Dinner

I was surprised when Noah called me. I was even more surprised when he asked me out to dinner.

"Just as friends," he added quickly. A soft chuckle followed. "I know you're taken."

We met at a restaurant close to both our workplaces and settled into a leisurely punctuated by bouts of laughter and disbelief. For you see, I finally let Noah in on what I've really been up to since graduating from university back in Florida. He didn't believe me until I pulled up Simone's old profile at our former agent's website, as well as some photos of her and I together.

"Are you shitting me?" he said. "Are you absolutely shitting me?"

"No," I said plainly. "I'm telling you the truth. No shit whatsoever."

"I would have never suspected. I would have never thought... You were so low-key back in high school. I mean, how did you even get involved in all this?"

I gave him the Cliffs Notes version. Soon, however, I got tired of talking about myself and asked him to fill me in on his life. He lost his passion for team sports during university and is glad that he finally came out to his friends and family. He had a few boyfriends in college -- nothing serious, though he and an older guy (and by older I mean mid-30s; not truly old, just older than Noah at the time) had a thing for close to two years.

"I guess that does it," he said, after a second glass of wine. "Anything else we should talk about?"

I couldn't muster myself to bring up Simone's request. Too much, too soon. However, Noah did share that he and his latest squeeze were no longer together. It was a mutual decision, he said. Nothing worth getting upset about, really.

"Let bygones be bygones," I added. "I've had my fair share of those."

"Really?" Noah asked. "What was her name?"

"Rebecca. Another escort, believe it or not. She lives in _______ now. I still think of her now and then. I mean, Simone is great, but Rebecca was first, the most serious..."

Noah smiled. "The one?"

"Like you said, let bygones be bygones."

Noah didn't buy it -- he told me so himself. I couldn't help but chuckle. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted two attractive young women giving us the eye from the bar. I smiled politely, then turned back to Noah. He didn't notice, which isn't surprising. I suppose not noticing women goes hand-in-hand with being a homosexual.

"So what, they're hoping to get lucky with the both of us?" Noah asked.

"Not necessarily sex. They probably just want to talk."

"Hmm. Talk. Sounds kind of boring."

"Yes, well, best we ask for the check then," I said.

Noah and I bid adieu in front of the restaurant, and on the walk home I couldn't help but think of having to tell Simone that her plan was a no-go. I just didn't get the idea that Noah was into women in any shape or form. Simone would be disappointed, I thought, but she'd get over it.

Me, on the other hand... I got the best deal of all: a new friend.

And when Adam and Bailey visit during Thanksgiving, things will be even better.

The Request

Simone recently asked me how she would feel about us having a threesome. Like any guy, I assumed she meant bringing another woman into the bedroom -- but I was wrong. Instead, Simone wants to bring in another fella, and I'm not quite sure how I feel about it.

Notice how I said "not quite sure" and not  "completely opposed." We talked about the idea, particularly why she wanted to do it in the first place. It wasn't about my being inadequate in any way, just a fantasy she's had for quite some time.

"I would have told you about it sooner," she said. "But I wanted to make sure we were in a good place, you know?"

"A good place?"

"If I had asked earlier in the relationship," she continued, "it might have made things messy. Threesomes are best for established relationships, not new ones."

She did have a point. Ask your man to bring another guy into the bedroom too soon and you'll risk offending him. A bit immature on his part, perhaps, but true. But the story doesn't end there, folks. Remember Mr. Jock? Well, I've decided to name him Noah. So, he has a name now. No more monikers. Highly fitting, considering Simone would like to invite him into our bed.

I've no idea is Noah's into women or not. Or how he'd react to my asking him. Or how he'd react to the idea of sleeping with two former whores. For now, I've told Simone that the idea is "under consideration" and that I'd let her know one way or the other.

Funny, this whole thing. First running into Noah, then Simone sharing that she'd like to share our bed with him. You want to know the funniest part of all, though? Noah is messaging me on Facebook right now...

Coming Out

So, Mr. Jock is apparently out of the closet, seeing someone going on three years and very, very happy with his life. Perhaps if I had kept in touch with anyone from high school I would have known this, but Julian being Julian, I was just too cool for school ;-)

Am I the only one fascinated by seeing how people turn out years after we've last seen them? Stoners turned into witty lawyers, student athletes discovering they prefer the arts to sports, and yes, heart-breaking Lotharios realizing that they prefer the company of men.

As for me, well, going from the quiet and unassuming teenager I was, to a male escort, now to an advertising/PR professional... that's quite a journey. One that I'm not quite ready to share in public, at least not outside this blog. I'm continuing to draft ideas for new entries, though I'll admit my "real job" is taking up more and more of my time.

Without giving away too much, I happen to be working with a rather well-known retailer here in the United States. That's all I feel comfortable saying, but for those who have worked retail, you know that September through January are the most important months of the year in terms of sales. Subsequently, there's quite a bit of work to do with this account.

I hope all is well, dear readers. Never think for one minute that I've forgotten any of you, or any of the emails or tweets we've shared. I might be a retired escort, but on the inside, I'll be a whore forever ;-)

PowerPoint "Fuck List" Hits the Web

A bit too long since my last post, for which I apologize. Fortunately, I have some great news. Well, more like a great topic. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Duke "Fuck List", courtesy of Dead Spin. Click the link below: The Full Duke University "Fuck List" Thesis From a Former Student.

For those of you who are too lazy to click the link and read the story, a recent graduate of Duke University named Karen Owen recently found her personal black book on the internet. It seemed that Ms. Owen had sex with many athletes during her time at Duke. In an interesting turn of events, she made a PowerPoint presentation detailing her horizontal life, giving each athlete a rating and a rather detailed description of his body, personality, performance, etc.

This is very, very interesting to me. For starters, this type of behavior -- rating and chronicling one's sexual conquests -- is almost exclusively reserved to men. Men are pigs. Men are assholes. Men make posters with girls' names, and attach the appropriate grade (A+, C-, etc.) or a number of stars (four-stars for a great fuck, two for a lousy one) to rate her prowess in the sack.

But not Ms. Owen. No, Karen turned the tables, embarrassed the hell out of a lot of men, as well as their parents and the university as a whole. Should she have known better? Probably. Is her PowerPoint presentation and interesting read? Yes, but only to a certain point.

I'll admit: When I first read the presentation, I thought it was a hoax. The writing was so... crass. A bit hurried. Frankly, it seemed like something a guy would write. Conspiracy theories aside (mine being that the athletes actually created this presentation themselves, and that it was all a work to make themselves look good while ribbing a few others), it seems that Ms. Owen is indeed the writer.

The second reading improved my view. Good for Ms. Owen for enduring some really great fucks, some really lousy ones, and being able to chronicle it in such alarming detail. She really seems to have liked a few of the men, in particular a blonde-haired, blue-eyed god from the lacrosse team. I must say, he is an awfully good-looking fellow.

As entertaining as the fallout from this ordeal has been (at least from an outsider's point of view), I wouldn't really categorize Ms. Owen as a sex writer -- at least not yet. But hey, the potential is definitely there. She tapped into something very raw and primal with her presentation: the desire for women to even the playing field when it comes to having sex and giving men the God's honest truth about their performance.

A tip of the hat to you, Ms. Owen. If you get an offer for a book deal or even a movie, by all means, take it. Invest the money wisely and reward yourself with a financially-secure future. And though some of the players are upset, believe me, the ones who got good "grades" are loving it. You practically just made them a star.

Mr. Jock: He's Back!

Do you all remember the time I kissed another guy? Well, technically, he kissed me, but it's all in the past now. For those who don't remember, check out the appropriate entry by clicking here.

So, by now you know that I was kissed by another guy at a party back in high school. He didn't make any mention of it after the fact, and remained quite distant for the rest of our years in high school. The idea of running into him again was always in my mind. From what I'd heard, he was living in New York City.

Lo and behold, I saw him yesterday, having lunch at Cosi with the rest of the masses. It was his meal -- pepperoni thin-crust pizza -- that really gave him away. At first I thought it might have just looked like him, but once I saw the pizza (pepperoni and thin-crust being his favorites) I knew that it was the genuine article.

I walked over, said his name. He looked up, his eyes widened, then a smile spread across his face.

"Holy shit," he said. "How long has it been?"

"Almost ten years now," I said. "May I?"

I took a seat on the chair opposite his, and we talked for as long as our respective lunch breaks permitted. He was working in a stressful though high-paying field, and for the most part enjoys it. For a moment I figured him for a corporate type -- but no, he had in fact gone backpacking in India this past summer.

"So, what happened to you after high school?" he asked.

I chuckled, wondered if I should make a whore joke for the hell of it, just to see his reaction. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on one's view, I kept my answers pretty standard. Went to school in Miami. Stayed down there for a bit. Moved to New York City when I was ready for something new.

"I miss Miami, but New York isn't half bad," I said. "Besides, having my girlfriend here helps matters, too."

Then, it happened: a flicker of the eyes, a brief flash of recognition across his face. Yes, he knew that I remembered our last encounter. I didn't mention Simone as a way to proclaim my heterosexuality. In all honesty, the mention of her just kind of slipped out.

"Right," he said. "Well, I'm glad to hear your happy."

"Are you seeing anyone?"

"Not at the moment, no. Work and everything... I just don't have the time."

"I understand that one, believe me," I said. "Been there, done that."

We exchanged contact information, and I'll admit right here, right now that I friended him on Facebook -- a request he accepted. I'm sure he was browsing through the contents of my life just as I was browsing through his. Curiosity and even borderline voyeurism in other people's lives is perfectly natural from what I understand about human behavior.

He's a good guy. Handsome, well-educated, employed in a competitive field. Come to think of it, Adam might enjoy him a lot. Then again, perhaps not -- Adam is still escorting, after all. Though I'm pleased to announce that he'll be traveling to New York City over Thanksgiving. So get ready, everyone. The adventures of Julian are bound to continue!