A day in the life of a prostitute.

BY GRACE BELLAVUE

One of the greatest paradoxes of my work is that we provide sex, companionship and a respite from the loneliness of the barrage of daily assaults.

For most people, they are the constrictions and mundane of their relationships, for others it’s the fantasy, the erotica and the forbidden that lures them often into our paths.

For many it is just a world in which they are consumed by work, family and responsibilities. Their own persona and outer life has grown and evolved into an entity that is beyond what they envisioned themselves to be.

His breath stopped labouring, we lay, entwined. He rolled over, eyes glancing at his wallet.
“I’m not going to steal your money idiot.”
“It’s not that.”
“What is it?”
“My identity.”
“No offense sunshine, but I honestly don’t give a shit who you are or what you do. I may ask questions in that direction but it’s only conversation, you can be whomever you want.”
“I know, it’s just….”
“What?”
“What if they all found out?”
“Found out what?”
“This, me, wanting you to be a dirty little slut, the language we used, even I feel as though I’ve done something wrong, I shouldn’t be asking this of you, just, everything.”
I laughed.
“You’ve been watching a lot of porn haven’t you?” He smiled, that shy half smile some men do when it’s the first time they vocally express what they’ve been sexually feeling for the first time.
“Maybe, yeah.”
“You watch the same thing for a while, your brain is going to develop pathways that associate desire with the visual images. It may/may not be what you want, either way you’ve been programming it.”

“So I’m not a sick fuck?”
“No, you’ve just watched too much porn. You’ve re-configured your pathways along a different route. Granted you can’t call any random chick a dirty, filthy ass slut without getting slapped, at least on the first date.” His eyes crinkled at the corners and he grabbed the towel and spread it over his shoulders as it was getting cold in the room.
“What if they find out?” His hands twisted with the sheet.
“Who is ‘they?’ ”
“My work, my political background, everyone.” His hands spread, and his eyes drifted to his wallet again.

“The men would understand but vilify you in public because it’s a dog eat dog world. The women would cry feminist on the outer but wish they could be it in private. Isn’t life fucked?”
“Tell me about it. How do I go back to normal?” I laughed.
“What’s normal anymore? You want a lady that’s a whore, most ladies want to be a whore. Most whores want to be a lady. We’re all lonely. Hunting to the point where we wish someone can turn us on from a look, a touch and a word, then it’s time for re-programming my dear.”
“How do I do that?”

“I’ll teach you. Boring as fuck the first time around, but then again you’re bored of the ass fucking, throat choking, bukkake bullshit that is filling all our minds. At this rate you’ll be searching for a chick like that, and dis-regarding her because she re-enforces what you hate about your sexuality.” He rolled onto his side, and my hand rose to trace and outline the contours of his face.
“Lets start from the beginning.” I smiled.
“Thankyou Grace.” I stopped momentarily,
“What for?”
“I don’t feel as abnormal anymore.”
“Nah, you’re more normal than you realise buddy.”

It’s business, we provide a service and you provide the fee. We battle the steeliness of our life swords against each other however momentarily and depending on the situation it may be just once, or many a time.

Ultimately we end up naked, re-creating a dance that is millennia old. I’ll kick in my professional knowledge, which reduces me to hunting, understanding, and consciously constantly exploring your pleasure spots, psyche and a desire to give you joy.

It is often the moment after sex, even with clients, that I relish the most. The vulnerability and nakedness as two strange humans with temporary paths entwined begin to hesitantly trade life stories, knowledge and experience.

This moment is why I do my job with joy, gratitude and amazement.

Once the chase is gone, we are just two human beings constantly fumbling our way within the world and it is then I begin to see the heart of masculinity which touches me most – the vulnerability.

This phenomena is not consigned to gender (as I see male, female and gender ambiguous, curious and transitioning clients) but merely a universal truth I see in the wake of my work.

Call me sentimental, but it’s this glimpse of humanity, which makes me treasure my job the most.

It’s when everything comes spilling out, the sexual frustration, desire, confusion, relationship problems, stress in the job, fear of the unknown, fear of being unknown in which the human mind unveils itself it a myriad of ways.

The lust is gone, the social perverse has fallen away and the morals and ethics surrounding both our lives evaporate.

This job gives me the opportunity to experience that constantly, weekly, often daily.

Overwhelming yes. This intensity is what I crave, love and advocate in my job. Even further, my spiritual, sexual and professional interests lay with finding how I can continue to understand, accept and provide this with everyone I see regardless of age, gender and race.

So, often, I see a client look at me, and ask me “Could you love me?”

Yeah I could, but it’s my business to love. I’ve just reminded you of what it feels like. I’ll teach you the skills to love someone else, and the confidence to go forth into your life and seek that for yourself on other terms.

What we have isn’t fake, it’s just a respite, pre-cursor, taste of what you can re-create on your own without me, and with my support.

And I’ll still see clients who it’s nothing more than a great, temporary sexual experience. We both walk away with little effect to our lives and mindset and are none the worse.

This duality, is addictive.

And in my own life, I often miss the complexity and depth of a story that’s become entwined with mine to a degree and that is mine of my choosing.

We both crave our own versions of the all-exclusive story in which we both are key players.

In the interim, I’m going to keep riding this crazy world of strangers, intimacy, humanity, love and lust.

And thank the universe for it.

Grace xoxo.

 Grace Bellavue is an Australian escort passionate about industry advocacy who used to be a digital monkey chained at a desk. Unchained, she know spends too much time indulging in unmentionable sexual acts, scotch & relishing owning her own business. Find her website here (NSFW) and her Twitter here (also NSFW).