I love my job, I really do. The anticipation of slipping into fine lingerie, putting my perfectly pedicured feet into a pair of Louboutins, and gliding like a bird of paradise through a hotel lobby in anticipation of meeting my lover for an hour or two (knowing the champagne’s chilling on ice next to a tidy white cash filled envelope) makes it all worth it.

I love the moment when I knock on the door and that moment as the door opens, and standing there with a big smile is - a woman? 

I love women. Their company, intelligence and their emotional IQ. I love their soft skin and their sweet perfume. But the experience is very different than with a man. A man is more simple to please: naked flesh and of course lots of stroking (also to the ego). But a woman? Not even close.

My (very few) female clients come from money and are career women. They’re generally more maturely aged than me and either married or divorced. One even brought her husband along (but seeing couples is another story). They’re either bored at home and want to do something naughty that’s been on their bucket list for years, or they like women, like fucking women, but haven’t got the time nor inclination to go searching for it.

One of my clients, Helen* a 42 year-old business owner told me when her husband goes away, she treats herself to a take-out. An Escort take out. “It’s my indulgence to myself,” she told me once. She’s not a lesbian, she just likes to touch and feel a woman’s touch once in a while. (Her husband has no idea).

We always start our date with a few glasses of champagne and talking about everyday things – men, shopping, the latest beauty treatment. With most male bookings, I take control. The men are usually shaking in their boots. But with Helen, it’s different. The times I’ve seen her, she takes my hand and leads me to her bedroom. There’s always lots of kissing, lots of foreplay and lots of oral.

It’s more tricky with a woman – are they faking? Did she really enjoy that? How do I know what I’m doing is working? A penis goes hard, a vagina however…? Her moans seemed real, her wetness was real, but I understand how men feel during sex with a woman. The anxious thought; ‘Did you really enjoy that?’ comes to mind. Women are a little more difficult to figure out. Here are a couple of things I can do with a man, that I can’t do with a female client…

Stroke the ego -
Men are more simple to make happy. They like being complimented on their amazing qualities and a fun connection.
Women, are no bullshit. She knows she has dimples and pimples and her hair is all extensions. She’ll admire my boobs, sure, but it is deeper than that. And that’s the scary part. You have to be real. Fluttering your eyelashes won’t work: she knows they’re fake.
Make small talk

Here’s something you may not know. A lot of male clients love a good chat. They may not realize it when they book me, or the moment i walk into the room, but they are starved of good conversation – I once sat through three hours (and a few cocktails) of a five-hour booking and listened to my client’s sad story of his broken marriage and troubled son.

Female clients, on the other hand, want to fuck. They talk to their friends, partners and their therapists. They’re all talked out. If they book me, then they want to have sex predominately. It’s as simple as that. In saying that, the emotional connection is deeper with a woman, and the ones I’ve seen do enjoy a bit of dirty talk, often it is something they’d never imagined would happen.

Women usually seek much more foreplay, stroking, touching and massage. There are no limits to the amount of times she can orgasm, whereas men are pretty limited (sorry guys). I quite often leave a female client wishing I could have stayed longer, that we got on so well, that she was such a nice person and weren’t her shoes nice, and maybe, just maybe, we could meet for coffee one day….