The Worshipper
There are as many different types of men as there are escorts. There are some who want sex the minute you walk in the door, some that need ego stroking, the Holden Caulfield types who need someone to listen, and then there are the Worshippers. Of course there are several other types as well, but I write them as I encounter them. I just spent an evening with a Worshipper.
Valentine’s Day was really strange this year. I did things I never expected I’d ever do. For starters I went to do a photoshoot for my manager. Now I didn’t have to, it was an option. The photos are posted on her website with our faces blurred or just cut off completely and with any birthmarks or tattoos airbrushed out.
So I pop over to his studio in the afternoon to take the pictures. It was sort of like taking year book photos but all porned up. Plus it’s really strange to be walking around in my sexy undies in the most unsexy of environments. We’re talking about what we had for dinner last night while the photographer tells me to arch and stretch. I can handle wearing my sex clothes when I’m being paid for sex, but when I have time to actually think about what I’m wearing I can’t stop laughing. I’m sure this managed to ruin some of my pictures. I really just broke down into giggle fits in-between every five or ten pics. Mature? No. Fun? Hell yes.
Once that was done I scampered home and went back to bed. I needed a nap for reals. I had a appointment outside the city around 8 so I googled the bus route and figured out how to get there. I could have had a driver but they charge like $40-$60 bucks to drive you. It really isn’t that much, but I work hard for my money and if public transportation can get me sorta there then I can get my lazy ass the rest of the way. Plus I like public transportation. It’s an adventure.
So I arrived roughly on time and began the trek up his street to his house. He’s a married retiree, and while I’m not sure what he did when he was working it definitely paid well.
He wasn’t unattractive, just older. His house was incredible. The kind of house I dream about having. Antique fireplace, beautiful furniture, and tons of pictures of exotic places. Lots of trinkits from all the vacations they’ve been on.
I knew for him, it wasn’t about the sex. He started by giving me a long foot rub, then left the room while I changed into a bathrobe and he drew me a bubble bath.
I climbed into the bath trying to figure out if he was going to come in with me, or just watch. He appointed himself the job of holding my champagne while I relaxed. We chatted about his life (wife, daughter, travels) and my fabricated one.
After my bath, he gave me a back rub complete with organic massage oils. That progressed into a full body rub down. The sex was within the last fifteen minutes of his appointment, sort of like an after thought. He tipped generously.
I was really just there as something for him to lavish his affection on. He wanted, and was willing to pay, to have someone to cater to. No kinks, no begging for sex without the condom, generally not at all creepy. Just an old married guy who wanted to exfoliate my back. I cancelled my spa appointment for the next day, didn’t really need it. That was my night with the Worshipper.
