What is it like to ‘turn the tables’? This is the tale of the day that Percie was fortunate enough, to get a small taste of what it might be like, to be a male Escort. Possibly a once-in-a-lifetime chance to be the provider of intimacy for a female client.
Now before everyone gets their ‘knickers in a twist’, no one is suggesting that this is an authentic account of what being a male Escort is like. For one thing, I don’t have what it takes. It is however the true account of what it feels like for a long-standing client of escorts, to come as close to a ‘role change’ as possible, for a single experience. It didn’t teach me what it is like to be a male Escort, but it did teach me some other very interesting lessons.
So How Did This Experience Come About?
It began on Twitter. Isabella Lawrence @SensualIsabella and I had been connected on Twitter for some time. When I started blogging, I began getting comments, both public and private from Isabella about the articles I was writing. I don’t think she liked my blog very much at the start, and was harsh but helpful on some of my naive early client views. Isabella is a writer as well, and has a lovely style and very interesting blog. We chatted in Twitter Private Messages (PMs) and started sharing part of our stories with each other and a connection built. I think she started to like me a little and I liked her, and our communications grew in frequency.
As a result, we agreed that when I was planning to be in Queensland later in the year, we would catch up for a coffee. We would meet face-to-face for the first time, discuss our mutual interests, our blog writing, and get to know each other a little better. Isabella and I had discovered that our other areas of work overlapped in the same professional field, and we started comparing notes, stories and even some professional support as part of our growing connection. We discussed what form the Queensland meeting would take, and settled on a companionship booking and either lunch or dinner – I would be the client obviously.
Then in mid-year, Isabella announced that she would be coming to Sydney for a visit. The visit was connected to both her escorting work and her other professional activities. Given our recent dialogue around her other professional field, we discussed the possibility of moving our first meeting forward, and grabbing a much earlier chance for a face-to-face meal in Sydney. Somewhere along the line, the conversation started to include joking banter about her booking me as her male companion for her upcoming Sydney business trip. A fun and unusual way of extracting some mentoring for her other work, and combining it with some personal intimacy. Initially it was a joke. In the early discussions, it was light-hearted ribbing and neither of us were taking it seriously, but it was a fun exchange and we both kept it going at different times.
I never believed that anyone would want to book me and pay me for intimacy. Isabella was having some fun, relieving boredom online, and I believe honestly letting me know that she was interested in taking our online conversation into a real-world one. In July, a month out from her Sydney visit, the joke become more serious and then a real conversation about logistics started to happen. How would it work in practice? Would it be OK? Would we both be comfortable with that dynamic? I was ‘sh^t scared to be honest, and I imagine that her own nerves and anxiety at the plan of booking me as her male companion were heightened as well. Suddenly we both agreed it would go ahead as a lunch booking on the 3rd of August, when we would both be in Sydney. It was locked in and it was going to happen.
The Lead-Up To The Booking
We both nearly cancelled the idea on a number of occasions. Both of our insecurities were strong and laid bare. I didn’t know if I could play the part of a Male Escort. I didn’t have the physique, the skills, the youth, the Viagra or any idea, despite my significant experience as a client, on what I should do and how to do it. Isabella seemed to be concerned that she was not my type of Escort (or client), explaining that she was different to most of the Escorts that she had deduced I was booking. We both assured each other that there was no issue, and we had lovely exchanges of messages that reduced our mutual anxiety.
If we were going to do this, I wanted the experience to be as authentic as possible. I knew it was a sham of course, but I still wanted it to be a different and unique experience. It was a sham, because I knew her online, she wasn’t some unknown client with all of the uncertainty, risks and first meeting anonymity. I knew what she looked like, I knew she was a professional escort with all of the skills, comfort and easiness that would bring to the booking. It was a role-reversal pure and simple. I had to try and be the attentive provider, establishing my boundaries and rules, but still trying to live up to the wishes and dreams of my client. She was going to be able to play the client, deciding what she wanted from the booking and letting me know what her desires were and how I could try and satisfy them. At one point she joked that she could play the part of a deliberately difficult client, if I really wanted to see ‘authentic’. That alone was an arousing and intriguing thing. Could I satisfy my client, even if it was more act than reality, especially if they were making it challenging for me?
I went and purchased condoms, lube and other paraphernalia. I had a haircut, purchased some new clothes and an ‘out-call’ bag. I always prepare for my bookings as a client, but I wanted to be the best provider that I could be, and I went to extra effort. It was all part of the fun, and it was also enjoyable to talk about the difference of this experience online. We slowly went from ‘keeping it quiet’ to sharing little bits and pieces of the lead up on Twitter. Isabella told me that if I was a ‘real Escort’, I would need a profile. So I made one up, sent it to her and then posted a version of it on Twitter as well.
The Booking – Lunch
I arrived at my hotel in the morning and my room wasn’t ready. I needed to get in, shower, put my long planed preparation in place and be calm and ready. I had organised an early check-in, but the last guest had held everything up by leaving late. My first real lesson came at that point. I was so much more anxious. I couldn’t message my Escort and say lets meet somewhere else, or the room isn’t ready yet. I was the provider, it needed to be perfect and I didn’t want my first thing to be an excuse about a problem caused by someone else. I begged and argued and finally got into my room, with 20-minutes before I needed to leave for lunch. It was far more stressful than being the client and just updating an Escort on external problems – I didn’t want any external problems, I wanted to be the perfect companion and be ready and on time.
I arrived at our lunch at the agreed time, just, it was a close thing. Isabella was already at Rockpool in Sydney and she got up to greet me. I nearly tripped on a chair and it spoiled my planned introduction. I could feel little glossy sweat beads starting to form on my forehead, from the really strong nerves I was feeling. We sat and I hid my hands under the table to try and remain cool and look as relaxed and debonair as I could manage. We broke the ice quickly. It was an easy conversation, with lots of laughing and it was all wonderful and amazingly natural. I did start to forget that I was meant to be ‘providing’ the companionship. Isabella is a natural and an amazing conversationalist, so this was hardly an authentic experience of having to work hard to get a conversation going, or find common ground, or deal with the menu and fine dining issues of someone less experienced. Anyone dining with Isabella is in for a great time – and we sure had a great time.
My only lesson or difference of experience here, apart from the opening nerves, was a surprising one. It was something I should have realised, but it caught me completely by surprise. I wasn’t paying for the lunch, so all of a sudden intense anxiety hit me about what was the right approach to ordering – did I need to go cheap, mid-range or take Isabella’s offer, the same one that I make all the time, have whatever you want. I went mid-range with the meal and the wine, which at Rockpool is still an extravagance. It wasn’t exactly what I would have ordered if I was paying, especially the wine, but it was close. It made me wonder that when I said ‘have whatever you want’ to companions, how restrained were they really being? How were they making their judgements on what to order? How in future could I really, really convince them to relax and order whatever they really wanted to eat and drink and have a good time. This is a subtle difference between client and provider, but it surprised the hell out of me and made me angry at myself that I hadn’t thought of this difference before.
It was an amazing lunch, really first class and Isabella was magnificent. I hope that I managed to play the part of provider well enough. I did try and shut up about myself and listen more to her, ask her questions, and let her have the lunch conversation that she wanted, but hell, I’m a talker and it is hard to change that in one go. I think I did OK.
The Booking – Dessert
We went back to the Shangri La hotel in a taxi, holding hands, continuing to laugh and taking our time as Isabella was recovering from a recent knee injury. I knew she was in a fair bit of pain, but she was pushing on. I was in a really comfortable place, and I was thinking to myself, I want to show Isabella the best possible time that I can. I know I can’t ‘rock someone’s world’ with professional male Escort skills, but I wanted to be intimate, be of service and make her feel good about inviting me.
Isabella had selected me. She actually wanted to meet me, see me, treat me and be intimate with me. That is amazingly special. It is hard even to write this, because it is making me emotional all over again. I have had girlfriends, been married, and even been propositioned for affairs (on very rare occasions), but I had never before had someone choose me in this way. It is nice when Escorts indicate that they are close to me and are happy to accept re-bookings. It does make me feel special as a client, but I am still paying to see them.
It is something else entirely for someone to actively choose me. I wonder now when I see aggressive complaining about minor client annoyances, happening on platforms like Twitter, whether these more seasoned professional Escorts remember, how few people actually get to be chosen in this way. I found it very special, humbling and fulfilling to have the feeling, even for just a moment of role-reversal, to be chosen to be someone’s paid companion.
Almost anyone can be a client. If they make the right approach, are decent, have the money and behave the right way, they can see amazing Escorts. Not many people can be Escorts. Develop a brand that has personal and intimate appeal, make others want them so badly that they will pay, over and over again, and often fall for them. It is special to be of service and to be wanted. Isabella made me feel so special, it is probably the most desired I have ever felt in my life. Someone wanted to be with me badly enough that they would pay me for the privilege. Even in the pretending of this, it was a special moment where I got lost in the role reversal and saw how much of a gift being desired is.
We spoke more. Isabella told me that there was no pressure, we didn’t have to go through with anything and we could just talk and have fun. We did a little of that of course, but I wanted to get intimate with my client for the day, and try and make her happy with me. I did OK again. I wish I had done better, but nerves and self-imposed pressure played their part. I was turned on and hard, no Viagra required, and was having a great time physically, but I admit it was lucky that Isabella was a professional. Despite our role-reversal, it was clear who was the novice (me) and who was the expert (Isabella).
I don’t know how Escorts manage time, I was terrible. I had always intended to go over time, but I really had no idea, and hadn’t really prepared myself for being ‘on-the-ball’ with alarms, or a discrete clock, or some other way of knowing and managing the time. In the end, I left at close to 6pm, about 90-minutes more than our agreed 4-hour session. I was having a great time, I would have stayed longer, but you know, professional boundaries. Of course Isabella also let me stay until then, so she was cutting me some ‘rare experience’ slack as well. I had a wonderful afternoon, it was an amazing and unique experience, and in many ways it was really pure. Two people that thought they might get along, finding out that their expectations were right. I know Isabella will never book me again – I’m simply just not male Escort material, but I will book her. She is a wonderful Escort.
Isabella gave me a card, a gift (Whisky of course) and my fee, a once-only special ‘newby discount’ rate of $50 for what turned out to be a 6-hour lunch. Far more than I’m worth. That payment is “going straight to the pool-room” – framed and honoured. The one time that Percie was paid for sex, the day gravity turned up-side down, water ran up-hill and time went backwards. The day that Percie got to pretend to be a male Escort. Thank you Isabella for a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
Now whether I had prepaid Isabella for this to be a role-play or not, really shouldn’t matter to anyone but us. Regardless of that, we both knew that this was pretend, a fabricated experience. Isabella is a professional escort, I am a client. That is the world and although this experience probably taught us both things, especially me, it wasn’t real. No one suggested that all of a sudden Percie was an escort, but despite that, Twitter went into a mini melt-down!
A number of our connections had been celebrating the lead-up, the fun and games of the preamble, and then the booking itself. We both left the day thinking that we had shared our wonderful experience with some of our Twitter buddies. The next morning was a different and nasty world. Apparently we had committed some huge offense against humanity. Some was directed at me, some at Isabella, we both got more than our fair share of haters. Apparently somehow we had disrespected the industry, some smack-in-the-face for struggling workers. It was said that my ego was running wild, that all of a sudden I thought of myself as some gun male Escort. Of course none of the haters asked, none of them discussed, and none of them tried to understand the story or even take a look at the lead-up. Since this was something different, they jumped in, with their own agenda, their own issues, and their own viciousness. A little Twitter campaign against Isabella, or me, or both of us ran for a few days.
The level of nastiness drove Isabella to an asthma attack and hospitalization. In my case, I am actually appreciative of the outcomes. It showed me some vicious people to avoid, it showed me some people that I thought would support me that didn’t, it showed me some that supported me privately, and it showed others that despite the significant personal risk to themselves, didn’t hesitate to jump in and support me. To those that sent me private well wishes, thank you so much. To those that put themselves on the line, I really don’t know how to thank you, or if I will ever be able to repay you – but I know who you are, I love you, and I saw first hand the quality of people that you are. Brave, lovely and like me, stupid enough to jump into social media storms, when far more sensible people would steer clear.
I’m not worried for me, but the malice directed to Isabella is unforgivable in my opinion. The people who complain about their own trolls, haters and aggressors that can hypocritically turn on a lovely and sensitive colleague – well I guess you know what I think. Somehow she is more forgiving of you than I am, so if you still think harm was done here, it was my doing and not hers.
I have this strange feeling of joy at the experience and meeting Isabella. Thankfulness at the insights and lessons that it taught me. Also some thankfulness in knowing who to trust and who not to trust. Plus residual surprise at how these crazy Twitter storms grow and progress, and who it is that seems to want to fuel them.
I am no Escort. I am a pretty simple average guy who is a client of sex workers. I write on the experience occasionally. I make mistakes, I have issues and I stuff up. This wasn’t one of those ‘stuff-ups’, it was always respectful of this industry and if anything, it has given me even more respect for the challenges of being an Escort – especially when solidarity and support within the community goes missing.
Update May 2018
For some reason, some people still have a problem with this whole idea and booking. No one actually wants to say it out in the open, or explain their specific issue. Why it is OK for an Escort to see what it is like to be a client, but clients are not allowed to be paid for sex or have anything like that experience. I missed the rule book on this and I still miss it. If one day I wanted to try my hand at being a mature aged Male Escort, surely a long history as a client would be of benefit. Anyway, perhaps I’m just engaging with troll and haters and perhaps most people see this for what it was – a one off experience and a bit of fun. It still gets me a lot of hate mail.
Thank you for reading. I hope that you can respect Isabella and leave her alone or show her your support. In my case, see this tale however you want. A fun role-play, an ego maniac client, a blight on the industry, or just a guy on a journey. It has cured me of thinking I can somehow get everyone to like me – that lesson alone was worth the experience. To Isabella my companion for the day, it was special, you are amazing, and I love you for being part of this with me. Thank you so much!
Xx SP 7 September 2017 (updated 22 May 2018).