Tuesday, 23 June 2015

Writing


Everyday I write the book by Elvis Costello

I once met a music industry dude who I enjoyed discussing the art of playlists with.  I boldly asked him to compile a mix tape for me off the top of his head based on what he knew of me.  Second on his playlist was one of my favourites, Everyday I Write The Book by Elvis Costello and the Attractions.  Nice choice.

I have always loved words, the sound of them, the meaning.  I was talking about this with a young relative who said they hated the word moist.  It's so drippy.  I like that about it though, it feels warm and possibly a bit dirty.  We both agreed the word cherish is beautiful: the sound of it with the ch and the sh at the ends, and the meaning of encompassing care and affection.

Imagine a group of genteel Christian ladies enjoying their afternoon tea at the house of one of them, only to hear a little red haired girl chanting some newly acquired vocabulary as she jumped on a bed in a next door room.  "Shit!"  "Damn!"  "Shit!"  "Damn!"  "Shit!"  "Damn!"  Obviously the meanings were unknown to the child, but she definitely knew that the use of such words was forbidden and they certainly earned a hasty reaction.

I can't remember a time I haven't written or enjoyed words, or writing about sex.  It has got me in for trouble at times.  In primary school, we made our stories into booklets and they were hung around the class - being so prolific, mine dominated the walls.  My first attempt at the genre of erotica was intercepted by my Form 2 teacher, who confiscated it and made me retrieve it from the staffroom a few days later.  I hope they enjoyed it.  It wasn't bad, but was mainly limited to masturbation, voyeurism and breast play in its content, due to my limited life experience.  A few years later, I wrote to a boy who I exchanged letters with (which is what people were in the habit of doing as there was no such thing as email, facebook or texting).  In the letter I described an intimate encounter we had enjoyed in my distinctive schoolgirl handwriting.  This letter was found by his mother.  Oh dear.  Writing things down was not always a good thing.

I still love dirty words, words so filthy they could harbour bacteria.  I write this blog about sex work.  I sext with clients (I offer it as part of my phone sex service).  But I also inoffensively flirt with strangers.  A few words delivered in a certain way can say a lot.  If you doubt me, consider the delivery of the song, I'll Take Care of You, by two different artists.  Etta James' version is full of intimate promise, she's sensuous.  Gil Scott-Heron's version is about protection, he's bruised.

There is usually a tumble of words in my head, like everyone, they are called thoughts, our own personal commentary of life.  Because my life is so concerned right now with sex, because I have so much of it, at least more than the average woman my age, due to my occupation as a sex worker, I enjoy many delicious thoughts consisting of words about sex.  I like to stay present in my body during intimacy and describe each sensation to myself, sometimes recalling the phrases later, and tying each feeling in with each word.  I love to give words real meaning in this way.  Not just while cavorting naked, whereever I am, I am naturally observant, always defining what I see, giving it to myself.

There are another couple of things I enjoy writing about, including one which is related to a university qualification I have and another is erotica, poles apart from the first.  I write under noms de plume, for privacy, but also because each of the names I write with produce different work.  I do not claim that what I write is high-brow literature, it's open to ridicule.  Do I care?  Not about this.  I write with a half-smile at all times.  I am smiling because I enjoy it, because it's a little subversive and because I still delight in being so darn naughty.  I've never stopped being that troublesome girl.  Let the alarmable be alarmed.  Let the critical critique.  I'll keep writing.

Many sex workers and ex-sex workers write autobiographically about sex work nowadays.  It's good for us, it is good for readers, to demystify our work.  I was surprised when I was researching images about some of the places I wrote about in my ship girl post that there was no material about it online anywhere.  In my opinion, this is important historical information.

Then I read a piece on the Wellington sex industry of old in Fishhead, saying that ship girls did not receive money, they just went on to ships to party.  It is not true in all cases.  We ship girls who slept with Japanese seamen most definitely received money, in fact it was very well organised - right down to the set amount to be charged - considering we did not have middle men to tell us how to do things and look after us.  The story in the magazine was half-true though as the ladies who went on boats with Caucasians did not receive payment, those ship molls were not actually prostitutes.  I found this out for myself when I went on a Russian ship one day.  I did have a nice time, but not a cent was earned that night.  Sex workers writing down their experiences dispels myths.  And it's good for us to straighten out our thoughts about what we are doing and have done.

If you are familiar with Julia Cameron's book, The Artist's Way, which I recommend every sort of artist keep a copy of, she prescribes three pages of longhand writing every morning to keep ones creativity lubricated, first thing, on awakening.  I love to do this myself.  Morning is my favourite time to write.  I write a lot, especially in the very early morning before work when the city is quiet, until it begins to buzz awake.  Other writer friends of mine use voice recorders so that phrases they like do not escape, but I keep a little Moleskine with me at all times.  Even when I am out walking, I will stop and write something that comes to mind.


So how do I write?  I start with one thought then spill it all out in one go.  This technique is known as free writing.  It is useful even for university assignments - I was mostly a straight A student - but it is an especially fun way to write erotic stories.  I write with no judgment whatsoever, I just get it all down.  I then go back and edit and delete.  Sometimes I choose to use the same phrases throughout a story just because I like the sound of them.  For example, my favourite words for genitals are cock and pussy, if you haven't noticed.  I like them for their actual meanings, and that literally a cock: proud, angular, with a spiky beak, and pussy: soft cuddly, fluffy but with scratchy claws do not work in actuality together, but are a perfect colloquial fit in heterosexual sex, in my opinion.  I like that they are so 1970s corny porn-ish.  I just love a cock and a pussy.  Another phrase I love is soft and wet.  Soft, wet.  I use those words a lot, in that order.  Here are some more I find quite evocative:  Rock hard.  Throb.  Juicy.  Moist.  Twitch.

If you find what I write a bit much, feel free to skip it.  Otherwise, the future may hold something of interest for you.  Read on.

Monday, 15 June 2015

Is your heart safe?


Can sex work involve real affection or is one or both parties just being played?

I don't consider whatever feelings I've ever had or that have ever been declared to me during sex work 'true love', whatever the fuck that is, but I think the euphoria is a blissful experience to be enjoyed while it lasts, made from the chemistry of two people who initially hit it off in the boudoir, and it can grow over time into a friendship.  Clients are not really seen by sex workers nowadays as cardboard cutout clients as a whole, and I personally love getting to know them as the individuals they are with their quirks, kinks and sense of humour as we relax into each other's company.  I feel a great deal of fondness for most of the clients which I have a beautiful connection with and often the sentiment is returned.  I enjoy it, I think it's quite natural and I don't have a problem with it.  I'm pretty fickle though, if I get the slightest hint that I am being played, that sweet feeling can instantly dissolve.  I consider the suggestion of freebies, (after all I still need to make a living, bills to pay etc), the first sign of this, or asking for favours such as not using protection or whatever.

Some would consider that a sex worker actually feeling affection towards her clients is unprofessional, but sex workers have a right to enjoy their work and one way to do this is to find your clients likable, enjoy their company and naturally in sex work, their sexual desires.  In fact, unless you approach sex work completely robotically ("clinically") it is difficult not to.  If you look for the good in people, you will usually find it.  It's no more inappropriate to like ones clients, to a point, as a sex worker, than it is for a counsellor to like his or her clients, or a child care worker to genuinely care for the children in his or her care - in fact for anyone in business to care about and like their clients and want to serve them the best way they can.  Obviously these are parallel occupational comparisons, I am not saying that sex workers' clients necessarily need to have someone to talk to, or to be infantilised, unless that is a particular kink of theirs of course.

I have also heard a couple of clients tell me stories of sex workers they have become attached to over time - everything is rosy, fine and dandy, and then the sex worker will hit a crisis in her life, like a relative will get a health condition and a car will be needed or something like that.  I've never actually known anyone who has hit up a client for financial help, but when I've been told about clients who have helped ladies with "loans", or been asked to, unsurprisingly it has not worked out well.  I do feel that was a bad move, but I was regularly told as a child by a wise elderly lady: "never a lender or a borrower be" so I would be unlikely to do it.  It must be really disappointing for a client who thinks they have a nice friend in this understanding, loving sex worker, then she hints she needs some dosh, out of the kindness of his heart he offers to lend it to her, never to be repaid - just to think how I'd feel gives me a sinking feeling - it must hurt.  However generally speaking there is no real reason sex workers and clients can't form honest and affectionate ongoing "friendships," as defined by themselves, including ones which are mutually beneficial.

When I was a young bimbo, (and my god! What a bimbo I was) I was totally awestruck/lovestruck by a beautiful gay man, without knowing he was gay initially, who was part of an intimidating circle of talented young artists, writers and actors that I happened upon the edge of.  They were all brimming with good looks, style and amazingness (they still are) and I felt way out of my comfort zone, not to mention my league.  Having been a red-haired dork girl during my childhood, albeit a pretty one, I was unaccustomed to the ways of the cool kids.  He and his friends were all so sweet to me despite the fact that I clearly wasn't his sort and he could have been a total humiliating ass to me as my vulnerable heart dangled on a string before him, just for the laugh of it, but he was far too high-minded for that and we became great friends.  I always look back at how graciously he treated my unrequited love and have vowed that should the boot ever be on the other foot, that I would handle the situation with as much magnanimity.

In contrast to the lovely group of people as described above, I also used to know some crims back in the day who actually used to say "kindness is a weakness" and look for any opportunity to rip someone off.  I witnessed people being kind enough to welcome them into their houses, where the robbers would be looking around at valuable belongings and casing for weaknesses in the property's security, in case they decided to come back later and break into the place, that is actually how their thought processes worked and what their conversations would consist of, not that they trusted even each other as far as they could kick them to not rip each other off should they participate in any criminal arrangements together anyway.  I think people who misuse the affection other people feel for them are no better really.  I have no place for people like that in my life, sex workers who do it, or clients either.  My feelings for the moment are genuine, and I would be insulted if anyone was to suggest otherwise, likewise, inspired by my gay friend who I mentioned above, anyone professing such feelings would be treated with the same gentleness and kindness, which I would want to be treated with until the feeling ran its course, as it eventually does.  The feelings do not really have real or permanent intentions behind them in a transactional interaction, but they are there as an expression of enjoyment as much as anything.

I don't see the modern sex worker as just a purveyor of sexual services, but for some clients she is a multi-layered and reliable comfort, like a loving and caring sexual dance partner for now in this part of someone's life.  (That is, if they want it and if they connect.  It's not compulsory either.)

Tuesday, 2 June 2015

Me as Mrs Jones, a MILF

MILF, Ms O'Hara, has a thing going on with a number of young and young-at-heart men

My non-Amber, slightly frumpy, mother-next-door self lives a double life as an insatiable MILF and this little secret injects a huge amount of spice into my life.

As Amber, I am ready in my boudoir wearing tiny corsets, stockings and sometimes long leopard-patterned fuck me boots with dangerously high heels.  Sometimes I wear a faux fur coat, which I am happy to urgently remove, revealing my delicate smalls.  I love to look through my wardrobe and choose from my lingerie, stockings and little dresses.  I have my favourites: fishnet thigh-highs are pleasing to run my hands over, as well as symbolic of bad girls, and anything black and lacy is elegant yet racy, perfect for my mood.

I love my shoes to be blingy and slutty, and I adore boots, especially over-the-knee ones which, showing just a small slice of a slender thigh, can't be anything but tantalising while even slightly practical with winter approaching.  I was just saying to a friend, as we were driving past street-based sex workers, that they could wear leg-warmers under their long boots and be perfectly warm.  Who knows, maybe they do?  However, in my closet, my collection of garments are chosen to be shed after only the briefest of moments, and practical knitted items do not feature.

Once alone together, due the exigent tasks ahead, including but not limited to fucking, I am soon parting my pale thighs to welcome the man-of-the-hour into my private world, where anything could happen, but whatever it is, it will most certainly be pleasurable with my tender guidance.

The thing about horny men which I love is their pressing desire for a woman.  Yes, I do love to take my time, encouraging a man to indulge and be indulged, but sometime that needs to be put aside for round two due to the insistence by ones loins for an immediate result.

And at the end of that never-long-enough time, we bid goodbye with flushed faces and a modest kiss ... until next time or maybe never again, just a fond memory.

It's so much fun to have a dirty secret, or to be someone's dirty secret.  I could pass my clients in the street and I probably wouldn't be noticed, or maybe a whiff of my perfume or an unintentional glimpse of my pearlescent decolletage would trigger a flashback of our encounter.  For while in my other life, my gentle self is more ordinary and practical, the same goes for my bedroom heroes - the men whose day-to-day existence includes achieving goals and meeting obligations.

A little escapism (mostly) never does anyone any harm.

Friday, 22 May 2015

Pleasure


Poor is the man*
Whose pleasures depend
On the permission of another
From Justify My Love by Madonna © 2006 WMG

Pleasure, according to a book I have been reading about women and aging, is something women deny themselves far more than is good for us.  Apparently there is something that is released in our bodies called Nitric Oxide (which is different from Nitrous Oxide, "laughing gas") when we laugh, orgasm, are in the flow of something we enjoy etc.  This quality, nitric oxide, is healing and anti-aging.


We women are apparently so busy doing good deeds for others that we neglect our own needs.  I don't think this is as common in my generation as it was in previous generations - my contemporaries are good with allowing themselves things which are pleasurable: an extra chocolate biscuit, new pair of shoes, or at the other end of the scale, nice car, boob job or impulse trip to the Pacific Islands.  Having said that though, there is also pleasure to be had in causing pleasure for others.  Maybe that is a motivating factor in altruism.


I was recently talking about pleasure in relationship sex (as opposed to sex as an escort) with an escort friend of mine, who happens to be part of a loving relationship, and she told me that in the past she would forego orgasms from her partner's efforts for a number of reasons, including it was taking too long and it was too difficult to correct his erroneous touching or licking, she'd grown bored or tired, and the moment had passed so he may as well have his orgasm and she would do without.  Almost altruistic, like giving away the bigger piece of pie.  Fortunately she has come to a place with her new lover where she is open to teaching what is right for her particular body and their pleasure is usually mutual.

Escort sex of course is a different ball game as the escort is paid to provide pleasure for the client, so escorts do not necessarily expect any for themselves.  Providing pleasure can sometimes mean that we get to cater to a variety of different tastes and kinks, which is an interesting kind of altruistic pleasure for an escort in itself.  In addition to that, most men enjoy oral sex on them, and sometimes providing pleasure to their sexual partner, even if, in this case, she is an escort.  

Back in the day escorts weren't expected to be allowed actual pleasure of their own and many choose to deny themselves pleasure which took time to reach, faking it for similar reasons I've touched on above.  However, among the escorts I discuss sex work with, there seems to be a new kind of liberation, and a decision to allow ourselves this unique kind of job satisfaction - who knows, maybe it's just because we can relax more now that it's legal.  Of course there are cynics who accuse those who enjoy sex work of "pretending to be nymphos," but the range of pleasure available in sex work is surely a continuum anyway.  Whether it is the pleasure of taking in the visual feast of a fine specimen of a naked man laid out before us, or allowing oral on us with encouragement and subtle teaching to suit our needs.

Sexual pleasure included on the days we work is surely one of the perks of the job.  Sadly not everyone is lucky enough to have a string of delicious men arriving to please them, or even a single one in their private life.  In which case, there is of course the type of pleasure we can do on our own.



* The above quote of course is equally applicable to women, so the image, while mainly depicting a man experiencing pleasure, includes the stockinged thigh of a woman, the implication being obvious.

Wednesday, 13 May 2015

Touring Roundup

The Canterbury Plains from the air

I have recently completed a wee bit of touring and I thought I would post a few thoughts here.

A number of you read my post where I mentioned an incident at a motel, and attention was brought to other incidents where touring working girls had left without paying or had been having problems.  I have since been speaking to a number of moteliers and heard that this is disappointingly commonplace among working girls.  It's a disgrace is all I can say.  The ultimate in cheapskateness - revolting.  Even our fabulous working girl-friendly motelier in Dunedin is allowing fewer working girls to use his accommodation because of the number of WGs, who use designated rooms with discreet access, who have done a runner without paying.

I myself had something quite embarrassing happen at a place I have worked from several times with great parking and private access for clients but where I had never actually disclosed I was "working" - I thought they may be aware but turning a blind eye as previously I had requested extra towels without a problem.  This particular time I asked the housekeeping for extra towels and the woman, around my age, said "you have already had five extra towels and I won't be giving you any more."  I said I was quite happy to pay for them, but she got up from where she was making the bed and came over to me and loudly said, "you've also had a lot of visitors."  "Is that a problem?" I enquired.  She replied, "are you a working girl?"  "Is that a problem?" I repeated.  "I will have to check with my General Manager," she replied rather threateningly.

This conversation happened in front of all the house keeping staff and it took all I had to turn and walk back to my room with my head held high.  She must have been on the phone to the GM immediately, because she came fairly quickly to my room with 5 extra towels and said the general manager did not have a problem with me being here, but to let her know in advance if I needed more towels as they would have to order them in.  However, the fact that she had been observing comings and goings and judging left me feeling rather soiled.  Thank god for an open-minded general manager, who would have checked and seen that I have paid for at least 14 nights there in the past without an issue.  At least after that, housekeeping kept a low profile and gave me towels without question.

It also made me feel a new appreciation for moteliers who, without a fuss, let us work from their establishments.  In any business, we need our suppliers to like us, so we need to pay them and do the right thing by them.  For example, an ice cream business is not going to get on very well if they don't pay the ice cream cone suppliers as they will stop supplying them cones and if word spreads around the other cone suppliers that they do not pay their bills, the other suppliers will also not sell them cones.  They may switch to serving icecreams in paper cups (which would probably cost more than cones) but again, if they don't pay for them, that supply will also soon also dry up.  So it is with moteliers and other working girl accommodation - they facilitate what we do, without them, we will all be doing outcalls or working from the streets, where there are increased dangers.

On my travels, I have also met quite a few twitter, facebook and forum members and it is always a pleasure to put a face (etc) to the name.  I have never had any problem with anyone from these networks asking for illegal or "special" services, unless they are the same ones that still text or call asking for this, although none of those texters have had the audacity to let me know that we are connected online in this way in order to get special treatment or imply they will review me negatively if not given it, as I have heard others have attempted to do.  Thankfully the ones from these online communities I have met are far too classy for those kind of dodgy goings on and really the try-it-ons among these punters who belong to the said networks should know better, as there is always talk on forums etc about which services are illegal as well as etiquette and kind advice around using escort services. Recently a few working girls asserted their opinions on a forum at this kind of almost standover tactic, when an attempt to do so was called out by a brave newcomer.

To be fair though, so far, I have found all these people from facebook, twitter or forums that I've met turned out to be real sweethearts, including the other ladies, and other clients who I have not had bookings with but met socially.  What do we talk about?  Well, twitter, facebook, and forums of course: the crazy, the sweet, the hot and the funny tweets and threads and participants.

A couple of gentlemen sent some nice accounts of our intimate time together in the form of reviews for my website, which can be an erotic trip down memory lane for me, since I know the details of our encounters. However, just in case I'm getting a bit too big for my britches with all this lovely attention from men in my boudoir and the occasional comment about my youthful countenance, some humourous things happened on this tour to bring me back to earth. For example, a man called and, on ascertaining I was a 50 year old who charges $200 for an hour, replied that I was "dreaming" and that he "wouldn't root a sheep for $200", implying a sheep would be preferable to a 50 year old escort.  I was not at all offended though and maybe you had to be there and have heard it for yourself, as the mental image of this gruff-voiced man attempting to pay a sheep $200 to shag him caused me to roll on the bed laughing (notwithstanding sympathy for the poor sheep, of course) whenever it came to mind over the evening.

Another young man, whose location and nationality will remain secret, came and saw me and asked me if he could call me grandma while we fucked. (Of course I let him.  I love indulging clients' fantasies and kinks.)  I'm not quite ready to go from advertising as a MILF to GILF but I thought it was quite fun all the same.  Maybe I do seem pretty ancient, where's that face cream?  Actually, despite him requesting that, which some ladies could have considered an insult, our time together was especially steaming-up-the-windows hot.  I also loved him snuggling into my tender, matronly bosom when it was over.  Vive la sexwork!

Even though, due to other commitments at home, I can now no longer tour for more than 2 or 3 days at a time, I still intend to explore the country.  I am now home in Christchurch until mid-June, perhaps with the occasional day trip to nearby places such as Timaru and Ashburton once appropriate working girl-friendly accommodation is found which I can confidently return to without issue (and maybe even a night or two in Nelson, which I missed this trip).  I am happy to bring my own towels as I will be likely travelling in my own vehicle so if you would like to host me in small, nearby towns, please get in touch.  Meanwhile, my clients in Christchurch know that when I am back, even if not currently advertising, I will always fit them in if they wish to come up and see me.  Bookings in advance are always honoured.

I went to Blenheim, Wellington, Palmerston North and Queenstown and got treated like a lady by everyone who visited me.  Thanks so much for your support of myself and other touring girls.  We go to a bit of trouble to come to your towns and your booking us and treating us well will bring us back again.  So on that note, please keep checking my touring page if you would like to know when planned tours to your area get confirmed and I look forward to seeing you again then.

Friday, 24 April 2015

Ways to do sex work - part two (touring)

Beautiful Kaikoura on the east coast of the South Island, view from the beach during a brief train stop

Touring sex workers are a not-so-modern phenomenon but since the Prostitution Reform Act (2003) in New Zealand we are able to tour and sell our services in a much more organised manner.

I personally love to tour: I love to explore my beautiful country, in which I was fortunate to be born and therefore have free range of within the law and can come and go from as I please. I also like to meet men in different parts of the country, in their own environment, and love to discuss their local situation and gather tidbits about certain predominant industries within the various regions I visit, a great way to increase my general knowledge and have first hand information when related news items are published.

And while you can't really lump a group of people together by race or region, I do notice similarities with men from the same area, probably coincidental, but maybe not: The laid-back, slightly romantic lads from the South Island's West Coast as a whole are vastly different from the oxymoronically laid-back dudes with precise requests in Palmerston North; Wellingtonians have similarities to Dunedinites in their effortless coolness (and their houses and geography are even similar) and fabulous organisation skills - in both of these places I'm normally pre-booked for most of the first day before I even arrive; the gents from Invercargill have their own unique kinks and are quite different with their telephone use from those who have set up their lives temporarily or permanently in gorgeous places like Blenheim or Queenstown, which, possibly like the lives of the inhabitants, are a bit unpredictable and last-minute.

Do I have a favourite place to visit?  Yes, and the ones I do not prefer, I do not visit again, with the exception of Invercargill and Greymouth, where I adore the men, but the length of time and effort I need to make to get there (yes, I've got lazy) make it unlikely I would visit again, unless I had a pre-paid, multiple hour pre-booking or two, then I would be in either of these places in a flash.

And I just hinted at why some sex workers choose not to tour - because it can be expensive, exhausting and there are no guarantees.  As well as that, there are other issues, such as finding accommodation - there are no comforts like those you have set up at home.  I always miss my own boudoir, with everything in its place, and my nice shower with a removal shower head for play and practicality.

But I get an itch to explore my little corner of the world and have pretty much worked out effective packing strategies (my packing list system should be patented), advertising strategies as well as strategies for deciding where to go and when.  For example, when there is a local event (food or wine or music festival or some kind of sporting event) advice is often given to tour to the town at that time as it will be full of potential clients.  Wrong.  Accommodation will be scarce and all the locals and visitors will be busy at the event and spending their money there as well.  Either go the day before it starts, when early visitors may be at a loss for things to do after settling in, or the locals have set everything up and now have some built-up tension of the sexual kind to deal with to prevent them giving every event-attendee the lecherous glad eye due to extreme horniness, or even better, the day or two afterwards, when the visitors have gone and the locals have money to spend on their pleasure after working hard at the event, oh, and again there may be the sexual tension factor which needs to be dealt with, if they have been too busy to get some intimacy elsewhere.

Unfortunately, not everyone is welcoming when sex workers come calling and this is why I'm offering some guidelines* to the novice touring sex worker.  There have been a couple of unintentional near-disasters recently which have now resulted in a previously working girl-friendly accommodation option to be lost.

So what to do when a town does not have known working girl friendly accommodation?

Sometimes when ladies do not have motels to stay at where they can be open about being a sex worker, they stay there sneakily anyway and have to hope that the motelier does not become suspicious with all the male visitors and kick the sex worker out. After the effort and expense it takes to get to a town, this would not be fun.

Alternatively, you can book by phone and be upfront about being a working girl, but more often than not, moteliers have heard horror stories about touring working girls and would be reluctant to allow you to work from their premises.

This is why it's really important to do the right thing by our accommodation providers, whether they are rooms let to you in houses with other independent working girls or motels who are ok with what you do. To keep on their good side, please consider these suggestions.

A huge advantage with renting a room in a house or motel that is working girl-friendly is that they will provide the sheets and towels which are an extra bulk to carry around and try to get laundered otherwise. If the accommodation provider doesn't launder the linen, eg in a private house, please allow time in between clients to keep on top of the laundry as no one has an infinite supply of linen and clients need fresh towels and sheets. This will save you embarrassment later in the day when you could run out of supplies.

Don't look the part. Don't arrive or leave in your work clothes, don't sit outside (yes, it's been done) and don't go to a visible-to-the-neighbours washing line or back yard area in your lingerie or work clothes or advertise by your appearance what you do. The motelier may know you're a working girl but they will not want the neighbours or other guests to know as this could lose them their good reputation and business. It is also an indiscretion that is unfair to visiting clients, who want it to be as unnoticeable as possible that they are visiting a sex worker.

Don't give out the address to every caller until they have made a firm booking, and make sure the directions are clear so clients don't knock on the doors of the  neighbours. Some sex workers give out the address in two parts, first directions to the area, then when they are there, they can text to get the room number or house number. When the second text has been sent, it gives the sex worker time to put on her shoes and wait near the door.  It is also a security measure. If clients do not turn up when they only have directions, it means they are disorganised or have had a change of heart - the standard "no show" - annoying, but no need to freak out as they do not know exactly where you are. However, if they don't turn up when they finally get the specific address, they were not intending to be there in the first place but they now have your address which is not ideal.  Working girls do not feel safe when men pretending to be clients, who turn out not to be, know where they are working from. Different ladies deal with this situation in different ways.

So a preventative measure out of respect for the non-touring ladies who work from the accommodation you are staying at is to not give out the address willy-nilly to every caller who says they might come and see you until the booking is well and truly confirmed, preferably with at least one phone call to weed out schoolboy pranksters, and then give only general directions before giving out the full address.

Allow 15 to 30 minutes at least between bookings so that clients don't bump into each other and to give you time to put the room and your appearance back in order (and take care of any laundry).  As touring ladies this small gap in visitors could also prevent neighbouring occupants from noticing that there are so many visitors.  Also be ready to answer the door as soon as the doorbell rings - it is not a good look for the neighbours to see a series of men waiting at the door nervously.  Bring your clients inside as soon as possible, hiding behind the door when you open it to let them in or show them out, so passersby do not see you in your work clothes.  Never leave clients waiting outside after they have rung the doorbell while you put on your shoes and fix up your make up.

Don't tell any non-client locals that the motel or house is being used by you as a sex worker. Even if the house has been a well-established brothel, and some people in the neighbourhood know about it, the ones that don't know don't need to know. They could be the trouble makers who disapprove of sex work and try to get the house shut down, ruining it for future touring sex workers, not to mention the ladies whose livelihood depends on having local accommodation available. You might think it's cool to be a sex worker, not everyone else does. Likewise, many moteliers are family people and do not want to be seen to condone sex work within their communities. Consider those who will remain (because they live here) after you've gone: be as private as possible so that local people don't gossip.

Don't court trouble. If you have troublesome acquaintances such as druggie friends, dubious boyfriends or party-loving mates or anyone who will be disruptive or noisy in the neighbourhood, use common sense and don't let them come into your working accommodation. This is not the time for partying - you are here to work. Their presence could cause an upset which could result in other professional sex workers being tarred with the trainwreck brush as well.

And speaking of drugs and excessive alcohol consumption, I make no secret of the fact that I haven't lived like a saint, so am in no position to be holier than thou.  However, my advice would be that if you are not ready to lay off or give up using completely, don't tour and take your crap to innocent communities.  Yes, I am in no position to judge anyone based on their weaknesses or difficult situations, and to an extent I believe in live and let live, we are all on our own walks through life and have a right to hold on to our own stories as we see fit and to sort them out and redesign our lives in our own time.  However, if it affects other sex workers and our reputation as a whole, expect to be called out on it.

This is one situation where I can easily see the wood and the trees, having been there and done that, and been part of all the bullshit.  Stay home until you can sort yourself out - this will take some time.  Sex workers are a community of loving and caring people who are happy to help others, but don't stretch their sympathy by taking them for fools.  Get honest, at least with yourself, and you will be amazed by the love and understanding you will receive.  (But that's another blog post.)

Touring sex workers coming in to towns where sex work is not ordinarily apparent are "ambassadors" of sorts for the whole industry so don't ruin it for the rest of us and allow largely false stereotypes to abound by having dramatic incidents while on tour.  Fortunately if a salesman was staying at a motel and something happens and the police become involved, all other salesmen would not be considered likely to behave that way. Unfortunately people do not hold sex workers in as high regard (that's saying something) and it is likely that from then on sex workers would be seen as too much hassle at best and downright dangerous at worst and would no longer have the opportunity to work from there.

Don't talk about your services on the phone outside where others can hear. If you smoke outside and your phone rings, put out your cigarette and go inside, shutting the door on the way in, to take the call. If you are swearing or talking about sex or sex work services on the phone or to anyone outside or as people arrive or leave, it's just not cool and the wrong passers-by could overhear more information than is good for them.  This could include children walking past and within earshot.

Don't smoke inside. Be respectful of property. Point out any accidental damage and offer to pay before you leave. I know of a touring lady whose client had the misfortune of breaking part of a bed and she passed on money he had left towards its repair. Impressive.

Give back locally, spend a little. I know we tour to make money, but the money you are being paid could otherwise be supporting local businesses. It's a nice gesture to buy locally while you are there to help their economy.

And on the subject of spending, pay for your accommodation as soon as you can. Do I need to add "don't steal"?  It seems I do, as I've heard reports of sex workers leaving without paying their motelier, which of course is stealing. We wouldn't want our clients to do that to us, so let's not do that to others.

Touring can be lots of fun, especially when we have great accommodation providers. Let's resolve to always do the right thing by them.

* While this post seems largely negative and admonitory, I am presently writing a short ebook which is a more comprehensive touring guidebook for sex workers.

Monday, 6 April 2015

Exit: Stage Left


There comes a time in a sex worker's life when, despite the lovely harem of men who are her willing clients, she sometimes thinks that she has had enough of fucking for money.  It may not be a feeling that comes on suddenly, like an epiphany, instead it may be a slowly evolving feeling of job dissatisfaction.  We all have off-days, but if the off-days are more than the on-days, it may be time to consider other options.

Please note - I MYSELF AM NOT YET RETIRING FROM SEX WORK!  However when people say things like "it can be hard to leave" or talk about how some sex workers, whoever they are, should leave, there is obviously more to consider, and often it does not happen overnight.

I have seen a few people leave sex work for good in the short time I have been back so I thought I would share some ideas and options for those wanting to put it all behind them, (off the top of my head - clearly I am not a careers advisor).

My previous exit from the industry came after a sudden event which made me feel that my life could have been taken from me.  I had had a couple of other scary events, but with the naivety of youth, had taken those pretty much on the chin, although I'd be lying if I pretended they did not affect my overall anxiety levels.  But with the one where I was literally in the presence of a mentally-unbalanced man who expressed an intention to do me harm, in fact to kill me, I had a bit of a wake-up call. I was not in a position financially to leave immediately but sex work was never the same for me or my clients after that.

As well as that I had other parallel issues, (addictions) that I knew had finally reached the end of the road for me, so I set about calling on my rainy day cash stash (money I kept at a safe deposit box at a bank) and gathering the rest of the funds needed to relocate back to New Zealand where the first port of call was an addiction recovery centre, following the suggestions of a good friend of mine, a sex worker who had had a disguised heroin habit for seven years, (in other words you couldn't tell from looking at her that she was an addict and functioned well as a high-class escort), who had managed to get clean (and is still clean).

After I returned to New Zealand, two other friends of mine died of heroin overdoses, both men who had nothing whatsoever to do with the sex industry other than being friends with sex workers - one a famous celebrity whose loss was publicly felt and the other one whose family refused to remove his body from the morgue so a working girl friend of mine paid for his cremation and related costs.  While I was not a partaker of heroin myself, my own chemical addiction issues were just as life-threatening.  My first attempts to get clean failed dismally, my last failure being especially spectacular, but I kept going back towards recovery and I'm happy to say that I have had over twenty years of "clean/sober days" since then, taking it one day at a time of course.

(I'm just writing this to suggest that some sex workers have other issues they need to take care of before they are ready to enter the straight world as a job-hunter.  While this stereotype is by no means relevant to everyone, it would be remiss of me to omit it from my particular story).

This time around I have a different exit strategy, bearing in mind that as a mature sex worker, I have a limited shelf life left for actual sex work anyway.  I still have another creative occupation, plus another actual job, but since the earthquakes in Christchurch, this has not given me an effective way to earn a living as it is sporadic.

Many full-service providers don't exit completely but head sideways towards sex work which does not include actual sex, that is, offering different specialist services such as sensual massage or domming.  Sensual massage is a great option and there are many ladies willing to share their skills as well as courses you can take.  The hourly rate is still great and while clients can look, the sensual masseuse controls the amount of touching or any extra services on offer. Although it is hard, physical work, sensual massage is a service many ladies choose because it is always in great demand.

As glamourously as it is portrayed, domming is certainly an experience of the extremes when it comes to the wide range of kinks out there.  I don't believe it is something that anyone can step into, even though many sex workers include mild domination as part of their service, as it is rich in opportunities for the theatrical, what fun.  Serious dominatrix work requires months of training and a secure understanding of the psychology of dominance and submission and there are a few excellent examples of dommes in New Zealand who are experienced in this.

A good friend of mine, who was a dominatrix in Melbourne for 15 years, told me she gave up domming though because it became too dark in her head, and also because she became sick of cleaning up after clients' ass-inserted implements, as she felt there was nothing domme about that.  When I asked her why she didn't get slaves to do it, she replied that cleanliness had to be of the most superior order, and slaves may not do it properly or may not put things back in the right place.  When it comes to being a dominatrix, one thing that is stressed is that there can be nothing slap dash about keeping the tools of the trade sterilised.  

However, if the stigma of the sex industry is something you are trying to escape from, sensual massage and domming are still under the same umbrella.

It's worth remembering that sex workers who are good at what they do are not lacking in transferable skills.  For example the hospitality industry uses similar skills, including the underrated gift of dealing with sudden upsets or client surprises while still smiling, and is easy to transition into without giving up the great income of sex work, as part-time positions are reasonably easy to come by.  Before long, extra practical skills can be earned, such as barista and bar skills, which can be moved to other hospitality positions elsewhere.  Other jobs which need great customer skills of this nature are in the real estate, sales and marketing industries, if that's your cup of tea.

Another thing you may need to consider, depending on what you wish to do, is obviously full-time study, to get qualifications of course as well as something to put on your CV to fill in a period of time.  When people ask what you are doing, saying you're a student is quite a respectable answer.  At the beginning, when your study timetable is lighter, you can still do sex work to get enough to live on with little advertising if you have regular clients.

Often until you've lived a little though, it's hard to know where your interests really lie, what to study and how you can really use your natural resources to make a difference in the world, your community, your family or even what makes your own spirit soar.  Someone I know spent years studying law, rose in the ranks to become a partner in a great law firm, before deciding that "being a lawyer" was not actually what he wanted to do.  If only he'd known.  Luckily he was able to salvage another great career with those qualifications.  If sciences are your thing and you like the hooker with a heart of gold aspect of sex work, maybe nursing would be an interesting step.  If you're a creative geeky sort, I know of a few working girls who have studied web design, although I have heard that the new frontier of IT is still quite male-dominated and not necessarily willing to include or employ women except on a token basis, (this is based on anecdotal observations by someone within the industry), although you can always work for yourself.

It's difficult to get ahead working for wages, and some people resent the renumeration they get for the effort they put into working to build someone else's empire, isn't that easy to complain about?  We each have skills, aptitudes and interests unique to us, and even if we are not sure about what we want to do, a business course (I think even technical institutes offer Bachelors in Business Studies) could be something to do which can be used in any business in future, your own or managing others'.

A book I recommend to anyone wanting to get out of sex work but not quite knowing what to do, is What Color is Your Parachute? by Richard Nelson Bolles.  There are also government funded organisations that can help with job-hunting, and according to the NZPC (another great resource of non-judgmental ex-sex workers who also have counsellors), sex workers leaving this career do not have to suffer through the normal stand-down period that WINZ impose for job-seekers voluntarily leaving a job and signing up for a benefit, given that due to emotional or safety issues, immediate departure from sex work may be essential.

The main issue I found difficult to deal with in the real world was the terrible money-management skills I had.  Although I had been brought up to be reasonably prudent with money, understanding well things like the magic of compound interest, my years of earning too much and not being able to do anything with it (due to sex work being illegal) caused real problems with my acquired champagne tastes once I was back on a beer budget (which is ironic, being a non-drinker).  This is where organisations like the Citizens Advice Bureau, who offer non-judgmental budgeting services, are fantastic.  Ideally to plan a transition to the real world, services like these could help a working girl with a budget, advise on taking care of outstanding taxes if any are due, and secure an interest-earning nest egg to make transition to a non-sex working life easier.

Sometimes the transition to a new occupation takes some time as it does with any career change.  Luckily because sex work is legal here in New Zealand, there is no need to fear that any assistance from government departments which offer these kind of helpful services will negatively affect sex workers reaching out.  Perhaps other countries who want to stamp out sex work could take a gentler and more understanding approach rather than trying to enforce a blanket ban on something which is sometimes the only way people know of as far as how to make a living goes.

I wish anyone who no longer enjoys sex work the courage to leave and all the best with their new life.

Wednesday, 25 March 2015

Sex Workers' Supporters: Please take a bow

 Sex work: sometimes it really is fields of daisies and buttercups.  Painting by John William Waterhouse.

Frequently during discussions about sex work, the subject is raised of bitches and bitchiness among sex workers.  Perhaps images of girls pillow fighting while wearing skimpy underwear is tantilising, and often there are suggested scenarios of "professional jealousy" causing cat fights or other dastardly, non-violent deeds designed to sabotage working opportunities by those who believe they are above actual violence, or outright scraps, plenty of which happened back in the day among ship girls.  I'm not denying these things happen, but overall, the sex industry is a pretty supportive environment in New Zealand this century.

In fact, from punters, fellow sex workers, and interested others alike there is actually a lot of admiration and support for the work we do. I have personally seen many situations where sex workers and their supporters go beyond what is needed, quietly and without expecting acknowledgment or reciprocation.

A lady I used to work with had a best friend who helped her write her ads, carry out her social media activities, arrange her advertising, occasionally take her calls when she was busy, carry her equipment when she had engagements (she was also a stripper), and deliver her to her clients' houses for outcalls.  She never received any money or expected anything in return, and neither was it anything creepy, such as a pimping situation, which may have been suggested or suspected if she was male (why should that assumption often be made so quickly?)  She was just a caring friend who wanted her sex-working BFF to be safe and feel supported.  I have so many friends with loving and supportive partners and family members helping them behind the scenes, you could be reading for hours if I wrote them all down.

For that matter, many a non-sex working friend has given practical help, moving things into a new brothel, erecting furniture or suggesting rooms to rent in towns where other accommodation has fallen through.  This happened recently to a friend of mine when her accommodation was cancelled at the last minute, and a kind person suggested accommodation which is working girl friendly in a North Island town completely unfamiliar to her.  A small thing maybe, but made a huge difference and prevented her sex work tour being cancelled at the last minute.

Thoughtful gifts are given to sex workers often to encourage and delight.  Just yesterday, I received a gift from a lovely man which had been designed and made with me in mind, all while he was in a hotel in France, then delivered to him from Australia, then locked in a drawer in his office until he could give it to me - it was created to cheer me and make me smile.  Thanks so much, I'm still smiling!

How about this?  An ex-sex worker and her partner who occasionally arrange fun social get-togethers, are spending their annual holiday to accompany and care for a transexual friend (practically family actually) while she gets gender-reassignment surgery overseas.  All at her and her partner's own expense, I'd like to add.

Then there is the political.  Sex work supporters from all over the world message us and retweet our tweets, email us with questions and experiences, blog astutely about sex work, lobby on behalf of other sex workers in places where they are not even affected, and support us in numerous practical ways here in New Zealand.

Actually, the friction and bitchiness is minor and really not worth a worry.  Mostly the sex worker community is a generous place with loving supporters.  It's worth remembering that when things get a little dark.

Let Love Rule - Lenny Kravitz


Sunday, 8 March 2015

Fifty Shades of Fucked Up*

NOT a scene from the film but these are the male and female leads.  
*"Fifty Shades of Fucked Up" is how the character Christian Grey describes himself.

I did not leave the cinema totally disappointed, I have sat through worse films than Fifty Shades of Grey.  This is a nice little film.  It is ok.  It is not great.  But it is almost perfect for its market.

No, its market is not people who work in BDSM or who know anything about BDSM - it isn't really about actual BDSM in any way, other than that the lead male character has a room full of "proper" BDSM gear, as you'd expect from any man of means who has a hobby.  This film is no more BDSM than the film Pretty Woman is a realistic depiction of street-based sex workers, I'm sure it was not pretending to be otherwise.  If you believe that is the case, you may as well take a wander down the street in your city where some sex workers work from, and try and spot someone who looks like Julia Roberts or clients similar to Richard Gere, or who even drive cars, or have chauffeurs, like Richard Gere.  Make sure you are wrapped up warm, as you will be waiting outside for a long time.  Comparing Fifty Shades to real practioners of BDSM is like that.

Much ado about nothing, as it happens.

And in answer to columnists who criticise the film because it is about a rich powerful man forcing a poor desperate woman to do things against her will which sends the wrong message to impressionable young women:  Yes, it was about a man attempting to do that, in particular trying to get her to be his submissive so that he could inflict pain on her, but it was also about a young woman who resisted it the whole time, but did allow him to slightly dabble, I suspect because she was curious: as far as I can tell she never did sign that contract, and I will not say how it ended because that would be a spoiler. 

I found it interesting the time that the film spent trying to explain or justify his kink.  This was obviously an attempt to go beyond the BDSM factor.  I suspect this was of interest to a lot of women, pop psychology being a bit of a trend, and some women do like to deeply understand their men or men in general.  This was a mistake in my opinion, as a kink is just a kink usually.  But given that analysing and what I consider over-thinking is our thing, this was a good strategy to give the film more depth and obviously it needed padding out to go beyond the soft porn factor, which would never do, particularly if you want to show a film in mainstream cinemas.

I have not read the book.  (I will read the book because I have an academic interest in film adaptation and I like to do film-book-film sandwiches).  However, I can remember among the middle-aged mum set, of which I am a fully qualified member, there was a murmur of arousal because of the book at the time of its release.  Copies were being recommended, bought for others, lent and read in a night, which I could tell from the film, would be an easy task. It's not for me or you or anyone to mock tweens who get fanatical about boy bands, or women who get a bit obsessed with a sexual scenario they have never explored, or even ever thought about.  I'm all for a spark of interest being ignited, and even a new thought being given to sex by a group of women who lead such busy lives, generally quite fulfilled lives actually, that often these are lives where sex takes a back seat because you just can not fit everything in, to the chagrin and disappointment of their husbands who have to live with vows of fidelity they made in a church a few years earlier, (but no vows were made to stay sexually active when life takes over.) 

I admit, while I wanted to leave the film early to watch my present sporting obsession - I had a friend text me the opening situation which I naughtily checked from the cinema (so spank me) - I really did care about how it ended and I also wanted to see how hardcore the BDSM actually got.  If you care, go and see the movie and find out for yourself.

So what's it like?  Well obviously the story is unrealistic, in true Mills and Boon style.  The man was impossibly handsome (very nice gym-toned body and pleasant enough boyish face) with intense eyes and of course a vast fortune.  A cold control freak.  I thought the character was a prat but I do like a man who reeks of lovely dosh.  The girl was a virgin and prone to innocently asking "what?" when she was confused.  She was young and attractive with big blue eyes and a young body.  The set was gorgeous in a sterile way - he was after all a billionaire - and I quite liked the music, but not the music he played.  (He played maudlin pieces on a grand piano which he had in his apartment).  I thought it ended neatly with the very clever elevator door motif which is full of suggestion (future sequel options).

My verdict?  Well, first my position.  I'm a mature sex worker with an interest in society and its attitudes towards relationships and sex.  I care about the sexual fun of other people and while I have never known anyone to have the same lifelong interest that I have had in sex or bodies or fucking, I believe that most people have an idea that sex and in particular orgasms are healthy and good for both men and women and I'm all for anything wholesome and legal that inspires sexual exploration.  I socialise frequently with other women who are not sex workers and we talk a lot about men and sex.  My verdict is that for the purpose of causing curiosity and even arousal, (yes, I was turned on) the film works.  

If you want something representive of BDSM this is not it.  If you want something deep and meaningful this is not it.  But if you want something with beautiful actors who have to occasionally say quite lame things but do it well, this is actually pretty good.  And it's titillating.  It is not quite perfect for its market (we are a bit brighter than that), but it is adequate.  Leave it be.

Saturday, 14 February 2015

Loving relationships: can a sex worker have it all?



"I loved you since I knew ya, I wouldn't talk down to ya"...*

I've known sex workers since I began working as a teenager who have been in long term relationships with people since before they were sex workers, as well as relationships which started while they were sex workers with their clients and with men who were not their clients, and obviously relationships which began after they stopped being sex workers.  Relationships and searching for love is what some of us do or attempt to do.  Some work out, some don't.  Some men don't even realize their partners are or once were sex workers.  

It's complicated.

Regarding relationships, I can only be objective (or can I?) about the ones I've had.  And I've had to conclude that it's not a good idea for me to attempt one as a working girl without laying all my cards on the table about who I am and what I do.  

Generally it starts off positively. A man is suddenly in the seeming reality of his sexual fantasies: a sexually awake woman whose boudoir behavior screams "yes yes yes!" when in the past his sex life had been reduced to "no, no, no" from his partner whenever an attempt was made to get intimate.  Ever wanted to try this?  The sky is the limit, he is with an open-minded professional now as opposed to an unenthusiastic amateur.  It's amazing how the mind can transform someone ordinary into someone scintillating because the lady is supposed to know what she is doing due to having done it so much before, and professionally.

A recent attempt at a relationship had the dude at the start saying that he found it a real turn on that other men paid to fuck me when he could get it for free.  At the end he was saying things like "I wish I could afford to free you from sex work!" But how did he get the idea that sex work is something I need to be freed from? As our differences in perception of sex work became apparent it caused a lot of difficulty. 

I do actually enjoy what I do and I'm not ready to give it up yet. An issue with my last partner was that I admitted I really like the variety of fucking lots of men for money.  Obviously I am going to do my best to find men who pay me for sex as attractive as I can so I can get the most fun out of my job, and believe me, it isn't that difficult with my clients.  It is rare that I get someone where I can't find something rather hot about them, men are such beguiling creatures when they are naked and horny I find, particularly when they are in the mood to please.  It seems that sex workers enjoying fucking other men can become a dealbreaker in relationships. I wonder if this is an issue for partners of gynecologists?  Do they mind that their partners rather like to look at other women's vaginas?

It's the nature of relationships that as the rose-tinted glasses lose their pink pigmentation, fault is found with ones partner. The sexy mouth painted in cock-sucking red (my personal shade is Ruby, a matt lipstick by the brand MAC for anyone passing through duty-free who wishes to collect a small gift for me) soon becomes a tiresomely trashy shade of unnatural lip. The sensual sex-partner becomes a whore to be embarrassed about, even when no one else is necessarily aware of how she occupies herself occasionally.  It's as if being "just a sex worker" makes a person less than nice.  And probably any loving feelings she may or may not profess to have are not worth anything either. 


When you're all gooey in the treacle of the early stages of a new relationship, sex work can seem a bit like a perverse infidelity before one gets ones head around it, so one way to counter this impression and lessen the eminence and responsibility of whorishness while letting the partner enter into the sindustry as a co-conspirator is to demonise the clients in conversation with ones partner, but to do that means convincing oneself of same and thereby risking less job-satisfaction - the sword is surely double-edged at this point, which is why I hate to be around moaners, nit-pickers and those who simply can't keep secrets about their clients. These attitudes are contagious, but maybe there is this belief: it surely isn't so bad to be in love with a sex worker if she doesn't actually enjoy interacting intimately with other naked men. Therefore occasionally I wonder how partners and husbands of sex workers feel when they read particularly graphic reviews of said sex worker's performances and pleasure with her clients? Does it cause jealousy if they suspect there is any truth to it?  Or has their sex-worker partner convinced them it was all just fake, fake, fake with every client in order to spare the feelings of the sex-worker's lover?  Is there a happy middle ground?

It is a big ask for a man to graciously accept that his partner is willingly being intimate with other men as a conscious career choice at this point in her life story, and full credit to those amazing partners of sex workers who remain supportive of and loving towards their sex working partners without ever throwing it in their faces as the ultimate insult during arguments.  I think it takes an extraordinary person to truly be ok with or even offer practical help (ever tried to erect a flat-packed bed?) to his sex working significant other so she can make her living by doing something which couples jealously guard as something to be kept for them alone.  To make matters more stressful, partners have to deal with ignorant attitudes, by some who consider that men who love sex workers are there for one reason only: to be "living off her," or worse, "pimping" his loved one.  Surely those who hold this belief have no understanding of what it is like to truly accept a woman for who she is.

A fantastic Australian partner of a sex worker produced a great resource for anyone who is in that position.  (I found out about this through the excellent Australian radio show for sex workers and clients, The Vixen Hour).  Another great resource called Ho Lover, which contains amazing information for friends and lovers of sex workers, has also been produced by "a white queer trans-guy of mongrel class background" (with "amazing feedback and contributions from Juliet November, Lusty Day, Scarlet Alliance, Vanessa Lash, MVT and various anonymous others").  Another resource I would recommend for anyone interested in being supportive of sex workers is "Every Ho I Know Says So."

As for me I've decided to keep things simple and avoid entangling myself emotionally for now, and I certainly don't believe in Cinderella sex work stories anyway. Never say never though, who knows what is around the corner? I'm just enjoying this life for the ride, and at the moment the ride has the exciting kind of ups and downs.

* For a lovelier version of the song Roxanne featuring the sexiest of the Marsallis brothers (Branford, in my opinion) on a saxophone which slightly resembles a clarinet, click here and also recommended is another more mellow version, which was recorded live in Tuscany on the evening of 11 September, 2011 with a rather poignant comment at the end of the song in light of the events in New York of earlier in that day (9/11).