For Her Pleasure: Pt. 1

I’d been more than a little upended whenever Clover left for New York to pursue a new life with their long time crush, recently turned partner, but I knew it wasn’t a moment to be selfish. Love is rare and precious. Still, it left me handling the podcast alone, which was never what I wanted. I’d been considering a number of possible replacement co hosts. My first choice skipped town as soon as I summoned the nerve to ask her if she might consider the job. It’s a difficult time to ask for this kind of commitment between the coronavirus quarantine and the mass closure of clubs across America. I didn’t want to create any additional burdens for anyone already struggling to stay afloat, but simultaneously I felt incredibly burdened. Still, I had guests lined up and episodes to produce. I was not about to resign myself to pausing production.

I scheduled one of my pre-show phone calls with the latest sex worker I would be interviewing. V has done it all, more or less. We’d met ages ago reading at the LAMDA Lit Fest sex work panel. I was drawn to her humor and vivid imagery in her storytelling. In that moment, I had a flash of hope. She has an incredible energy and wealth of knowledge about sex work that she’s cultivated from decades of work in and around the industry. I knew she was going to be a compelling guest, but part of me wanted to invite her to consider co hosting with me. I felt a bit like I was pondering how to ask her to marry me. How and when could I pop the question? Was it too impulsive?

Wednesday we recorded the interview, and it was incredibly cathartic. Most interviews are exciting, but this one had gotten more personal than any other I’d conducted prior. I didn’t know how good it was objectively, but I knew it had been tremendously emotional for me. At times my nose prickled as tears beaded in my eyes. It wasn’t just what we’d discussed, it was the gravity of the moment. It was the impending isolation and having a brief reprieve with emotional intimacy filled a hole I hadn’t realized was there. We stood in the elevator afterwards, and she approached me with a question.

V: So I have this friend, but I’m worried she might feel a little shy--

I didn’t let her finish because my mind had jumped to the conclusion I wanted.

Me: Why don’t you cohost with me if she’s nervous to talk to me?

Vanessa: Uh, actually it’s about something else. She isn’t a sex worker.

Me: Oh, heh.

A pithy dad adage popped into my head, “When you assume, you make an ass of u and me.”

V: A dear friend of mine came to me recently because she wanted to buy sex work, but I felt like I was maybe too close to her and the situation to be an objective party-- and I want her to feel free to open up. She recently lost her partner to cancer, and I want to help her navigate things. And I don’t know if you’re comfortable taking this on or anything, but even if you aren’t up to it, maybe you might know someone who is? And you can say, “no” if you have too much going on right now--

Me: No, it’s fine. I’m down to help however I can. Yeah, we can schedule a consult and if she wants to continue with me she can, and if she wants something I can’t provide, I’ll brainstorm people I can refer her to.

V: Well great! And I want to pay you fairly. Do you have any idea of what might be fair for like a twenty minute consultation?

Me: It’s hard to really think of a fair price because it’s something I want to do anyway. I think women should have access to sex work, and I don’t want to create any unmanageable income barriers.

V: Well, what’s your normal rate?

Me: Haha, let’s not even consider my normal rate.

It was new territory for me. I don’t consider myself a nonprofit whorganization, but at that moment I realized I was willing to take a paycut to explore this new avenue. It was always something I wanted, but had never considered logistically. What would I be willing to accept?

V: Okay, well think about what might be fair.

Me: Would it be irl or mostly digital?

V: See, I don’t know because I haven’t gotten that far. I imagine it will mostly be online for now, with the quarantine and all.

Me: Okay. Well…

I scratched my head.

Me: I’m down for a sliding scale kind of thing. Anywhere between $40 and $100 for the initial consultation, and then we can go from there.

V: Okay perfect! I’ll uh, text you her information and you can talk to her about things. And, thank you. I really appreciate it.

Me: I’m honestly excited.

We parted ways. It was cold and I still felt emotionally vulnerable after our interview. I was shivering from both.

Later that day, V texted me her friend’s info. Her name was Lily. I tried to prepare questions to gauge Lily’s degree of experience and test the waters to see if she knew what she might like. I was nervous because I’m not an experienced cammer or phone sex worker. I also knew that all of the simple rules I’d learned for how to deal with men wouldn’t apply in the same way. Lily didn’t just want to watch me touch my pussy and talk about how much I wanted to fuck her. It would have to be a much more nuanced exchange that focused on the foreplay of arousal and flirtation. Additionally, there was the question of navigating her very real and tragic loss. Would I be acting as a therapist of sorts, or would she be able to step away from that pain and focus on playing with me? I didn’t even know if she would want to pursue sex work with me. I was getting ahead of myself.

I shot Lily a text to schedule a meeting. She wanted a video call. Somehow I’d forgotten that meant I would be visible to her. When we arrived at the appointment time and began the call, I was a little disheveled. I wasn’t pristinely groomed like I normally am when I begin sex work. It was partially forgetting, and partially figuring that she would just use me as a conduit to refer her to a better prepared sex worker. After a bit of technical difficulties, Lily materialized in cloudy pixels on my tiny phone screen.

She was older, and a little nerdy, which was comforting. I’m a nerd, so I felt we could speak each other’s language. I began by asking her if she knew what she wanted. She told me she didn’t know. I didn’t blame her. I’ve only recently begun to really articulate what I want sexually. I grew up with a lot of shame around sex and my own pleasure. About a month ago I came to the realization that I don’t like “normal” porn. There’s nothing on the front page of Pornhub that interests me. I’m kinky and particular, and I’ve always explored the depths of porn sites to get off. Of course, Pornhub has never been about women or our sexual preferences. Most lesbian porn isn’t even gay. In hetero porn we seldom see the faces of the men. It’s harder to know where you fit when the world isn’t built for you. So I began to investigate. How did she feel about being seen? Did she want to watch and remain invisible or did she want to be seen? Did she want to see me, or was it better just to hear my voice and imagine? Did she want something in person?

Lily: I think I want to see you. Maybe eventually in person, but this is good for now.

Me: Okay. That works for me.

Lily: I think I should give you a little background on myself before we go any further, just so that you understand.

Lily had dated men for years before she met her partner. She had had good relationships, but something was missing. She had made a friend who was bisexual who initially opened her up to the idea that her sexuality might be more expansive than she’d imagined. She’d never considered it before, but maybe she was attracted to women too? She hadn’t known how to navigate her new discovery. What did wanting a woman feel like? What did she like in women? She began to explore and not long after met her partner. Suddenly she felt attuned to her sensuality in a way that she’d never imagined was possible. But life happened, and she was widowed. It was sudden, and her world was upended. She didn’t know what she was capable of at this point, but she wanted to try to find out.

Me: Are you masturbating?

Lily laughed.

Lily: A lot!

Me: Oh, good! I didn’t know where you were in your body lately. What do you masturbate to typically? Is it porn, something you imagine, or something else?

Lily: Not porn. Sometimes I read erotica, but it’s hard to find what I like. I honestly get hot watching The L Word.

Me: Okay, cool. Do you like telling people what to do or do you like receiving instructions?

Lily: Well, I’m an educator, so I’m always telling my students what to do. I think I like to have someone else telling me what to do. I don’t want to have to think about it.

Me: Totally understandable. Do you think that you might be kinky?

Lily: I think so, but I’ve never explored it.

Me: Gotcha. So, I don’t know how you’re feeling about me, if you want to continue with me or if you would rather me point you in the direction of someone who might be a better match?

Lily: I feel like I enjoy talking to you. This has been a lot less scary than I thought it might be. I was really nervous before our call, but now I’m nervous for different reasons, in a good way. I think I’d like to continue with you.

Me: Well great! I have some ideas for how we can continue. I’m thinking we could start off with some online sessions, partially to build trust, but also because we’re quarantined. Then later on we can have sessions irl. We could start with a platonic lunch date or something with no physical expectations, and then if you’re comfortable, move into having an intimate session another day where you’re clothed and I’m in some degree of undress and we simply hold each other. What do you think?

Lily: That sounds great. I really like that.

Me: So, I’m free in the evenings Wednesday through Saturday. Let me know what day works for you.

Lily: Sounds perfect.

We made a date for Saturday night at 10 p.m. The call had gone so well, but I suddenly felt nervous. What were we going to do? How would I be able to make her feel comfortable exploring herself? What if I wasn’t good at this? Simultaneously I was excited. Having to service a wide variety of men-- many of whom I had no interest in physically or who were utterly repulsive initially, but who somehow grew on me-- has broadened my sexuality and preference range in a way that amazes me. I love how expansive my libido has become, and the opportunity to provide sex work to women and explore a part of myself that I’ve been more than a little shy to visit on my own was tantalizing. I could explore providing Lily with pleasure from a professional distance, and in turn examine myself and my own arousal.

Me: Do you have any questions for me?

Lily: How much should I pay you? I want to be fair and pay you your normal rate.

Me: Haha, nah, let’s not talk about my normal rate. Um. Well, what do you think is fair?

Lily: Well, I think about what I would pay a therapist or pay for a massage… So like between $100 and $200?

It was such a far cry from my normal rates, but it wasn’t about the money exactly. I was getting something out of it too.

Me: Sure. Anything within that range works for me.

Lily: Great. I’m looking forward to Saturday already.

Me: Me too.