brave new world…

By amy ~ January 14th, 2010 @ 6:39 pm

pr jFor a change, and because regaling readers with my tales of food, weight and weather woes is boring even me, I have decided this time to try and post a missive which may turn out to serve some practical purpose. Lately, I seem to be receiving a huge amount of enquiries from gentlemen completely new to my little world, and I am beginning to think that some form of gentle guidance may be in order in addition to the information on the website (which I am flattered to be told many are finding useful) if only to aid, calm and reassure those who may be in any doubt about what they are proposing to embark upon.

It is increasingly apparent to me that we ladies (and the more seasoned gentlemen we meet) can easily forget how terrifying a prospect the first dip of the toe into the punting pool can be for newcomers; our world can seem a dark, confusing and shadowy one and whilst I do not propose to speak for others, I can hopefully at least allay some fears about, well – meeting ME. There are basic ‘first-timer’ guides on many sites and forums, but not all ladies are the same and neither are all gents, therefore the only premise I am starting with is the fact that you have happened on my blog, probably seen my website and may be interested/have decided to/have already arranged to (yay!) spend a little time in my company.

Becoming somebody who pays somebody else for sex is not much of a jump in neutral, practical terms – most men have forked out ‘fees’ ranging from diamonds and houses to dinner, tickets or at the very least a couple of Bacardi Breezers with the tacit agreement that part of what they will receive in return will include some rumpy pumpy (whether this actually materialises or not, which is yet another facet of the argument). The difference has always been that this is more likely to take place in civvy-land with a lady you have met before, probably conversed with for more than a few minutes and who may at least have made some half-arsed attempt to turn you down before getting on with the matter in hand. The general worry about substituting all the tedious preparatory stuff with a couple of emails, a phone call and a wad of cash would seem to be that in return, a sense of tawdry sleaziness would prevail, although I will not dwell on this as anyone who has seen my site ought to have realised that this is not the case. One way would be to try to think of the arrangement as Pay As You Go rather than contract.

One important but oft-overlooked fact is that on the surface at least, I am really pretty ordinary – fairly bright but not educated, pleasant looking but not stunning (and thus not in the slightest bit intimidating),  gentle and patient without being passive, happy and friendly without being insufferable. I also (contrary to what many expect) speak with a strong Northern accent, which gets defiantly and resolutely broader the further South I travel, and swear like a navvy in real life. I shave some bits and not others, worry about the bills, watch football, read bad fiction and like going to the pictures and I don’t phone my parents as often as I should. Some days if I don’t have bookings, I don’t shower at all and stay in my pyjamas all day long playing Guitar Hero and eating banana custard.

I am not a porn star and won’t screech, moan, talk contrived and scripted ‘dirty’ in a put-on voice or pull funny faces, but I do kiss nicely and cuddle properly, and will happily show you how to make me come if you like. My apartment and the places where I stay when I’m on my travels are clean, warm, comfortable and safe, and no-one else will be there except us. This does not mean that somebody else is not nearby, or at the very least on the end of a telephone expecting to hear from me but this is in the interests of common sense and personal safety, and not because I have any burning ambition to take up blackmail as a hobby. My enthusiasm is as genuine as that of anyone fortunate enough to be successful at a job they enjoy, and because I am being paid does not mean that I do not like, respect and care about my visitors and their feelings – on the contrary, I rarely agree to meet with a caller I do not feel comfortable with and not only (rightly or wrongly) have I turned down further bookings from clients where this has been the case, I have actually cancelled on the day when my spider-senses have warned me that an encounter is unlikely to go well. Professional? Not particularly, no. Normal, natural human reaction? Yes. And so are all of my others.

The intent behind all this really is as a nerve-calmer for the new and intrepid who may be letting their imaginations run away with them – to those for whom reading through reviews written by others can be as intimidating as it is enticing, for those who want to pick up the phone but panic as soon as they do, and all those who are thinking of doing so; whether or not it helps remains to be seen. I cannot post about how a typical meeting goes, say, because I don’t have a script and every one is different. Door opens, hello, fill in details from there. I won’t ask about your personal life, where you work or your reasons for contacting me, although if you want to tell me you can and a lot of people do. I may babble a bit about the weather, the parking and ask you if you have had much of a journey, partly because I am British, and partly because I am also a bit shy with new people and I sometimes get nervous too.

I am uncomfortably aware that all of this is not a little self-indulgent, but this is not my intention and there are certainly visitors who have no interest in engaging with another person at all. But they won’t care, or even know what we’re doing here, because they will not have read any further than the prices and the phone number, and so it doesn’t matter. And more importantly, they are no less welcome then anyone else, particularly if I’m feeling too lazy to discuss the FA Cup results, the Large Hadron Collider or the current state of play regarding the previously unheard of Snow In Winter crisis. Sometimes, after all, you DO just want a McDonalds, and quite right too (and if you’re going there afterwards, I might even come with).

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