FRANK January 24, 2016

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When I first went 'independent' and stopped working for escort agencies, I began to get regular clients for the first time.
Working for an agency was great in the beginning; especially for learning the ropes- I highly recommend for anyone getting into the sex industry to work for an agency that seems to 'vibe' well with yourself for a bit.
The concept of an escort agency was so foreign to me since they didn't exist on the same level in America like they did here in England.
As I've explained in past entries; it took less than 2 months before the FBI questioned me and put my name on a 'black list' (a list of known prostitutes) in America.
So I can only imagine how long an agency would last over there!

It was March 2013; I had just moved back to England, but not for travelling and 'finding myself'', like last time, instead I moved back since the laws regarding prostitution were lenient.
On top of the legality, the Great British Pound (GBP) was still super strong and the US dollar still weak- so it seemed smart to me to make my money in GBP.
Since my mother is French and actually from France- I'm a dual citizen of the USA and of France, thereby making me a European Citizen and giving me the right to live and work in any of the 20+ Countries in the European Union, including England.
The ONLY arrangement I made prior to getting on a plane with all of my belongings in 2 suitcases plus a carry on, with NO return ticket- was to stay with my ex-girlfriend and her new boyfriend.
Yes, I'm bisexual... and yes this was going to be awkward.
I moved to England with her for the first time in 2010, when I was 18 and wanted to travel all of Europe.
After a few months I went backpacking and she stayed behind in Manchester and had been there ever since.
Upon landing in Manchester I got a taxi to her place, which she was currently sharing with 4 other people, all boys- and I wasn't surprised to find it a mess.
She had already left for work and her room-mates were no where to be found
I decided that I wasn't going to sit back and relax for a bit, instead it was time to get my life on track, to set and reach every goal I had ever made for myself and to NEVER give up on my dreams.

All the years prior to that moment felt wasted away.
I never really seemed to 'LOVE' myself, my life or really even had the desire to get out of bed in the late afternoon.
Yet, ever since I had taken Ibogaine a few months before in Mexico, it was like someone shook me awake finally.
Things were clear for the first time in my life.
I had wasted too much time on self pity, self loathing and self-doubt.
Ibogaine is a naturally occurring psychoactive substance found in plants and is a strong, long-lasting psychedelic with dissociative properties
When used correctly and in the right dosage it can cause you to feel re-born, which allows you to delve into your mind and come to terms with your past, who you are, what you have done and who you want to become.
Those reading should be made aware I had to undergo blood tests, EKG tests and a psychological evaluation before being allowed to take Ibogaine. Even then I had to fly to Mexico to work with an 'Iboga Provider' who was specially trained with Ibogaine, since it's illegal in the United States.
During my Ibogaine 'flood dose' I cried, sobbed, laughed, felt terrified, felt over joyed, hugged myself and even had the most intense in-depth conversation with myself.

Since then, it has been all about ME. 
For too long I had let people walk all over me and take advantage of my kindness and generosity, 
For too long I put others before myself and for WAY too long- I didn't think I was worth it.

I found the spare room that I was meant to stay in, put my suitcases in the corner, looked around at the cold and dark space that was going to be my 'home' for a while.
I wanted more for myself.
I opened my new laptop, the last thing my last Sugar Daddy bought for me in the States (besides my plane ticket), and typed into Google search bar; 'escort agencies in Manchester U.K.'
Pages upon pages of agencies began to flood my browser and I opened each one in a new tab, carefully comparing them to one another.
I applied to all the agencies I got a good vibe from, making sure to stay away from the ones filled with only perfect barbie doll types, and applying to ones featuring a variety of girls.
It was so bizarre; clicking an 'escorts wanted' tab and applying to a real job.
I had only known the craigslist version of prostitution and even the seedier version of that!
In America all the ads of girls had their face blurred out but since my family knew, I left my face viewable which made me much more money; but also got the attention of the FBI.
I then realized the girls weren't just blurring their faces in case their family saw, but so that they couldn't get in trouble with the cops!
Yet here in England, all the girls had professional photos of themselves, their faces weren't blurred away, many of them had boob jobs, their lips done and actually looked healthy and happy!
Go to search the escorts in any major city in America and they all have horrible quality 'selfies' as their photos and the majority of them appear to be on hard drugs.
The questions on the applications varied from boob and waist size to biggest turn on's and off's.
Then they gave you a pre-made list of sexual activities and asked you to tick anything you were willing to do. The activities (listed in alphabetical order) ranged from Anal play, Adult baby minding to Travel companion, Uniforms and Water sports.
I had to 'Urban Dictionary' close to half of the activities listed.

For instance, when I read 'hard sports' I assumed it was being 'rough' and 'hard' with a guy, but was shocked to learn it meant shitting on them or them shitting on you!
I applied to over 10 agencies, assuming not many would want me.
I instantly began getting calls from ALL the agencies I applied to!
It was flattering that everyone I applied to wanted me,
Most of the agencies however, want you to ONLY work for them; they didn't want you working for multiple agencies.
I re-looked at all the agencies and decided on 'Manchester Angels' (name has been changed for the story).
I spoke with Danielle on the phone who explained she and a guy named Danny ran the agency together.
She arranged to have a driver come pick me up THAT same night and bring me to her house to go over stuff, and if all went well; I would start work that night!

So, in one day I flew from U.S.A. to the U.K. and then by the evening was already working for an agency!
I did my first out-call with them that night and made 200 pounds ($320).

'Manchester Angels', and all the escort agencies- were not what they appeared to be.
There was a lot of drama behind the scenes and everything was un-organized.
I immediately wanted to go back to being independent, but knew it was smart to learn the ropes first
After 3 months of working for the agency, I signed up to and went Independent.
I was now living on my own in an apartment right in the Northern Quarter of Manchester.
So, I traded the security, a driver and the petty glammed up girls for more money.
Every job I did with them, 40 GBP went to the agency as a fee, 20-30 GBP to the driver and 20 GBP to security.
I wasn't left with much after that.

The agency had made me dye my hair blonde (apparently blondes are in demand more), shave everywhere and dress a certain way.
Pretty much they wanted a blonde American Barbie, which I was the complete opposite of.
So, while my hair remained blonde I stopped shaving (a personal preference) and began dressing my way.
I spent hours writing my profile in an articulate and thoughtful, yet sexy and captivating way.
Then, I carefully selected numerous photos and submitted my I.D. and other required documents.
Since I had no reviews or references, it took me a few days until I finally got a booking.

Among one of my first independent clients was Frank; an 82 year old man with a very 'posh' and classy accent.
He used big words like I did, and was stunned by the way I presented myself.
He didn't expect that the hooker he hired would be so educated and well-travelled.
We had been to a lot of the same places, he had been in the army while I just roamed the earth.

Frank instantly became a regular, coming to see me 3 times a week like clockwork!
Most people, including myself, were baffled at the fact that he had the energy to see me that often.
We worked out a deal that worked for the both of us financially.
I basically arranged it so he paid my rent every month.
We bonded so much and learned everything about each other
I even told him things I feel I will need to wait until I'm out of this industry to talk about.
Frank was still married, however, his wife suffered from Dementia, and he had to hire a nurse to care for her.
Before her Dementia got really bad, he told me she gave him her blessing to see a 'lady of the evening'.
She knew how much of a sexual being he was and only asked that he be safe, respectful and to see just that one girl.

I was that girl.

As time went on, Frank began taking cute photos of me and getting them developed, he would be bring me books, write me poems and bring me my favourite flowers and fruit.
It was hard not to get attached and not care for him,
If I didn't hear from him, I would get worried- thinking the worst could have happened to either him or his wife.
I know it's fucked up to say, but he was like a Grandfather to me.
He would check in on me, bring me gifts and genuinely cared.... and gave me money to have sex, haha.
He kept telling me how talented I was and encouraged me to get back into school and to write much more.
When it actually came to the sex, he was pretty vanilla for the most part.
Never lasting more than 5 or 7 minutes and always in the missionary position.
As we grew closer he felt he could open up to me about some sexual fantasies he had always had.
The main one he really wanted to make into a reality was watching me get fucked by someone else.
At the time I didn't have a guy that I knew that was willing to have an 82 year old man watching and masturbating in the corner as we fuck.
Regardless, he was determined and found a young male escort in the area.
I had agreed to the fantasy thinking he wouldn't actually find someone to fuck me, so when he did I immediately regretted the decision.
A huge part of me wanted to call it off and another part wanted me to explore my sexuality and experience it before deciding it wasn't for me.

He arrived at my city centre apartment with a young, and extremely good looking boy around 22 years old, trailing behind him as he climbed all 5 stories to my floor.
When I shut the front door behind them, I was suddenly flustered and nervous.
I began stumbling over all my words when I came to the realization that both of these men would be fucking me.
I made small talk as I lead them into the bedroom and asked them if they wanted something to drink.
Most escorts I know, answer the door wearing stripper heels and never really take them off.
I, on the other hand, was always barefoot.
As I walked into the kitchen to grab us all water for when we were parched from fucking,
I suddenly wished I had heels on that would click as I walked away, instead you could hear my bare feet stomping around as I left them in their awkward silence.

"You can do this.You can do this.You can do this.You can do this." I told myself over and over while I spilled water on the counter from shaky nerves.
The best thing to do, was to get it over with.
I took a deep breathe before stomping back into the bedroom with 3 waters and a smile on my face.
It was clear these men were nervous too, and there was no way they were going to initiate the sex.

"Right!" I exclaimed. "Let's do this! How about you stand over there Frank, and you- what's your name again?"

"Rob." He uttered, avoiding any sort of eye contact with me, (a huge pet peeve of mine).
*I can't stand when people avoid eye contact or are super shifty. I always make it a point to look someone straight in their eye while speaking, it comes off that you are hiding something or just super self-concious.*

"Ok... Rob... why don't you get undressed?" I suggested, while I myself took off my bra and underwear to show him that I too was getting naked.

It only got worse for me as he undressed.... he revealed a 6 pack of Abs and a very long and thick dick.
I became overly aware of how young and fit he was, because there was an 82 year old man in the corner getting naked.
Frank had a pale, milky white skin tone that would have made all his veins visible even if he wasn't getting old and wrinkly.
Rob, on the other hand, had this caramel skin tone that was dreamy enough without the dark hair and blue eyes.
No wonder he was a male escort.
My eyes darted between both of their strikingly different bodies, with no idea where to actually steady my gaze.
Did Frank want me to look at him while I got fucked?
Or did he want me to act like he wasn't in the room and have all my attention on Rob?
Before I could even ask the question out loud; Rob was leaning in to kiss me.
His eyes were already squeezed tight shut, as if he was trying to hide from the moment, trying to go somewhere else.
Which made me question why he was even doing this?
What had gotten him to this point?
Instead of wanting to kiss him; all I wanted was to find out why he was here.
I wanted to trade stories and didn't want this old man in the corner all of a sudden.
But, I couldn't be that selfish, I mean here I am, getting paid to do this.
So, I had to suck it up, I had to just get on with it.

Under the circumstances, I just let him lick my face pretty much.
His eyes were squeezed so tight shut and he was literally sticking his tongue and licking whatever it could find,
I felt all my hairs stick up as his spit began drying on the side of my cheek, where spit shouldn't even be when kissing.
I remember opening my eyes and out of the corner I could see Frank beginning to touch his dick, slowly getting it aroused.
I then realized that was why his eyes were squeezed shut tight!
He didn't want to open them because he didn't want to see this old wrinkly man in the corner.
And- I can get that... I can totally understand.
Yeah, Frank IS old and wrinkly but... he was MY FRANK; I didn't see the old and wrinkly man anymore, to me- he was a beautiful guy who genuinely cared about me.
Not just about me, but about his wife, my friends and about everything I was doing.
I wanted this experience to be right for Frank and I became so aware that Rob was going to screw it up.
I had to take it into my own hands.
I had to make this right.

I stopped Rob from kissing me by putting my hand on his chest and pushing him away from my face.
He was shocked and confused as to why I just stopped everything in the middle of him attempting to start finger banging me.
"Look..." I began. "you're not really kissing me right."
You could see on his face the confusion and embarrassment.
But, come on, I'm not just gonna sit there and let this guy lick my face!
Technically I would be doing him a dis-service by not telling him he sucked at kissing, since he would be going around kissing girls for the rest of his life the wrong way!
Plus you are a MALE ESCORT, you should know how to kiss!
I grabbed his face with both my hands and began kissing him a lot slower, using my hands to guide his mouth and the angle of his face.
Turning the session into more of a girl friend experience instead of  just a random fuck.
Making him go slow and be more sensual since that was always how Frank was with me and I wanted him to see it from an outside perspective.
To show him how beautiful it felt when he would go slow and discover my body.

After some kissing I began to give Rob some oral.
I put the condom on his dick with my lips, looking Frank in the eye across the room as I did so.
Rob was sitting propped up against the headboard, facing Frank as I sucked him off with my ass in the air, giving Frank a nice view.
Rob must have become very aware of what was happening because I could feel his dick getting softer in my mouth.
I glanced up at him and could see that his eyes were open, and darting between me sucking his dick and an old man in the corner jerking off.
It was all a bit frustrating, because here I am supposed to be fucking this guy and he can't really get his dick hard.
And I mean, to be fair, it's an awkward situation.
If I had a dick I probably would have no chance of getting hard, but luckily I'm a girl and can just spit on my pussy if I'm not turned on.
I switched our positions so that his back would be facing Frank instead of his face, this way I could continually look Frank in the eye while I gave him oral and Rob could just look down at me.
It began working and Rob began throbbing in my mouth.

It's at this point that I should clarify that Frank wanted Rob to ejaculate all over my tits and then leave my apartment,
Once Rob was gone, Frank was to have sex with me immediately after- with Rob's cum still all over my tits.
That was the plan.....

Rob lifted me away from his dick and threw me onto my back, his fingers eagerly exploring everything.
We were now facing each other and couldn't really see Frank.
He entered into me and began pumping away WAY TOO FAST!
I had to stop him, again, and explain that unless I asked to be fucked hard and fast... don't do it.
Don't do it to ANY girl.
He began going slow, like I asked, and within minutes announced he was almost ready to cum.
As soon as he said it out-loud he took his dick out of me, took off the condom and began jerking himself off over my tits.
I continued to rub my clit, since he hadn't made me cum yet and I was only just getting into it!
However, Frank walked over to the side of the bed to get a good clear view of the "money shot".
Once Frank was at the side of the bed, jerking his old man dick in our faces, Rob went soft...again.

We tried to keep fucking and even some more oral but after 20 minutes of just fumbling with a soft dick, I finally had to be the one to come out and say it.

"I don't think it's gonna happen babe..." I say in a firm way since my wrist was killing me from jerking his semi hard dick off.

"Yeah.... I think your right." He admitted with defeat.

I could see disappointment all over Franks face but I would rather get Rob the fuck out of the apartment and fuck Frank since he can actually make me cum and knows what he's doing down there.
I lead Rob to my bathroom so he could clean up and get dressed before leaving.
I ran back into the bedroom to whisper to Frank, "there was NO WAY it was going to happen! So I'd rather just fuck you!" I winked.
A smile spread over Franks face.

When I let Rob out there was an awkward mixture of apologies, no eye contact and see you around's.
I burst back into the bedroom to find Frank naked on the bed.

"Jesus fuck!" I exclaimed! "You'd think a male escort would be able to cum when asked!" Laughing as I fell back into his embrace.

"I know!" Frank agreed. "What do you think it was?"

I found it incredibly cute that he didn't know he was to blame for the performance.
It's bad enough just knowing someone is jerking off in the corner, but when you can hear it and them... it's ALL you can focus on.
Instead of blaming him, I blamed it on myself.

"I probably wasn't his type at all!" I began. "He probably was into it until he saw my armpit hair and my bush, then his dick was like NOOOO!" I laughed, making a joke.
We laughed together for a minute and then began softly kissing.

Five more minutes later, Frank had cum and it was his time to leave.

Before I opened the door to let him out, we arranged our next meet in 2 days time and decided to not hire Rob again.
Ironically enough, we DID end up hiring him again a few months later because he re-assured Frank he would definitely cum that time... and he did, all over my pretty tits.

As I let Frank out, I closed the door and listened to him begin the long descent down my 5 story walk up.
I picked up my phone, which had been on silent, and found 10 missed calls and numerous text messages from more potential clients.

I found myself wishing every client was like Frank.
Asking myself, 'why can't I just see Frank and guys like him?'

Since then, Frank has stopped seeing me due to being diagnosed with cancer and is embarrassed on his appearance, regardless of my persistent compliments.
I now know that 'older' clients, usually aged 50 and older, are the sweetest and most gentle men to see.
The majority of them actually KNOW how to make a woman cum and how to make her smile!
The older they are, the more considerate and kind they seem!

I love when I get a call from a potential client and they ask,
"I'm over 50 is that ok?"
 My answer is always,

"I prefer men that age!"

SEX INDUSTRY SNAPSHOT ;; a project I worked on for Tamara Santibanez