When your client is a she…..
Don’t get me wrong; I love my job. LOVE IT. The excitement of slipping into expensive Agent Provocateur, sliding my perfectly pedicured (OPI Russian Navy) feet into a pair of Jimmy Choos, and gliding through a hotel lobby in anticipation of meeting my client for an hour or two (knowing the champagne’s chilling on ice next to a few thousand dollars in a tidy white envelope) makes it all worth it.
I cherish the moment when I tap lightly at the door and that single second when it slowly opens, and standing there with a big smile is…a woman? My client is a girl?
Now, call me what you want, but lesbian I am not.
I love women. I love their company, their smartness, their emotional IQ. I love their soft skin and their perfumey smell. But the experience is very different than with a man. A man is easy to please: naked flesh and of course lots of stroking (to the ego). But a woman? No siree.
My (very few) female clients come from money and are career women. They’re usually over 40 and either married or divorced. One even brought her husband along (but that’s another story). They’re either bored of sex with their husband and want to do something naughty that’s been on their bucket list for years, or they like women, like fucking women, but haven’t got the time nor inclination to go around searching for it.
One of my clients, Trisha* – a 52 year-old retail owner – told me when her husband goes away, she treats herself to a take-out. A call-girl take out. “It’s my indulgence to myself,” she told me once. She’s not a lesbian, she just likes to touch and feel a woman once in a while. (Her husband had no idea).
We met twice at her home she shared with her husband. We always start our date with a drink, a few glasses of champagne and talking about normal stuff – men, shopping, the latest beauty treatment. With most male bookings, I take control. The men are usually quaking in their boots. But with Trisha, it’s different. The two times I’ve seen her, she takes my hand and leads me to her bedroom. There’s always lots of kissing, lots of foreplay and lots of oral.
It’s always tricky with a woman – are they faking? Did she really enjoy that? How do I know what I’m doing is working? A penis goes hard, a vagina…? Her moans felt real, her wetness was real, but I understand how men feel during sex with a woman. The anxious thought; ‘Did you really enjoy that?’ comes to mind. Women are a little harder to figure out. Here are three things I can do with a man, that I can’t do with a female client…
Men usually have no idea whether you came or not. They take your word for it. But forget faking with a female. They’re onto you.
Stroke the ego
Men are pretty simple to make happy. They like being told they’re clever and amazing and handsome and strong and, “Wow – isn’t your penis enormous! And look! Here are my breasts!”
Women, I can’t bullshit. She knows she has dimples and pimples and her hair is all extensions and her tummy is stretched. She’ll admire my boobs, sure, but the connection is deeper than that. And that’s the scary part. You have to be real. Fluttering your eyelashes won’t work: she knows they’re fake.
Make small talk
Here’s something you may not know. A lot of male clients love a chat. They may not realize it when they book you, or the moment you walk into the room, but they are starved of good chat – I once sat through three-and-a-half hours (and three espresso martinis) of a five-hour booking and listened to my client’s sad story of his broken marriage and stroppy teenage daughter.
Female clients, on the other hand, want to fuck. They talk to their friends, their partners, their therapists. They’re all talked out. If they book you, then they want to have sex with you. It’s as simple as that. Saying that, the emotional connection is deeper with a woman, and the ones I’ve seen do enjoy a bit of dirty talk.
Women usually want more foreplay, stroking, touching and massage. It’s not all over in minutes. There are no limits to the amount of times she can orgasm, whereas men are pretty limited (sorry boys). I quite often leave a female client wishing I could have stayed longer, that we got on so well, that she was such a nice person and weren’t her shoes nice, and maybe, just maybe, we could meet for coffee one day….