Month: June 2014

CONFESSIONS OF A HIGH CLASS SEX WORKER – as told to Deborah Bennett

Most people’s getting-ready-for-work routine is a shower, sensible work clothes, a piece of toast and a ride on public transport; while mine couldn’t be further from that.

After a shower, shave and douche, you’ll find me sorting through my overflowing collection of lingerie, pulling on silk stockings, applying make-up and a gentle spritz of Lady Million by Paco Rabanne; then I’m ready to greet my client who has been booked and screened prior to his arrival.

It takes just an hour to transform from Pippa: the girl who was educated at an exclusive Lutheran college and grew up in the leafy greens of Adelaide, into Grace Bellavue: high class sex worker.

I meet my client at my city apartment with a kiss, we chat, have a drink and I lead him to the bedroom where my workday really begins.

But my business wasn’t always this way.

When I chose to become a sex worker at 17 years old, things were different.

I was underage with a fake ID, and every weekend I’d go to a brothel and lie to my parents, telling them I was going to a party.

When I finally told my family I was a sex worker, they kicked me out, although I think they secretly knew what I was doing all along.

What I was doing was being paid $35 for 15 minutes and seeing around 8-13 clients a night.

When I broke it to them, Dad cried, Mum vomited and they gave me an ultimatum, but I had made up my mind – I wanted to be a sex worker.

At the brothel, I worked for a manager whose face was tired from years in an unforgiving industry.

This inspired me to choose the name Grace, because Grace was a nice name and I wanted to be a nice hooker.

My first time was horrific; I was pounded for 40 minutes by a hairy, sweaty business man who grunted on arrival and snorted on departure.

I sat in the toilet swabbing the blood and nursing my dignity when one of the old girls came in and said, “Honey, you don’t have to let them do that, you know. You’re in charge.”

That’s when it changed and I started directing my own show.

My business is my baby and I have built it from the ground up; I love my job and I can’t imagine doing anything else.

Through sex work I have met some incredibly inspirational people, had some remarkable experiences, and have been lucky enough to travel.

Recently I took some time off from work for personal reasons; I had become depressed and I got quite lost so my holiday in Africa is a chance to get Pippa back after a difficult six months.

Sometimes my Grace persona creeps into my Pippa-life which makes it difficult to switch off; the phone is constantly ringing for bookings and enquiries, emails are nagging at me and occasionally the costume I wear starts to become heavy.

As Grace, I have to look good all the time which means Pippa can’t be lazy very often.

It’s hard to turn off the sex, especially when I’d only had sex a couple of times before I worked in a brothel, so my entire sexual life, aside from those few experiences, has been in performance mode.

The sex I have with my clients, though in abundance, is all partner focussed which means often I spend so much of my time pleasing others, I forget to please myself.

I can count on two hands how many times someone has made me orgasm despite having had over five thousand partners

I rarely fake an orgasm, though, because it would be an indication that someone is doing something right when they’re not and that defies the purpose of my job.

Often men come to see me for guidance and education so if I’m giving them fake responses, they’re not learning anything and I am not doing my job as a sexual mentor.

An orgasm, for me, is also an emotional response so I can only really climax with someone I am in love with but there’s not much room for love with my job and I would find it difficult to give up my job for a partner.

I am often asked if my world is as glamorous as Pretty Woman or Secret Diary of a Call Girl and at times, it is – I received gifts, wear gorgeous lingerie and have sex with incredibly wealthy men.

But the main difference is the hard work that goes into making a client happy so they can leave knowing they have had the experience they paid for (around $800 an hour).

And yes, I kiss! It seems strange to me that kissing would off limits when anal sex is not!

Despite the stereotype, I didn’t go into my industry because I needed quick money to feed an addiction or keep debt collectors at bay.

I chose to have sex for a living because I was young, curious, and horny and I loved being Grace Bellavue.

These days, I’ve developed my business to a point where I can pick and choose when I work, who I work with and where I work.

Sometimes I take Grace on tour where I travel to different cities and spend my holidays in the bedrooms of some of the best hotels with the most beautiful views in the country.

Sometimes I work with other sex workers and sometimes, like this year, I take some time off to travel or rest; but it’s always on my terms and I’m not sure I would ever want to change that.

Every day is different in my job and I have the pleasure of sleeping with some beautiful men and women.

I have a lot of regular clients who I have developed a good relationship with and who I have grown very fond of; my youngest client has been 18 but my oldest client is 83.

My married, or attached, clients come to see me because it’s a non-judgemental space and they can give over the desires they can’t necessarily communicate to their partners.

It’s far more discreet and less stressful than an affair.

Sometimes men have a fantasy in their minds that they’d love to play out but know their partner would be against it; that’s where I come in.

A lot of my married clients prefer to come to me to live out their sexual fantasies rather than put their partner in an awkward position, or jeopardise their marriage or partner’s trust.

Some of my clients come to me when they are tired, stressed or in a slump and they treat our time as they would a psychologist’s, but with less psychobabble and more stimulation; I listen, understand and give them a chance to just be free for the duration of our booking.

I see many couples who come to spice up their relationship, live out a fantasy or treat each other to a sexy weekend, which I love because I am very attracted to women; and sexy play with couples is always a lot of fun.

My life as Grace Bellavue is beautifully chaotic and I wouldn’t change any of my experiences for anything, but it has been an incredible journey to get to a stage where I can proudly call myself a sex worker with the support of my friends and family, and know I am a business woman who has built a company from the ground to the success it is now.

A STEAMY LIASON – by Deborah Bennett

The cool water lapped around my body and I submerged myself one last time, swimming to the surface to float on my back. My hair tickled my shoulders and the gentle waves created by my body massaged my head, sending pleasurable tremors of excitement down through me and back up again. God, I was sensitive when hung-over. A swim in the hotel’s pool had been the perfect thing.

Against the pool’s edge, my husband rested his head, his body enveloped by the water. His eyes were closed and his chest gently raised and fell. He was feeling as rough as I was after his cousin’s wedding the night before where we’d drunk ours and everyone else’s share of red wine.

I swam to him and he instinctively invited me against his body. I buried my face in his neck and enjoyed his buoyant form freely swaying in time with me.

We were alone in the lap pool, except for a younger couple nearby. I recognised them from the wedding; they were on the bride’s side. They were splashing each other, kissing and laughing. She caught me looking at her and smiled cheekily, running her hand down her man’s chest until I couldn’t see it. He responded by running his hand over her breast, into her bikini top and fingering her nipple. They didn’t seem to care they that we were there.

Feeling Mark get hard against me, I realised he was watching them too. “I’m ready to get out,” I whispered to him. I felt as if we should leave the other couple alone and I was now desperately horny.

“Why don’t we go in the steam room for a bit before we go back to the room?” he whispered. His breath against my ear sent electricity through me and I was willing to go wherever he wanted me to.

I felt the girl watch us as we climbed out of the pool, grabbed our towels and headed to the steam room. I looked back and she smirked sexily while her man kissed her neck. I smiled back and let the steam room door close behind me.

steamy liaison

The white, tiled room was perfectly clouded in steam to hide us from the world outside but light enough that the heat wasn’t stifling.

Mark pulled me towards him, kissing me hard. It was obvious he wanted me and the thrill of having other people right outside was achingly sexy.

He sat on the bench which was wet with condensation and pulled me down on him, hungrily grabbing at my wet body and kissing the back of my neck as I faced away from him.

The door opened suddenly, giving us a fright. I jumped up, holding my towel against me. It was the couple from the pool.

“Sorry to startle you,” the man said with a sexy English accent. “Katie and I just wondered if we could join you?” He offered his hand to Mark to shake, introduced himself as Peter then climbed to the second level bench, his dark eyes settled on Katie.

Katie moved closer to me, reached up and moved a piece of my hair that had stuck to my cheek. “You’re incredibly sexy,” she mumbled. As she touched me, my body, like a magnet, gravitated towards her. “I’d like to kiss you,” she said.

Mark and I had only ever dabbled in group sex once before and I’m not sure how these two decided we’d be keen to couple with them; perhaps they just took a gamble, but I was completely under Katie’s spell and willing to go with whatever was about to happen.

I gently tugged the top of her bikini bottoms, pulling her to me, and kissed her mouth. Women are so delicious to kiss. They are so soft and passionate. The steam in the room was making me sweat but the feel of her small, firm breasts against my large ones was making me hotter. She undid the halter neck of my bathers and smiled at my exposed tits. “My god,” she gasped. “They’re incredible! Look, Pete! Aren’t they incredible? Don’t you want to touch them?”

Katie took my breasts in both hands, kissing, licking, teasing and playing with them. I could hear the guys’ breathing getting heavier as they watched us enjoy each other. My hands ran all over her slim, tight, wet body, taking off her bikini and touching her smooth, waxed vagina. Her knees buckled slightly as I circled my fingers around her beautiful little pussy, teasing her and then sliding my finger inside her.

This seemed to be too much for Peter and he groaned with desire. Katie giggled. “Are you feeling left out, babe?” she purred, and as if to drive him totally crazy, pushed me down on the bench, spread my legs and knelt in front of me. She looked up at me; her blonde hair wet against her face and her big blue eyes danced with playfulness. “I’m hungry,” she laughed and plunged her tongue deep inside me, biting, licking, sucking and bringing me to orgasm.

Licking me off her lips, she climbed up to Peter and took his cock in her mouth. Mark had been quietly watching the whole show unfold but was obviously aching with desire now and I wanted him just as badly. Katie knelt on the first bench, making a meal of Peter’s cock while Mark bent me over and slid inside me easily; I was still wet from Katie’s mouth.

Unable to handle watching Katie’s little pussy bobbing up and down while she pleasured Peter, I manoeuvred ourselves over to her, took her arse in my hands and licked her vagina. This drove Mark crazy and made him fuck me harder, so I licked her harder, which made her suck Peter harder. Sweating, fucking, sucking and licking, the sex in the air was pungent and delicious; each one of us pleasuring each other in a train of desire.

I felt that Mark was ready to cum and I wanted us to all climax together so at the right moment, I pushed two fingers into Katie, licked her clit and ground against her g-spot with my knuckles. She yelped with pleasure which set of a chain reaction. She grabbed Peter’s cock, making him orgasm in her mouth, she orgasmed on my tongue and Mark came deep inside me.

Breathless and spent, we sat, comforted by the steam which cradled our bodies, providing the perfect after-sex atmosphere. Katie and I dressed in silence, kissed one last time then said our farewells.

On leaving the steam room, we noticed another couple had decided on a swim. They greeted us as we walked past. “Hot in there?” the woman asked.

“Yes!” we all agreed in unison and then dissolved in giggles before going our separate ways.