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How did I get here - part 2


Anya Sonder

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Ok due to popular demand and many requests, I thought I would write part 2 of my night. I kind of resisted because a) it sounds a bit unlikely and B) I haven't asked permission from my tantric friend - but I'm pretty sure she is ok with it.

 

So when our time was up, we got dressed to leave and as I was saying thank you, I mentioned that I was staying in town that night (as I live a way out and I wanted to be able to relax and bathe in the feeling without having to think about the real world for a while). I said that if a lady was free later on, I would love to catch a bite to eat and bend her ear about why she might think I would be suitable to enter the industry.

 

She said she had a booking and that she would see. I left it as a polite but lovely way for her to decline and went to go and lie down and reminisce about my weird and wonderful day so far.

 

About two hours later my phone receives a message: How about dinner?

 

Oh Christ I was like a nervous teenager all over again. Hell yes.

 

So I got dressed and made my way back to her room. I think we kissed again but I can't really remember. We decided to walk down Rundle St and find somewhere to eat. She wasn't dressed in any way that I would expect a WL to be - fitted jeans, flat boots and a black jacket. But she had style and confidence and I relished the fact that we were passing people who would never in a million years guess this lovely little secret. We ordered our food and she patiently listened to a multitude of questions from me about the industry, how it works, what are the pitfalls, what are the amazing things. She was so generous with her time and her answers and it completely smashed my pervious belief that women were somehow dragged into this against their will. Here was a woman that loved what she did. Who respected the men (and women) she saw. I realised that I could also possibly be this person. Yes. I. Just. Might. Be.

 

We walked back to the hotel. Up in the lift. Outside her room. I said thanks again and that I felt meeting her was meant to be. I reluctantly turned to walk back out and she said.

 

 

....."What is it that you want?"

 

..... I turned. And looked.

 

......"If you want to be true to yourself, you need to be able to say what you want..."

 

 

Oh fuck. Zen master. Sensei. Fuck I'm nervous.

 

...."Um - I want to come back to your room"

 

..."Well then, come back to my room..."

 

(Inward fist pump but managing to maintain some semblance of nonchalance) I turned on my heel, looked at her, she swiped the room card in the door. And. In. We. Went.

 

To her room. To her bed. To her soft lips and to her buttons. zips, clasps. To her skin and her hair and holy fuck her tongue.

 

To "Are you sure you're not too tired, nor to jaded for this". She said you have to take what you want. So I took. But only a little bit. Because I wanted her to not feel like I just wanted to take. Does that even make sense.

 

And then we just lay together two soft bodies, talking, laughing. Talking about the men we like to fuck. About the funny things we have done.

 

And then as I knew she had a booking in the morning, I said that I would let her sleep, got up, got dressed and made my way out.

 

On the way out she says

 

....

 

"Let me know when you are up and running. I have a few guys that would be interested in a threesome...."

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Great read Anya, funny I hadn't found this earlier.  makes future possibilities even more exciting

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Part three looks like it may be occurring in September. Hard to get a Sydneysider and an Adeaidean in the same place!

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Amazing how one suggestion can lead to a new path and endeavours.

 

Thankyou for sharing both parts of your entrance into this world of sex, fun and adventure. Good luck with your endeavours.

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Anya, once again, that is a fantastic insight into your pathway in. It should be published in mainstream media to help break the presumptions that you mention in part 1. Thanks for your reply there, I've only just seen it.

 

Also interesting is your reply saying "My only contact with someone I knew was a sex worker was a girl from uni, who earned a load of cash but was deeply sad and resorted to alcohol." I believe in the majority of cases a girl should be mature of mind with a bit of life experience prior to entering this industry, would you agree?

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