Five years ago three things happened to me. I picked up that ‘masterpiece’ by E L James and read it in one sitting by the light of a torch in our garden. Then I met a man who was the first to touch me with passion in years. Although it was a short-lived relationship, he transformed me and made me believe in myself. I lost a stone and a half and started paying attention to my appearance. Then I made a decision that life was too short to live in misery, so I hung out a sign on the internet and transformed myself into a mature escort. I did this with both my husband’s and my mother’s knowledge. It was something my husband actually encouraged because he knew I would bring more money into the household. I knew I would be a success because I enjoy sex in all its permutations and men can sense that.
Escorting is not as glamorous as one would think and it is certainly not as horrible as some imagine. In reality, I am just an upscale prostitute, albeit a few years older than most of the women in the business. I work out of a flat in London. Over the years my clientele has grown to the point where I see four or five regulars a day and maybe one curious newcomer. I make about £700 a day, which is more than I made as a teacher in a week. The sex doesn’t fit the stereotype that many people imagine. It can be average and it can be mind-blowing. I don’t do this work just to make money; I honestly enjoy giving physical pleasure and receiving pleasure in return.
The one stereotype about being an escort that does ring true is that virtually all my clients are married and cheating on their wives. That was true for my first two years as an escort up until one day three years ago when something truly magical happened: an American man named Jeff walked in the door and gave me the honour of being the first woman to touch him erotically since his wife passed away a number of years previously. He came to see me because he wanted a physical relationship with no emotional ties. That’s not how it worked out at all.
I don’t know how to adequately describe Jeff. He is six years younger than I, five times brighter. and literally the sort of man that make women gasp when he walks into a room. He is not tremendously wealthy but is very well off, and his success comes from his creativity and his wonderfully complex mind. I didn’t fall in love with Jeff first, but he fell for me the moment we were first together. It didn’t take long for me to follow suit. The truth is that we didn’t have full-blown sex until a week after we met. The first time he saw me we just talked for three hours straight, touching each other. It was at our third appointment when he gave himself to me fully. Jeff is the sort of man that takes pleasure in giving pleasure and our physical relationship is right off the scale. Although this may sound like mystical rubbish, right at the start Jeff felt it was as if he were destined to be with me. I knew from the beginning that I was the one chosen to heal his heart.
Jeff is not conflicted about what I do for a living. In fact, he finds it tremendously erotic and, to this day, he generously pays for his time with me, always in an envelope with a nice card. He also showers me with gifts, he takes me shopping, and we holiday together. I spend two or three nights a week at his flat and have met his children and his friends, all of whom, up to recently, were completely unaware of how I make my living. We have been seeing each other for three years, and he has remained faithful to me. As hypocritical as it sounds, it would break my heart if he slept with another woman.
When we are out together with his friends, both male and female, I have always been aware of the barely concealed envy the women in the room have about me. Here I am a few years older than Jeff, of dubious origins, and I’ve snatched away their prize. There has always been a lot of curiosity about me. The fact that I am still married but obviously in love with another man who dotes on me has brought out the green monster of jealousy in many of the women, particularly those who were friends with his late wife.
What Jeff and I knew would inevitably happen has now come to pass. In the last few days I have been getting phone calls through the number I work through from women I vaguely know through Jeff. They have become increasingly nasty and vitriolic. They claim that my relationship with Jeff has stopped him remarrying and finding happiness and they have called me all sorts of derogatory names.
The fact that I am now “outed” doesn’t bother Jeff in the least. I admire that in him so much and that makes me love him more. The truth is I know that Jeff would propose to me at the drop of a hat if I hinted to him that I wanted us to be married. He would love to know that we will be together for the rest of our lives.
As unusual as our relationship is, it works. I don’t want to disrupt my children’s lives. They are happy with the arrangement between my husband and me. They have never met Jeff, but they have heard about him. I know his children and their nanny and, although they have no idea what I do for a living, they are aware I am married. I do tuck them in at night when I am over and do in many ways feel that they are now my children too.
The question I have for you is should I divorce my husband, prompt a proposal from Jeff, and marry him? It would have to be a sort of hybrid marriage for a few years, at least until my children were mature enough to deal with the situation. If I were to do this, I would split my time between Jeff and my home and carry on with my work. I know Jeff would love this to happen and it wouldn’t break my husband’s heart, as long as he knew that I was paying for the mortgage and the children.
It is my 46th birthday coming up, and, if I told Jeff to get me an engagement ring, it would make him the happiest man in the world. Furthermore, I would love to flash it at those bitches who think I am not good enough to have their golden boy. — Escort in Love
Look, if your kids are mature enough to deal with their mother working as an escort and tucking in some other man’s kids at night, they’re mature enough to deal with their parents getting a divorce. So, come on, divorce your husband because the marriage is long over, and consider pursuing writing as a side career; something tells me a hit like Fifty Shades isn’t completely out of the realm of possibility for you. As for Jeff, you don’t need to be engaged to have a big diamond to flash around. Ask for a promise ring and call it a day. What do you need another husband for?
If you have a relationship/dating question I can help answer, you can send me your letters at firstname.lastname@example.org.