Devon Hunter

Okay, a little background about what’s going on lately. I’ve been pretty open about being an escort with just about everyone. I tend to treat it the way Madonna did when pictures of her came out in Penthouse way back in 1985. Her response was something on the order of, “Yeah. And?” It kinda killed that particular controversy.

I didn’t become an escort to shock people. In fact that has nothing to do with it at all. I embraced it knowing it would be controversial, but I didn’t make the choice for controversy’s sake. And it’s a good thing, too: No one I’ve met thus far has been particularly shocked. Not that I’m disappointed, but it’s rather surprising. Family, potential partners, friends, and readers all have the same response: “Okay, just be careful. I’m not gonna judge you.”

This is fabulous on the one hand, but it raises a question on the other: Have we, on some level at least, moved into the post-controversy era? Have so many people been exposed as adult video models and exotic dancers on American Idol that no one cares anymore? Did reality TV finally drive the first nail into the coffin of prudence/prurience? I certainly hope so.

As far as family goes: Mom knows. So does Gramma. My sister knows. I told Dad, and he took it as a compliment to himself that his son is a “stud” (even though I’m adopted, and it’s not his genes at work per se). I’ve not told Dad’s mother, because although she is probably a teensy bit more liberal than she pretends, she does still send me conservative political emails about what Rush Limbaugh “thinks,” so I just don’t wanna go there right now. I’ve not told my uncles, but I’m not close enough to most of them for it to matter, and Uncle Greg would probably just laugh and give me his rendition of the Celtic Warriors’ greeting (which is using the heel of the palm to rub quick circles in the center of the friend’s chest while grunting “AAAAAARGH!”).

My friends haven’t judged me negatively at all. Zero. Zilch. Nada. Not a single one is anything but supportive.

In terms of personal relationships with other men: I didn’t escort until after breaking it off with Steve last summer, so there was no one to tell until Matt back in December. He didn’t care about that. He has other issues, but my escorting isn’t one of them. “J” (someone I’ve talked to on and off for nearly four years, but never dated) decided to finally pursue me right in the middle of this Matt situation, and he isn’t offended (in fact, he asked if I thought he could use escorting to pay off his house). “A” is another guy who has shown interest, both in me and in escorting. Shawn, a model in D.C., is definitely not put off by it. In short, while I’m trying to heal from Matt there are people pursuing me who aren’t allowing my being a courtesan to dissuade them in the least. How fucking irritating! OMG!

To put all this into context, a reader in Canada named Doug shows my blog to his mother. Doug is about Mom’s age, if not a few years older. His mother is thus older than Gramma. She said to Doug that I am “possessed of the refined sensibilities that demand a well-appointed house.” Aside from being utterly charming in an Old World Colonial manner, her comment shows that even Canadians of a certain age don’t care about all this (but they have a vastly different sexual culture north of the U.S. border). She went on to say that I “should marry a doctor.” Doug is going to ask her advice for me on finding a well-appointed man. She is concerned about my safety in escorting, to which I replied, “I meet worse men dating than I ever have escorting.” Doug’s father has said, “When men say they love you, remember that they also love Ketchup.” Mhm. Perhaps I should stop threatening to move to Canada and just do it?

So, all in all, I’ve been expecting a big hullabaloo, but society at large has given me the Madonna treatment: Yeah. And?

I think I’m completed elated by this.

PS

Don’t forget to place your vote for Best Escort Blog for the 2010 Hookies by visiting my ad on Rentboy! The check boxes are at the bottom of the righthand sidebar.

Not all that long ago I was asked what I wanted in my connections with people. Well, J.C., I have an answer for you, and before I even write this (and I’m not so worried about whether or not I keep it to 500 words today) I sense it will end up in my Favorites list. This is one of those diamonds I sometimes birth after some painful struggle and terrifying introspection.

First, some background information. When I lived in Los Angeles from 1998 - 2002, I lived within a profoundly dysfunctional relationship with a man named Randy. Randy is wonderful in that he is financially generous and politically honest; however, he is one of the single most emotionally selfish, socially inept, intellectually insensitive, and grossly manipulative people I have ever met. His qualities cannot, for me, EVER counterbalance his negative attributes. And I have been tormented by his presence in my life for OVER TEN FUCKING YEARS… He drives me absolutely ape shit…

And last night he called me at 4:00 am to bitch me out.

I left my phone on, because Matt (whose story unfolds in “Honesty: It fucking sucks,” part 1, part 2, and part 3) reappeared 24 hours after I sent him a “good bye” text. He texted to let me know his phone had been dead for two days (which, for a variety of reasons I don’t care to explain here, I know to be a lie), and that he didn’t mean to come across as “shady.” He then immediately disappeared back into the mysterious labyrinth of his restaurant where time and communication skills are forever lost…

At any rate, I left my phone on in case Matt finally decided to call after all. He did not. But, lo and behold, rather than the person I most wanted a call from, I got a call from the person I least wanted a call from. I remember the phone ringing at 4:00 am, and I rolled over and I actually cursed outloud in indignation. I let it go to voicemail. I checked that voicemail a few hours later, unable to sleep.

And the diamond was forged from within me.

Randy WENT OFF on me. “I’m so disappointed in you as a person! You didn’t call for Thanksgiving or Christmas. You never answer when I call. You always let me go to voicemail, and you never call me back. How busy can you fucking be? This is a bunch of bullshit! I’m getting the message that you don’t want to talk to me or something, and I’m not going to call you anymore.”

Here is what I was yelling in response to him: “I don’t care if you’re disappointed, asshole! I didn’t even THINK to call you, and why would I?? Of course I don’t answer: You’re an asshole! And I don’t call back, because I don’t fucking want to! Too busy to talk TO YOU! What’s bullshit is that it’s taken you 10 years to figure all this out. Don’t do me any favors! GOD!” And I deleted his voicemail, feeling triumphant that I was FINALLY, after more than a decade, not going to allow him to guilt me into talking to him. I am finally rid of this person!

GOD!

And then… well… the moment his voicemail blinked out of existence, I realized something:

It is distinctly possible that I am Randy/Matt. Actually, I’m far worse than Randy/Matt. I have been sick with fretting over not hearing from Matt with any consistency for +10 days, but I have been doing this to Randy for +10 years. Why? Because I can’t bear the thought of the confrontation. I am heaped with guilt at the thought of telling Randy to leave me alone, and to keep his manipulative insanity to himself.

And here I am, sitting by with the audacity to cry over Matt? Oh, my fucking GOD! I don’t know that it’s true, but what if it is?? What if the only reason Matt responds to me (at all) is because he feels, from time to time, enough guilt or exasperation to text or call me just to shut me up, or to give me a dose of attention and leave me to my misery for a while? That’s the attitude I’ve taken with Randy for years and years: “Okay, I will talk to Randy for an hour today, since I’ve ignored him for months, and that’s good enough to get me through for a few more months.”

I’m a horrible person. And I’m a hypocrite. I don’t believe that Karma is a punishment: It is a lesson. And just when I was beginning to wallow in self-pity about how horrible Matt is treating me… the phone rings. That message from Randy was a message from the Universe. I have been accusing Matt of being too chicken shit to just tell me that he doesn’t want to talk to me, but I’m a thousand times more guilty of the same exact cowardice.

Now, the question is this: Do I break this cycle of cowardice, call Randy back, and FINALLY say “I got your message, and I prefer that you not contact me anymore?” Or do I break the cycle of guilt, avoiding the horrible argument Randy will try to start, in an attempt to not respond to yet another ploy?

Randy CONSCIOUSLY uses guilt to coerce people to talk to him. That is the only distinction between how he has treated me over the years, and how I have interacted with Matt over the weeks. Was I, in a more subtle manner, trying to guilt Matt into calling me or seeing me???

I don’t know.

But to answer C.J.’s question once and for all: What I want in my connections with people (friends, family, lovers, clients, and otherwise) is for people to keep their expectations of each other’s capacities reasonable; to consider both sides of a situation before deciding who, if anyone, is right/wrong or good/bad; and to allow everyone in a relationship the ability to evolve constantly, and to come/leave peacefully when needed. Whether honesty fucking sucks or not, THAT is what I want to give and get from my connections.

Hello Devon,

I just saw a bit of your Rentmen video interview, and have glanced at your blog.  This was enough to send you a “thank you” for your honesty, and for representing someone with talent and intelligence in the adult field.  Your pictures are great, and I believe you promised more adult work to come.  I got a “boner” when you described escorting as a “promotion” you had given yourself.

My background is also in the performing arts, and I am contemplating more adult work (I have done some), in order to help me with a career change that I have already started, toward graphic/digital design.  I am now contemplating a committed effort toward more videos and escorting in order to continue this effort, and so I found your profile to be inspiring and helpful.

I do wonder if you have felt respected in your work, since you seemed to indicate that some clients are not very nice.  I have noticed a lot of judgmental gays, even though they pay for companionship and are avid consumers of porn.  I imagine you must be finding your way, or you would not have done the video interview.

Good luck to you,

Sonny

Hello Sonny,

First, thank you for taking the time to write such a gracious letter to me. You (and many of my colleagues) prove the point I seek to make: Adult Entertainers can be (and often are) just as intelligent, kind, educated, hard working, and polite as anyone else. The voice in your email is a smart one, and I am excited to hear from someone whose story is so similar to mine.

As to your question concerning respect. I have danced in clubs, done videos, and escorted. Each is satisfying in its own way, but each also attracts criticism in its own way. Of the three, the dancing created the most numerous opportunities for disrespect (because of the face-to-face interaction with so many people); the videos provided the most public airing of insults (see: -1 + 1 = 0); and the escorting has created the most personalized forms of disrespect (given the very intimate nature of the interactions).

When you are dancing (nearly) nude, you will be open to all sorts of potshots from people in the audience. When you are on the internet this is also the case, but the people saying whatever comes to their small minds will be published for the world to see (and you probably won’t have had the pleasure of meeting the anonymous hypocrite[s] in question). And when you escort you may find yourself at the whim of timewasters and powerhungry clients who seek to dominate you with issues surrounding money.

My advice is this: If you dance, be as friendly as you can without allowing people to take advantage of you. Your bar should have a “no harrassment” policy in place. If someone is disrespectful and/or violent toward you, have his sorry ass ejected and/or banned. Do not work for a club that doesn’t support you in this manner.

If you are going to do video, you have to simply own that there is a whole strand of the human population that thrives on negativity. Make the choice to not read the discussion boards (e.g. SeanCodyReviews.com, JustUsBoys.com, etc.). They are full of unhelpful, stupid, and mean commentary that will do nothing to make you better as a person, artist, or entertainer. Look for constructive criticism, but do not look for it in those review boards.

And finally: If you decide to go into escorting, I would strongly advise that you NOT look to the forum at Daddy’s Reviews. Contact escorts directly with questions. The threads at Daddy’s take on a decidedly confrontational tone at all turns, and any value in the information you might find there gets drowned out by the ridiculous flame wars and peevish attitudes of most of the clients there (many of whom do not even hire, but merely spout off threats to not hire you if you have the audacity to formulate your own thoughts). There is very little input from escorts on those threads anymore, because most of us don’t feel like being harrassed with arguments. Listen to the advice I ignored: Do not become involved at Daddy’s. You will gain nothing from the exchanges.

Ultimately you have to define your terms for yourself. I am not obliged for any reason whatsoever to be anyone for someone else. I am Devon Hunter. You have to be Sonny. You cannot maintain any other facade. Be exactly who you are (while still being professional and kind), and extend to people the respect you want from them. But remember my platinum rule: Do unto YOURSELF as you would have others do unto you. Do not tolerate attacks to your sense of self just for money. There are lots of clients who will treat you nicely, so do not feel obligated to put up with those who would transform you into something you are not.

I wish you success,

Devon

Hi, Devon. I have enjoyed your blog, because it always raises questions for me. I recall an e-mail from Sean Cody a couple of years ago, responding to my question about leaving his Mormon faith. Sometimes emotions get into conflict with one’s reasoning, and this may make it difficult to continue on course. You seem to have gone beyond that conflict - but I wonder whether there is still some feeling that your life is still not always what you would like it to be - with friends or with clients?

I wish you much personal happiness as you move through the years ahead. I truly believe that LOVE is the answer to your “bewilderment.” Sharing that love outside of yourself will be quite fulfilling in shaping your life in the future.

- J.C.

Dear J.C.,

First, thank you for your email - it is full of a particular wisdom I have not yet learned, although you are generous to imply that I stay the course. Of all my many weaknesses, my emotions (and the way they can be easily manipulated by people who shouldn’t matter) are probably my Achilles Heel. You’ll notice that I emphasized one sentence in particular in your message to me. It is particularly applicable to me: I often find that (despite all logic and experience to the contrary) I am tossed around by my own internal hurricane, like some paper sailboat floating in a gutter and tipping over with the slightest breeze.

In terms of what I want that might be different or more from my connections with people… I have no idea… I had not thought about that specifically, and now I have some introspection to do. I have shared love outside myself in the past, and it has been very destructive to me in many ways. My reaction was to overcompensate and not connect with people at all for a while, and now I am trying to learn how to keep my sailboat standing up with a little more consistency. I think the answer lies somewhere in the middle: Giving love, but only in the appropriate measure, and only to people who will respect the gesture. Conversely, I think it’s also important not to give anger, unless it is in the appropriate measure - and that is the part that I struggle with when I am upset. There is a process involved here, and it (like many of my other moments of insight/incite) will require much upheaval and analysis before I can embrace the knowledge and put it into habit.

I am glad I could raise questions in your mind, and I thank you for raising some in mine.

-Devon

This may at first come across as a vulgar and gratuitously sexual entry; however, if you will bear with me, I will tell you why I have chosen to write it…

Yesterday I was drowning in one of my pools of emotion. I have climbed out of it much quicker than I normally do when I am mired in whatever mud my rivers churn up within me. I am not apologizing, because my emotions are part of who I am.

I spoke for an hour with my friend Jen, and we realized that I’m getting better at reining in my stallions, but that I need to focus on matching the level of my response to that which is appropriate. That isn’t to say that I am wrong to unleash the cavalry, but that I need to be more careful about when and to what degree I rattle the sabers. Almost a year ago Allen taught me to avoid scorched earth, and now I’m realizing the value of a gradated scale of alert at the airport.

Be that as it may, I then went into the normal tailspin of shame afterward for not having better control over myself; however, this time I did something special to make me feel better. I have commented on the types of touch I perceive, and after a bad day, I realized that I needed some sexual healing. (continues below video)

I went to Matt’s house almost too drained to even want to go, despite the fact that if there were ever someone I have met who should be in porn but isn’t… it is this boy. He is a fuck machine. He has blonde hair and blue eyes, a super lean body with compact and defined muscles, a cute face, an exquisite ass, and a huge dick. This 23-year-old boy was made for fucking, and he can do it for for hours. He can’t get enough! Just what the doctor ordered.

I always enjoy watching our sex in the mirror, because he is so responsive to small flicks here and deep kisses there. He writhes and moans, and is generally exceedingly flattering to my ego. But I was still just a tad distracted…

Until I caught my own eyes in the mirror and saw that I had finally connected to the moment. Between trying to suck my cock right off my body (and then trying to rip it off with his butt) I had no choice but to take the plunge… My survival was at stake! LOL

After a very long time he finally exploded into the most beautiful orgasm. His fair skin blushed red and he simpered like a little puppy. He is precious. So it was my turn, and I requested that he sit on my face while I masturbated to finish.

And then, in that precise moment, it finally occurred to me. While the mean-spirited cellar gnomes who had upset me so badly were in their little huts, groveling away over their computer screens about my latest controversy, I had a beautiful boy’s asshole in my mouth while I was jetting cum everywhere. And suddenly… those horrible people didn’t matter. They don’t matter. At all. They. Don’t. Matter.

What matters is the connection you make with people who hold you dear, and that this connection is one that nurtures you. I do not regret defending my friend. I do not regret being upset for what is happening to him. But my friend is the one who matters, not the dickhead who is bothering him. That boy last night who thinks I’m the sexiest man he’s ever met: He matters. The clients who experience joy, because they have spent quality time with me: They matter. My family matters. My cat matters.

Assholes don’t matter (unless they’re attached to the beautiful boy sitting on your face).