Naturally, I grabbed the opportunity by the bollocks and dived head first into the realms of high-end hookers when my editor came to me and jokingly said “why don’t you interview a ‘high-end’ brass, that’d be a laugh.”
Little did he know that at that moment, he doused fuel on my already-ignited flame of passion for all things risqué and so began my hunt for a high-end piece of ass to interview.
My existing knowledge of prostitution is rather slim. Unless, you were to class calling your closest girlfriends a pair of brasses or knowing of the brothel above Burger King in Borehamwood High Street as knowledge, the first hurdle I met was actually finding someone who was/is paid for sexual services.
I once had a friend who moved into an flat off Shoreditch High Street and he would tell stories of how for the first month they’d have a number of knocks on the front door, with men on the other side attempting to walk straight in with no questions asked.
The friend in question would describe them as a complete variety of gentlemen, from ‘up-market’ city boys to geezers sporting high-vis jackets and hard hats, the diversity of clientele seemed quite something to behold. It wasn’t until a week of living there and having callers at strange hours of the day, that he plucked up the courage to ask what the hell was going on. The reply? You guessed it, poor James had found himself paying twelve-hundred quid a month for an ex-brothel.
James, being the only contact I have that was remotely connected with the world of prostitution was clearly not the go-to person to help me find someone to interview. Google however, was.
Expecting it to take a lot longer than 10 minutes, I found quite an interesting array of ladies to pick from, all based in London, all seeming quite up for it and all expensive. This is what I was looking for.
A high-end, expensive piece of ass.
This is where, unfortunately, you’ll have to forgive me for I cannot divulge as many juicy deets as I would like. For example, I can’t tell you which adult website I found this lady on, nor can I give her real name or exact location. I can however, tell you that for a night she charges a minimum of £950 and that’s without extras.
I’m not talking about a side of onion rings and bacon on your burger kind of extra. I’m talking oral, anal and a wide array of other activities that come with a hefty price tag and that are simply too explicit to disclose.
So explicit in fact, it took all my might to disguise me choking on a mouthful of latte as a ‘it went down the wrong hole’ kind of gig.
Awful I know, but I’d already come to a few stereotypical assumptions about the individual I was about to be acquainted with as I sat in the quiet Starbucks 'round the corner from Liverpool Street Station. I mean, I don’t know if I was expecting her to strut through the door sporting PVC thigh-highs, a red latex bodysuit with a whip in hand, but I can safely say she couldn’t have been further from the dominatrix-esque female I had swimming about my mind.
Let’s call her Lucy shall we?
Lucy is 28. She’s a tall, slender brunette honey wearing nike gym leggings, trainers and an oversized fuchsia PINK hoodie. Her skin is tanned, her hair is freshly blown and she’s made-up to a minimum. She sounds pretty normal, wouldn’t you say?
She orders a skinny wet cappuccino (she’s one of THEM) and greets me with a huge smile feat. the straightest, whitest railings I have probably ever seen. She’s a sweetie and completely opposite to my naughty presumption which I now feel was completely wrong of me.
Oddly enough, the interview was more of a chat between two girl-friends laced with off-the-cuff questions on my behalf. My professionalism flew straight out the window and was replaced with “omg so tell me the weirdest shit you have ever had to do” ... Great, Hannah.
The story goes that Lucy began working in the sex industry 4 years ago, after graduating from university with a first in English Literature and Drama (which she tells me comes in quite handy for role-play circumstances, naturally eh!) she was introduced to the ‘escort’ world by a friend and it seems she has never looked back.
I know what you’re thinking… “an escort isn’t always someone you pay for sex.” Not always, no but I hate to break it to you kids... after some extensive research into such subject I would have to say a high percentage of escorts do offer the add-on of a night of ‘romance’. Sorry not sorry.
Explaining that her student debt was a huge push for her to start working in such a role due to the considerable amount of debt she got herself in, she decided to be fully committed to her job. She upped her prices and now works as what she describes herself as a ‘city girl’ that caters to the likes of ‘city boys.’
“Bankers, brokers... generally men with highly paid, stressful jobs. I have regulars that know exactly what they want and when they want. I have newbies. I see it as a business now and would never judge anyone for trying it. I earn an absolute fortune and can choose when I do and don’t work.”
The phrase “see it as a business” was the real deep, hard ‘fuck!’ moment for me. It didn’t sit well that she was describing herself as that and I don’t think that feeling for me will ever be extinguished.. Unless one day maybe I throw away the pen and … just kidding. *inserts suggestive, unsophisticated comment about not being able to give it away for free, let alone charge for it*
Lucy proved to be intelligent and not in the slightest way naive. She’s an adult, a young, beautiful, female boss that is making an absolute killing. She speaks well, is painfully polite and completely the opposite to what I expected.
... I am aware that not all prostitutes or escorts can be like this. I mean, I’m sure I’m not the only person who's walked through Kings Cross of an evening and seen a lady of the night looking questionable, asking men if they want some “bizznizz”, however Lucy has somewhat surprised me.
It’s not for everyone, but fuck it! Each to their own, life is about being open-minded.
Personally, I’m sticking to the pen and the moral of the story? Never judge a brass.
I should probably stop calling them that.