Haunted

It's late, I know. Still, there's something that's been haunting me since my last booking. There's something I specifically didn't mention because I was so shocked that it happened. I compartmentalized, decided that I would deal with it later. Now, late at night, unable to sleep, I have to vent.

Quite simply, she asked me about my professional background.

This might seem inconsequential, but not to me. And when I say "asked" about my background, what I really mean is "grilled" me about it. Not because she was nosy. Not because she was a journalist out to expose me (hell, this blog isn't popular enough for anyone to bother).

She did it because it just so happens she works in the same field.

Well, not exactly. Still, it's safe to say that there's use in her firm for someone like me. She happens to be a senior partner -- meaning when a position opens up, she has some pull as to who is interviewed. Meaning, if she were to mention my name, maybe -- just maybe -- I would be interviewed.

It's not like I haven't had an interview lately. Quite a few, in fact. What makes this scenario different is that I never had a connection to the interviewer. It's clear she enjoyed our one-hour fuck, but enough to bring me back with her to the west coast?

It's that last part that gets me. Let's say I interview. Perhaps I even get the job. Does she expect me to be her little in-house gigolo? Or is her act of generosity due to the fact that she thinks I can be something "more", rather than "just an escort."

I have her business card along with a telephone number and email address. Email her my resume, she told me. Oh, and toss in a few freelance projects. I see a few problems with her requests. Big problems, in fact. Problems that could be disastrous for me personally and professionally.

• Sending her my resume would reveal my identity. This is the most glaring risk. She'll have my real name, address -- everything. My one saving grace is that this blog isn't nearly on the level as Dr. Magnanti's, so there would hardly be any interest from the media should she pass the information along.

• Despite looking for work, I'm still unsure about uprooting myself from Miami. This city has been fairly good to me. Sure, I couldn't find a full-time job, but escorting pays the bills just fine. Better than fine, in fact. Am I really ready to give up the money and freedom, let alone move to a new city?

• I care about Simone more than I'm willing to admit -- and I doubt she'd make the move with me. After Rebecca left, I was pretty empty. Simone brightened up my life. She's the one person who knows everything. My kinks, my desires, what I do for a living -- the works. There aren't many other people that do.

What's that old phrase, "Be careful what you wish for?" I think that one came true. Here I am, with an insider connection to a great firm on the west coast. Too bad I couldn't just meet her in a cafe, but instead performed oral sex on her before penetrating her completely. 

Will she respect me as much as another candidate? Or am I just a piece of flesh she wants to take home with her? I realize these questions might seem melodramatic or even childish, but one of the occupational hazards of escorting is people thinking they own you.

Clients pay for an hour and get an hour. It's when they think one's entire life is for sale that the real trouble begins.