A proud prostitute but a silent prostitute

I'm enjoying being a prostitute, I find it interesting and unusual and I feel like it gives me insight into strange and wondrous worlds. I also feel like it stops me from disintegrating into the hum-drum averageness of a mundane life (a great fear of mine). But I can't share this with anyone. I guess that is where the blog comes in. There are wonderful people in my life who, when they say "what did you get up to on the weekend?" I'd like to answer fully, honestly, openly, have a bit of a laugh and move on. But that can't happen. I'm a whore and that's not normal... or acceptable.

It's kind of annoying in many respects, but it is part and parcel of the job. I am grateful that I have Dorian close by to chat to, and Amazon only an email away. An excellent example is recently I got a really great review on New Zealand Adult Forums. I was utterly delighted, I have never read a written review of my sexual performance before. The reviewer was wonderful in that he gave away enough practical details to be accurate but left enough out that my identity and an air of mystery remained intact. I was so excited I emailed the full review to both Amazon and Dorian. But I can't post it on facebook or print it out for my mum to stick on the fridge. I guess forced anonymity keeps me humble in a way.

I take great pride in my job and really, really want to deliver fantastic service, but sometimes it's hard to tell if you are really reaching each individual customer on their level. I know you can't please all the people all the time, but I want to be the best I can be for each client. I do some things better than others, I'm great at providing the 'girlfriend experience' and I'm not so good at providing the 'pornstar experience' which means I'm good at listening, smiling and making eye-contact. I'm not so brilliant at athletic fucking or talking dirty. The latter I'm working on. The Em & Lo blog used to have a really good post on dirty talk suggestions, they used to have a massive amount of really good posts that got lost when they changed their URL. Oh well at least there are places like about.com for dirty talking basics. Yep, even a pro has to look it up sometimes.

Talking about blogs, I really enjoy reading Cocaine Girl, a very human, very raw, very honest account from a London prostitute, writer, and junkie. I admire her and at the same time I want to save her, and then I criticise myself for wanting to save her as I know there would be many people who would not think my lifestyle choices are my own and would want to save me from myself. I also like a blog called Courtesan: luxuriant woman which has a variety of rather poetic resources, but can be a bit too media-heavy for my little computer to handle.

Did I mention I got a fantastic client review on an adult forums site?

Working during my period

This post was bound to happen sometime. I have my period for 5 days out of each 30, I work 3 days out of 30, one day I was going to work a shift while I had my period. My period is ridiculously heavy for the first 30 hours and then very light for the rest of the time. On Saturday I happened to work during that 1st 30 hours.

I thought I had it all under control. I have had sex during my period before with the assistance of a fantastic product recommended to me by Amazon called a Beppy. It's an artificial sponge that has been shaped to sit over the cervix and collect the blood, it has a hole molded in one side that you can hook a finger into to retrieve. Beppys even come in a lovely 'wet' variety that have a nice smelling lube that makes it easier for insertion and kind of cleans as it goes in. Wonderful product. Not sold in New Zealand (I'll probably buy them online and get them sent over... it's worth it).

I had a menstrual sponge which I thought was the same. Mistake. Firstly the sponge was natural so it was inconsistently textured and not as dense at the beppy, therefore it couldn't hold as much blood. Secondly it wasn't as soft as a beppy and I thought it might have been felt by the clients. and thirdly there was no hole, it's a sphere, which meant the easiest way of getting it out was to pry it way from the sides with the tips of the fingers or use an opposable thumb... thumbs are much shorter than other digits and this is not an easy task. Removal involved squatting at the bottom of the shower attempting to retrieve this elusive device that had been pushed way, way up there. Fortunately the heavy bleeding meant the sponge was full of liquid and easier to retrieve. If I couldn't get it out I would have had to had a bath to fill it with water and dig it out then. It's a messy and unglamorous business. Of course done only after the client had left the room.

I had two jobs, both lovely men, and at the end of both jobs there was blood on the end of the condom. Eugh. On both occasions I swiftly move in and removed the condom, folding into a tissue before they noticed. During orgasm a part of the brain shuts down, there's an interesting article about it on How Stuff Works. So while they slowly recovered full brain function it was not too difficult to sneak that past the clients. And there was no blood anywhere else so I think I managed to get away with it this time.

What I have learnt for next time: 1. Avoid working during the heaviest time of my period, 2. when using a sponge only put it in just before sex, use a tampon for the rest of the time and 3. get some Beppys from Europe.

I'm not very good at remembering people

I can't seem to remember faces, or names particularly well. Recently I have seen a few men about town who may or may not have been my clients. A couple have given me a little nod so I have nodded back and smiled then instantly wished I had winked because that would be a much cuter gesture... actually, I'm not that practiced with my wink, it might end up looking like I have something in my eye.

Tonight I was at a bar with some friends and met a mutual acquaintance who maybe had been a client, maybe not, I honestly don't know. I have been over my notes and don't seem to recognise him from there. But he did call me 'baby' at the bar and said when we were introduced "oh we already know each other very well". Do we? It is quite possible that he was never a client but we have met before. I do wish I had a better memory for people.

Since I last blogged I have worked another 2 shifts, the highlights include an old chinese man who was like a 12 year-old boy in mentality, he would grab my breast like he was squeezing melons, squeal in delight then hug me enthusiastically. There was an Afghani man who was hairy like a gorilla and who had shaved himself with clippers so he was prickly all over and the sheets stuck to him like velcro. There was a lovely truck driver who just wanted to talk, from him I learnt how to bleed poppies for opium. There was also a endearingly sweet man who was a virgin, I asked him if he wanted to stay that way, he said yes, so I gave him an amazing body slide - thanks to the amazing body slide technique taught to me by Dorian - and he left satisfied and with his virginity still in tack.

The boy continues to be amazingly tolerant of my lifestyle choice, a quality that I treasure, it can't be easy dating a hooker. I asked around the other working girls and they generally don't tell their partners. One client I had dated a working girl for a long time and said he found it very hard. Relationships do change things, I can't quite put my finger on it at the moment but I find I spent a lot more time acting at work now, as opposed to just being. I don't speak to the boy about specific events at work. I even found myself unusually uncomfortable talking about a recent court case in New Zealand in which a client was fined for requesting to not use a condom during oral sex (I have not been able to find any information on this online).

I went to my doctor today, got a prescription for condoms and an appointment to have a blood test to see if my last hepatitis B vaccination is still working. Prevention is better than cure.

Shifts worked : 10

Total Jobs : 41

Total unique clients : 38