Change

A huge number of city workers return from their Christmas family canoodles adamant to find a better job. By this they mean, of course, better hours which will enable greater time to be spent with the family, equal money, for they can now tap into the resource that is their 'experience' and a different challenge (Note - A mince pie has the ability to make people believe they are invincible, that they could do absolutely anything).

Now, I fit quite neatly into this pool of people. Only with me, it's less talk and more action. I have handed my notice in and have a month of late nights and tedious tasks before I'm free. The job hunt for something 'better' started a few weeks ago and there are a few things in the pipeline. Speaking more generally, people should always have things in the pipeline. Remaining stagnant in any shape or form curtails progress and makes you boring. At least, this is what I've always thought.

The friends I have who are 'settled' in their lives will undoubtedly fling a hammer over my head in response to this last comment - but hey, it's Christmas and I'm not one to mince my words.

So, if things work out, and why shouldn't they? I'll have some time in between jobs in which to let myself run wild.

This means writing some more of my novel, applying for other interesting jobs and, perhaps most importantly, fulfilling my ambition of becoming, in some capacity, an escort or sex worker.

Those of you who have read a lot of this blog will realise that the whore theme, and my desire to partake in it, has been there from the start. Getting paid to do something others do for free is something I have no problem with. Placing myself in a position where the desire to fuck for money is replaced by the reality of actually doing it is something that excites me. And for this reason alone my task over the next few days is to shortlist some agencies that fit my bill.

Let me be honest from the start

I'd prefer to escort women on a completely non-sexual basis. The reason I say this is because, although certain women turn me on, the chances of my not being able to perform are increased. Fundamentally, this would be a waste of my time and their money - things we could both do without.

I'd happily fuck men for money - the only difficulty i have, or point i find interesting, is how I'd manage to get and maintain an erection for somebody for whom I felt little or no desire. This is where I imagine the business kicks in. My service is in demand and I have to supply. I can work to deadlines, make small talk pretty persuasively, say the odd filthy word and even string a sentence of thirty if pushed, and most importantly, I'm well endowed. My penis is in good shape and usually attracts gleams of pleasure from those who have seen it.

The policy will be to protect myself in any way i can, through sexual health visits and the ferocious use of condoms. That said, many people i know seem to harbour under the delusion that gay men nearly always have Aids. This is not true. And often, fucking occurs only occasionally. The power of a blow job and foot wank will always surprise people. If I decide to become a sex worker, I must ensure that it is done safely. That said, the person who goes on the pull every Friday night and sleeps around with a vast array of people is much more likely to catch something than sex workers are. This is because sex workers are faced with these risks every day.

The only thing I'm unsure about, in the grander scheme of things, is whether I'd like to write about my experiences knowing that some of the people reading this blog will be pointing their judgemental fingers. Rather a lot of people know who I am and that I write this blog. One things is for certain, there are certain people in my life who'll never know about any sex work I undertake. And this is reason enough not to write about it.

But, as far as you're concerned, the idea is there. The idea that I'd sell my body for money. I suppose it's up to you to imagine whether I have the guts and ability to follow my ambitions.