How I became a client.

Posted on July 29, 2013


Those opposed to sex work try to demonise service users, and claim we need protecting from them. This piece challenges the idea they are anything but ordinary men and women. by Dexter Richards

I did something recently with another adult behind closed doors in private. It was legal in the city where I reside. It was also completely consensual, we both chose to be there at that place and time for that specific activity. If after further reading you find you have objections to what happened, that is fine. If those objections are based on your morals, I do not care to hear them. The freedom granted to you to have those morals grants me the same freedom to have mine. No one was harmed, no laws broken, live with it. There, that should take care of some people, the rest no one can appease, ever.

To understand my journey to becoming a client you should know a few things about me. I am a man, 41 years old, have been married 3 times, have 2 children (1 from each of the first two marriages). I live every day with a bipolar disorder that has likely played some roll in my divorces. I am a former Mormon, and therefore have once had very narrow views on sex. I have been single for nearly 2 years now and emotionally alone even longer. Also I am happy with life overall. I have my ups and deep, deep downs, but I am happy. Just lonely for intimate physical contact with a woman. I am straight but do not care what other adults do consensually behind closed doors. They have a right to live their lives by their own moral choices. Basic human rights we all have.

My decision to seek out a sex worker did not happen over night. I have come to accept that I may never have a deep long-term relationship due in part to my mental health issues. My last wife left me while I was in the psych-ward of a hospital (voluntarily) because of a deep depression. She was gone from my life and in another man’s bed before I had a chance to object to what was happening. When she got pregnant I heard from friends. She gave birth to my step-daughter before our divorce could be settled. I am now more than wary of truly opening my heart. You see, that was not the first time this sort of thing has happened to me, just the most recent.

So here I am lonely but terrified to just go out and start a relationship only to be thrown away again. I am open now with people about my bipolar. Makes dating hard, even harder when they learn I am on long-term disability. A fixed income is an obstacle that I do not manage well. Part of my disorder is I am very bad with money, and thus I voluntarily have a trustee to help me manage what little I have. Putting myself out to risk pain again is hard but I am doing it. I am just being really open about myself and so far no one can handle it. Stigma.

I receive most of my money from disability but I do get a little from other places. That other money is not income though. I live far enough down the poverty line I get a tax refund (GST Credit) ever 3 months. I also starting selling personal items. I wanted to save my money for a birthday gift to myself that never drew directly on that disability income. My choice what I do with my money I know, and mine was to pay for an escort on my own terms. It took me many months to save the money I would need for my birthday. When I started saving, I did not even know I was saving for that initially.

The whole sex work world was unknown to me though. I knew what I had seen in movies and TV and knew that was inaccurate. So I started reading via the internet. I sought out the pros and cons, listened to both sides of the argument about sex work. At the time I found little to nothing from client perspectives though. So I was left with that negative stigma without a counter argument for real comparison in regards to being a client. The decision would be mine and mine alone in the end anyways. You would think though that more clients would stand up for the services they seek. Maybe they do and I just could not find it. I am not perfect.

My research lead me to the discovery of various types of services and one stood out for me. The girlfriend experience or GFE. I wanted that. I wanted someone to kiss me, to hug me, to hold me, to cuddle me and say nice things to me and about me that had nothing to do with sex. I knew it would be fake, but I took 4 years of drama classes. I too could play a role. My role would be to spend that brief time living in the moment without ‘fear of rejection’. She would accept me for me. I wanted that. So I sought out a provider for just that type of GFE. Again I used the internet and fond what I wanted. We exchanged emails several times, to her bother I think. I contacted her about 6 weeks before the planned date, while she likes 3-4 days notice. She was patient with me.

I did not want to just get my rocks off, I wanted the GFE so I booked a 2 hour appointment. The first 4 weeks of waiting were awful on me. I could not stop thinking about it and it made the current loneliness even worse. For a bit I thought of finding someone whose fees were less. I even called another escort at one point. Her attitude and abruptness with me put the brakes on that idea right quick.
If I was going to do this I wanted a professional companion. Every career has people within it that cross a spectrum of pride in their work, a sense of class or lack of it. Maybe I watched too much Firefly and became infatuated by the character Inara, but I needed more. So I waited. My thoughts about it dropped off and in the last week I became nervous about it instead of obsessed.

It had been 2 years since I had touched another person intimately, 2 years since I had been shown affection. Was I up to it, did I deserve this for myself? How could I be sure she was in sex work of her own free choice, was always on my mind too. Ultimately, for me I felt it was time to get a real hug, to get a real kiss. So I went, and I asked questions whenever I was unsure of something. She was always in control and always compassionate with me. I got the kind of hug I needed that day, and a little sex.