I feel that with a couple of glaring exceptions – all of which have paved the way to making disastrous decisions, anyway – work sex is enormously more enjoyable than private life sex. During my working hours, I get to play characters, be anyone other than me, give people the secrets to their desires, & play overall love goddess.
For a window in time, I am the focus of someone else's carnivorous attention, & that excites me no end. We have no concerns other than erotic joy. The addictive nature of sex centres stems from its ability to provide an escape hatch from your cares & troubles. For a moment in time, you are immersed in the sublime.
By contrast, domesticity is bogged down by things like screaming kids, bills to pay, madcap friends, family dramas & personal crisis. The most painful void is the one between client & partner, where something that was once sparking with chemistry turns into the boring & mundane.
It's when you stop hanging on each others' words & begin to pretend to listen, merely wait for your turn to speak. Or when the sight of your partner naked body fails to make you look twice, let alone raise your heartbeat. Simply put - it's when the mystery of the unknown becomes the predictability of the everyday.
Client sex is great because it can be like aromp between two friends, with an element of the unknown. You haven't polluted each other's mindset with the mundane, such as the sight of you clipping your toenails in the bath. It's these sedate, domestic visions - eating breakfast, swearing in traffic, casting frustrated glares at waitstaff - that help to cement a partnership... but also destroy the mystique within a union.
It can be like soul murder, going through the motions with excruciating clarity as you play witness to the spark between you dying ever-so-slowly.
Even fallen in lust at first sight with a complete stranger? Have you ever had the chance to consummate this attraction? There is nothing quite like fucking a stranger against a wall in a mad frenzy. For me, the insanity has always been partly fuelled by the knowledge that (all things going to plan) you will never have to see or deal with this person again.
One of the things I love about my job is the single serve element. I'm enjoy living in the moment, not concerned with a five year plan or a shopping budget. Even with clients I have known for years, I can still conjure up magic. This is because I don't have to tolerate things like his whingeing in the car next to me, wailing on about my costly addiction to Itunes whilst I battle the daily traffic snarl.
I personally thrive on stranger sex – I’ve never met him before, possibly never will again, & we’ve got 60 minutes to make the earth move. Talk about a Pepsi Challenge! This person doesn't want to know about my ongoing skirmishes with various industry bimbos, my dicky shoulder or my loathing of baseball. He or she just wants to know the carnal side of me - the temptress who cajoles, teases & devours in equal measure.
Sometimes, it's this primal side indulgence that can make domestic banality in my life more manageable. It's easier to deal with the screamingly domestic when you know there will be a window in your day when you get your freak on.
In all honesty, I can't imagine my everyday life without the prospect of such respite...
It doesn't bear thinking about.