SamanthaEvans

The next day was different..

The day began as usual with the alarm at 7:20. I saw my son off to school and then got dressed. At 9:00, the client who was to see me at 10:00 called. He sounded terrible on the phone. He?d awakened with a raging sore throat, likely caught from one of his children, and was waiting to see his doctor. Could we postpone our meeting for a week or so? We agree on a new date, ten days away.

I turn on the computer and begin to make my way through the morning?s e-mail. As I?m reading and writing quick replies, a new message arrives via my website?s contact form. Am I available at noon today, for two hours? I don?t often do last-minute appointments, but with the cancellation earlier, this is no problem. I agree to the meeting and give him my cell number. He calls, I give directions.

Less than an hour later, I open the front door and do a double-take. I say his name, inquiring, not sure if he?s who I was expecting. The name he?d given me was a northern European name, but the man standing on my doorstep looks Japanese. New clients often give assumed names. ?Jewish father, Japanese mother,? R. says with self-deprecating but warm laughter. ?You?re beautiful, Sam,? he says, placing an envelope on the table nearby. ?That red hair?? he reaches out, winding his hand into my hair as he pulls me into his arms.

Most new clients are a bit nervous or even shy, but R. is relaxed and self-assured, slightly deferential yet easily able to take control. I like his confidence. R. is younger than I?d imagined: he might be 12-15 years younger than me. He declines my offer of tea, coffee or a glass of wine, saying, as he undoes one button on my blouse, that we can get to know each other without any of that. The next two hours unnerve me.

Eerily, he feels like a long-time lover who knows me and my body as well or better than I do myself. From start to finish, he touches me exactly right, every time. Not too fast, not too hard, not too little. When I try to take over, to be the active one, he murmurs no, gently soothing me to lie calm. I become clay moulded by his hands, a cello singing in his arms, molten light that flows at his direction and like pure crystal shatters, scattering brilliant rainbows around the room. Then he does it all again. More, again, until I am half-mad, bewildered and overwhelmed as climaxes chain together and roll through my body until I?m in tears, almost clinging to him.

I?m relieved when it?s time for him to get up. He goes to take a shower. I put on a robe and start to run a brush through my tangled hair, looking at my mouth, swollen from so many kisses, and the dazed expression on my face in the mirror. He comes back into the room and dresses while we talk about nothing in particular. At the door, he tucks something into my pocket and gives me a long kiss. Then he?s gone.

I doubt everything for about three minutes. I don?t know what just happened, and it?s rattled me. I don?t like how I feel: empty, slightly bereft. Too close, too fast, too deep, too soon. Who knows why bodies sometimes react that way? I call a friend, leave a message on her system to say that I?m coming to take her dog to the beach. I take a shower. When I hang up my robe to get dressed, I feel the pocket. Two fifty-dollar bills are folded together inside it. I stare at the money, then go find the envelope on the dining room table. Five hundred-dollar bills are tucked inside it, fifty dollars more than my fee for two hours. I add the two fifties to the envelope and then try to put the whole encounter resolutely out of my mind.

Twenty minutes later, my friend?s apricot-coloured standard poodle bounds along beside me as we walk along Jericho beach toward Spanish Banks. The tides are at their lowest this time of year. Wet sand seems to stretch for miles and miles. The dog rambles around happily, wagging his stubby tail, sniffing at random things. At one point, he digs up a starfish, sniffs at it, sneezes mightily and then turns away in apparent disdain. I laugh and find a stick to throw for him to chase. Soon, we?re both running along the beach. He barks happily, play-bows to me and dashes like a wild animal in the fresh air and sunlight.

After well over an hour, we make our way back to the car. He gets into the back seat, panting. I fasten the seatbelt and turn on the engine. The dog leans forward and licks my cheek. I tell him what a good fellow he is and turn the car around to take him home.

If my new client calls and wants to meet again, I won?t be available.

When I get home, my son has returned from school. He?s full of stories from his day, strange things that happened in his science class, the spring concert is coming up next week and he needs a black dress shirt. Will I help him with his French homework?

We have tea together. We do the French homework. I talk about the dog and the starfish on the beach. Later, I get his dinner ready for him to heat up when he?s hungry. Then I go and take another shower, get dressed and call a cab to take me to the Pan Pacific Hotel for my date.

I see K. about once a month when he?s in town on business. He called last night to say that he?d arrived and all was well. I?m looking forward to seeing him. We?ve been together so often, now, that it?s like seeing an old friend. Better still, I know what to expect, by and large. This is important: I do not want to replay the consternation I felt earlier today. That kind of thing doesn?t happen very often, thank heaven, but it leaves me feeling a little wary for a day or two afterward. Tonight, K. and I have a good time. We order dinner from room service, then drink wine and watch the sun go down while we wait for the meal to be delivered.

He lays me down on the bed and puts a plate with a piece of cake on my stomach, warning me not to laugh while he has his dessert: a little cake, a kiss, a nibble along my neck, some more cake, one of my nipples? you get the picture. I do my best to remain sombre and not laugh. I fail gloriously. He flips me over, spanks me hard, and then takes me. It?s fun. It?s explosive and very good. The world does not fly apart and I do not shatter into small fragments. The mid-day meeting fades from my consciousness, as it should. Not for the first time, K. says that he loves me. I love you, too, I say. You help me keep my feet on the ground. I dress. We go down to the hotel entrance. K. rides home with me in the cab, kisses me good night, and then goes back to the hotel.

I take yet another shower, pour myself a glass of wine and go to bed to read for awhile before I go to sleep.

Every day is different, but some days are good examples. Here?s one of mine. It's a bit long, but it's fairly typical. Share one of yours, please?

7:20 a.m. The alarm goes off. I murmur unprintable things as I turn it off and listen to the traffic and weather reports on the radio. At 7:30, I get up, wishing I could stay in my warm, cocoon a couple of hours longer. I wake up more fully in the shower.

8:00 a.m. Having gotten my last-minute signature on a permission form and a cheque for a school field trip, my son leaves for school. I do the breakfast dishes, which doesn?t take long, and listen to the news on the radio. I vacuum the living room and my bedroom and change the sheets on my bed.

8:30 I do my hair and put on some light makeup for my 9:00 client. I put on a lacy bra and a satin dressing gown that he?s admired on other visits.

8:55 I make a pot of coffee and some freshly-squeezed ruby grapefruit juice. I rinse the organic hothouse strawberries I bought at the market yesterday and put them into a pretty crystal bowl.

9:05 My client, H., arrives with a copy of the morning Globe and Mail, a big bouquet of freesias (my favourite) and some fresh chocolate croissants. I put the flowers in water and set the table with the grapefruit juice, coffee, strawberries and croissants. H and I sit and read the paper together while having our breakfast. We talk about the news, things a couple of columnists have written, and have a playful debate about the (then) upcoming provincial election.

H. comes to see me three or four times a month. In his early 70s, he?s a tall, powerfully-built man with an impressive mane of white hair and a permanent tan from years of living in the tropics. His wife died of cancer a few years ago and he continues to mourn the loss, having known her since they were children. He says I remind him of her when she was about my age. What he?s missed most is their morning breakfast ritual, the companionship of reading the paper together as the day begins.

I finish my coffee and massage his neck and shoulders until he pulls me into his lap. He unfastens the belt on my dressing gown, admires the pretty lace bra and the lack of anything else to go with it. We retire to my room for a very satisfying time together. A much younger man would be pleased to be as virile and energetic as H. After things have calmed down, we lie there, cuddling happily and talk about going away for a weekend this summer. He has a quick shower and leaves about 11:45.

I change the sheets, take a shower and dress while I do a load of laundry. Then I turn on the computer and check my e-mail. I write a few notes, update my calendar and make a grocery list.

1:10 I arrive at a very good restaurant in the neighbourhood in time for my 1:15 meeting. A prospective client, F., has asked to meet me for lunch. He arrives just as I?m being seated at a pleasant table by the window. I stand up and give him a warm hug. When we sit down again, he hands me a book of poems by Rumi. In e-mail last week, he?d asked me what I was reading, and I?d mentioned a different volume of Rumi?s poetry. This little book is a gift; an envelope with my fee for the lunchtime meeting is tucked inside. I thank him warmly, genuinely pleased by this unexpected present. I put the book in my bag, the waiter arrives to take our order, and we have lunch with a glass of wine.

2:45 We?ve had a wonderful conversation, full of bantering word-play followed by some more serious discussion as he tells me a bit about his life and what he?s looking for with me. I talk a little about my personal background, my teenage son and some of the work I do other than being a paid companion. The conversation flows easily between us. The waiter clears the table and brings our coffee. When I touch the back of F?s hand with my fingertips, he turns his hand over, takes my fingers in his and lifts my hand to kiss it. When our hands settle back on the table, he doesn?t let go. Outside the restaurant, F. gives me a warm, close hug and kisses me tenderly. He suggests that we go back to my place, but I remind him that wasn?t part of our arrangement and, unfortunately, my son will be home by about 3:30. He kisses me again and murmurs pleasantly in my ear. Can he see me the day after tomorrow? Yes, he can. I?d like that. Another warm hug and we go our separate ways.

3:00 The market is near the restaurant. I fish the grocery list from my purse and go in to buy a few things for dinner.

3:35 I arrive at home just as my son is unlocking the front door. He helps with the groceries and tells me about his day at school, a project he has to work on and his plans to meet a friend the next day.

4:00 I check my e-mail, respond to a few queries, send an invoice for a deposit for a first meeting with a new client and update my calendar. I write a quick note to F., thanking him for lunch and confirming our meeting the day after tomorrow.

5:30 A friend calls to say that another friend?s mother has had a stroke and is in hospital. She?s expected to recover fully. I know this woman fairly well: her son was my first boyfriend in high school a long time ago. We?ve stayed in touch over the years and continue to have a warm, affectionate relationship. I call his house and talk with his wife for a few minutes, hearing the story of her mother-in-law?s stroke once again. I call the florist and order an arrangement: a china teacup full of wood violets.

6:45 I start to make dinner. It?s ready by 7:30. We eat, talk some more about high school intrigue and science projects, and my son?s plans for the summer. By 9:00, I?ve done the dinner dishes and my son has finished his homework. He?s watching a movie on the laptop computer. I answer e-mail on my desktop machine. I have a client tomorrow at 10:00 for two hours, and I?m meeting another at the Pan Pacific Hotel tomorrow evening for three hours with room service providing dinner.

10:00 My son heads off to bed. I read through the CERB boards for awhile then close up the house for the night. I read a murder mystery in bed until midnight, then turn out the light.

4:10 a.m. I wake up. Middle age insomnia trips me up about three times a week. I make a cup of herbal tea and take it back to bed with me. I read for an hour or so and then feel ready to sleep again until the alarm rings at 7:20.

Yes, experience is much more accurate! I do not see this work in terms of services. I am bit more holistic, I suppose.

I agree! It's only a "service" when it's dull, by the book, nothing to remember for very long. An experience, on the other hand, is a completely different thing.

I especially can relate to her rant about the serious talk after climaxing...clients feeling dirty and hugging their pillows feeling all wrong and worried that they might have an STD...its such an insult to me and I get angry when a client asks me for reassurrance on my sexual health....

 

the client takes responsability for seeing or not seeing an escort....its not our responsability to be their therapist because they did and now feel guilty or dirty

Hear, hear!

Conjugate the subjunctive in French? Review Latin declensions? Count backward from 314 by fives in Spanish?

Samantha, that is SOOOO hot. I read it like, 5 times [...]I'm already thinking that the dinner I'll take you to may turn into more.

Good thinking, Sputy. With me, dinner should always include dessert!

:shock:

Now THAT sounds like my ideal fantasy, too bad they don't come like that all that often:|

Oh, gods, yes! MUCH too bad! Charming as it is when the guy is a bit nervous, a little unsure of himself, as though he'd be breaking some unspoken law of etiquette by even touching me too familiarly, I do wish that they'd get over that! I'm a very nice woman. Classy, well-educated, warm, friendly. You could take me home to meet your Mom and she'd be happy with your choice. (For some reason, no client has ever done this, though. I wonder why? :twisted:)

I did notice a change a couple of weeks ago, though, when, after a lovely dinner and a pleasant walk back to the client's hotel, he touched my back in the elevator hesitantly and said something about what a nice woman I am. I leaned up and grabbed his earlobe between my teeth for a couple of seconds before saying, "Yes. I am. Just don't forget that I'm also a whore." The next hour and a half was very hot! :lol:

Law enforcement isn't haunting CL in Canada since it's legal to advertise sexual services here, thank goodness!

I agree about the multi-post spamming of the erotic services section--it's nightmarish some days. But there's a group of providers who have been flagging ads that don't conform to the TOS and they seem to have been successful with many of them. I don't know if that will last, though. I haven't run and ad there in quite a while, but I did get some good clients via CL who are still visiting me.

Well, we could suggest that Sputy might take us both out to dinner at the same time, but... can he handle both of us at the same time? It would be such a shame if he had a coronary in the restaurant. Other diners might not like it! :-D

I love it when the man is on top of me and I can get the timing just right... I'll tell him to stop. Right. There. Don't. Do Not. Move. Not a hair, not a breath. Still. Wait....

He can see from the look on my face that I'm more than fine, that there's no problem, nothing hurts, no alarms are going off.

I tell him to wait. Not to cum. Not yet! When I see the look of sheer desperation in his eyes, I'll start to tell him about something he did earlier that was soooo sexy. Maybe it's the way he held his knife at dinner, or the way his eyes were gliding over me while I sipped my coffee. Something like that, that he might not expect to hear. I'll tell him exactly how I felt whatever it was, what it did to me, where I felt the shiver, the current running through me, how wet I was, how tight my nipples felt, how much I wanted him then and how much more I want him now. Right now.

I try to pour all of this out quickly, but not too fast, ending with something like, "Now. Do it. Hard. Pound my cunt, nail me to the bed, make me cum with you...."

Strangely, I don't always get to finish the series of commands... LOL :razz:

Sputy, dinner would be lovely. :wink:

Thanks, Anita. I'm not worried about the reviews. I've seen how they go up and down everywhere. It was interesting, though, to have this prospective client use this as a way to threaten.

etasman, I understand your concern.

I have all my contact with potential clients by e-mail rather than by phone. I don't enjoy telephone tag games--who does?--and it means that I can handle responses and make appointments very discretely, without being overheard by anyone who might be nearby when the phone rings. I make it a priority to give great e-mail service. When a new client contacts me, he'll receive a prompt reply that describes what I'm offering, poses a few suggestions for our time together, and states clearly what my fee is. I also include a photograph that shows my face.

I'm happy to exchange several rounds of e-mail and I never rush anyone into making an appointment. I think that someone can get a very good sense of who I am, that I take them and my work seriously, and that I'm likely to be trustworthy. In fact, I'm told over and over again that clients are pleased to find that I am who and what I say I am in e-mail, on my website and in my photos.

I'm often contacted by gentlemen who are planning to visit Vancouver and want to make arrangements ahead of time, sometimes several weeks or even a couple of months in advance. They tell me that my professional attitude is reassuring. One such person wrote to me this morning, saying that he was happy to pay the deposit for a meeting with me a month from now. He pointed out that if he cancels his hotel reservation abruptly, they'll likely charge a cancellation fee to his credit card and the upscale bed and breakfast places have much more stringent cancellation fees than I would charge.

Implementing the deposit sytstem is a tough judgment call to make, in the end. However, using PayPal has advantages for the client. They can order their credit card company to withdraw the payment if they want to. I'm the one who pays a processing fee for the transaction, not the client. And I never know any of their credit card information--not the name on the card, or the number. In that way, it's very secure for them.

I always leave the deposit in my PayPal account until the day of the meeting. That way, I can refund it immediately if the client gives adequate notice of a cancellation or if for some reason I have to cancel the meeting myself.

I require a deposit from first-time clients at the time of booking the engagement. I was a bit nervous about what might happen when I implemented this, but I was also very tired of having my time wasted. I book 1.5 hours for first visits, and I leave a minimum of 1.5 hours between appointments. When someone doesn't show up for a meeting, I can lose half a day or more.

What I've found is that not only has this eliminated the ones who book and don't bother to call to cancel the appointment, but since my schedule is more stable, it's easier to book my returning clients. The net result is that because I'm actually working the hours I set, I'm earning more money more consistently than before I began this policy

I've been fascinated to notice that, when someone complains about paying the deposit, they also tend to complain that my fees are too high, that my service may not be worth what I charge, and that they can get equivalent service from someone else at a third of the price. A couple of them have stated that I should be deeply relieved that they asked for an appointment in this difficult economy and (of course) I should be offering much more with fewer restrictions at a lower fee.

I had an exchange with one man last week who wrote a very snippy e-mail to me, warning that, since there was no guarantee that I wouldn't run off with his $100 deposit, I should be aware that he was ready to spend a couple of hours writing nasty reviews on the boards about my thievery if there was any problem. Curiously, he didn't seem to understand why I declined the opportunity to entertain him. He said I was being ungrateful. Imagine that. :-o

This is all very disconcerting to me.

If someone were to try to pressure me to see him, or to threaten not to see me, because of their presumptions about someone I may have entertained and what we may have done if or when that purported meeting occurred... well, that's not a client I would care to accept!

I turn away more potential clients than I see. I meet with those whom I choose for many reasons including having interests in common and compatible styles. I turn down prospective clients when I feel we're not likely to be comfortable together, or when we have very different needs or expectations. Hearsay has no influence with me unless it comes from another woman whose personal safety has been violated.

In other words, what one man may say about another carries little weight with me. That men engage in pissing contests and try to claim territory or proprietary rights just seems to be how they entertain each other. :smile:

I am deeply ambivalent about reviews and recommendations. Most of my clients wouldn't dream of writing about the time they spend with me, nor do they want to read the salacious details others might write about encounters they've had, or claim to have had, with me. Their privacy is critically important to them, and to me. As a result, there are very few reviews about me anywhere. A couple of those that can be found were written by people who have never met me.

But, in response to your original query, Dummpy, I think that you should let your original recommendation stand. You felt you got good service from the provider. That doesn't obligate her to see you again, though. If someone asks you privately about the SP, say what you think. Time passes, we all change, what works today may not go so well in a few months, and what's not so great right now can improve beyond measure in time, too.

Sputy, music is a good idea. I only hesitate because I hate to spend a lot of time setting things up in the client's hotel room, but it would be okay for some of them, for sure.

Grass_Hopper, I've usually got a pair of pantyhose tucked into my bag, too for the same reason. Angela_Aurora, I've seen those hose with the built-on garter belt, but I haven't tried them. They might be a quick substitute for stockings, but I think I'd prefer real ones, with the garters. One of my regulars likes to remove them and he does it soooo slowly and sexily I'd hate to deprive him of the pleasure... LOL

Erin_xo, I pack gloves, too, and use them alot to avoid scratching the client if I do a prostate massage--my nails are a bit long! I have a pair of those bodyshaper-things, but I've never worn them when I'm with a client. Maybe I will, though--could be fun!

igotaboner, anal beads are a great idea! I should go shopping... :wink:

monk, if a client brings a bottle of wine or something that he'd like to share, that's always fine with me. If he has sensitivity to particular soaps, I'd be happy for him to bring what he prefers. I'd make sure to have that on hand next time I see him, too. For my own health and safety, though, I insist on providing condoms, lube and gloves, and on covering anything he might bring that he also wants to put inside me.

There are men that don't like it???

Yes. I divorced one of 'em. Women I know outside the profession often complain that they spend a lot of time performing and not much time receiving oral. I tend to advise that they stop doing it until things change.

Which dildo was your favourite, ED? Maybe someone should start a new thread about 'em!

Annessa, those Listerine sprays are awesome, aren't they? I don't smoke, but fresh breath is so important. I've usually got some chewing gum in my purse, but the breath spray is better.

A couple more things that I should tuck into the bag:

I keep meaning to buy some toy cleaner wipes. Condoms go onto the toys, but removing the used condom isn't enough to clean the toy especially if the condom was lubricated.

A client recently gave me a remote-controlled vibrator and took me out for a fabulous dinner at Vij's, Vancouver's best Indian restaurant. That toy's a keeper for sure! I think I should pack extra batteries.... ;-)

That is in a nut shell the difference between a fine courtesan and a fly by night escort. You my lady are a courtesan, your time is compensated and what you choose to do with it is a mutual experience for your client to decide in private behind closed doors! Every client is different and the flexibility to recognize and provide for them in the way they would enjoy is a sign of a great courtesan. If you were in Ottawa I would tip you well! And not just with cash.

Aww, Dummpy, thanks for that! :smile:

I love doing prostate massages! There are so many different ways to do them from playfully menacing to gentle and loving.

I've been doing more outcalls lately and since I'm always looking for new ideas I think it could be fun to itemize what we take along to an outcall, or what the men have particularly appreciated.

I carry a soft leather bag that can pass as a briefcase or a small overnight bag. It's not big and suitcase-like. In it, I carry lots of condoms of different styles, lubricant, some massage cream and three or four toys. The toys are usually a dildo, a butt plug, a vibrator and a pair of leather handcuffs. Sometimes I tuck in a soft, deerskin suede flogger.

If I'm wearing a corset when I go to the hotel, I also carry a bra and pantyhose to put on if the corset comes off during the session--much easier and simpler than putting the corset on again when it's time to get dressed. I have a very lightweight satin robe that folds into nothing. I've taken it with me sometimes and was glad I had it.

Depending on the time of the meeting and chemistry with the client, I may bring a bottle of wine, a corkscrew and a box of chocolates.

My makeup bag, a brush and comb, a small can of hairspray and some hand lotion are in my purse.

Anyone else?

Has any one had an SP that advertised the farm followed by a price, then when you get there she had adds for each item on her list?

That's blatantly false advertising and no one should tolerate it. Some girls charge different rates based on specific services, but you have a right to know what the bill is going to be ahead of time, when you make the booking, IMHO. Once you're there, if you want to add something to the package, you should expect to pay for it at the rate she quoted on her website or wherever she gave the information.

Personally, I would hate to have our pleasure interrupted by negotiating for extras if the client feels he wants something different. It seems to me that would wreck the chemistry between us. That's one reason why my rates are all-inclusive. The other reason is that, as far as I'm concerned, the client is paying for my time and companionship. Whatever we may do with that time together is up to us. And yes, it does mean that my fee for a covered BJ is the same as for full service plus Greek, or for tying me up, tormenting me with toys and spanking me along with the full service. It's also the same if I tie him up and get out the double-ended dildo! :grin:

I remember enjoying giving BBBJs, a long, long time ago. But I haven't given one since I was married, also quite awhile ago! I don't offer them. I do give a great CBJ. I have clients who see me just for that, so I must be doing something right. :lol:

I have intercourse a LOT. In fact, I think I've not had it with only a couple of clients in the last three or four months. This is the clients' choice: I'm happy with whatever happens and don't pressure anyone for anything.

I wonder, though, whether age might be a factor in this? It's rare for me to have a client under 40 and most are in their 50s and 60s. Most of them say that they're not getting any sex at all at home and they want a lot of cuddling, kissing and intercourse. One client, who's been with me four or five times--enjoys the CBJ but asked me to stop last time because he wanted to hold me--it was the closeness he wanted.

I love Greek. I have incredible orgasms from it. So, I do offer it. However, I usually tell new clients that it's an option but that I'd like to wait until we've been together at least once. That way, the expectation is lowered. Sometimes I offer it at the first meeting--it depends on the dynamic between us.

Usually, I only do it once in a day. If I'm seeing three clients, I don't want Greek with all of them.

But prostate massages and dildos are available all the time!

I find the acronyms frustrating. I generally say that I provide a rich, sensual GFE. But I enjoy Greek. A lot. I don't do BBBJ and I rarely allow releases on my body. I will if the chemistry between the client and myself is right. I'll encourage it, then, if I think he'd enjoy it. I just don't advertise it as an option available for new clients.

Chemistry, connection, the "je ne sais pas" of it all is what makes the difference to me, every time. I can encourage it to happen, but I can't manufacture it. I do tackle one of my regular clients at the door and whether we'll ever make it to the bedroom is an open question. Does that make it a PSE? I don't know. It's just the way we connect with each other.

Another has me visit him in his office sometimes, dressed in business attire and as circumspect as can be. He's introduced me to some of the people he works with, implying that I'm a client. But sometime after his office door closes, I'm going to be turned over his knee, skirt up, and spanked hard before a CBJ or being bent over the desk. The fantasy aspect of it is a kind of PSE for him.

Maybe these terms really are related to the people involved more than they're descriptive of something easy to offer?

Thanks for posting this, Erin. She hits the issues perfectly.