I just want to feel alive again.
I don’t want to be alone in this house anymore while my fiancé works 6 hours away.
It hurts. There’s a hole in my chest and it wont end anytime in the forseeable future.
It was easy enough. I answered an ad from Craigslist of a guy looking for “adult models”. I knew exactly what the job entailed and what I’d be getting myself into. After some back and forth emailing, I’d agreed to meet him at a bakery for an “interview” a couple days later. Of course I was nervous, but my curiosity definitely quelled any doubts for the time being.
The interview went as expected. He didn’t ask me anything about myself. He just wanted me to know how we’d get started and the rules of his operation. He ended the interview with me standing up and twirling around so he could get a better look at my figure. He hugged me (probably to get a feel for my shape, since what I was wearing wasn’t the most flattering to my body) and we split ways, promising to keep in touch.
About a week later, I contacted him and told him I’d be willing to start with the photos that would go on the website. I met him and another one of his escorts at a hotel and stripped down to some lingerie that he told me to wear for the shoot. He had a backdrop and four strobes. For a one-man operation, he seemed like he’d been doing this awhile. He had been drinking before I got there and he wasn’t even trying to hide it. He asked me if I wanted to join in, but I was planning on driving home, so I politely declined. We took at least sixty shots of my body contorted into the most uncomfortable positions with my face shrouded by my hair for anonymity’s sake. I got dressed and set up the pre-paid phone I would be using only for clients.
As I was doing this, the other escort was getting irate with him, probably because it was pretty late in the night and she wasn’t getting any calls. She left and he started to complain about how she’s the worst girl he has on his roster. She complains, she’s headstrong, she’s overweight, she’s mentally unstable.. At this point, he had been drinking for awhile and smoking cigarette after cigarette. He asked me if I was hungry, so we ordered take out and talked about the business.
I decided to stay later so we could set up my profile, but he ended up complaining about her the entire time I was there. Around 3am, I decided that it was too late for me to drive home, so I lay down on the bed and turned on the TV. He lay down next to me and we talked about the girls that would be coming the next day. Somehow, I became his confidant. He told me about these girls and I psychoanalyzed them. He told me I was the smartest girl he had ever met in the escorting business and that I would go far with just my intellect.
This would have been extremely flattering, had it not been for his hands wrapped around my waist and the extreme smell of desperation in the air. I rejected his advances for the night, telling him that he could only hug me - nothing more. This seemed to please him enough, so that’s how we spent the rest of the night.. his arms wrapped around my belly and the remote control in my hand. I watched television while he slept, not knowing if he would wake up and try to take advantage of me.
At 8am, I decided enough was enough and I should go home. I put on my scarf and heels and made my way to the door. He stopped me at the door and asked that I give him a hug goodbye and come back soon to start working. He stole a kiss on my cheek as we hugged and I left.
My escort life hasn’t started yet, but if my first night has taught me anything, it is that a good conversation and companionship is just as satisfying to a desperate man as a good lay in bed.