Without paying sex chat
When the three hours were up, I thanked Monica for her time, she thanked me for being 'sweet', and I walked to the local Underground station.As I waited for my Tube home that night, I won't deny that I felt seedy. At the same time, there was an unmistakable thrill of transgression.I'd never seriously thought about paying for female company: my image of the sex industry was of kerbcrawlers and kneetremblers in needle-strewn alleyways. As I waited for an answer, a thousand terrifying thoughts flashed through my head.But, according to the article, it was very safe and very clean. I was scared of what my friends and family would think if they found out.Without really intending to, by 2000, I had saved up several thousand pounds.At about this time, I read an article in a magazine about escorting. Then, heart pounding furiously, I picked up the phone.
It was like going on a really expensive date, but one where you were guaranteed a goodnight kiss. And I was scared that the girl I arranged to visit would turn out not to be a girl at all, but an eastern European thug waiting to rob me.Doubtless the film will characterise prostitution as glamorous, a world of silk sheets and fancy lingerie.But I have to confess to knowing the truth about this sordid profession - because eight years ago, I succumbed to the lure of paying for sex.While my fellow comics progressed to bigger things, it was clear that I didn't quite have what it took. By the time I was 29, virtually all my friends had got married and were either having kids or moving out of the city. I was starting to feel desperate: lonely and with little to look forward to.One area of my life that was going well was my finances.