steak3

I was recently challenged by a statement:
“Sex is sex”. “An escort is an escort”.
Whether you pay thirty dollars at a cheap motel or pay hundreds at a four star suite, a blow job is just that; a blow job!”

What’s the difference between escort and a courtesan? You’re still a whore.
The short answer:
Escorting is less taxing on the soul.

Let me enlighten you.

If you were hungry and wanted a steak, here are your choices:
Choice One: You could go to a fast food drive thru and order a burger… It’s not steak, but it is beef. You can eat that in your car, let the grease drip on the wrapper that houses that burger, drink from your foam cup and fill your belly. Not a thing wrong with it, once in a while. A sloppy quickie!!

Choice Two: You could go to a sit down restaurant like Denny’s and order that steak you’re craving. The waitress is a bit rude but eventually does deliver your food to you. It arrives on a melamine plastic plate, your drink also in a plastic cup. The beef is not the best quality, on the tough side, over cooked a little, but not burnt and seasoned only with a lot of salt. It’s a steak. If you’re not a fussy steak eater, you might enjoy your meal. Not the most repulsive choice and fits many people very well.

Choice Three: You go to a fine steak house where you order a steak. A well-aged, Prime Grade A slab of beef, flawlessly seasoned, flame-grilled to perfection, and superior melt-in-your-mouth tender. This is served on a real plate accompanied by a fine glass of red wine, a table with lovely table linens, a spring flower arrangement, the most impeccably attentive wait staff and first-class live music. This experience becomes not just about the steak but the entire meal experience.

What goes on in a woman’s mind that they would become a sex worker? I can only say how I got there.
I started out slow as a courtesan not an escort. One role landed in my lap, the other role I jumped into.

Courtesan
I like to describe it as being similar to a pampered house cat.

You primp and make sure you look your best at all times. You’re at the beck and call of someone else and always on duty. You don’t live with them but they run every aspect of your life. You’re a life size Barbie doll, put on a shelf until they want to play, and checked from top to bottom often, just like they would a race horse, to making sure their investment is still perfect. A courtesan is an asset and the owner wants the interest from that investment. You study to be the most cultured and are constantly educating yourself on a multitude of subjects.

You have to be more than just eye candy. Many times you become a closer on deals you can never really understand. You become a player in a curious chess game. You have to remember that you can always get beat by another smarter, more cultured, prettier face and time is never on your side.

I was working at the airlines at JFK airport when I first entered the lifestyle. I was a passenger relations rep, meeting all the high-end revenue passengers that would pass through customs and immigration. Many of them were service and military higher ups, as well as celebrities and powerful businessmen that flew often. My job was to help them along to catch their next flight, keeping them happy while they were waiting. This usually involved taking them to the ambassador lounge, a special locked lounge where they would kill time between flights that has a bar and TVs and room to stretch out and relax, get them settled and run off to get my next client. When they needed to be moved from the lounge to the gate, I was right there to assist.

That’s where I met Mr. V. He was an older, wealthy businessman – a regular. He was handsome with salt & pepper hair, smooth and charming. His eyes seemed to hold many secrets and contained a mystery that I wanted to know about. He was too old for me and I knew it. I thought it was a fling, but it quickly turned into me becoming his expensive racehorse.

In the beginning, it was exciting, almost flattering. I was chosen. I felt honored. Being so young, I truly didn’t grasp what I had stepped into. My concept of the job description was that I was supposed to make him look good at functions and parties and to be beautiful.

The reality: This was far from the real definition.

Escort Escorting was much simpler. You are paid to have sex and entertain for a set amount of time.

I prided myself on being able to deliver the “Girlfriend Experience”. I would be the perfect fantasy girlfriend, saying how wonderful they were, laughing at every joke, touching them ever so lightly on the arm, and kissing them deeply and almost lovingly. I was never in a bad mood, never brought drama, baggage or guilt trips.

In real life, that doesn’t exist. Women all come with baggage. They are full of emotions, wants, desires and have a multitude of needs. Men just prefer to act as if they don’t. They would rather pay to not have those real emotions brought to the table.

For the record, all women have a little escort in them and it will pop up at some point in their life. It may not be not to the extreme but it will surface to some extent. Most just choose to deny it.

-The blind date you go one and order the lobster because you’re entitled ….that’s the escort.

-The man you date that’s well off. You could take him or leave him, but his money makes your life easier…. that is the escort.

-The boyfriend you act perfectly for because he may reward you with that shiny ring…. There she is…. the escort.

The Escort = You do or you act and you get rewarded!

Not so “Disturbing” when looked at from that angle.
Things are not always so black and white. You can color your world however you like but the fact is that most of it is just a gray area of blur.

We all have different wants, likes, and needs. It just depends on your pallet. Some people just want the fast food burger while others really want the sit-down fancy meal. Neither one is wrong. Both fill you, just in very different ways.

Each Fuck serves its own purpose and yes sometimes a fuck is just that and sometimes it so much more, sometimes it becomes the whole experience.

Rebecca
* Still a Whore to the core, not considering myself fast food. I prefer Sushi over steak.