Where Have I Been?

Much has happened these past few months. I’m working at a new PR firm, one that’s even more prestigious than my former employer. I couldn’t believe when my new employer agreed to interview me, let alone when I received the job. My new position includes a bevy of goodies, among them a higher salary and more prestigious account work.

There’s more, too. You see, I’ve also taken up escorting again. I know, I know -- gasp! Shock! Horror! The naysayers must be right: Once a sex worker, always a sex worker. Guilty as charged, I suppose. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

My breakup with Simone was tough. Despite my efforts, we simply grew apart. A three-way with Noah didn’t change that. After our breakup I was left with a nagging feeling that I would always have to live with two separate identities: “Julian” and the “real me.”

After all, how could a marketing professional ever live beside a sex worker?

The answer hit me like a slap in the face: The only way I could make both identities “work” is if I finally realized that “Julian” isn’t a separate persona -- he’s part of me, and he always has been. My clients back in Miami weren’t paying to spend time with a stranger. They were spending time with me.

Who cares if it was under a different name? Was I not there in mind and body during all of those bookings? Did I not make them laugh? Listen to them commiserate about their lives? Have sex with them, or just hold their hand and dine and drink and laugh under the beautiful night sky?I missed escorting. I missed the sheer variety of women; the way it padded my bank account; the feeling of excitement that comes with walking into a hotel or a private home and not knowing who or what would await me on the other side.

So, the outcome of my decision? I feel better than I have in months, and I’m making more money now than I ever thought possible. I keep my bookings limited to nights and weekends, and usually average about four to five per month. This is strictly a part-time venture of mine -- but good God does it pay handsomely.

I’m back, folks. And while I can’t make any promises… I think that my blog might be back, too. Stay tuned.

Gigolos

Seeing how I'm home with a case of allergies (don't laugh; it's terrible!) I thought I'd finally update my blog. Life has been hectic, but there is a topic out there that people have been asking my opinion about: the new Showtime series Gigolos.

People, I am at a loss for words.

The experiences of the men on Gigolos is very, very different from my own. For starters, I didn't have many other male escorts to mingle with. There certainly wasn't a community in Miami, and I don't really think that there is one in Las Vegas, either. The "brotherhood" was something created solely for the cameras, as most escorts operate alone.

In addition, I have something else to say: I think that at least half of the men in Gigolos are gay. And no woman in her right mind would pay money to have sex with that orange-skinned leper who looks like he's in his mid-forties.

And really, what the hell kind of name is Brace? That's right -- a fake one.

I will, however, give my seal of approval to one gigolo in the group: Jimmy. Here is a man who is good looking enough to have a real career as a sex worker. More importantly, he has a personality. No pseudo-machismo like Nick, who I truly believe is gay and is just playing straight for the cameras.

Now, what are some things I agree with on the show? I've been paid to have sex with women in front of their husbands, escort elderly women around town, and have sex with a woman who's divorced, has kids, and doesn't have time for a relationship.

All in all, I do with the men well, particularly Steven, who really does seem to put his son's welfare first and foremost. Unfortunately, many people are in sex work to support their children. It's not all single people living fancy-free, and I respect that.

But really... Brace? Lay off the self-tanner. Vin, stop calling yourself a feminist. And Nick, it's OK to come out. You'll probably be in a Corbin Fisher movie sooner or later.

Last thing: I am glad that the series is on television. Why, you ask? Because it finally proves something I've been saying for years: women can and do pay for sex -- they just don't do it enough. Perhaps if the business can produce higher quality gigolos like Jimmy, more women would be willing to give it a try.

And that, my friends, would be good for all of us.

Welcome Back...

I know, I know. Bad Julian!

I wish I had a good reason as to why I haven't been updating the blog lately. Truth is, I don't. But between the holidays, Simone and I breaking up and even more projects at work, I've been a bit of a bore lately.

The latest snowstorm took care of that. Manhattan is awash in the stuff, and the trek I made to Central Park was well worth it. Th entire area was covered in white, fluffy flakes -- from the park itself to the rooftops of all the surrounding building. When the sun peeked through the clouds at dusk and cast its orange shadows over the land, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven.

So, what of my personal life? Several girls at work offered to fix me up with single friends of theirs upon hearing that I'd broken up with my significant other. Not quite sure if that violates any company policy, but even if it didn't, I turned down the offers for now. For the first time in awhile I'm enjoying being single again.

Noah and I have been spending more time together -- platonically speaking, of course. Oddly enough the fact that he went down on me in the midst of the threesome hasn't compromised our ability to be friends. Perhaps men are just better at compartmentalizing things like that.

I haven't heard from Simone since Christmas day, when she sent me a text wishing me a happy one. I replied, and we left it at that. Of course she still reads this blog and knows my true identity -- but I'm not concerned about her "outing" me. She's too good for that. Not to mention, she was an escort herself, after all.

If there's anything I hope to accomplish in 2011, it's to continue growing professionally, and that unfortunately means less time to update this blog and goof around on my Twitter feed. Still, rest assured that I love you all. Every last person who's read this blog and emailed or Tweeted me.

I'll try to be better with updates. And should I accept any offers for a blind date, I'll be sure to write all about it here.

Cheers!

Back to Work

It's almost 5 p.m. on Sunday, January 2, 2011. I arrived back in New York City earlier this afternoon, and I'm currently in my apartment, going through my work emails and putting together an action plan for my first day back at the office tomorrow.

I'll be forever grateful for my boss, who decided to give us, her staff, a one-week vacation in addition to the two weeks we're given as part of our benefits package. I needed this break, I really did. Especially since Simone and I ended up parting ways.

It's not bad, really. Like I mentioned before, we'd been growing apart for some time now. With my work in advertising/PR taking up an increasing amount of my time, we didn't get together as often as before. My boss is pleased with my work, and as such, has increased my role at the firm, as well as my responsibilities.

Simone is still working as a dominatrix, and is doing well. On the train ride from my hometown back to NYC, I couldn't help but think that perhaps sex workers and those on the "outside" just aren't meant to be together. Sad, but true.

Oh, but there have been good times to share recently. Both Adam and Bailey were in New York City over Thanksgiving, and I was so, so glad to see them. We went out, drank, and stumbled our way into a cab like a couple of college kids. To this day I look back fondly on my time in Miami -- and having them here only solidified my view that Miami represents some of the best times in my life.

But I'm a big boy now, making my way up the corporate ladder in the most competitive market in the United States. So far, I like it -- but that could change. Maybe one day I'll return to the Miami, the Magic City, or perhaps even Chicago or San Francisco or Los Angeles.

The New Year is all about possibilities, after all. And after years of whining and pining over the life I thought I deserved, I find myself stunned, for I'm living the very life I wanted to have for so very, very long.

So stay tuned, dear readers. I realize this blog isn't as exciting as it used to be. how can working in an office compete with having sex with strangers for money several times a week?

Still, I'll keep writing. And I hope that you'll keep reading, too.

Happy New Year.

All Good Things...

Simone and I have decided to part ways.

The threesome between us and Noah? It wasn't meant to be an adventurous romp in the bedroom -- it was an effort to revitalize the spark in our relationship. We'd been growing apart for quite some time, no matter how much I didn't want to admit it.

The cause of our separation? Simply put, we're in two different worlds: her in sex work, me in "mainstream" business. That doesn't sound like much on the surface, but I assure you it is a profound challenge. Consider the following scenarios:

Do I feel like going to a swingers' party after working 10 hours at the office? Not really.

Did she want to come to a cocktail party for my office? Not really.

The split was amicable, and fortunately we didn't live together. She'll be remaining in New York, as will I. I have nothing but fondness in my heart when I look back at the times we shared together. I opened up to her in ways i never thought I could -- and after the split with Rebecca, I was concerned that I'd never find someone special again.

Oddly enough, starting 2011 as a single man feels oddly fitting. A clean slate, romantically speaking. I don't know what the future will bring -- and I like it that way. I have goals, certainly. I have the chance to work on some great accounts at work, and I want climb the corporate ladder now that I've finally broken into the industry.

Personally, I think it might be nice to date someone who's never had a background in sex work. Of course that opens up the possibility that they'll pass judgment on me, refuse to date me, or break things off as soon as they discover my past. Scary, but possible. But if there's one thing I've learned about myself these past few years, it's this:

I'm a fighter. Life's kicked me in the balls on more than one occasion -- and hurt as it did, I eventually recovered. So whatever the Fates have planned, all I say is, "Bring it on." It's the curveballs that keep life interesting.

About Last Night

Life after the threesome has been pretty normal. I get up, take a shower, go to work -- and often stay at the office too late. Such is the life of a marketing professional, especially during the holidays when everyone is trying to fit in last-minute meetings, projects and deliverables before going on break.

Noah and I saw each other for lunch this past Friday, in fact. I typically order in, but after a particularly a morning from hell I needed to get away from my desk. So, there we were, at an Italian Bistro, chatting over a meal fit for two kings.

"At least you like the people you work with," he told me, after I vented about a project whose deadline had been moved up. "My co-workers, not so much."

"Are you out to them?" I asked.

"God, no. That would wreck my career for sure."

"Really?"

"Absolutely," he said. "In my industry, it's all about appearances in a lot of ways. One of those is being a 'family man.'" He recoiled as he said that last bit. "Funny thing is, the men with families work so damn much they never see them."

"I see." I twirled a bit of pasta on my fork, then washed it down with a glass of wine. Yes, I drank during my lunch hour. Sue me.

"And Simone?" Noah said. "How did she enjoy our... rendezvous?"

"Very much so," I said. "I wouldn't be surprised if... if she asked for another rendezvous in the future."

I watched as Noah's face lit up like a freakin' Christmas tree, before he regained his composure and attempted to play it cool. Still, he couldn't hide his enthusiasm, and let me just say that I don't think it was about Simone.

"After the holidays," he said. "We could probably work something out then -- if you were okay with it, that is."

"Given my previous career, it's not like I'm all that shy about anything."

"No," Noah said. "No, I suppose you're not."

New Horizons

Hang-ups be damned. Taboos as well. For the first time in years, I've pushed my boundaries and experienced something new -- and I'm here to tell you it was pretty amazing.

The threesome occurred at Noah's apartment, that sexy, professionally-furnished loft in Manhattan's Financial District. Simone and I arrived together, condoms and lubricant included. No handcuffs or blindfolds, but there's always round two.

After a bit of wine, we settled into kissing. Simone and I, that is. For what felt like the longest time, Noah just sat there and watched. Soon, however, he inched over, smoothed a hand across my chest before pushing me away, then kissing Simone himself.

Soon we were both kissing her, touching her, cupping her breasts and licking her neck and unbuttoning her jeans. Her clothes dropped to the ground one by one -- top, jeans and eventually her bra and panties. Noah's eyes widened at the sight of her bare breasts, though he managed a smirk when I snuck behind Simone and (gently) pinched her nipples.

"Is this amusing you?" I asked him. "We haven't even gotten to the good part."

"Just not something I'm used to seeing on a regular basis," Noah replied.

Simone cleared her throat and said, "Undress each other, please."

We obliged her wish. Part of me found this arousing, performing with another man for the sake of Simone's whimsical fancy. There we were, two love slaves for her to command, to use as she saw fit, to embrace or discard or shower with all of her sexual repertoire if she so desired.

Noah led me by the wrist, then sneaked behind me and began to unbutton my shirt. The feel of his hands was foreign to me -- large, cold, a bit rough but expertly aware of where on my chest to linger. Next came my pants, then my boxers, until I was as naked as the day I was born.

I hadn't even noticed that Noah had stripped down as well. Naked, together, we turned our attention back to Simone. In what felt like the blink of an eye we were in bed, with Noah kissing Simone's mouth while I ate her pussy. Hearing her gasps and moans and feeling her nails scrape my scalp was all the confirmation I needed to know she was enjoying herself.

Next came a shudder, then a moan, her hands seizing the sides of my head as she cried out. That was the first orgasm -- but she wanted more.

"Enough," she said. "Now, you two."

For a brief second, it really hit me: I was doing this was Noah. No more pondering or weighing the pros and cons. This was it. This was real.

He reached out and kissed me first -- my lips, my cheek my neck. His hands grazed my shoulders, fingertips intertwining with the hair on my chest. His mouth worked over my own in a persistent yet gentle manner, with just a hint of tongue pushing through my lips.

So strange to feel a man working over me. Gently, he pushed me flat on my back and then kissed down my abdomen, then finally took my cock into his mouth. And yes, the old adage is true: Gay men give great head.

He let me go right before I came. I opened my eyes to see the smirk on his face, like the cat who ate the canary. Ah yes, but there was still Simone. To make a long story short, I fucked her from behind while she sucked Noah off.

Soon enough, we all came, and collapsed into a panting and sweaty heap. I fell asleep pretty quickly, and I'm sure Noah did as well. Funny thing happened, though: Simone must have been awake, because she caught a cab back to her place. She left us a note, saying that her family was going to be in town the next morning (which was indeed true) and that she couldn't show up looking like she'd just had a three-way.

That left Noah and I, in bed, together. We woke up together. Had breakfast together. And, he even walked me down to the lobby of his building as I departed.

My apologies if this entry is a bit dry compared to my usual writing. Between work (as you know, I work for an advertising firm and we do work with several high-end consumer brands, all of whom are in the midst of the Christmas rush) and life, I haven't had much time to write this blog.

But stay tuned, everyone. Something tells me 2011 is going to be a very, very interesting year.