How's this for a line from some porn fantasy story: "I am a part time male escort dealing with women clients."

OK, now time to get back to reality: It's not night after hot night with well-toned foxes.

Get real. Those foxes can get their own dates.

Women are quite different from men. While with men, sex is almost always a key goal of an escort session, with women it's just a possible factor. The women I deal tend to be quite ordinary, though each has a different story. And I like it that way. It's about caring what the client needs. Those needs can mean many things from a boost of confidence to trying something they'd never do with a husband.

* * *

I got into this through my neighbor Jamie, a single woman in her late 30s. She's a good friend with whom I sometimes share a bed. She runs a loose 'agency' that sets people up for dates or social events.

It was one morning after we had an energetic night of buddy sex. I was still in bed, she was wandering about the room. Out of the blue she asked if I "treated other women as well as you treat me?" I was taken aback. How the hell do you answer that? I stammered a bit.

Anyhow, it turns out she is always on the lookout for men she can trust, willing to sense and take care of her clients' desires.

"Was that an audition?" I jokingly asked, glancing across her still-rumpled bed. "Is this your casting couch?"

She sat back down on the edge of the bed and leaned over me. "Maybe" she smiled. "But I am serious, though. You're gentle and aware and willing to go the extra bit". After that statement she bent over and kissed me lightly on the cheek.

I asked if she pre-tested all her 'applicants'.

"This is a serious business. I can't have some guy who is a jerk in or out of the bedroom with one of my clients" she replied.

"Did I pass?" I asked.

"You'll do". She said. After all that..

"Gee thanks"

"Do you have someone in mind?" I was getting curious and followed up this conversation.

"Now that I've got you calmed down" she said with a wink, "I do have someone in mind. Someone who's not just a client, but someone I know."

Beth, it seems, is a widow (5 years) of about 45, somewhat shy, she's been celibate, had not even dated, since her husband's death. She was going to an elaborate fund-raiser dinner, and had asked Jamie about showing up with a 'date', if for nothing else, to quiet the matchmakers. Jamie had encouraged her to try this because it would be a good chance to explore coming out of her shell while still being in control, able to call all the shots without feeling pressure to meet anyone else's expectations. I began to understand how different this line of work was from normal dating.

* * *

That was my first experience in this sort of thing.

I went to Beth's house a bit early, dressed casually as Jamie suggested, ready to change into my evening attire. When she opened the door, she, by comparison, was already dressed for the town. She was a modest middle-aged woman, with some of the pounds of maturity and with a soft, womanly look. This was suddenly a new perspective. You pass women like this in the market all the time. But, at this moment, things were a bit different. It was my job not to pass her by. She was dressed up, in (an apparently new) mostly black outfit with that slightly daring, low-cut neckline that mature women are allowed by custom. I introduced myself, she seemed happy with me and we settled in her living room with a couple of glasses of wine. I sat on the couch, she chose a chair, but watched me the whole time.

Reading body language is critical in this business. She was nervous, unsure. She told me how she had "never done anything like this before". I smiled, reassured her to feel free to run her evening how she wished. She relaxed a bit, asked me about myself.

No actual business transaction was done here. Jamie takes care of that herself, privately. It's best that way. Women are not like men. There is a big psychological difference between a woman escort and a male one. A male client can get a big sexual rush slipping some bills into his 'date's' thong. For a woman, handing cash over can be awkward, to say the least.

We made small talk. When it got a bit quiet, I asked if I should start getting ready. She led me, carrying my clothes, to her bedroom.

"You can get dressed here," she said.

She was about to turn to leave. This is where subtlety comes in. I paused a few seconds, then started to undress, though not in a big rush, and not looking directly at her. I did not make eye contact. She had no pressure to leave the room; she could make a choice without feeling self-conscious. She was the one in control.

She did not leave. She sat down in a corner chair, pretended to continue conversation, as I gradually removed my shirt, then my shoes and pants. She quietly watched, sitting in her black evening dress, making small talk, as a silk-boxer-clad younger man was revealed before her, perhaps not much different than talking to her husband in years past. As I reached for my clothes, I asked if I could use her shower to freshen up.

"I'll get you some towels," she said, as I stepped into the bathroom, leaving the door partway open (allowing her to decide what to do). I dropped the boxers and stepped into the shower. The water felt good. I took my time, allowing her to choose her options. As I turned the water off, I could hear her step into the room behind me to hand me a towel. I turned to face her. I made no effort to hide myself, and she, after a few moments, made no further effort to avert her eyes.

I guess I had suspected that it might come to this. She was a bit more brazen now, well dressed, perfectly made up, as her paid escort stood naked and began to dry. Her gaze quietly took in every inch of my skin as I dried, then dressed. From that point, the dynamic between us had changed a bit.

She had taken control; even after I was dressed. And I must admit, it was new situation for me as well. I was finding it kind of exciting.

We went out that night, went discreetly through the social rituals with me as her devoted date. I was introduced as a friend from out of town. I brought her drinks, met her friends, made her the center of my world, ignored the other women. Later in the evening, when no one was looking, she put her hand on my thigh and watched me squirm. She was smiling, with a glint in her eyes, suggesting naughty enjoyment of her situation. But there was no mistake, I was the toy. That's what I was paid for. On the way home while I was driving she rested her hand on my thigh and squeezed a bit, stroking it lightly.

When we got to her door, she turned and kissed me quickly, then chattered nervously. "Thank you. I had wonderful time. I realize I'm probably not wild enough for you. Hope you're not disappointed, but feel free to come in for another drink". "You're beautiful," I replied "I'd like that".

As she walked in front of me, there was a hint of naughtiness. Beth the seductress was battling Beth the conservative woman. She was loving her position and afraid of it at the same time. The naughty Beth suggested I might want to change back before leaving (obviously not really necessary). This time there was no need for hesitancy, she sat on the bed right next to my pile of clothes.

"You know," she said, "I've never been with a naked man other than my husband."

"I'm glad to be with you," I smiled and slipped off the boxers with my pants.

She was curious, there was no doubt about that. Women don't often get to be in this position with a naked, strange man and yet be fully in control with no pressure to surrender. I sat on the bed near her and leaned back a bit on my arms. She kept up the small talk. Told me she had been nervous about tonight, but that she felt comfortable now, that no man had seen her naked except her husband and she still didn't feel comfortable with being seen (was she apologizing to me for staying dressed?).

"Relax, honey," I said, "this is your night".

That seemed to work. She started to reach for my cock and looked at me for approval. I smiled. She touched it. It twitched (being explored by someone so shy has an erotic appeal for me). She wrapped her fingers around it, I began to stiffen in her hand. (Of course professionalism would demand I do my best to make her feel desirable, but acting was not really needed here.) She giggled as it grew in her fingers, she reached down and touched my balls. My cock hardened fully in her hand.

"You like that don't you" said naughty Beth, a voice slightly trembling as I watched her breath quiver her breasts in her cautiously low cut dress.

"Ooooh Beth!" I hissed. Yes, my conversation was a bit over dramatic but she seemed to like hearing an excited man call her name and smiled as she began to stroke me more vigorously. She was playing with my cock, looking at it closely, making it twitch, experimenting to see what made it react.

 "I enjoyed being with you tonight" she said again (where did that come from?) then seemed to pause and ponder her next words.

"I don't know if I'm ready to give you what you really want... I'm just not ready". She seemed embarrassed about her hesitancy.

"Beth, darling, relax, this is your night, I'm having a wonderful time". I said that sincerely.

She was still rubbing, when she seemed to hesitate and think a bit, "But I know you guys get... What's it? Blue balls?"

Wow, That sounded like a line some date had fed her in high school, and she still believed it. But maybe that was it. She was reliving an earlier time, before her marriage, before any experience.

But behind that innocent statement was a desire to take it to another level. Conservative Beth was still not at all ready for actual sex, but naughty Beth could have her way with this guy, all the while telling herself she was simply helping his needs, while conservative Beth remained fully hidden in that dress. It was a different kind of situation for me as well. Had this been normal dating, my mouth would likely be buried in breasts and pussy by that point, but those lovely targets were, for now, quite out of reach.

Naughty Beth was ready to see something happen, and I was, by this time, desperately willing to demonstrate She rubbed her thumb into the front of my cock.

"Oooh Beth" I said so she could hear, and came in a stream that sprayed to my chest, and a shudder that shook the bed. She giggled, again, then smiled, a deliciously slightly naughty smile that said that she had enjoyed this more than she'd be able to ever admit.

"That was nice" she giggled, and I took her cum soaked hand in mine and held it for a bit. She finally broke the silence, "Let me get you a towel" she said, and she quickly returned with a fresh towel and meticulously cleaned me off.

Conservative Beth then spoke "You do need to go now. I can't have the neighbors see a man staying over."

"Yes it's time, I need to go," I agreed, dressed, and gathered my things. Watching those breasts still heaving behind their sleek black barrier when she gave me another good night kiss (with a little tongue this time).

To be honest I wished I had seen those breasts on a more intimate level, but she apparently was comfortable and secure. And, at least tonight, had kept her mystery intact.

"I'd really like to do this again" she said, and after a pause, in a very shy voice "Maybe we can do more next time". I'm not sure what was in that line, perhaps she was not sure either.

I hoped that this shy woman had gotten her money's worth. After all, it's all about the client, isn't it? But why did I feel good? I smiled as I went down her walk.