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More Q & A

Posted in Miscellaneous, Perception, Philosophy, Q & A, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 24, 2010| 13 Comments »

I am not bound to please thee with my answers. –  William Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice (IV,i)

It’s time for me to answer reader questions again; keep ‘em coming, I’d like to make this a monthly feature!  This first one was imbedded in a long and fairly boring neofeminist diatribe:

If being a prostitute isn’t shameful, why don’t you use your real name and picture?

1)  Because there are far too many rabid lunatics like you around and I love my husband far too much to give any of you a chance to make his life more difficult.
2)  Because I don’t trust the self-proclaimed “authorities” any more than I would trust a dog to guard a steak.
3)  Because if I put a legal name and a distinctive face to my words I defeat one of my chief points, which is that prostitutes are no different from any other women.  If you know what I look like you also know what I don’t look like, and if you know my real name you also know what it isn’t; that allows you to mentally push me away, to pretend that I’m different and that you don’t know anyone like me.  But if I hide my identity I could be anybody: Your sister, your daughter, your friend, your neighbor or that nice lady you always see in the grocery store.  And that’s exactly what I want, because even if those women are not me they could share my profession.  We don’t have horns, cloven hooves or pointed teeth and we don’t abduct your children to sell them to “traffickers”; I guarantee you that unless you live in a town with under 1000 people there are at least a couple of us around, and if you live in an average-sized city there are dozens of us around, and there’s a good chance you know at least one of us by sight.  Let that sink in, and I hope it makes you very, very nervous because maybe then you’ll wake up out of this nightmare your brain appears to be trapped in.

What percentage of men see prostitutes?

It depends on who you talk to; estimates vary wildly, but the ones that sound about right to me claim that about 6% of men directly pay for sex “frequently”, 20% “occasionally”, and 69% at least once in their lives.  Considering that something like 67% of men have had extramarital sex at least once, those figures seem pretty credible to me.

What I find amazing is that so many people are so obtuse about the role prostitutes play in male infidelity.  Since only about 15% of married women cheat, many silly people conclude that either the men are lying when they say they have and/or the women are lying when they say they haven’t, because “all those men must be cheating with somebody.”  Just Google a few studies on infidelity and you’ll see what I mean; many commenters on such articles and even some of the educated idiots who compile the studies are so blinded by their monogamist bias that they are compelled to reach the incredibly naïve conclusion that each philandering man is paired up with one and only one adulterous woman, leading to the erroneous conclusion that either the male figures are too high or else  the female figures are too low.  None of these pundits can see the obvious explanation right in front of their faces; most male extracurricular activity is with prostitutes, each one of whom accounts for dozens of men!  In my busiest period (2000-2001) I alone had an average of 16 clients a week, at least 75% of them married.  And that’s just ONE whore; I can assure you the escort population of New Orleans could easily handle the 77% of straying husbands who weren’t paired up with straying wives.  This is actually good news for everyone; male readers can relax in the knowledge that, contrary to what the scare stories want you to believe, most wives really don’t cheat.  And female readers can take comfort in the fact that even if your husbands do get sex from somebody else, 77% of them are doing it with women who have absolutely no desire to break up anyone’s marriage.

Why does it matter what hotel I get to meet a provider? If I get a cheap hotel they don’t want to see me, but if I get an expensive one, there’s no problem.  Why is that?

There could be several factors at play here.  Part of it may be what I discussed in my column of October 9th:  If a man does not want to pay for a good hotel it could mean he cannot afford a good hotel, which means that the escort’s fee is also dearer to him than to a more affluent client and he will be more likely to try to get his “money’s worth” from her, thus making him far more demanding.  Also, allowing clients to hire cheap hotels attracts a poorer clientele with higher disease rates and less to lose socially if they cause trouble.

Another factor could be the escort’s belief in magic formulae (as discussed in my column of August 21st); some whores seem to believe that cops are too cheap to rent good hotel rooms and therefore cheap rooms are more suspect.  Nothing could be farther from the truth; police departments love to waste public money on prostitution “stings”, and the cost of even an expensive hotel room pales into insignificance beside the cost of taking a dozen cops off of real police work for hours so they can play sadistic sex games and ogle hookers.  And that’s assuming they actually have to pay for the rooms in the first place; some hotel chains let cops have rooms for free in the belief that it builds goodwill with them, and those with bluenosed management may actually let cops modify their rooms for “stings” because they want to discourage escorts from coming there once the word gets out.  Actually, in my experience mid-range hotels tend to be the worst; cheap ones have a “reputation” the cops want to avoid and some expensive ones refuse to allow police shenanigans because their upscale customers rightfully consider such activities objectionable and low-class.  If  you were a businessman paying $500 a night at a five-star hotel, would you want a mob of cretinous thugs playing “cops and robbers” down the hall from you?

Finally, snobby whores or those in the early stages of platinum pussy syndrome may think themselves too good to visit a Motel 6 or Super 8.  For myself, I wouldn’t see men who were staying in such places for the reasons already discussed in the first paragraph of my answer, but if a local client felt uncomfortable with an incall and merely wanted to rent such a room for a rendezvous I wasn’t too particular about it unless the place was a scary fleabag like the London Lodge or Tulane Motel.

You said most escorts don’t worry any more about getting HIV or other STDs by giving uncovered blow jobs, but what about colds, flu and other “regular” diseases?  Isn’t your risk of those higher without a condom?

As I discussed in my column of September 7th, the risk of oral transmission of HIV or hepatitis B is vanishingly low, and most other diseases have visible signs.  And while cold and flu-type diseases are transmitted easily even when there are no obvious symptoms, mere skin-to-skin contact involving hands, faces and other such areas will spread those diseases even if the man wears a condom from start to finish.  If you’re in bed with a guy you’re going to be exposed to his “common germs” no matter what precautions you take.  But since this does happen, I suspect escorts build up an immunity to such common pathogens; as a call girl I was in close contact with men from around the world, and I was sick less often than at any other time in my life.  I’ve never noticed escorts getting colds or whatever any more often than anybody else; in fact it seems to me that the people who get sick the most are the ones who are constantly “sanitizing” their entire environment with antibacterial products, thus robbing their bodies of the low-level exposure needed to build up antibodies.

That having been said, I did notice that I suffered from one particular condition more often when I was working than at any other times, and that was sore throat (and even laryngitis on a few occasions).  Part of this may simply have been due to abrasion during “deep throat”, but I suspect it was sometimes due to unknowing poor hygiene on the part of the client.  Think about it; we all know that the hands are the “germiest” parts of the body, and we’re told to wash our hands after using the toilet.  But I doubt many men wash their hands before urinating, so the bacteria on their dirty hands are transferred to the skin of their penises.  Thus, unless a man is freshly bathed when he visits a whore (or his wife for that matter) the exterior of his penis may in turn transfer that bacteria to the woman’s throat during oral sex and thereby cause minor infections.

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The Camel’s Nose

Posted in Current Events, News, Perception, Tyranny, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 2, 2010| 5 Comments »

Give them an inch and they’ll take a mile. –  Traditional saying

I find it terribly ironic that just as the American Library Association’s “Banned Books Week” (which, incidentally, ends today) was getting underway, legislation innocuously referred to as the “Combating Online Infringement and Counterfeits Act” was introduced into the US Congress by a  congresswhore in the employ of several big media conglomerates.  This bill is ostensibly intended to fight copyright violations (i.e. people posting pirated material online), but does so by giving Congress the power to create a blacklist of prohibited domains which internet service providers would be bound by law to filter, just as China and other oppressive regimes require ISPs operating within their borders to do.  Supposedly the only domains placed on the site would be those which “promoted” infringement, but of course judges and lawyers get to determine what constitutes “promotion” and how widespread it has to be.  For example, if some judge was paid by the RIAA to declare that too many YouTube postings violated the rights of their poor little multimillionaire “artists” the whole of YouTube could be shut down. This act gives the government far too much power; it is roughly equivalent to authorizing cops to use deadly force to stop speeders. And that isn’t even accounting for the “camel’s nose under the tent” effect; once Big Brother has the power to shut down big hunks of the internet for one specific purpose, does anyone honestly believe that he will only use that power for the stated purpose and no other?  Because if you do believe that, please PayPal $1000 to maggiemcneill@earthlink.net and I promise to perform a magical spell that will give you the power to see through girls’ clothes.  Honest, you can believe me!

Here’s a link to an article at The Huffington Post which explains the proposed legislation in more detail and includes a link to a petition.  It is written by Rhode Island State Representative David Segal, who incidentally was an opponent of the recriminalization of prostitution in Rhode Island last year as he discussed in this article.  Though a year old, the latter article is worth reading because it demonstrates that at least a few people in government recognize that the suppression of prostitutes is not only morally wrong, but that we actually form the best line of defense against real “human traffickers” (rather than the imaginary ones who can somehow be stopped by prohibiting adult women from earning a living).

Update to Out of Control (September 24th)

This item is paraphrased from an AP story released on September 30th:

Twenty-nine women have alleged that Toronto anesthesiologist Dr. George Doodnaught, 61, sexually assaulted them while they were unconscious, and there could be more victims.

Doodnaught was already facing three counts of sexual assault before police announced 26 more charges Thursday (September 30th); North York General Hospital said 25 of the new charges relate to assaults alleged to have occurred at the hospital during surgical procedures.

When Doodnaught was charged in March with the first three assaults, police released his photograph and asked other potential victims to contact them. “Twenty-six additional victims have come forward,” Toronto police Constable Tony Vella said Thursday. “Investigators believe that there could actually be many more victims in this case,” he added.

One of the alleged assaults took place in June 1992 and the rest between 2006 and this past February, when he was dismissed from the hospital, police said.  None of the allegations have been proven in court, and Doodnaught has not yet had the opportunity to defend himself from the charges.  Lawyer Adam Halioua, who represents the alleged victims in out-of-court civil negotiations with the hospital, said he could not comment on the new criminal charges because of the police investigation.  Doodnaught, who graduated from the University of Glasgow in 1974, has been an anesthesiologist since 1981 and worked at North York General for 28 years.

During an operation, a surgeon, surgical assistant, scrub nurse, circulating nurse and an anesthesiologist are usually in the room — but they can come and go, and there were no cameras in the operating rooms in the hospital.  The hospital’s chief of staff, Dr. David White, said in March it was possible for an anesthesiologist to be alone with a patient.  White had also said the police investigation would also examine whether the allegations are the result of vivid dreams that some patients experience as a result of the various medications and types of anesthesia.

I think we can safely discount the notion that 29 women all had dreams of being raped by the same anesthesiologist, so the question we are left with is “Why?”  Why on Earth would a respected doctor less than a decade away from retirement risk his liberty and reputation and violate both his patients’ trust and all of his medical ethics to do such a disgusting thing?  In my column of September 24th I discussed the bizarre, extreme and often criminal behaviors to which sexually frustrated men may resort, and it seems likely to me that something must have happened in 2006 to close off Doodnaught’s available means of sexual release.  So why didn’t this crazy bastard just hire whores instead of victimizing innocent women?  Even though doctors in Canada don’t make as much as their US counterparts, he certainly could’ve afforded streetwalkers (which are all he needed if an unconscious woman is enough to satisfy him).  And certainly the consequences of arrest for patronizing hookers can’t be nearly as great as the penalties for serial rape!  I guess some men just lose all decency and capacity for rational thought when they start “thinking with the wrong head.”

Here’s another example of the same thing, paraphrased from a Fox News release:

A man was arrested Tuesday (August 17th) in Fullerton, California for ejaculating twice into a female co-worker’s water bottle.  Police said that in January 2010, 31 year old Michael Kevin Lallana entered a female co-worker’s office at the Northwestern Mutual Mortgage Company in Newport Beach, California and ejaculated into a water bottle that was on her desk, leaving it there afterward.  The woman later returned and drank the contents of the water bottle, and claimed she felt ill afterward.  Approximately three months later (in April 2010), Lallana again ejaculated into another water bottle that the same woman left on her desk; again she returned to her office and drank from the bottle, but this time (after supposedly feeling ill again) the victim sent the remaining contents to a private lab to be tested.  The lab confirmed in June that the water bottle contained semen, and the victim reported the incidents to the Orange Police Department.

In early July, following further investigation by the police and the Orange County Crime Lab, Lallana was linked through DNA to the crimes and was arrested on August 17th outside of his home.  He was charged with two misdemeanor counts each of releasing an offensive material in a public place and assault, with special circumstances of committing a crime for sexual gratification.  If convicted, he faces a sentence of three months to three years in prison followed by mandatory sex offender registration.

Now, I personally find it difficult to believe the victim’s claim that she felt ill after ingesting semen; though it usually doesn’t taste all that great, it cannot make a woman sick after swallowing.  What I think much more likely is that she knew very well what the taste was, but felt too ashamed to admit it to anyone until the second incident, after which she invented the “illness” to avoid having to tell leering male cops that she knew what semen tastes like.  And thereby hangs the tale; who in his right mind could believe that an adult woman in 21st-century California would NOT know what semen tasted like?  Lalanna would have to be completely deranged to imagine he could sneak his seed into a woman’s mouth unnoticed!  The very idea exceeds all the bounds of rationality.  Once again, we have a man so sexually frustrated that all judgment and basic respect for others flies out the window, completely superseded by the need for sexual gratification through a perverse fantasy of sexually violating a woman unnoticed.  Perhaps if our work were not suppressed men like Lalanna and Doodnaught could gratify their urges safely and harmlessly before their brains degenerate to the point where they care about neither common human decency nor even their own safety.

Update to Advice for Clients (August 21st)

In my column of August 21st I gave advice for clients on how to treat their escorts; this video segment from the Sexplorations video series entitled “How To Treat a Sex Worker” is another examination of that same topic, based largely on the book Paying for It which I have already recommended on my bibliography page.  It doesn’t say anything very different from what I already covered in that column, but I think hearing the same advice from other women (and a gay escort as well) will serve to reinforce that these things are not mere pet peeves on my part.

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Q & A (Part Two)

Posted in Call types, Miscellaneous, Q & A, tagged , , , , , , , , , , on September 22, 2010| 8 Comments »

It is not the answer that enlightens, but the question. –  Eugene Ionesco

In today’s column I’ll answer a few more questions from my readers, starting with two more from the lady whose question closed yesterday’s column.  If there’s anything you want to know but don’t feel comfortable putting into a post reply (or just can’t find an appropriate post to attach it to), send me an email (maggiemcneill@earthlink.net) and I’ll answer it in my next mail column; if you really need a quicker response let me know and I’ll answer you directly.  Unless directed otherwise, I will treat all questions as confidential and will not reveal the screen name of the asker.

Were you able to enjoy your sexual peak even though you worked in the sex industry, or did working mean you wanted less sex for you?

My questioner is referring to the fact that women hit our sexual peak about 35, which for me was while I was working.  Obviously, I can only answer this one for myself; I’m sure some girls are “burned out” by sex work, whereas for others client sex and boyfriend sex are apples and oranges.  My personal answer depends on what you mean by the word “want”.  As I explained in my column of September 14th, my sexuality is almost entirely receptive; though I have no aversion to sex whatsoever, it’s pretty rare that I actually crave it.  In other words, if nobody propositions me I just tend to cruise along, not really thinking about sex or wanting it, yet if someone I find attractive or interesting or nice or generous approaches me for sex I tend to get interested quite easily unless there’s some reason I shouldn’t (in which case I can resist just as easily).  You might say my “on” switch isn’t hard to find; it just isn’t equipped with an automatic setting.

Personally, I love my sexuality and I can’t imagine being any other way.  I would hate to have an aggressive sexuality which drove me to actually seek out sex, yet I would equally hate being frigid and unresponsive.  And really, it’s a great way for a whore (or a wife) to be; the only times I can truly say I’m “not in the mood” are those in which I’m overwhelmed by some powerful physical condition such as illness or exhaustion.  If my husband is interested or a client has the money and I’m not completely debilitated, I’m ready to go (or can be within a few minutes) even if I’ve already had five men that day.  I suspect that my body advertises this extreme receptivity to men in some subtle way (such as by pheromones or body language), and that it is a large part of my sex appeal.

Did clients always want intercourse or did some just request blow jobs?

Clients want all sorts of different things.  I’d say about 75% want “full service”, and most of the other 25% some alternate form of release such as a blow job, hand job, “Russian” (tit-fucking), etc.  A small percentage prefer to do it themselves while the girl touches them, kisses them, talks dirty, plays with herself or otherwise provides stimulation; I described such a client on July 23rd.  A few don’t even want that; fetish clients (such as I discussed on August 28th and September 16th and 17th just want their fantasies fulfilled and usually take care of themselves later.  And a rare few don’t want any kind of sex at all, just companionship or advice or a shoulder to cry on.

Do men ever hire escorts to actually escort them somewhere?

Most definitely!  As I discussed on August 15th and 31st girls get taken places all the time, and on some occasions (such as the gentleman who first took me to Galatoire’s, mentioned in the latter column) they didn’t even want sex afterward.

In your column on terminology you didn’t mention DATY; I know what that is, but what’s DATO?

You are correct, I did forget that one.  As I said at the start of my column of September 7th it wasn’t intended to cover every conceivable term, but DATY is pretty elementary and I should have included it; mea culpa.  For those who don’t know, “DATY” is an acronym for “Dining At The Y”, meaning cunnilingus.  Though it resembles internet terms like BBBJ or GFE it actually dates back to the 1940s and may be of Australian origin.  It of course refers to the fact that a woman with her legs spread is shaped like an inverted letter “Y”, combined with a joking reference to “Y” as slang for “YMCA”.  DATO (“Dining At The O”) is formed by example of DATY, and refers to oral stimulation of the woman’s anus.  The term is never used to mean a whore performing this on a client; the usual term for that is “Asian” unless it’s in conjunction with a blow job, in which case it becomes Around the World.

Why are most massage parlors run and staffed by Asians?

I’m not sure, but I expect it’s for the same reason that most nail parlors are owned by Vietnamese people and many hotels are owned and run by Indians.  Asian people have very strong social networks and familial connections, so they employ family and friends and when those employees learn the business and make enough to go off on their own, they employ family and friends as well and soon a large number of similar businesses are owned by people of one particular ethnicity.  And since cultures in the Far East tend to be much more pragmatic about sex than Western ones, many Asian people consider a massage parlor to be a business like any other (to the horror of bluenosed American officials).

What’s the strangest place you’ve ever had an appointment?

Regular readers may remember from my column of August 16th that I am not fond of sex in weird places, but when I wrote that I meant mostly dirty, cramped or non-private places; I don’t mind places that are just weird as long as I don’t have to lie on something hard or dirty or risk getting arrested.  Most of the strange places I’ve seen clients have been in their places of business; lawyers in particular are famous for this.  I’ve had appointments in a number of law offices (usually on or under desks or on couches) and twice that I can recall in law libraries (ironic, no?)  I’ve also seen doctors in their offices, a minister in a multi-purpose room at his church, and a bar owner on one of his pool tables.  But the most unusual one would probably have to be the captain’s stateroom on a large tow boat on the Mississippi River; his crew took up a collection and purchased my services for him as a birthday present.  They were worried that no girl would agree to come out, but I couldn’t see any difference between a tow boat and any other place of business.  The first mate met me at the wharf and helped me aboard, and he and the other crewmen I met were polite and respectful; the captain was a handsome, educated man and his cabin was as private and comfortable as any man’s bedroom (and far neater and cleaner than most).

What were your age limits for clients?

It’s not unusual for clients to ask if such-and-such age is “too old”; amazingly, the ones who ask this are usually in the prime age range for clients, their fifties!  A fair number of clients are in their sixties, a few in their seventies and a very small number in their eighties; the oldest client whose age I can remember him stating was 86.  I had no upper limit on client age; while it’s true that men over 70 are difficult to deal with, they’re certainly no worse than drunks and at least they appreciate the girl’s effort.  I did, however, generally have a lower limit of 21, but made exceptions in special cases down to 18.  Under no circumstances would I ever agree to see a boy below 18, nor would I allow any of my girls to do so, but guys so young rarely have the necessary funds anyway.  Only twice in my career was I so uncertain of a boy’s age that I asked him to show me his driver’s license; the first such case actually had it ready (apparently his baby face had caused doubt in hookers before) and he was actually 23!  In the second case I responded to a request for a woman in her 30s from a room at the five-star Windsor Court, only to be received by what looked to me like a teenage boy!  As it turned out he was a 20-year-old skateboard champion in town for a competition, and the room had been arranged by his manager.  But he was attracted to women old enough to be his mother (and I definitely was) and was amazingly mature for his age; he knew more about how to treat a lady than many clients who were a decade or more older.

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Terminology

Posted in Call types, Perception, Words, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 7, 2010| 22 Comments »

“When I use a word,” Humpty Dumpty said in rather a scornful tone, “it means just what I choose it to mean — neither more nor less.” –  Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking Glass

Like all subcultures, whores and our clients use specialized language to describe various aspects of our trade and the specialized activities we perform.  Most of these are just slang terms used to replace a long descriptive phrase (for example, “cowgirl” replaces the rather cumbersome “woman on top position”), but others were originally intended to allow discussion of suppressed activities when official busybodies might be eavesdropping (on phone or internet communications).  Of course, a secret shared is no secret at all, so once a term becomes common enough for a client to be relatively certain that it will mean something to an escort (or vice versa), they can also be sure the term is equally well-known to the cops.  Today I’d just like to give you a brief overview of a few of the more common terms used in and about our trade.  Many of these originated on the internet; some were first used among streetwalkers, while still others may be peculiar to New Orleans (which is the only place I ever worked).

Around the World means oral stimulation of the man’s anus as well as his genitals; as one might expect, the percentage of working girls who will grant this particular request is fairly slim even in the lower echelons.  Even if one chooses to ignore the considerable hygeine issues, the chance of contracting hepatitis A or other diseases is in my considered opinion far too high to risk.

BBBJ stands for “Bareback Blow Job”, in other words fellatio without a condom.  In the days immediately after the discovery of AIDS this was widely considered unsafe, and authorities encouraged people to use condoms even during oral sex.  Almost three decades of research, however, have failed to turn up even one single documented case of HIV transmission via oral sex, and the last figure I saw was 0.04% chance of infection due to blood seepage into an undetected mouth sore.  Since that’s roughly similar to the chance of being struck by lightning while walking in the rain, most call girls and escorts don’t worry about it much any more.  Hepatitis B is transmitted much as HIV is, though probably at a slightly higher chance.  Other venereal diseases (including venereal warts and herpes) can certainly be transmitted via oral sex, but since they have visible signs most of the risk can be avoided via careful visual inspection (as I’ve discussed before), copious salivation (which most men find visually stimulating anyhow) and disallowing ejaculation into one’s mouth.  The latter requires careful monitoring of the client’s progress; I always asked him to warn me but also assumed he would not because unfortunately a lot of men are complete assholes on this particular subject and will not give warning despite the increased risk to the girl.

Cowgirl we’ve already discussed; the only reason I’m mentioning it here again is because many of my readers are probably unfamiliar with the terms for its variations, reverse cowgirl (woman on top, facing the man’s feet) and Asian cowgirl (as normal cowgirl but with one’s feet on the bed raising the whole body up and down rather than simply rocking back and forth).

Deep Throat means taking a man’s penis all the way into one’s mouth.  With a little practice it isn’t difficult, and since it impresses the hell out of men it’s well worth learning.  The trick is to suppress the gag reflex; I suggest practicing on bananas.  Few men are long enough to actually go down one’s throat, and even those that are can be handled unless they are oddly-shaped (as I’ll discuss tomorrow).

Donation is originally an internet term; it simply means “fee”, as in “how much is your donation?”

Facial means ejaculation onto a woman’s face.  Men who like to do this really like it, but some girls won’t allow it.  Personally I was never bothered by it; it’s not difficult to keep one’s mouth and eyes shut, and since I was blessed with a clear complexion and lovely natural coloring I never needed to wear makeup in those days anyhow.  I could therefore simply have a warm, damp washcloth handy for initial cleanup and then wash my face completely afterward.  I can see how a girl who needs makeup would be averse to clients doing this, however, since it would necessitate a great deal more effort to restore her looks afterward than it did mine.  It also tends to get in one’s hair, but can be brushed out in the short term and thoroughly removed by shampoo later.  Amateurs who say “I would never let a man do that to me!” or “That’s so demeaning!” need to remember those statements when asking “Why does my husband hire whores when I give him plenty of sex?”

Full service simply means intercourse, as opposed to just oral sex or masturbation (the latter being the specialty of Asian massage parlors).

GFE means “Girl Friend Experience”; it’s a highly subjective term but generally means that the escort will cuddle, kiss, refrain from obvious clockwatching or otherwise make the experience seem much more natural and less mechanical.  A high percentage of call girls provide either “GFE” or its converse, the “PSE” (some men believe that the two are not mutually exclusive within a single call, but I beg to differ).  Of late, I have noticed a distressing tendency in internet venues to attempt to define a GFE by mechanistic criteria (such as whether the girl allows intrusive tongue kissing); IMHO this completely flies in the face of the very idea of a GFE, which is determined by how the girl makes the client feel rather than by a checklist.

Greek means anal sex.  It isn’t commonly offered because one simply can’t trust a client to follow the instructions necessary to keep the experience from being painful, but there are always specialists who cater to customers who want it.

Hobbyist is an internet term which means a client who sees escorts as a continuing hobby rather than as an occasional pleasure.  Hobbyists generally frequent internet boards dedicated to their hobby and share information with each other; some of them are excellent clients because they know what’s expected of them, never quibble about money, treat girls well and are scrupulous about keeping appointments.  Unfortunately, the rest of them enjoy the hobby itself more than the girls, and can be nasty and exploitative.  Sometimes the term is used in a broader sense to mean any client, but I think it’s more useful in the strict sense.

John is a term used mostly by police, the media and others outside The Life for a customer, as in “John Doe” since they are anonymous.  The first recorded appearance of the term in print is from 1911, but it is unclear whether it originated among streetwalkers or started as an outsiders’ term from the beginning.  Since I have never associated with streetwalkers or worked anywhere but New Orleans I can’t speak for whether any working girls actually use the term, but what I can say is that I never heard one do so, not even once, not even as a joke.  I’ve heard “client”, “customer”, “date”, “patron” and even (once) “trick”, but never “john”.  I myself always preferred “gentleman”, not merely because it’s polite but also evokes Amanda Wingfield’s “gentleman callers” in my mind.

MSOG means “Multiple Shots On Goal”, in other words the girl allows the man to have intercourse with her more than once if he can.  It’s an internet term, and I must admit I giggled when it was explained to me.  Many girls won’t allow it, which IMHO is rather stupid on their parts since this exists largely in the realm of male fantasy.  What I mean by that is, though a large percentage of men ask for it (by initials or otherwise), only a tiny percentage can actually accomplish it within the time allotted.  So there’s no harm in agreeing to this because most clients will be too spent after the first time even to attempt it again, and a gentle “but sweetie, if it took you 35 minutes the first time how do you expect to do it a second time in ten?” will take care of most of the rest.  And on those rare occasions where the client is both quick on the trigger and able to perform again, why not let him go twice?  It’s his hour, after all, and he paid good money for it.

Pearl Necklace means ejaculation onto a woman’s tits.  This can turn into an unplanned facial if the man ejaculates energetically enough.

Popped means the same as “busted”, i.e. arrested.

Protection simply means condoms.  A lot of people have their own idiosyncratic terms; one girl I knew used to call them “party balloons” and Doug used to refer to them as “dancing slippers” (as in, “get out your dancing slippers, I’ve got a call for you”).

Provider is a neutral internet term for an escort, as in “provider of services”. I don’t much care for this one, as it always reminds me of “The Providers”, those disembodied brains who once abducted Captain Kirk.

PSE stands for “Porn Star Experience”.  This is slightly less subjective than its converse “GFE”, and refers to a very energetic escort who is adept at visually impressive stunts like deep throat and accepting of facials and other such porn-movie staples.

Russian is holding one’s tits together so a man can rub himself between them; obviously, it’s only possible with rather large tits.

Trick is old slang for a session with a client (as in “turn a trick”) or sometimes even a client himself.  It first appeared in print around the same time as “John”, and is still used today among streetwalkers and lower-class escorts in some areas (including New Orleans).  Higher-class girls generally prefer “date” or “call”, and I’ve also heard “job” or “deal”; working girls with musical backgrounds sometimes use “gig”.

Troublemakers is the term I preferred for the nasty, sadistic busybodies referred to by others as pigs, liars, busybodies, blue boys, heat, LE and a number of other things…in other words, cops, the single greatest threat to any hooker’s health, safety and livelihood.

So, there’s a quick explanation of a very few terms; there are plenty of others, but these are most of the common ones which sprang immediately to mind (though I wouldn’t be surprised if I overlooked a really obvious term or two).  As I said above, these are the ones I know from the internet and New Orleans; to list every one from around the world would probably fill a slim dictionary.

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Aversions

Posted in Perception, tagged , , , , , , , , on August 16, 2010| 76 Comments »

The total amount of undesired sex endured by women is probably greater in marriage than in prostitution. –  Bertrand Russell

In a response-thread following my column of August 11th, Sailor Barsoom and I discussed the difference between what women want and what men think we want, and I theorized about why so few women are willing to tell men the truth about it.  I pointed out that because women are taught that sex is “dirty” they do not generally want to talk about it, and also that since most women instinctively wish to please our men we tend not to criticize male performance because we don’t want to hurt your egos.  Other factors include the unfortunate female tendency to forget that men cannot read between the lines as well as we can and are therefore mystified or infuriated by female guessing games of the “You should know what’s wrong without being told!” variety; and, the unfortunate male tendency to think that if a little of something is good a LOT of it would be much better.  Some problems arise from simple differences in terminology; an English-speaking person would probably be happy to be offered a “gift”, but a German might call the police because the German word gift means “poison” in English.  As I mentioned in the aforementioned thread, when men say “sex” they usually mean “intercourse”, while women mean everything from kissing to afterglow.  So if a woman says she wants “sex” to last hours, a man might think she actually wants to be pumped for hours, while in reality she means no such thing.

What it all boils down to is that ignorance breeds conflict, and the absolute WORST sort of ignorance is that which, rather than being characterized by a dearth of information, instead consists of a surfeit of misinformation; though both sexes are equally ignorant of the other’s sexuality, the latter type of ignorance is much more common among men.  Most women know little to nothing about male sexuality (many are actually willfully ignorant), but most modern men are thoroughly convinced they know all about female sexuality even if all they actually know is a lot of myths, advertising spiel, propaganda and outright lies promoted by anyone with an agenda.  One of my primary motivations in creating this site was to help dispel both kinds of ignorance, both by providing information and by exploding myths.  And one of the most pernicious of these myths is the obviously false yet doggedly persistent notion, strangely common among both men and women, that most members of the opposite sex want the same thing as each other, or even worse that they want the same thing as the opposite sex!  The truth, however, is that while there are some things 90% of men enjoy and some things 70% of women enjoy, and some things that 25% of humans enjoy, there is absolutely nothing which everybody wants all the time.  This may seem obvious to the more worldly-wise reader, but you’d be amazed how many people don’t realize it.

So what I would like to do today is talk about some of the things I, personally, dislike in sex.  I’m not doing this out of the bizarre exhibitionist impulse which inspires so many modern people to reveal their entire lives to complete strangers on Facebook or “reality” TV shows; after all, my neighbors don’t know me as Maggie McNeill.  No, my motivation here is to demonstrate that even a woman as sexually open-minded as I am still has her own idiosyncrasies, so if you think “every woman” likes some of these things you would be wrong.  If I know or suspect that a particular dislike is common either among whores or among the female population in general I’ll mention it, and if any of my female readers feel brave enough to comment on their own dislikes (or their feelings about the ones I dislike) I invite them to do so.  Male readers need not feel left out; if there’s anything that “all men like” which you don’t (such as watching two girls together) please feel free to weigh in.

Woman on Top Position: I know I’m not alone in hating this one because I’ve talked to quite a few others who absolutely abhor it, though one wouldn’t know it from watching modern Hollywood movies.  IMHO this is the lazy man’s dream position, because it requires the woman to do all the work.  It’s great for men with small penises (big ones tend to bottom out) and excellent for premature ejaculators because it takes most men at least three times as long to come this way as in one of the male-dominant positions; once a man starts to get close he tends to speed up, but if the woman sets the pace he can instead concentrate on controlling it and thereby stop nature from taking its course.  For this reason I can’t comprehend why any whore would prefer it, though I suppose some convince themselves that it puts them “in control” when in fact the opposite is true; one is far more in control with the man on top because one can control the angle and depth of penetration with one’s thighs and hips and one’s hands are more free to touch, stroke or whatever.  In addition to everything else, “cowgirl” is just way too acrobatic for me, and I’m just not built to pump my pelvis up and down or back and forth like that.

Tongue in the Ear:  You really do not want to see my reaction to this.  Trust me.  Really.  A lot of women do seem to like it, but I’m not among them.

Sex in Weird Places:  I know most guys and even a lot of women think this is very sexy, but as far as I am concerned a bed is more than adequate as a venue for sexual relations.  Sand, dirt, dry leaves, insects, spiders or other, less identifiable debris in my genitalia are NOT my idea of a smashing good time, nor is being arrested for indecent exposure, nor having my head banged repeatedly against concrete, nor being crammed into some weird, cramped, smelly, unsanitary or all of the above position.

Pelvic Gyrations:  Some men (especially of one particular ethnic group) seem to believe that moving their bodies from side to side and thus entering a woman from various angles like some kind of eccentric crankshaft is an advanced and effective sexual technique, but it’s so silly-looking and uncomfortable that even when it isn’t actually painful I have to fight back laughter.

Hickies:  I know there is some primitive part of a man that wishes to leave his “mark” on a woman, but that is what buying her jewelry is for.  Ugly purple bruises do not go with anything, and can put a working whore out of business for days if they can’t be concealed with makeup.

Gynecological Examination:  I understand that men are visual creatures, but let’s face it:  A woman’s genitals are not exactly pretty, and visiting the gynecologist is not exactly erotic.  So for a man to closely examine my folds as if he were looking for ticks, or to stare into my vulva as though he expected to see the future in it, makes me very uncomfortable and triggers paranoid feelings about how I might look or smell no matter how carefully I clean myself before, after and between customers.  I know for a fact I’m not remotely alone in despising this.

Foodstuffs:  Grapes, bananas and other solid foods are fine; what I am referring to here are messy, sticky substances like caramel, honey, whipped cream, etc.  Not only is this plain nasty, guess which partner is stuck cleaning the sheets?

Fingers Jammed into Orifices:  I’m not really sure what pleasure men derive from this, though I suspect it may be nostalgia for teenage groping in cars.  Fingers are nubbly, rough and have nails; they are sometimes dirty and/or calloused.  A little finger is a LOT more painful than a big penis.  I know lots of girls who hate this, especially whores (I even saw it in a published list of “don’ts” for escort clients).  If you really want to maximize the annoyance potential, jam a few fingers into a girl’s vagina and anus simultaneously without benefit of lubrication, wriggle them around violently and then ask her in a leering voice if she likes it.

Female on Male BDSM:  Although it doesn’t do anything for me, money is money.  However, I refuse to ever let a man inside of me once I have dominated him (though some clients do indeed seem to think they’re going to get that).  Given that few if any professional dominatrices will have intercourse with customers, I suspect that dislike of the combination is pretty widespread.

Fellatio by Force:  I think everyone who has had the privilege of being on the receiving end will agree that I am quite expert at this activity; it is therefore unnecessary for the recipient to guide me by putting his hand behind my head and forcing it down onto his member until I am gagging and unable to breathe.  I have only ever talked to one girl who was turned on by this, and she was a sexual submissive who was partial to rape fantasy; for whores this maneuver is especially threatening because it might be intentional rather than just something guys do when they’re excited.

Cunnilingus:  I’m definitely in the minority on this one, because most women love it (though I do know a few others who don’t).  I don’t hate it or anything, but neither does it do much for me; my clitoris is small and responds much more readily to indirect stimulation (by finger or intercourse) than direct.  Most girls can at least get me aroused by doing it, but few men seem to know anything beyond the “dog’s water bowl” and “rub whiskered face into crotch” techniques.

Bad Kissing:  Because so many men are bad kissers, I am very reluctant to kiss even regulars whom I suspect may be among them.  There are three main classes of bad kissers:  The Invader, who thinks the point of kissing is to shove his tongue all the way down one’s throat and leave it there for as long as possible; the Slobberer, who thinks the point of kissing is to remove all of one’s makeup with his mouth; and the Lizard, who flicks his tongue in and out of one’s mouth about twice per second, usually while wriggling it about wildly.  The first two types are bad enough, but the Lizard makes me want to run screaming from the room.  General advice for men:  Most women kiss others in the same way as they like to be kissed.

Around the World:  Although a change of position during intercourse is sometimes stimulating, it is unnecessary and annoying to try every position in the bloody Kama Sutra during every session.  Moving furniture is not erotic.

Obviously, I could tolerate some of these in customers because it was for work rather than fun and had to be endured only for an hour at most.  But can you imagine if I were an ignorant virgin married to a man who did one or several of these things?  I might very well have ended up in that 20% of American women who think of sex as a “necessary ordeal.”  As in so many other areas of human interaction, knowledge and communication go a long way toward preventing resentment and strife.

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Couples (Part Two)

Posted in Call types, tagged , , , , , , , on July 17, 2010| 10 Comments »

Every woman is supposed to have the same set of motives, or else to be a monster. –  George Eliot

Yesterday I talked about couple calls, those in which an established couple (whether married or not) takes a whore into their bed so as to allow the husband either to experience two women at the same time or to see two women together, usually both.  If you missed that column I suggest you scroll down and read it first, because this one is written with the assumption that you’ve already read the other.

A couple call is different from a two-girl call in that the latter involves two professional women rather than one professional and one amateur; despite the fact that the fantasy is the same, the dynamic is quite different because in the two-girl call the whores generally know each other and may even have had similar dates together before.  There were two girls in particular with whom I really enjoyed doing these sorts of calls, and since they liked me as well such calls usually went smoothly and professionally, with few surprises.  The same cannot be said of couple calls; since most of the time the wife has never before been naked in bed with another woman, her reaction is unpredictable and potentially problematic.  Over time, though, I had developed several very effective techniques for putting wives at ease, letting them know that I was not a rival and reassuring them that they were to be in control of the proceedings; as a result, I rarely had any problems with them, except for the few examples mentioned in yesterday’s column.  I had never bothered to develop any special strategies for dealing with the husbands in such calls because I deemed them unnecessary; men were always so happy to find themselves in bed with two women that they presented no problems whatsoever.  The one single exception to this rule I ever encountered, however, turned into what was undoubtedly the worst couple call of my entire professional career.

In the summer of 2005 I went to see a very young couple in a very expensive hotel; he was 29 and she was 19 and absolutely gorgeous, with a stunning figure and the face of an angel. After my usual introductory talk we undressed and started the proceedings, and I quickly discovered that the young lady was a veritable volcano of repressed lesbian passion; I honestly don’t think I’ve ever been kissed so passionately by anyone, male or female, in my entire life.  And when she wasn’t kissing me she couldn’t stop looking at me and touching me, whispering things like “Oh God, you are so beautiful!”  Needless to say I was equally turned on and so everything seemed to be going extremely well, when suddenly the boyfriend got up and went over to sit in a chair with an unmistakably angry expression on his face.

The girl and I looked at each other quizzically and then I asked him, “is something wrong?”

He replied, “No, nothing, just keep doing what you’re doing.”  This was clearly a lie; he was absolutely furious.  So I prodded him a little more, and after a few more denials he suddenly exploded, calling his girlfriend a “dyke” and a “slut” and several other less-telling dirty names.  The poor girl was thunderstruck; his bizarre reaction was as startling to her as it was to me.  She shot me a pleading glance, and though I wanted nothing more than to slap this asshole into next week I couldn’t let that sweet little creature deal with the abusive freak alone once I eventually left.  So I swallowed my pride, put on the sweetest face I could manage, pushed my righteous anger down as far as it would go and literally begged the sleazy son of a bitch to come back to bed with us, wheedling and cajoling him in my most ingratiating manner.  Realizing what I was doing, the girl followed my lead and joined in, and soon the petulant little brat was back between us, enjoying the caresses of two women (though speaking for myself, I would’ve preferred to bite his cock off rather than do to it what I was doing).  As I worked, I thought about what had occurred and realized that, unlike normal men who would have been ecstatic about watching such a hot girl-girl scene, this whiny baby had presumed that we would both be so caught up in worshipping his almighty studliness that we would only take interest in each other when he ordered it to please himself.  Instead, his fragile ego was shattered by seeing his girlfriend more interested in me than in him; obviously it was okay for him to want sex with a strange woman, but not for her to desire the same thing.

Eventually, after forcing her to accept him orally for an absolutely punishing length of time, he finished and got up without a word, heading for the bathroom.  I held her closely, keeping an eye open for his return, but soon heard the shower and knew it was safe to ask her what the hell that was all about.  She whispered that he was from a very wealthy family and was very spoiled; she had made the mistake of accepting his invitation to come to New Orleans (they were from Ohio) and soon discovered that if she didn’t dance to his tune he would strand her there without any money of her own.  This of course made me still angrier; I told her she could come with me if she wanted, that I had an extra bed and we could arrange for her flight home in the morning (at my expense if necessary).  But though she was clearly appreciative of the offer, she explained that it would be better for her in the long run to return with him; so, I wrote my cell phone number on one of my business cards and insisted she get out and call me if he later became completely unmanageable.  She thanked me, hid the card in her purse and kissed me, and I dressed and waited until he got out of the shower so I could see for myself that he seemed calmer; she never did call, though, and all that weekend I prayed she would get home safely and promptly dump the selfish prick.

What a contrast between this jealous, narcissistic pig and the lady from Mandeville (a suburb north of Lake Pontchartrain) who arranged what may have been the best couple call I ever went on; she was a shining example of the true spirit of giving, of sincere love and the real desire to make one’s partner happy.  She called me one afternoon (in 2002, I think) and explained that for their 15th wedding anniversary she had decided to give her husband a gift he would never forget.  The two of them were high school sweethearts, he a football player and she a cheerleader; they had married soon after graduation and neither had ever been with anyone else.  They both worked (he in some sort of managerial capacity and she in real estate) and had chosen to delay children until they were financially comfortable, so they had a lovely house in an upscale neighborhood and could well afford an occasional extravagance.  On this particular occasion, that meant me; she proposed to hire me for three hours in order to fulfill her husband’s fantasy of seeing her make love to another woman.

I could not help but be impressed with how carefully she had planned the whole thing.  We ran her credit card right then so we needn’t worry about it later and her husband wouldn’t know how much it had cost.  I was to attach the slip to a few sheets of legal paper in a manila envelope, then arrive at their house at a certain time immediately after dinner (which she had perfectly timed); while dining she was to tell her husband that a girl from work would be dropping by later with papers for her to sign.  And so it unfolded like clockwork; I arrived within the instructed time range, wearing an attractive but businesslike dress and carrying the folder, and was introduced as Maggie from work.  After she signed the concealed transaction slip, I put the folder on the kitchen table, made small talk for a few minutes and then, as I had been instructed, sidled up behind the unsuspecting gentleman and began to rub his shoulders.  The move caught him off-guard, and he looked up at me and then across to his wife, who could no longer suppress the giggles; I then explained exactly what his beloved had done for him, and his reaction was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.

We adjourned to the bedroom and undressed; her husband sat in a chair which afforded a good view and proceeded to take care of himself while we gave him a show.  She was willing, but at first very nervous and awkward; she kept saying things like “This feels so weird!” until I whispered in her ear that such talk might ruin her husband’s mood, upon which she nodded and whispered back a promise to try harder.  The funniest thing she said during this stage of the game was as she held me around the waist, “You have such a strange shape!”  I was a little taken aback and told her that no one had ever described my figure that way before, whereupon she replied, “Oh, what I mean is that you HAVE a shape, and I’m not used to that!”  We all laughed, and it served to break the tension; she quickly relaxed under my caresses, returning them diffidently at first but soon with greater interest, and before long she was kissing me fervently and unmistakably approaching climax.

When she arrived, there was no mistaking it, and then this prim little suburban wife turned into a girl I would’ve hired in a heartbeat.  Her language became much coarser and her demeanor more passionate and demanding; there was absolutely no way I could steal a glance to see how her husband was getting on, because she required my entire attention.  The dam had burst, and if I wrote much more about the next two hours it would violate my statement that I am not here to provide wanking material.  Suffice it to say that she soon expanded the activity to include her husband, that if we had videotaped it we might all three have considerably larger bank accounts today, and that the lady accomplished her plan to give her man a truly unforgettable anniversary present.  I have no doubt that the two of them are still together today, because that kind of unselfish love can resist any pressure which might attempt to tear their marriage apart.

And there you have the two extremes:  Pathological selfishness vs. unselfish giving, exploitation vs. sharing, sexual repression vs. sexual acceptance, fear and doubt vs. courageous exploration.  In most cases the couple call is just a pleasant experiment, but for some it becomes an emotional crucible in which weak material disintegrates and strong material fuses into a new kind of alloy.  As I used to tell my customers, it definitely isn’t for everybody.  But for the confident and unselfish woman it can be the means of not only expressing the depth of her commitment to her husband’s sexual happiness, but also a way in which to explore a part of herself whose existence she may not even have suspected.

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