TOYBOYS & EYECANDY ~ An Ode to My Vanity
Entry posted by Roxanne Wilde
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WARNING: If you’re an ex-lover or prospective one… don’t read any further. This will just traumatise you.
It’s a little-known fact that many people in my profession (those any good at it, anyway) end up surrounded by groupies. Such groupies are invariably young boys (25 & under) who like to bask in the notoriety of fucking a sex worker. For them it is the closest thing to fucking a porn star, other than shagging a stripper. It is also held under the esteem of ‘exploring’ their sexual horizons.
I once had it put to me that I was helping to take the novice to ‘another level’ sexually. Now come on, people - how ego gratifying is that? Could you possibly resist such an offer… especially if the said subject were young, nubile & bursting at the seams with enthusiasm?
I thought not.
Anyway, I have embraced this situation with gusto on a number of occasions. However, I was initially spoilt by my first manbag/lapdog. The child of immigrant Slavic parents, his darkhaired silken indifference held me captivated. He was bilingual, culturally astute & so self-possessed in a way that was distinctly feline. Put it this way - Tony Robbins could learn from this guy. It was hard to believe he was 21 when I first met him. It didn’t hurt that the sight of him naked left me… speechless. Between the physique & the tattoos, I thought I’d died & gone to heaven.
But I digress…
His father worked in my industry in a separate capacity. Thus, he was familiar with the ins & outs of my trade. Being raised on money generated by sex for sale, he recognised my job as just that: a job. No teary tantrums, drunken outrageous statements or pining ignorance there. Furthermore, this guy was a MAN, & had been since he was about 16. It was the cultural reality of his background.
I should have recognised him for the fluke he was.
That ship has since sailed, but with such good grace that we STILL bonk each stupid whenever he is in town. So, I have turned my interests elsewhere. I had a few flirtations here & there with dewy eyed puppies, but none had taken my fancy quite like the Balkan tomcat. Since then, I have been entwined with a couple of young ‘uns so disastrous that I have had to pen some identifying features possessed by this genus of toyboy/eyecandy.
This is in the interests of my fellow sisters ‘in the trenches’... I would hate you to suffer their petulant tribulations like I did. They are as follows:
1. Chronic Insecurity: “Is my cock as big as such-and-such”? “Do I fuck as well as your clients?” “What does such-&-such do when you see him? Do you like it better than with me?”
2. Tendency to Self-Medicate: When in doubt…binge. Preferably on everything in front of you. Then call her & cry, moan & blame her for being a living embodiment of all your own inadequacies & fears;
3. Friends as Crutches: This means relying on your friends for advice about your car, your job, your chick, the act of fucking & basically anything that comes after opening your eyes in the morning.
4. Flight Reflex: In the face of adversity, run for the hills. Especially if she starts to cry, becomes agitated or asks too many hard questions. Then you just put your phone on silent, or even better... switch it OFF.
5. Muddy Expectations: “I love you… but I can’t be with you”, “I would love to be with you, but I can’t… so can we still keep fucking? “It’s not you - it’s your job/age/kids or anything else I can think of to keep you for convenience til I find THE REAL THING”
6. Sleazy Undercurrent: “Hey do you reckon you could get such-and-such to join us next time?”, “I need you to take me to the next level” “If you loved me you would do this for me” ,“I deserve a reward for being so faithful to you”
7. Throwing Stones: “You fuck too much” “No man is ever going to love you while you do that job… can I borrow some money?” “I don’t fuck everyone like you do” “Not that you care anyway” “It never meant anything to you”
The perpetrators of such behaviour can be categorised in the following 2 subgroups:
1. Pretty N Perfect: these guys have every discernable physical feature scrubbed, refining & glistening with perfection: hair, clothes, even shoes. Occasionally Anglo Australian (I'm actually bouncing a spunky blonde at the mo), but usually a smoking wogboy with all the right moves. Another thing - thse guys will actually cut a decent rug on the dancefloor, instead of just doing the pendulum shuffle when shitfaced (ie., Suburbanites in Training, see further down).
I’ve never been able to trust a guy who spends longer in the mirror than me. Countless hours are spend in the gym, like little mice on treadwheels. Vanity - whether reflected in their appearance, car or the chick on their arm - makes the world go round. Sexually, these guys are the budgies of the bedroom. They LOVE to fuck in front of the mirror, so they can see how darned PURDY they are.
MUSIC: house & dance – the club is their playground.
CAR: 1997 Nissan Skyline R33 II or, if they’re bi, a Honda Prelude.
2. Suburbanites In Training: young Anglo saplings destined to become their overweight, Foxtel-watching fathers. However, for a moment in time (namely about ten years - from 15 to 25) they are hot. It's such a shame that this attractiveness dissipitates the second they get drunk & open their mouths.
Another annoying thing is that they move in herds, like deer. This means that an urban cougar like me has to pick off my target when he breaks away from the group (ie., ducking outside for a smoke or getting change for the pool table). Otherwise, you have to deal with all of them at one time if you want to zero in on the big kahuna.
Sexually, they are so straight it hurts. This can sometimes lead to a bit of roughplay. They are still testing the water to see what they can get away with, without ending up in court. Usually big 'tit' men, the groping can become annoying after awhile if you don't keep it all in perspective.
MUSIC: Blokey, mainstream drivel. Fifteen years ago it would've been Barnesy & U2. Now its Hinder & Nickelback. Go figure.
CAR: either a Holden or a Ford. Anything else is ‘Asian crap’. The ultimate goal in life is to have your car entered in Summernats.
3. Pound Puppies: the complete antithesis of the striking, delicately-boned prettyboy. These are the ones who end up in drunken brawls with prettyboys at suburban train stations, after everything shuts. They're usually hiding behind matted tresses, overgrown facial hair & a tattered wardrobe. Occupiers of this class should really thank their lucky stars I let them get within 20 paces of my naked body for free.
However, they invariably turn out to be sensitive. This, in turn, triggers the mothering instinct. After you find them beneath the wall of hair, they charm you with their beguiling 'please LOVE ME!' facade. Really though... they're just out to get laid.
They religiously target single mothers, vulnerable women who are likely to want to adopt them. The pound puppy is constantly threatened when in a relationship with a sexy, desirable WL. They prefer the sedate, reliable frumpishness of a suburbanite mum with a boring job, a tribe of kids & no potential suitors breaking down the door. However, the one aspect that is as predictable as this poor woman's fake orgasm is the fact he will cheat... constantly. Why? Because deep down, he thinks he deserves better.
Sexually, they’re in a quandry so they ‘act out’ being hetero – usually with ambiguous results. Think David Bowie in a Slash wig. Fraught with insecurity, they are examples of what happens when you don’t breastfeed your children.
MUSIC: metal, hard rock & grunge. There cannot be any doubt about how ‘straight’ they are.
CAR: whatever. Such considerations escape this breed of young buck. Finding better drugs, lots of 'male bonding' with peers, & having truckloads of meaningless sex to prove their heterosexuality are much more important factors in their lives.
Yes, it’s a fair assumption that the Slav left some pretty big shoes to fill. Most of the sad excuses for players I’m meeting now are incapable of meeting the Pepsi Challenge. Plenty of fish in the sea? Bullshit. Between the crybabies, posers, addicts, whingers, deceivers & lunatics, I think the local sea is pretty much empty of my breed of fish.
Five years ago, when I last had the pleasure of my Balkan playmate for a night, I asked him why he thought he was such a hard act to follow. I was genuinely interested in his opinion. An emerald green eye fluttered open, he fixed me with that charming crooked smile & said:
"Oni ostati bez novaca određeni član humus našto oni napravljen mene , dijete"
(They broke the mold when they made me, baby)
Now, that’s enough to make ME want to cry!
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