The day after my first Tantric session, a regular client was in town. Calvin and I originally met through the agency, but have since exchanged private information (a big no-no, but what they don’t know can’t hurt me), and we had an agreement to meet up whenever we were both free and in Vancouver at the same time. He travels here frequently on business. We usually go for dinner or order room service, and have sex, and talk. I enjoy his company, and I don’t mind the sex, although admittedly I’m not wildly attracted to him. Still, we have had our adventures. I’ve set up a couple of threesomes for him, with a couple girls from the agency.
He once offered me marriage/an arrangement ‘if I ever wanted to settle down.’ He is the rich old guy my Dad always half-jokingly advised me to marry. ‘Marry a rich man old enough that he’ll die soon enough that you’ll still be young and have an easy time finding someone else.’
Um, yeah. . .
I didn’t want to meet him this time. I mean, I like him, I care about him, but after the loving, passionate, connected sex I’ve been having with Josh, I don’t want to go through the motions anymore.
I met Calvin at the hotel casino. He looked older than the last time we met, and more fragile. We made small-talk as we went up to his room. He had asked me to come early so we could eat together. I was hungry. I felt sad, small, frustrated at the prospect of being intimate with him.
We got to the room, and he launched into a story of his last visit to Vancouver. I had been with Josh and had told Calvin that I was out of town (because I didn’t want him to know that I was dating someone). He had, apparently, called another escort service, and he ended up knowing the girl they sent him. She had agreed to stay, even though they knew each other personally. “Wow, she knew how to fuck! I told her she had the tightest pussy I’ve had in years.”
I flinched at the words. If I was feeling uninspired erotically before, I sure was now! All the times that my body had been commented on, criticized, evaluated by clients flashed through my mind. I used to have a thick skin. I used to be able to overlook these things to survive. Now, suddenly, I felt like so much meat on the butcher’s block, drawn and quartered, inspected, evaluated, and found wanting. I hated that my livelihood for the past year and a half depended so much on how men perceive my sex appeal. What a liberation it would be to be free of all this!
“I’m sorry,” he said. “That was stupid of me to say.”
“It’s fine,” I snapped. I contemplated walking out the door.
“No, you’re upset with me. I’m sorry.” He came over and gave me a hug and tried to kiss me. I didn’t like his breath. His breath was never my favorite, but suddenly it seemed unbearable. I remembered Josh’s mouth, his beautiful eyes, his body, the way his belly pressed into mine when he was deep inside me, how I came over and over again in his embrace. That was how it was supposed to be! Not like this. What was I doing in this room?
“I have no right to be upset,” I said. “I know the routine. I just feel awkward hearing about it in so much detail and being compared to her.” To the newer, younger model, the one that is coveted in the industry. Because the mainstream escort industry prizes youth above experience, and they have no qualms about reeling them in young and chewing them up and spitting them out with drug problems and a penchant for expensive shoes when they are no longer ‘fresh.’
“I am not comparing. You’re wonderful baby.”
“Should we order food?”
We ordered a couple steaks and a bottle of wine.
He nudged me into the bedroom and I complied. Soon, we were naked and he was touching me all over. I was going along with it, but only going through the motions. My whole body felt tense and closed. It was such a sharp contrast to how I felt with Josh, how surrendered and open I am with him, how much I love every inch of his body, his scent, even the taste of his sweat is delicious to me.
When Calvin started fucking me, I had to consciously remind myself to react as though I were enjoying it. I felt visceral disgust, which was new. I had never felt this way fucking Calvin before. ‘Just get it over with,’ I thought. ‘Just come, then you won’t be able to go again, and I get to eat my steak and get paid and I don’t have to feel this awful anymore.’
The food arrived. A room service waiter came in and opened the wine, leaving the steaks on the table in the other room. He came back to bed and wanted to keep going. I reluctantly bounced on his dick, quickly, hoping he would blow his load and get me off the hook. “Slow down, baby, I want to make it last.”
He touched my face and gave me tons of compliments while I forced myself to be slow about it. I felt myself draw away with each compliment. I didn’t want him to adore me like that. I wanted Josh to adore me like that.
“I’m really hungry,” I said.
“Ok, let’s eat.”
He had a conference call during dinner, so I ate my steak in silence, making sure to wash it down with a lot of wine. Perhaps the wine would help numb me out so I could do this one last time.
He came back and I kept him company while he ate. We finished the wine before going back to bed. We fumbled around together. His cock wasn’t getting hard. I half-heartedly gave him oral sex, to no avail. “Stop,” he said. “I just want to feel you next to me.”
I cuddled up to him. ‘How long is this gonna take?’ I wondered silently.
Suddenly, I was overcome with emotions. The pain of the last several months, the bad clients, the overwhelming love I feel for Josh, the pressures of being an escort, all welled up in me. I fought back tears.
“What’s wrong?” He asked.
“It’s not a big deal,” I said.
“No, tell me. I want to know what’s going on.”
At this, the floodgates opened and I wept. He held me. “Let it out. It’s ok.”
“I care about you, Calvin,” I said. “But I don’t feel right doing this. I’ve been seeing someone,” I continued, gingerly. I hoped he wouldn’t be too upset.
“I think that’s wonderful,” he said, to my surprise.
“I really care about him. I love him. But why would anyone want to be with me if I’m doing this? How can I be with someone and fuck other people for money?”
“You can’t, sweetie. But you’re doing massage now, and that’s great.” I had told him about my new massage career (editing out the Tantric part, of course) during our dinner. “I won’t text you looking for sex anymore. I do still want to be your friend,” he said. “I’ve told you things I’ve never told anyone else. You are a very special lady. And you don’t have to tell this man that you worked as an escort. It shouldn’t matter. There is always forgiveness, no matter what we do.”
I wept. “Thank you. I want to be your friend too.”
It all came out. I told him about the bad seven hour fetish client who spat on me and pulled my hair. “I’m so burned out. I just can’t do this anymore.”
“Ok, take your time. Cry it out. Then I want you to get up and put your clothes on, ok. And next time I’m in town, if you want, we can meet up for a drink. As friends.”
“I would like that.”
“I’m glad you opened up and showed me the real you,” he said.
“See, you said that that’s what you wanted, but my job is to be the fantasy girl. We don’t get to be real people.”
“Well, that’s never what I wanted.”
I got up and went to the bathroom and washed my tearstained face and blew my nose. I went back to the bedroom and got dressed. This would be the last time Calvin would see me naked. He gave me a hug and handed me a casino chip worth $500. “Is that ok?” He asked.
“It’s more than I feel I deserve after this.”
“Don’t even think that way,” he said. “I’m completely satisfied, even though I didn’t get to come. Now you go off and enjoy your life and be happy. And don’t go to the agency again. If you need money, I’ll send you money.”
I knew I could never ask him for that, but I was touched by his kindness. “Thank you,” I said. I left the hotel and took the train home, still feeling raw and shattered inside. In connecting more deeply with my emotions, I learned, I had compromised my ability to work as an agency escort. From now on, I have to work as a sexual priestess with a deep calling. Now, I just have to trust that the money will come.