Today I had a couple significant firsts simultaneously in one appointment: I had sex with a woman for the first time, and at the same time I had an MMF three-way for the first time. I am no longer a gold-star gay. It has been the only thought on my mind since the moment this afternoon when I realized my client was female. I never presumed I would ever be with a woman (let alone within the context of escorting… let alone by surprise), and I never thought doing so would cause such a dynamic shift in my sense of self; however, I think this type of experience would be just as profound for someone heterosexual who has suddenly had an irrefutably (and not unpleasant) gay liaison.
Let me explain…
This client contacted me weeks ago. Everything about the exchange was exactly perfect, and the only red flag of any kind was this person claiming to be part of a really hot couple. This person was direct, spoke enthusiastically about the male form and what it can do, and wrote about their significant other in terms that sounded typical to any gay conversation I have ever had with gay men about other gay men, with the focus being on how fit, muscular, and hot they are as a couple. I have found that women have a different way of talking about men, sexuality, desire, bodies, and fantasies, so the POV in all our exchanges sounded like any gay convo… In five years I have had only two women contact me prior to this, and both of them were candid up front about being women. I’m gay. I declined their inquiries, because I feel I would be cheating them in the event that I couldn’t give them an enjoyable experience. I had no reason to presume anything singular was taking place during this particular conversation. The client’s name wasn’t (to me) especially gender specific, so I presumed an “athletic/very attractive” gay couple had just booked an appointment with me.
Today I arrived at the location for our meeting. I had just received a message that a key card was required to access the elevator and to meet in the lobby. I texted to mark my arrival. The response I got said, “Great – I will be in a long grey dress.”
Why would a man who was concerned about discretion want to meet me in the lobby of a busy conference hotel while wearing a long grey dress?
Then it dawned on me: I never assumed, guessed, conceived, or considered that the person who had contacted me was anything other than an athletic gay man. I confess I instantly fell into a throat clinching panic attack. And what was worse, nearly every woman in the lobby was wearing a long grey dress. Everywhere I turned there were women walking toward me wearing long grey dresses. I thought I was going to be ill from stress. I had never done anything with a woman before! My ad doesn’t specify that I’m gay, but I always thought everyone just knew… LOOK AT ME FOR GOD’S SAKE! I wouldn’t even know what to do or how to do it. I wouldn’t have a clue about gauging her degree of satisfaction with my bungled attempts, and I wasn’t confident I could even function…
But I have never, not once ever, turned a client away upon meeting them for the first time in person. And I wasn’t going to start today. “This is absurd,” I thought to myself. Billions of men have sex with women every day throughout all of forever… But I’m gay! “And millions of gay men have had sex with women, too.” Well, that ended that convo inside my head. And let me say this: I have never been afraid of or disgusted by women’s bodies the way other gays seem to be. You can even find entries on this blog over the years where I say exactly that. I was raised by women, came of age in dance classes with girls, and went to college and graduate school in nearly 100% female departments. I know how to lift women. I know how to talk to women. I know how to carry women. I know how to relate to women. I know how to love and adore women. I know… nothing about the practical application of female sexuality. I can’t even blog about it without it sounding like a graduate course in gender studies.
And then, out of nowhere, there she was. And she was right: She was fit and beautiful. I know what a gorgeous woman looks like. I’d just never… well… you know. We went up to her room, and I said nothing beyond the normal pleasantries. I was trying to formulate my thoughts. When we were inside I said candidly, “I have never been with a woman before. I know nothing about it. You will have to talk to me and tell me if I don’t do it right. I mistook your name for belonging to a man, so I had no idea until just now when you mentioned wearing a dress. I totally understand if you want me to leave.” I think I sounded like a terrified teenager. Perhaps that was endearing to her, because she told me to stay. Then her man walked in to say hello… Oh… Yes, the magic will happen. One way or another, everything was going to be fine. LOL
I won’t burden you with the details, because it isn’t my place to disrespect anyone’s need for discretion; however, let me say that she was telling the complete truth: They are an absolutely stunning couple. Fitness model material, the both of them. They were pristine in their hygiene and cordial in their manners. I enjoyed my time with them, because I learned a great deal about myself during our time together. This career isn’t always about me showing others to themselves, it is also an opportunity for me to evolve and grow too. Does that mean I’m bisexual or straight now? No, of course not. But it completely solidifies my long held opinion: Gay men who are dramatically and vulgarly offended by women’s bodies are totally out of line. It’s hypocritical for gay men to demand respect and recognition for their own bodies and sexualities when so many gay men express panic-stricken revulsion toward half the people on the planet.
My female client was stunning. I mean, really: She is a gorgeous creature. Her body was trim, strong, clean, proportionate, healthy and beautiful. This idea other gay men fling about, that her female parts are disgusting in and of themselves, offends me. Her parts looked like an exotic tropical flower. I know her body (and all its parts) was exquisite. And although I am grateful and happy that hers was the first female body I have known, it also reaffirms that I am gay. For all her beauty, charm, kindness, skill, and form, I was electrified by the presence of her man. I would enjoy seeing her and her partner as often as they would like, and I would still be gay after every encounter.
Now a word about her man… Jesus! (I think she must be the luckiest chic on the planet. LOL I will say no more.)
At any rate, my personal escorting business is based heavily on repeat clients. I would be absolutely thrilled for this couple to become regulars. They are respectful, reliable, clean, courteous, successful people. If nothing else, I hope this blog entry will remind people of the simple fact that ALL sorts of people hire sex workers for ALL sorts of reasons. This gorgeous couple had been turned down by the attractive straight couples they knew (many of whom are too sexually conventional to go along with their playtime fantasies), and they had been soundly rejected by all their gay friends too (because of her gender). So, they found me. And now my personal boundaries have been expanded a bit, and I am coming to terms with the fact that I am a Sterling Silver Gay (instead of a Gold Star Gay). And I’m not sorry about that at all.
This is what Mom had to say: “Calm down, it’s just a different hole. Pretend it was a warm watermelon if it makes you feel better and take a shower. She didn’t propose did she? It was some kind of safe way for her to have another man with her hubby not worried you would take her away from him. <3” This has been a reading from the Gospel According to Mom. You may all take a moment to reflect quietly in your hearts. LOL
I do have some questions though: Why didn’t someone warn me that a clitoris could stretch so much? I was terrified I would pull it off or something. It was like a gummy worm, and I was scared I was going to tear it or break it somehow. Also, how can a man know when he’s doing it right (other than he gets paid his fee at the end)? I mean… with men it’s way more obvious… I have no idea if I actually did anything to her liking. I asked if she was happy, and she said very; however, I am accustomed to… “proof.” Also, how the hell does something the size of a watermelon come out of a spot no bigger than a lemon? I may pass out at the thought… I need a glass of water.