slut, although I hadn't asked, I was a bit weirded out.

Still, he came and then we spooned. Back to feeling real. More kissing.

Imagine my surprise then when after a day or two of swapping texts he asked to come over for sex. I replied that I wasn't really looking for a fuck buddy, but he was welcome to take me out for dinner. He then asked if I'd consider a threesome. What. The. Fuck.

What part of all of those emails did he think mentioned a casual fuck? What part of the date did he take as a sign I would be cool with no follow up? Um, I'm guessing the sex. Doh.

Ouch. I was had. I shoulda known when he asked at the end how much I usually charge. Mother Fucker.

Goes to show I let my desire to find a boyfriend cloud my gut feeling and ignore red flags.

I told this story to Marina. She said two things that make it all better and made me laugh until Coke Zero came out my nose:

1) A man will eat a baby if he thinks you'll go to bed with him afterward.

2) I could salvage my self respect by emailing him an invoice. For sexual services rendered. And flour. For the cookies. With a note. "I hate you".

Ha! On the plus side, it goes to show that my emotions are not yet deadened by the sex work, and that I can get really really excited about a guy still!

I'm still a believer.

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