I ho I ho it's off to work I go .... the arrest

I took to escorting like a duck to water, from vomiting with nerves all over my first client, I found myself enjoying my new side line, although it could be hard on me sometimes and Karen asked if I'd consider giving up my day job which I responded with a NO WAY. Working as an escort full time would mean crossing that imaginary line I had drawn in my mind. I'd really be a prostitute then.

New Orleans was very different from any other place I had lived and before which had included countries on 3 different continents. People were so friendly and I was the sort of person that made friends easily and soon I got to know a lot of people. It was a great place for escort work with all the conventions coming into town and because I was Karen's friend I was also getting a lot of the "choice" appointments, besides, I was a diamond in the rough as many of her other ladies were on drugs or drank so were unreliable.

One day after a particularly hard night (I had 2 two hour appointments ) I decided to call in sick the next morning into my day job. I was making breakfast for myself when Karen called to ask if I wanted to take a day time appointment, I told her not really, preferring to just veg in front of the TV for the afternoon. She must have really needed the money or something and somehow talked me into it. It was mid summer in New Orleans, very hot and muggy and I hated having to leave the comfort of an air conditioned house. She called me back an hour later saying she had checked him out and he'd be expecting me. An hour later I was stepping out of a cab in front of the historic Hotel Monteleone in the French Quarters. A gentleman waiting outside greeted me and I made my way to the elevator to the 4th floor and knocked on the clients door. Over glasses of water we made small talk, me asking about where he came from, which was some town in Ohio and about the convention. He teased me about my accent and said "I bet you are really from Georgia".

I called Karen to say all was good, after checking his ID and collecting the fee. We both got undressed and sat on the edge of the bed while he began stroking my back asking what we could and couldn't do, which made me feel uneasy as I had been warned it was one of the avenues vice used before arresting you, feeling uneasy I began to pull away but he pulled me closer and I remember thinking well if he's naked and touching me this way, it must be OK, so I began to stroke his dick, which at this point was quite hard. Still feeling slightly uneasy I didn't know what to do next but he seemed to be leading the way and gently pushing my head downwards wanting me to go between his thighs. When I pulled back he must have known it was a lost cause and that's when he said he had to make a quick phone call. I can't remember what he said, but a second later he reached under the mattress, pulled out his badge and told me I was under arrest for prostitution.

My head was swirling and I stood up to put my clothes on when he yelled at me to not move. Just then he opened the door for two other officers, one I recognized as the guy at the door down stairs who smiled and said hello while walking into the hotel. The stinking bastard wouldn't let me dress until the other cops where in the room. It was the first time I had ever been arrested, I'd never even had a speeding ticket at that point, but this was the ultimate humiliation and I burst into tears. Even today I don't remember being taken down stairs or if I had to walk through the lobby handcuffed. I just remember the short ride to central lock up and the nightmare of being booked and strip searched.

My first ever client

After my first meeting with Karen at the bar in the French Quarters, I didn't have to give it much thought. She'd given me a good run down of what was expected of me and how to deal with it, the prospect of making all that money had me swayed and in a way I couldn't wait to start. We became friends and I met new friends through her, had a ball discovering the unique city of New Orleans and other parts of Louisiana. In the mean time I still kept my job with the recruitment agency. To me working as an escort part time didn't make me a prostitute, it was just a moonlighting gig that I took my clothes off for. Right?

She called me that day at work to let me know she had a client for me to see later that evening and would confirm by the time I got home. The rest of the day was fuzzy and I was anxious now that it came down to actually being with a client. It almost felt like a first date, but not quite, as one doesn't feel afraid before a first date. She confirmed he was at the Hilton by the River walk and was in from Kansas City for a convention and he wanted me there at 8pm. By this time I had found a lovely little house in the Garden district against well intentioned advice from my boss (day job) and his wife. They thought it was a little too close to the projects, but I liked the unique interior of the house, which I rented from an attorney. Besides my neighbours were nice people.

I got dressed in a nice black dress I bought from Ann Taylor a few days before. She had arranged for someone to drive me there and he arrived to take me on the short ride down town. He walked in with me and headed for the bar while I took the elevator up. I felt very cold, clammy, was shaking with nerves when I knocked at his hotel door. The man who opened it was maybe in his 40's, non-discript, not very tall with a mop of red hair. The red hair is what I remember most for some reason whenever I recall the "event".

We exchanged pleasantries and he offered me a seat on the side of the bed, but my ass didn't quite make it that far and I sort of stumbled when I tried to sit. We talked of what he did for a while and he asked me about myself and where I came from since I didn't sound like an American. I didn't have to ask for the money as he handed it to me and I put it in my purse without counting it as Karen had told me to do. I then called her to let her know all was well. He offered me something to drink which I declined and then moved closer to me and touched my breast at which time I knew it was time to get the show started. Standing up he removed his shirt and then pants awkwardly, while I started unzipping my dress. He was completely naked and I still had bra, panties, thigh highs and shoes. Pulling me towards him he gently pushed me to the bed and tried to kiss me, while leading my hands towards his dick encouraging me to stroke it, which I did but didn't anticipate what came next. I vomited.

I guess my nerves must have got the best of me and confessed it was my first time as an escort and awkwardly ran to the bathroom to clean myself up, leaving the poor fella to not only clean himself of my vomit, but also to strip the bed and I guess at some point call house keeping for clean sheets. Things were too awkward and there wasn't any point in staying so we said our good byes and I walked to the bar to meet my driver and almost collapsed in a seat next to him. I had a sip of his drink and then found a pay phone to call Karen who told me every thing would be OK. She asked if I wanted to come to her home, but I declined just wanting to go home shower and cover myself with a soft comforter.

Counting the money in the car I discovered he'd given me $170, the fee was $150 of which Karen got $60 and I kept $90 (this was New Orleans in the mid 1980's). I guess I didn't do too bad taking home $110. I took a shower, climbed into bed and tossed and turned for an eternity before falling asleep. I had to be at the office at 8.30 am.

Ooops looks like I lost a client

Although the business I started after leaving the escort world is a million miles far removed, it reminds me of it in some ways. Some days can be quite erratic, it's also quite personal and I am required to be and insured and free of a police record, although nobody ever seems to ask me for evidence, I do however furnish new clients with references from current and past clients, which includes their contact details. There again I don't have a record here and what happened in the US doesn't count.

I received an email from a prospective client in one of the wealthiest neighborhoods here who said she travelled very frequently and required our services. And after checking out her companies website(something I do when I am emailed from their work addresses) . I realized she was a high flying lawyer for said company. We had tentatively arranged to meet Saturday a week ago, but I called to cancel as something pressing came up and to re-arrange, I couldn't for the life of me remember her name and aard and emmmmed until I found it in my diary, by then she told me she was talking on the other line but she'd call me back. That was a week ago. I guess me mot remembering hr name, my mum yelling something at me and the dogs barking, I didn't come across as very professional or reliable. I just happened to be running errands for my mother that day and I should have gone into a quite room.

Oh well, you can't win them all.

Don't get me wrong, I had a helluva time

Reading back what I wrote last night and into the wee hours, came across as quite wretched and I don't want to come across as wretched or seek pity from anyone. No one put a gun to my head to do what I did, I knew the consequences, I suffered the consequences by being arrested and still kept going because I was totally seduced by the life style and even the danger. I also wasn't legally in the USA, so it was something I could do and live under the radar.

I'm an ordinary looking gal not someone you'd describe as drop dead gorgeous. An accurate description would be attractive, busty, very charming and cultured. I think a lot of the time it was my charm and worldliness that got me through. I was educated privately for a while and lived all across the globe. My father did quite well for himself and growing up we lived quite a privileged life. As you can imagine escorting wasn't what he or my mother had in mind for me as a career, but I had always been quite a wilful child, questioning everything. For a while I considered a career in the diplomatic corp, then social work and public relations, ironic that I ended up being a paid companion?

I had moved to the US after spending a whole summer travelling through parts of Europe and then on to the US and Caribbean islands. I had family on my mothers side in the US so I got to see several states, however it was while trying to figure what to do with my life , while I soaked up the sun and fun in the Bahamas, that I got talked into visiting Los Angeles, by a couple that I became friends with. I liked LA enough to stay and was even able to land a job working in the offices of a B movie production company. This was before the INS tightened up on immigration and way before 9/11 so it was relatively easy to get around formalities. The job was temporary and I got fired after a few weeks for putting one of the owners of the company in his place. I did several temping assignments through out LA and even had a 4 month stint with UPS in Human Resources. Imagine that, not even a green card and I worked in HR.

How I got started in the world of escorting

A year after arriving in LA I found myself taking a trip to New Orleans. A place I'd heard so much about and couldn't wait to see. The only person I knew was a guy I met on the flight from Florida to LA on my original move. We'd kept in touch and he was only to happy to have me as his guest. Tommy was an R & B music producer of sorts who travelled quite a lot so it was nice having the house to myself as I was constantly trying to fend off his advances. After I walked into the living room to find him naked, watching a porno and fondling himself, gesturing me to join him, I knew it was time to go and I started looking for a place of my own. Oh I forgot to mention that I fell in love with New Orleans from the moment I got there. So much so that I decided to stay a while and was offered a job on my second week.

I worked as a recruitment consultant in the Central Business District. It was a nice enough job, but I got paid on commission and at this point was rapidly running out of funds, so I decided to give escorting a whirl. The first outfit I contacted was ran by a guy who wanted "to try me out" first. I ran. It began to sound like not a very good idea until I ran into Karen in a bar in the French Quarters one evening after work, while downing a few with some of the people from work. We got talking and next thing I knew I was considering working for her escort service. Little did I know that my life was about to change forever.

I wondered what my life would be like, how much different my life would have turned out had I not been at that bar or had I not met Karen.

Maybe I'll get round to seeing a shrink at some point....

But for the mean time I think I'll just write. I only just stumbled on a few escort blogs and thought I'd give it ago too. Maybe along the way I'll learn more about myself, maybe I'll figure it out. I've always wondered how other former prostitutes do it. Do they all over come their past? Doe's anyone walk away unhurt? Do they hate themselves? Do they find everlasting love? Can they fall in love and trust him? Are they happy?

I think if I hadn't remained so long in the business I wouldn't be the way I am today, lonely, unhappy, some times unfulfilled, distrustful of people and still searching.

I got into the escort business when I was in my mid-twenties in 1987 and you know what? I wasn't surprised. I had read enough books by Jackie Collins, Sydney Sheldon and Harold Robins to get me thinking, but it wasn't until I read "The Mayflower Madam" did I decide THAT'S WHAT I WANTED TO DO.

I'm some what of a misfit. I have never taken to authority of any kind and hate being told what to do, in many ways I can't help pointing out that the Emperor is naked and therein lies the reason I get into trouble. Being an escort made me realize what a twisted world we live in and how hypocritical our law makers are. After you've shoved enough dildos up enough judges asses, lead them around on a dog leash, not to mention dressing them up in women's clothes, snorted coke, with prosecutors, lawyers and cops, you begin to question the logic of infallible humans like them having the power to put make and impose laws that put you away in prison.