Pay me and i'll love you

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One month as a sex worker, the story so far.


About a month ago I had my interview for a very…interesting, maybe unusual job.
And it went great, I got it after about one hour of talking and explaining.
We mostly talked about my background, my motivation, a bit about my experiences and they explained to me what I would have to expect and how the whole thing would work.
I have to admit, I was quite unsure at first, a bit afraid and sceptic whether I really wanted to take the job and take a step into this whole new world, that I was not familiar with or just wait for another one, but I talked to two of the closest people in my life and made sure that they were okay with it. One of them was my mother, the other one my boyfriend.

Well, now a short exclaimer, that I didn’t want to leave out:
If you want to take a certain job, try out something new or in general, have to make a decision that influences your whole life, talk with someone about it.
But don’t let them decide for you, you’re the one who’s in charge.
Do what feels right for you, not what your mother expects you to do or what your boyfriend wants you to be.
I was lucky enough to have a mother who let me make my own choices (and mistakes) and would never stand in my way, and I’m clever enough to choose a boyfriend who is also okay with my choice and supports me as much as he can.
Anyway, so I accepted the job offer and took part in an introduction and training, which basically explained all the rules, how far I’m allowed to go, when and how to initiate the contact and the security things, like who I could talk to if I needed help, how to contact authorities, if I met someone who was either underage or a criminal and how I’m obligated to protect the identities and personal details of my clients.
And then all of a sudden, it started.
Now I won’t go into details, because I’m still doing the job and I have to protect my clients and everything involved, but I will talk about how it felt at first and how it influenced my view of the world and my private life.
At first I was of course very insecure and a bit scared, I didn’t know what would happen and how I would react.
But I adjusted very fast and whereas I was overthinking a lot at first, it all came kind of naturally (came…hahha) to me a few days in.
Something that I noticed was, that I tried to create a kind of character for myself to hide behind, to protect my feelings and to keep the experience a job and not an intimate, personal thing, but with time, the character I made for myself and my actual self kind of melted together.
And it wasn’t a bad thing, I still keep the distance between at-work-lili and private-life-lili, but it made the woman I was trying to embody more authentic: if I didn’t just nod and smile the whole time, but reacted sarcastic and fought playfully back.
Now, the good thing is, that with that kind of job, you have a lot of freedom and you’re able to experiment with your sexuality, try new things and just turn off your head and let go.
The bad thing is, that your clients will do the same.
While you can take a break from reality and be someone else for a few hours, they as well leave their day to day life behind and let out the beast or want to live out their darkest fantasies.
Which isn’t always very pleasant.
This shaped my view of the world quite a bit, I’m only 22 and not that experienced with the world and I haven’t met that many people, and most of the people I met there were kinda strange.
There are only 5 types of guys I met so far: the perverted old man, the shy teenager, the outcast nerd, the bored middle-aged man , and the emotional dead player
I can’t even decide which one is the worst, the perverts, who dream of little girls and weird roleplays; the shy teenagers which have never even seen a vagina, who are boring and tough to talk to; the outcast nerd, who wears a fedora, is a meninist and I despite him with every part of my soul, but still have to kiss his ass; the bored middle-aged men, who cheats on his wife and doesn’t care about his kids; or the player, who is arrogant and confident about his abilities as a lover, but is egoistic and has never even heard of the clitoris.
Of course I was expecting this job to have consequences for my private life, my father is mad and disappointed that I’m a sex worker, my mother doesn’t want to hear anything about it and pretends like it doesn’t exist and naturally it had a big influence on my relationship with my boyfriend.
Not talking is always the worst kind of communication, so I did my best to talk openly about it, to let him know when I was working and how I was doing.
Yes, jealousy can be an issue, but if you trust each other and vocalise your fears, it will not sabotage your relationship.
Now, the thing that suffers the most out of all of it, is your sex life.
I have to admit, I struggled switching between work-lili and private-life-lili the first few times, because even though sex was never something too intimate or even ‘holy’ for me, it takes it’s toll on you, if you share that with strangers for example from Monday until Friday and with someone you love on the weekends.
It took me a while, to realise that sex isn’t always sex. Yes, sometimes it’s just a fuck and just pleasure and lust, but with someone like my boyfriend even a rough quickie is never just fucking, but always (excuse the cheesy-ness) love making.
With strangers it’s bend-me-over-penis-in-vagina-in-out-orgasm-done, with him it’s so much more than that, and it still keeps growing (not just his dick). When I’m with him, I’m not work-lili, not thinking about what I need to do to make it better for the man or how to talk the dirtiest dirt to keep the clients coming back, with him I’m smiling and comfortable and probably casually watching tv while we do it.

All in all I can say that I do not regret taking this job, and may not always be fun and I certainly won’t get rich that way, but it’s not a “bad” or “dirty” thing to do, it’s a normal job and if I have the choice between doing boring office stuff or making a stranger horny and cum, I’d pick the second option.

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