I wrote a post last week about the reality of being a sex worker in a relationship , explaining that it's sometimes good, sometimes hard, often complicated. Well, I have intimate experience with one of the greatest media-fed taboos in sex-worker romances: I fell in love with a client once.
It was completely unexpected. I have generally been good with emotional boundaries, having been in nonmonogamous relationships for years; I knew how to keep people as close or as distant as I needed to.
It was part of what made me a good sex worker. Or so I thought. I remember the session. He had sent me a long email detailing this crazy scene that really weirded me out, and I was nervous about it; particularly as a pro-domme, I tended to make it clear that I would do as much or as little as I wanted, but I still wanted to satisfy some of the client's needs. This one wanted me to spit in his face and restrain him in a variety of intense ways as I humiliated him, things I didn't tend to do with my lovers at home.
I worried we wouldn't click well during the session, but I was determined to try. I walked into the dungeon, and he was so attractive that I couldn't believe it. Only a few years older than me, hot, and submissive? It seemed like a dream. I gathered myself together, determined to offer a dominant experience that would be sexy for us both, and then just walk away.
I tied him up and called him all manner of humiliating things and found myself turned on by how he reacted, by the way he writhed for me. I found myself relaxed, comfortable, enjoying myself even more than usual.
