The Artist

This one client of mine -- I'll refer to her as the artist -- she's quite a good painter. Her wealth enables her to pursue her hobby with great vigor, much to her delight. She's turned one of the rooms in her large home into a studio, with many easels and paint brushes lying around.

Now, remember when I declined a client when she wanted to photograph me? Well, one of the benefits of working with the Artist is that her paintings are what can be considered "impressionism", meaning they aren't photo-realistic portraits at all.

So yes, one night, after sex, I served as a model for her. And it was both a surreal, frightening and unforgettable experience.

I'd showered after sex, just so that I felt "fresh" in order to pose. I was wearing one of her ex-husbands robes when I followed her into the studio and waited for her to set up. Then, just like countless times before, I dropped my clothes and presented my nude body for her to use.

When I say I've slept with over 100 women, I don't say that to brag -- I say it to illustrate the fact that I'm comfortable with sex. Yet being elevated for her to see, completely nude and quite aware of her scrutinizing every inch of my body -- it was intimidating.

"What's wrong?" asked the Artist. "Everything all right?"

"Hmm? Oh, I'm fine. I'm just a bit nervous, that's all."

This caught the Artist off-guard. "You have sex for a living, so it can't be the nudity."

"No, it's being naked. It's the way you're looking at me. I can see it in your eyes. You're not like that when we're... together."

"You look fine, Julian. Now just relax. I can get your a glass of wine if that will help?"

I accepted the offer. The Merlot was good, and loosened my inhibitions a bit. By the time the client was finished, she'd finished a rough outline of the painting, which mainly focused on my body. She'd rendered me faceless on my request, and changed my hair color from dark brown to a lovely shade of purple. Impressionism, remember?

I just received the final results a moment ago. As we chatted over Instant Messenger, I thought of asking her if I could perhaps keep the painting, but decided against it. It's her work, after all. She's the one to make the offer.

Lo and behold...

"You can pick it up during our next booking. Oh, and how do you feel about body paint?"

So, my dear readers, I will be getting a bit of a present the next time I visit the artist for an appointment. After having sex, she'll likely slather me in paint and allow me to press my body on white canvas. Should be an interesting night.

More than anything, I'm turned own my women who are passionate, talented and knowledgeable in their fields. The Artist taught me a lot about art, and the fact that she's making art with my help is both humbling and exciting. However, one question remains...

What should I do with the painting? Hanging a nude painting of one's self is a bit much, even for an escort.