Maybe she doesn't want to take your money because she doesn't want to tarnish what you two have. Or didn't want to ask you for fear of losing you.
Maybe have a sit down with her and really ask if she would talk about you and her, and other options for her to make good money. Then YOU take the challenge to make her feel sexier, hotter, and more awesome than thousands of men combined. Listen to her and find out how to do it. She may need some help with the bills and extra diva stuff if you want her to ditch this income.
She won't want to ditch feeling and being beautiful. You should really talk to her about options and just be 100% honest about how you feel. It may scare her away for a bit, but time away makes you really think about things, and change is scary for her. Many men make promises, (and women of course,) but not many fulfill what is actually necessary to fully keep that promise. And she knows that. If she's independent she may not want to be a burden or feel like one. It gets old quick. Should anything happen in the future and you help her with a transition - don't complain or the deal is off. Just FYI. It's a scary thing to try to leave for love and find yourself with $2 in your hand, nothing in the bank. Then when her supporter/helper complains to her, an independent person, she'll go back to being independent immediately. I did it and he didn't help one bit. I sold all my shit for him because I wanted to be faithful. Then he complained and said, "I thought you were successful" (he didn't know I'd stopped or even did it lol). Then I went back to the profession. No civvie nan wants a hooker, but he will take that over a broke chick. No lie lol. I get more respect as a hooker than I ever did when I had nothing. That's the truth - even from family and friends. So... What are you going to do?-- Modified on 9/10/2014 11:47:33 AM
I suspect many who read this post will not believe it. Will think it yet another troll’s attempt to incite yet another insane TER thread. And it probably will incite an insane thread, but my motive for posting this story is more self-serving:
Something happened to me that left me confused and alienated. I am sure it has happened to others, but I have spent several months online looking for someone else, anyone else, who has fallen down this rabbit hole.
So, at risk of inviting TER’s reliable court jesters to form a chorus of mockery, I am convinced, if there is anyone in the world – physical or virtual - that has heard this story before, or perhaps even lived it, it is here in this forum.
After all, this online community’s very foundation is built upon the search, celebration and conquest of the Greatest American Escort. And this is a story about my life with her. And every word is true.
I’m going to try to keep it short, but that won’t be easy. By way of introduction: I am not a hobbyist. My personal experience with hookers was limited to a few blowjobs I got from streetwalkers when I was a teenager. That is, until I discovered my fiancée was one.
She had joined the trade 18 months into our courtship. High end, low volume. A full-service provider, no menu item refused, most of them enthusiastically embraced and performed. But she was six months into it before I found any of this out.
And that’s how I became am an unwitting, involuntary member of the TER community. I came here many months ago to search for clues about what happened to me, piece together the missing details of my recent past. You see, the woman I lived with had two separate identities.
Unfortunately, I was madly in love with the one she terminated.
We had known each other casually for four years and had been inseparably together for two. We shared an intense attraction and uncanny compatibility that led us both to enter into the first monogamous relationship either of us had ever willingly embraced and enjoyed.
Needless to say, the sex was amazing. Night after night, what some of you folks would call the FOTC. In fact, some of you have called her exactly that. And ATF. And lots of other glowing terms and pet names.
I have read her reviews. To paraphrase Sally Field’s Oscar’s acceptance speech: You like her. You really, really like her!
I have read her reviews and ads and comments here on TER and any and everywhere else I could find them. It has been a punishing but necessary task. Because it was the only way for me to find out the truth of my own life, what had been going on for the last half-year we were together.
Because she refused to tell me.
She had launched her new career, established a visible presence online and built a loyal and sustainable clientele – first in the city where we lived and then out on the road – to my complete ignorance.
Were there signs all along? In retrospect, of course. Looking back, obviously I feel stupid, gullible and naïve. But I loved her fearlessly. And trusted her unconditionally. But, still, I understand the incredulity: How does one wake up every morning with a hooker in his bed and not know it?
Well, she had several other civilian jobs that involved lots of meetings, lots of travel. She was involved in a bunch of clubs and organizations, engaged in the community. We were insanely close but never cramped each other’s freedom and interests, we led rich and rewarding lives in and outside the bubble of our intimacy.
She was gone most of the day attending to her many jobs and commitments. I worked nights. We lived in a bustling downtown filled with businessman, conventioneers….and nice hotels. It was almost too easy for her.
The story of how I found out is long and not particularly germane here; it was a slow, steady accumulation of confusing events, unexplained disappearances and furtive behavior. Which led me to walk in the door from work one night, look into her face and ask: “What is going on?”
And for the first time in six months, she told me the truth.
My head exploded and my heart drained. But I remained calm. I loved her madly. And she loved me. She had proven herself a great actress and a master of hidden emotions, but that much was never in doubt to me; it was impossible for her to mask.
And I forgave her. And then came the hard part. Lots of talking. Lots and lots of talking.
Any TER veteran can probably guess what my first question was.
The answer was no. She wasn’t going to give it up. She loved the variety and the excitement, was determined to explore her sexuality and push her boundaries. All the attention and adoration from clients was an aphrodisiac. It was addicting.
And she was making a shitload of money. End of discussion.
And so, over days that turned into weeks that turned into months, we discussed ways to remain in each others’ lives; obviously the notions of monogamy and marriage had vanished, so we fumbled our way through the concepts of open relationships, polyamory, committed non-monogamy and all the other variations of consensual infidelity.
For months, I put everything I had into saving some small piece of my heaven. I read all the discussions – here and elsewhere – debating the pros and cons of loving a hooker. But those stories are about men who fall in love with their providers. In my case, love was the pre-existing condition. Hooking was the new twist.
In the course of my research, one thing became obviously apparent. She was made for the job. She is equipped with precisely the characteristics that define the most successful women in the industry, the best known, the best paid, the most desired:
She is the smartest person in the room. Politically and culturally informed. Artistically gifted. Magnetic social skills, an engaging conversationalist, an earnest listener. She is well educated, world-traveled, well-read, intellectually curious – open to any and all ideas, opinions and experiences that might further inform her worldview.
She’s funny as hell. And she has a body that could make Jesus weep, a face brighter than the sun and a sex drive and desire to please that leaves a man reduced to a smoldering inferno once she has unloosed her passion.
This next part should sound familiar to most of you: The more time I spent with her, the better I felt about myself, my own intellect and talents. She was attentive, giving and affectionate. She made me feel smart, funny and sexy. She made me feel like a powerful lover. She made me feel like nothing and no one else mattered, as if the time she spent with me was the best part of her day, her life.
You want to talk about living the ultimate GFE? It was my life
t she grew restless and hid it from me. She felt too young to tie down, too young to give up all the adventure and experience she dreamed of.
And she wanted to have a lot of sex. With a lot of people. And so that’s what she began to do.
But she was afraid to ever tell me. Though she knew me to be as tolerant, non-judgmental and open to new ideas as herself, she couldn’t bring herself to come clean. Until she did.
But she didn’t. And this is the hard part.
For the weeks and weeks that we hashed out our new circumstances, and during which she laid bare the intimate details of her formerly secret life, I came to eventually realize that not a word of it was true. In the process of coming clean about her secret double life, she created a second, equally fictional narrative.
I will never understand why but, when given the chance to come clean without consequence or retribution, with a chance to mend the breach in our trust, she slipped right back into a lifestyle and practice of dishonest, deferral and deflection. I guess she is what you would call a pathological liar.
So came my second act of discovery. We were two months into this and I still knew nothing about her life, where she was, what she did. She quit all her other jobs and started touring. We communicated daily by text, email and phone. When she would return, we would get down to the rebuilding, re-evaluating and redefining of our relationship.
But once again, nothing seemed to make sense. Contradictions and conflicting accounts. Long story short. After lying to me for six months, she spoke the truth for one night and then resumed lying to me for the next few months.
I called her on it. She got pissed, deflected, ranted, raved…..and in the course of 30 minutes, had packed what she needed to survive and left our home. She blocked me from communicating with her. She entered to hobby full time, full term, all in. And that’s where the story sits today.
Oh, I forgot one thing: There was one other thing she told me that was true. Before she left on that final night, she told me something I had never even thought to ask her.
She told me her industry name. Why, I cannot fathom. Maybe so I could go out and find the truth myself.
And so I did. I found out who I had been living with all this time. I found out why she was late for my birthday party. I found out why she winced that one night when I fingered her. I found out why she started taking showers at night instead of in the morning. One night, a major holiday, I was going down on her and, well….I found out why her ass looked turned out and swollen.
Equipped with her name, I was able to recreate these events by combing TER reviews, the details, the locations and the dates, I was ale to reconstruct my recent past; transform it from a fog of unknowing confusion into a precise timeline of her activities, and therefore explained so many memories that began to wash over me about various odd or unusual behaviors, strained conversations and, naturally, the distance that grew between our own intimacy.
She had a three-hour session on my birthday. Reading about it, I came across the terms DFK, BBBJ, CIM, DATY, GREEK and many others for the first time. BBBJ. CIM. My fiancée. The love of my life.
I found a reviewer who boasted of a two-hour non-stop ass-fucking on that national holiday.
Et cetera. Do you need to know more?
I did. And I learned it all, learned more than I will ever get out of my head.
As bad as it made me feel, the information I found on TER went a long way to saving me, brining me back from the edge. Though the clinical details of her encounters with the hobbyists here have been stomach-churning, mind-numbing and soul-crushing. (yes, I paid for VIP) at least I finally know what happened.
Time has passed and I have finally regained my balance. For a long time, I shut down, missed work, cried myself to sleep and lost interest in anything and everything. I got addicted to TER. I obsessed. I pictured every defiling that hobbyists gleefully put upon my sweet, sweet, beautiful girl.
It was a time of endless and unendurable insanity.
And times marches on.
I dropped my VIP membership and started reading Huffington Post instead of escort reviews. But I did keep looking for another story like mine out there in the world. I know there are others like me. They just haven’t posted yet.
They are the only ones who will ever know what it’s like to live in my movie.
They are like me, the ones who flew over the cuckold’s nest.
If you know of one, tell them about this post. And tell them they’re not the only ones
Now I don't feel like rewriting it all over again but I can recreate some of what I wrote. But thx for part two. Hope you can recover from this, start seeing some gorgeous girls yourself. Escort world is gonna be a blast if you know how to pick the ones you can enjoy.
After doing this for a few months report back how you feel. Some of us prefer the hobby over having a civvie mistress because it has less drama.
As for your ex blocking you, I only block someone if I have decided that either she or I am causing the other or each other or just me a ton of harm. If the relationship is destructive and we aren't good for each other then I get rid of my number and also her number so that neither of us can contact each other even if we wanted to.
There's a girl I have changed my numbers on. I got rid of her info too. She can no longer contact me even if she wanted to. I can't contact her even if I wanted because I had made my decision when my mind was sober and clear that she is too destructive for me and I can't be happy with a girl like her. I didn't want her to chase me down or locate me either. It was something only time and zero communication from each other could heal. This is the only time I block or change numbers on someone was close with. But others could have different reasons
First, sorry this happened to you. Sexual betrayal when both parties have expressly committed to fidelity is quite painful to the betrayed partner.
But Part 2 has me confused. You said in Part 1 that when you confronted her that she confessed to hooking (high end), that she liked both the extra sex and the money and did not intend to stop. I did not get anywhere in your description of your talks that she ever said she was giving up the escort business. So what was the 2nd betrayal or lie? That she moved from part time hooking to full time? I don't quite get why full-time is much worse than part-time. It sounded like "part-time" was pretty often.
A broken heart can heal, in time. You don't fully get over it. Like was said by the retired baseball player in "The Upside of Anger" movie: "It heals. It just heals funny. You know, you more or less walk... with a limp."
Dude, grow some balls. You should have walked if, couldn't handle yet
Thanks for the tip there, big fella! I'll keep that in mind next time.
This forum is hilarious. I gotta admit, all day as people challenged my veracity, I thought to myself: Who in God's name would invest the time to prank or troll like that? Especially since there's no take away, prize or reveal.
Everyone's anonymous! What's the reward? And then guys like you start crawling out of the woodwork as the day goes on, mightily determined to flex, fire some snot rockets and shake your dick at somebody.
Well, let's see how this pussy did compared to you, AF. Now, I don't know your customary provider rates and durations, but I'm gonna go ahead and guess it's in the $200-$250/hr range? But then, you probably ask for half hour sessions a lot.
Now, hold that thought.
Now, once you get to two hours with my ex-GF, you're well over $1000 per hour. So, OK, gimme a sec to do some calculations........
* crickets *
OK, sorry for the wait. Now, I forgot to ask how long you've been in the hobby, but I'll just fudge it and give you five years. And I was with the GF for 2 solid before we tumbled. So, here's how we faer against each other, you, the manly man and me, the weak, pussy man.
It appears that you have paid $$26,000 for 160 hours of the sweet-smellin' BP poontanie. OK, let me add mine up here.....
OK, here we go: It looks like I got $6.2 million worth of free sweet love makin' from one of the most elite escorts in the country.
Save your nickels, hubby. Maybe some day a couple years from now you'll get to find out what this pussy already knows.
Dang, all that math. Made me forget -- what was it we were talking about?
-- Modified on 9/10/2014 7:42:53 PM
Don’t try to analyze me, you will never figure out.
1) I pay hell of lot more than your range
2) I have been in the hobby lot longer than your guess
3) Never have had 30 minute session in all my hobby life
4) Been with some of the hottest women in the hobby may be including your ex-Gf, who knows
My point is, only pussy whipped men allow anyone control their lives and loose their shit when something happens. Me, lots of fish in the sea go find next one. Have had many GF’s, and two wives, when I walked or they walked, I never turned backed and looked. Just moved on with my life my merry on way.
See, I am free spirit that cannot be controlled by anyone, I do my thing all the time.
Now back into the corner and wheel.
I guess the piece I don't get is this, If she is/was the love of your life why not accept her as she is? One of my long time favorites is married - she calls him and checks in and out to assure him she is safe. It's not the usual agency escort check in. It's a SO talking to her SO. He is not living on her cash either so that's not it.
But she grew restless and hid it from me. She felt too young to tie down, too young to give up all the adventure and experience she dreamed of.
And she wanted to have a lot of sex. With a lot of people. And so that’s what she began to do.
But she was afraid to ever tell me. Though she knew me to be as tolerant, non-judgmental and open to new ideas as herself, she couldn’t bring herself to come clean. Until she did.
But she didn’t. And this is the hard part.
For the weeks and weeks that we hashed out our new circumstances, and during which she laid bare the intimate details of her formerly secret life, I came to eventually realize that not a word of it was true. In the process of coming clean about her secret double life, she created a second, equally fictional narrative.
I will never understand why but, when given the chance to come clean without consequence or retribution, with a chance to mend the breach in our trust, she slipped right back into a lifestyle and practice of dishonest, deferral and deflection. I guess she is what you would call a pathological liar.
So came my second act of discovery. We were two months into this and I still knew nothing about her life, where she was, what she did. She quit all her other jobs and started touring. We communicated daily by text, email and phone. When she would return, we would get down to the rebuilding, re-evaluating and redefining of our relationship.
But once again, nothing seemed to make sense. Contradictions and conflicting accounts. Long story short. After lying to me for six months, she spoke the truth for one night and then resumed lying to me for the next few months.
I called her on it. She got pissed, deflected, ranted, raved…..and in the course of 30 minutes, had packed what she needed to survive and left our home. She blocked me from communicating with her. She entered to hobby full time, full term, all in. And that’s where the story sits today.
Oh, I forgot one thing: There was one other thing she told me that was true. Before she left on that final night, she told me something I had never even thought to ask her.
She told me her industry name. Why, I cannot fathom. Maybe so I could go out and find the truth myself.
And so I did. I found out who I had been living with all this time. I found out why she was late for my birthday party. I found out why she winced that one night when I fingered her. I found out why she started taking showers at night instead of in the morning. One night, a major holiday, I was going down on her and, well….I found out why her ass looked turned out and swollen.
Equipped with her name, I was able to recreate these events by combing TER reviews, the details, the locations and the dates, I was ale to reconstruct my recent past; transform it from a fog of unknowing confusion into a precise timeline of her activities, and therefore explained so many memories that began to wash over me about various odd or unusual behaviors, strained conversations and, naturally, the distance that grew between our own intimacy.
She had a three-hour session on my birthday. Reading about it, I came across the terms DFK, BBBJ, CIM, DATY, GREEK and many others for the first time. BBBJ. CIM. My fiancée. The love of my life.
I found a reviewer who boasted of a two-hour non-stop ass-fucking on that national holiday.
Et cetera. Do you need to know more?
I did. And I learned it all, learned more than I will ever get out of my head.
As bad as it made me feel, the information I found on TER went a long way to saving me, brining me back from the edge. Though the clinical details of her encounters with the hobbyists here have been stomach-churning, mind-numbing and soul-crushing. (yes, I paid for VIP) at least I finally know what happened.
Time has passed and I have finally regained my balance. For a long time, I shut down, missed work, cried myself to sleep and lost interest in anything and everything. I got addicted to TER. I obsessed. I pictured every defiling that hobbyists gleefully put upon my sweet, sweet, beautiful girl.
It was a time of endless and unendurable insanity.
And times marches on.
I dropped my VIP membership and started reading Huffington Post instead of escort reviews. But I did keep looking for another story like mine out there in the world. I know there are others like me. They just haven’t posted yet.
They are the only ones who will ever know what it’s like to live in my movie.
They are like me, the ones who flew over the cuckold’s nest.
If you know of one, tell them about this post. And tell them they’re not the only ones.
Let me start with this: My story was long. Real long. Look how many people read Pt. 1 and then the number who read Pt.2. Less than half. So please understand, there are thousands of details not written here because I realized the more I wrote, the less you would read.
But I'll give you a direct answer also:
Your theory strains when, during those long-distance calls she says she's in Atlanta but is in California. Or that she'll be home Sunday and you don't hear from her until Tuesday. Or that she is spending the night with a client but has, in fact, taken another civilian lover. Or that we were going to dine privately with a celebrity chef because of his association with one of her day jobs but there is no association, he's a client, and you (meaning me) sat there like a moron all night trying to make conversation about the association with the day job and chef seemed like a clumsy, antsy guy and well - that's because she forgot to inform him of the cover story. And I getting dizzy, getting dizzy,
Should I go on?
All of these events came long after the first discovery and confession. While were trying to find what kind of relationship would work for us. I was amenable to anything that included her in my life.
Eventually she told me that our talks about "us" gave her headaches and she didn't want any expectations put on her. So we stopped trying to define our relationship. She came home when she wanted and didn't when she didn't. Without prior notice, because that created expectations in case she wanted to change her mind.
Are you familiar with narcissism?
And finally, she just stopped coming home.
Like I said, packed up a small shoulder bag after a conversation she didn't like and split. She never came back for any of her stuff. I had to go about cleaning and clearing for weeks. Among other things, I found three dildos and about 20 expired key cards to rooms at the finest hotels in our city and others.
Mementos to remember her by.
Thanks for the clarification. I'm still not sure whether she was full time hooking the whole time she was with you or if her advance from part-time to full time occurred during your relationship. But it hardly matters. She constructed a second false identity to try to pacify you instead of being truthful.
From my theoretical perspective, her taking the other civilian lover would have hurt more than the clients.
Betrayed spouses say the worse hurt comes from the deception and dishonesty rather than the extra sex. Most of them wouldn't tolerate either, but I understand the point.
OK. I get it. Upon reflection I realize this story is not about escorts, call girls, hobbyists, johns or whatever. It is about betrayal & is quite similar to a story I recall hearing of an attorney who ruthlessly fucked her way to partner ditching her lover along the way. In a strange way many escorts will get it too, having themselves been left with kids to support by some creep.
Reviewers, first thank you for taking the time to review your experiences with ladies. I'm sure we all appreciate it. Even LE appreciates it.
Is it possible that the details not include 100% irrelevant facts that compromise the lies, etc we've told to people who know us by our legal names in order to see you and protect your privacy?
For example, saying "I saw her on the 4th of July" knowing that the year of the review is there and the review can only be within 90 days of meeting? Is it really necessary to tip suspicious family members off that the reason Brenda was in Oklahoma over the holiday was to screw you when they couldn't figure out why Brenda was there? Or worse, tip your family or friends who've stumbled across your username off as to why you were in Oklahoma on that exact date?
I think way too much. Many call me paranoid - I call it meticulously discrete. It eats up a lot of my time, but I never want the puzzle pieces to match so I thought I'd chime in. Its not just about me, its about the community as a whole. Lets all stay safe. Love yas!
You can be paranoid and still be correct. In this case you are absolutely correct - I once read a review that gave exact directions to the escort's door. I mean it had the street, the designated parking space, the floor & door. That is nuts. I also think reviewers could avoid breed and names of pets. As a review reader I do not need to know that the escorts door is second floor second door on the left with the yellow flowers - you can tell me that as you talk me in. We all need to work together to keep everyone safe. Maybe it is the old GI in me but we all need to look out for each other's safety.
So you got a lot of free OTC time with a high end hooker and your complaint is? Shit you hit a mini lotto....sort of....move on
She was his fiance, I think I can understand the shock.
I can see how she has turned him into a hobbyist though, considering he's hanging out on this board now.
Sorry, cut myself off.
My point is: First of all, I appreciate the kind and supportive words, I really do. I didn't write this to fish for sympathy but it is a boost to read that someone, anyone, is acknowledging my struggle. (Needless to say -- I think! -- is that I have not shared this story with many people where I live. In fact, and here is my great hypocrisy and karmic retribution: after she left town in a flash with no trace or goodbyes, I was forced to concoct my own fictional universe to explain her absence; I have learned that the ability to lie without shame is easier than so many virtues.)
Anyway, the point I was making above that got cut off - and which I have probably said too many times here already and will say here for the last time: This would all be a lot more coherent and comprehensive if Pt 2 had been posted. It tells the rest of the story.
In the end, everyone is alive, everyone is moving forward, life goes on, time wounds all heels.
Or something like that.
I'm REALLY tired. Night, folks. Thanks for your kindnesses and just for reading the story. Fact is, it was a hellaciously therapeutic exercise and maybe the morning sky will shine a little brighter tomorrow. Will see what I can do about getting the rest of the story posted. PeaceOut.
The fantasy that you once had is gone forever, I would say "cut your losses" and try to get on with your life. I will hurt for a while, but nowhere near as much as the living hell of "unrequited love" that you have been living. Assuming for the moment that we take your OP at face value.
There is a huge difference between dating a hooker with your eyes open, there is never that feeling of betrayal because they never was anything to betray. Your position is more like a guy who finds out his SO not only is cheating on him, but that she flat out refuses to stop cheating. I doubt anyone could move past that kind of betrayal, and keep both the relationship and his nut sack at the same time.
What you describe is tough, all I can say is don't let it scar you for life. If you've been here as long as you claim, I am sure you see just how many of the guys here are downright miserable, don't become one of them. Pick yourself up, dust yourself off. Fuck everything that moves for a while if it helps you, and put this whole thing in your rearview mirror. Whatever you do, DO NOT continue to torture yourself, you might think that it's therapeutic, but in fact all it does is slow the healing process. You need to look forward and not dwell in the past, torturing yourself with "what might have been"
and you have given some great advice in your post.
The problem is that I just don't trust OP's post... Sounds like blue's new avatar...
"Assuming we can take the OP at face value"
Maybe I should have added, "and that would be a HUGE assumption"
but even if the OP is completely full of shit, at least you agree that the advice is good, and I am sure that even if the OP didn't live this, someone out there has. There are a lot of hookers out there with BFs that have no idea that they are involved with a hooker. For some guys it's the betrayal they can't deal with, for others it's the simple fact that their GF is fucking and sucking other guys, and for most I assume it's BOTH. lol
Personally, I'd dump the bitch, and I would never look back, but that's just me, I can't stand a liar.
Umm what the fuck? I have no words. He talks about her in the past tense. And 'Part Fucking One"? Have the authorities been notified? This guy is about to explode.
Lemme get this straight....
1) You are living happily ever after with an amazing woman
2) you are everything she could wish for in a man
3) she is everything you could wish for in a woman
4) all of a sudden out of nowhere she starts turning tricks.
Sorry but either you ain't that good of a BF or she was sucking dick for $ long before two of you met.
If sexual exploration and excitement was what she needed - there is simple solution. It's calle SWING. Hooking is not an answer to sexual curiosity. 99.99 % of johns are as vanilla as it only gets and hobby sexual encounters are plain, rehearsed and unimaginative.
If any of your penthouse letter even remotely somehow related to real situation - she was a hooker long before you have become "monogamous" and not for the reason you mention.
We did the swing thing. Lots of other bandaid solutions to hold us together. It's explained in Pt2 which, for reasons I do not know, has not been posted. While I've been cruising this site for months, have only posted once before on a topic completely unrelated to this, and I may have violated a guideline? But I doubt it; it's just the continuation of the story.
And to Jaw Drop above: I speak of her in the past because we're not together anymore. Not because....I mean, seriously?
it's not a choice I was born this way... I take offense!
I'm sorry that this happened to you. I won't insult you by saying I understand how you feel. Not having lived through such a thing, I cannot even imagine.
So first off, because there is an element that is indeed hard to believe, we will agree that you are telling the truth insomuch as you are being honest. Personally, I question the rapid turnaround your fiancée made, but have no doubt that you are reporting it as how you experienced it.
You agreed to a monogamous relationship, and often that implies saying little or nothing about past encounters. So you must start by accepting that to some extent both of you were putting behind you SOME untold sexual history. Even if it was only the streetwalkers of your teenage years, and some fantasies, YOU did not share all. Neither did she. And that's normal, expected, just part of the deal. But she had a past she didn't detail for you.
Whether her past involved prostitution or not, she may have had adventures that left her with a feeling of power. You talked to her about the sexual excitement and the money, but at least in the OP you said nothing about the power a provider has over her life and over her clients. IMO, that shouldn't be dismissed as a small thing. And from how you describe your beloved, I wouldn't be surprised to find out that power over others would be addictive to her.
So when she entered the trade, it may well have been a progression of her ongoing grappling for power situations more than anything to do with either the sex or the money.
Also, the excitement of the risk(s) she takes might be something she needs in her life.
If you're asking how could it happen, that's my best guess. If you're asking where do YOU go from here, I don't know. If something this traumatic happened to me, I would either change my life entirely, move away, change livelihoods, maybe even assume a new identity, OR do absolutely nothing--try to carry on without letting this event affect me in any way.
Every word is true. I'm a capable writer with a fine vocabulary, but my talents for fiction are wanting.
But you are absolutely correct about the power issue. In the final, fading dregs of our struggle, she made it clear that her shorn responsibilities, new identity and newfound independence were like a cocktail of liquid oxygen and Red Bull. She calls her own shots now. Answers to no one. Depends on no one. Expects nothing and certainly disavows expectations upon her.
Her clients are in her thrall, that is clear from the reviews. I don't mean that to sound like she has cast a hoodoo spell of the dark arts, but that she does for them what she did do to me. She is the prototype provider about whom so many newbies proclaim their intense connection, their passionate embraces, their singular and ethereal harmonic convergences that convince them that something more than a business transaction has passed between them.
I believe the term here on TER is: "rocks their world."
Sorry. Obviously I've spent too much time here.
Anyway, in a rara moment of detente and communication after our final demise, I said to her: You've pulled it off. The dream. Men pay you thousands of dollars to eat you out and put their every fiber and ego into getting you off.
She did not disagree.
But again, as I noted in a response above, I was not able to post the entire story intact because it was too long. So I split it in half and posted both. In fact, I've tried to post Pt2 three times. I've contacted the board monitors about this, but my point is
Not because I'm a prick, although I am, LOL. Why? Because you've had an amazing experience in every way. Right now you feel a lot of pain but that will pass. Then you'll have the memories of a very wild ride to enjoy for the rest of your life. Not many guys have something like this happen to them. So look at the glass as half full and be grateful.
Nothing new there. People BBFS with the fiance all the time. LOL
Seriously though, I would be very very surprised if I found out my civvie girl was an escort.
2nd shock would come when I realize I need to accept her cuz she's not going to change.
3rd shock would come when she refuses to tell me about her life in the past year or 6 months...
You went from a guy who never heard of the hobby into a guy dating an escort. I can see how there are several levels of shock involved. First is finding out that the hobby exists and it is real. Second, finding out that the girl you're dating has reviews and a record of what really went on. 3rd may be from getting the confirmation that other guys agree how she is in your eyes.
You went through all levels of surprise and shock all at once. Nice.
Hope it works out with her
...that broke the camel's back is he found out that she hired Drunken Asian as a male escort for women. Now could he possibly satisfy her after that?!
She probably ended up blowing some serious chunks then, cuz my minimum blowing chunks rate is 2500 milliliters of vodka or 10000 milliliters of beer. Standard can of beer is like 355mil so that is like 28 cans of beer. 2~3 bottles of vodka. That's a lot even for a heavy drinker. H
Something happened to me that left me confused and alienated. I am sure it has happened to others, but I have spent several months online looking for someone else, anyone else, who has fallen down this rabbit hole.
So, at risk of inviting TER’s reliable court jesters to form a chorus of mockery, I am convinced, if there is anyone in the world – physical or virtual - that has heard this story before, or perhaps even lived it, it is here in this forum.
After all, this online community’s very foundation is built upon the search, celebration and conquest of the Greatest American Escort. And this is a story about my life with her. And every word is true.
I’m going to try to keep it short, but that won’t be easy. By way of introduction: I am not a hobbyist. My personal experience with hookers was limited to a few blowjobs I got from streetwalkers when I was a teenager. That is, until I discovered my fiancée was one.
She had joined the trade 18 months into our courtship. High end, low volume. A full-service provider, no menu item refused, most of them enthusiastically embraced and performed. But she was six months into it before I found any of this out.
And that’s how I became am an unwitting, involuntary member of the TER community. I came here many months ago to search for clues about what happened to me, piece together the missing details of my recent past. You see, the woman I lived with had two separate identities.
Unfortunately, I was madly in love with the one she terminated.
We had known each other casually for four years and had been inseparably together for two. We shared an intense attraction and uncanny compatibility that led us both to enter into the first monogamous relationship either of us had ever willingly embraced and enjoyed.
Needless to say, the sex was amazing. Night after night, what some of you folks would call the FOTC. In fact, some of you have called her exactly that. And ATF. And lots of other glowing terms and pet names.
I have read her reviews. To paraphrase Sally Field’s Oscar’s acceptance speech: You like her. You really, really like her!
I have read her reviews and ads and comments here on TER and any and everywhere else I could find them. It has been a punishing but necessary task. Because it was the only way for me to find out the truth of my own life, what had been going on for the last half-year we were together.
Because she refused to tell me.
She had launched her new career, established a visible presence online and built a loyal and sustainable clientele – first in the city where we lived and then out on the road – to my complete ignorance.
Were there signs all along? In retrospect, of course. Looking back, obviously I feel stupid, gullible and naïve. But I loved her fearlessly. And trusted her unconditionally. But, still, I understand the incredulity: How does one wake up every morning with a hooker in his bed and not know it?
Well, she had several other civilian jobs that involved lots of meetings, lots of travel. She was involved in a bunch of clubs and organizations, engaged in the community. We were insanely close but never cramped each other’s freedom and interests, we led rich and rewarding lives in and outside the bubble of our intimacy.
She was gone most of the day attending to her many jobs and commitments. I worked nights. We lived in a bustling downtown filled with businessman, conventioneers….and nice hotels. It was almost too easy for her.
The story of how I found out is long and not particularly germane here; it was a slow, steady accumulation of confusing events, unexplained disappearances and furtive behavior. Which led me to walk in the door from work one night, look into her face and ask: “What is going on?”
And for the first time in six months, she told me the truth.
My head exploded and my heart drained. But I remained calm. I loved her madly. And she loved me. She had proven herself a great actress and a master of hidden emotions, but that much was never in doubt to me; it was impossible for her to mask.
And I forgave her. And then came the hard part. Lots of talking. Lots and lots of talking.
Any TER veteran can probably guess what my first question was.
The answer was no. She wasn’t going to give it up. She loved the variety and the excitement, was determined to explore her sexuality and push her boundaries. All the attention and adoration from clients was an aphrodisiac. It was addicting.
And she was making a shitload of money. End of discussion.
And so, over days that turned into weeks that turned into months, we discussed ways to remain in each others’ lives; obviously the notions of monogamy and marriage had vanished, so we fumbled our way through the concepts of open relationships, polyamory, committed non-monogamy and all the other variations of consensual infidelity.
For months, I put everything I had into saving some small piece of my heaven. I read all the discussions – here and elsewhere – debating the pros and cons of loving a hooker. But those stories are about men who fall in love with their providers. In my case, love was the pre-existing condition. Hooking was the new twist.
In the course of my research, one thing became obviously apparent. She was made for the job. She is equipped with precisely the characteristics that define the most successful women in the industry, the best known, the best paid, the most desired:
She is the smartest person in the room. Politically and culturally informed. Artistically gifted. Magnetic social skills, an engaging conversationalist, an earnest listener. She is well educated, world-traveled, well-read, intellectually curious – open to any and all ideas, opinions and experiences that might further inform her worldview.
She’s funny as hell. And she has a body that could make Jesus weep, a face brighter than the sun and a sex drive and desire to please that leaves a man reduced to a smoldering inferno once she has unloosed her passion.
This next part should sound familiar to most of you: The more time I spent with her, the better I felt about myself, my own intellect and talents. She was attentive, giving and affectionate. She made me feel smart, funny and sexy. She made me feel like a powerful lover. She made me feel like nothing and no one else mattered, as if the time she spent with me was the best part of her day, her life.
You want to talk about living the ultimate GFE? It was my life.
..primarily because something of a very similar nature happened to me many many years ago, when I was with wife #1.
When TSHTF in that marriage, I was devastated. It took me about six or seven years to rebuild my life afterward.
Assuming you're not just pulling our legs here--I have tremendous sympathy and empathy for you...
Whoa. "Very similar nature"....?
I realize my post(s) are long, but there was sort of a quest wrapped up in all of this, to find someone, anyone, who shares my story.
I have scoured hundreds, maybe thousands of websites established for the rehabilitation of lost souls and lonelyhearts, chat rooms dedicated to infidelity, sociopathy and sex addiction; infinite forums where experts, sexperts and shrinks dispense wisdom, render advice and salve the wounds of the abandoned, the abused and the betrayed.
I have yet to encounter a dance macabre as bloodless and cavalier as my baby conjured for me. But you say you fell victim to something "very similar?"
Maybe I'm being nosey, maybe I'm being inappropriate or maybe I've simply developed a prurient tolerance to depictions of emotional violence and I crave more; but whatever the cause, may I ask:
What happened
Also, you punctuate correctly and don't use run ons. Thank you for that lol.
...of The Erotic Highway board here. Don't waste your time with fake shrinks like Wicked Brut. On another board there's a guy who pretends to be a lawyer. We're all fakes, except "mrfisher." Send him a PM.
and quite frankly, I'm not the least bit interested in conversing with the OP. I'm not sure that his story is true, there is too much rationality to it to make me believe it. Even if it is true, I don't think I'm the one to be his councilor. I'm sure he is astute enough to find a therapist on his own if that's what he wants.
I don't mind helping out fellow hobbyists once in a while (Keep in mind that free advice is worth every nickel you pay for it.), but by his own admission he is not a hobbyist.
He could be mixing up information for discretion. I.e. Greek, etc. Two hours of Greek, pounding away? Ouch!!! I can't even handle that in my vag.
Maybe that's why he likes her lol.
I believe the moral of the story, the details I'm sure are mixed up.
What's her TER ID. I would like to test drive her to see if she measures up to how you describe her.
You are a brilliant writer, and I wish I could paint a picture of someone or some experience like you did. Now my curiosity is piqued.
BTW, I play in 300-400 range, but if she is really all that, I am willing to go up..
Does she do Greek, which is just a lingo, BTW for.....does she take it in the ass...
PM me brotha.....
Was she in Boston. We had an incident up here like that. I suggest you just move on. You will never know why unless she tells you and even then you not going to know if its the truth. Nothing you say or do is going to change what happened.
I agree with everything you said. Romantical, please PM me this gal's contact info!
Oh, and Conan commends you on an excellent writing style, fine punctuation and usage.
I'm not saying I believe it, but it's a good story, true or false.
I badly want to bone this unicorn.
have said reads like a Science Project. One gal told him it reads like a police report at the crime scene..Needless to say she was upset.
Maybe APU can give his first 10-10
You're right, I am sure, that one day I will be telling this story to a group of friends in a barroom, voice and beer glass raised, slapping the table and wiping tears of laughter from my eyes. It's funny, she and I had a pet mantra we would adopt anytime shit happened, flat tire, missed flight, etc:
One day we'll look back on this and it will all seem funny. (from "Rosalita," by Springsteen.
And hopefully that time is not too far away. Believe me, that I was finally able to write all this down in (semi)coherent fashion - without crying - is progress for me. And it's been well over a month, approaching two, since I have cried over her and that's a HUGE step.
(True story: During one torrid, soul-sucking stretch in the middle of the fallout from all this, I cried so hard for so long that I developed conjunctivitis in both eyes and was sent home from work three nights in a row.)
On that note, it's disheartening to see how many people do not believe what I have said. Odd thing is, I think that's more a reflection of the collective state of mind and firmly embedded institutional cynicism of this forum's members than it is on me.
I don't imply that as criticism. Although the first two months of my logging in here was directed toward a singular mission - obsession might be a more accurate term - my activity here for the past two or three weeks has been mostly for entertainment. And entertaining it is to be sure.
But I get the underlying skepticism and necessary wariness that attends every post on this board no matter how light or frivolous it may appear. I do not take personally the chorus of disbelief; I acknowledged its likelihood at the very top of my story.
But I do admit to tinges of frustration, primarily due to the gravity and impact this series of events had on my life. And because, as noted in the original post, there are VERY few people I have been able to discuss this with. But if there's anyone I don't need to point out the importance of discretion in matters such as these, it's a forum full of Hobbyists.
Funny, other than my brother, my brother-in-law and three of my closest friends, the people I have shared this story with are complete strangers. Which makes sense in a perverted way. But, in the same way I can lay bare this account of heartache, degradation, shame and colossal embarrassment - surely the most humiliating experience I will ever know - to an audience of strangers on this forum (Although I feel like I really know you, Drunk Asian!), so to have I, on a few occasions, dispensed with whatever dregs of pride or ego remain in my withered emotional portfolio and gas-bagged my story to random bartenders and barflies.
Never near my home, of course. Never where I believe there is a wisp of a chance of this information finding an audience of my peers, co-workers, associates, etc. Strange how that social dynamic works. But well-documented in psychiatric circles is the therapeutic dynamic and value ascribed to talking; the healing properties of confession.
The power of telling. Of telling the truth, particularly.
Another pet phrase I have used for years when I am trying to convince someone is this: "I will never lie to you unless I have something to gain from it."
A joke, right? Sarcasm. A subspecies of the larger organism called humor. Its most prominent characteristic and identifying feature being its near-resemblence to - but radical subversion of - the truth.
I have nothing to gain by lying to the members of TER.
And I'm pretty sure if I was going to make up a story, I would have done at least three things differently:
1) I probably wouldn't choose radical dishonesty as the central theme of my made up story.
2) I'm pretty sure I would have selected a role for myself something other than a pitiable cuckold.
And....
3) Instead of me ending up betrayed, broken and desperately howling into the digital echo chamber known as the internet, instead I would have calmly walked into an executive suite in a 5-star hotel in Miami, laid my money down and banged the shit out of two smoking-hot bisexual Brazilian hookers.
I'm just sayin'.
-- Modified on 9/10/2014 9:35:46 AM
You write Kevin Spacey's monologues in House of Cards...LOL
..here is something you might want to think about....
My current ATF has slowly been leaking info about her "boy friend" who does not know she is in the business. The last time I saw her she said they were in some kind of tiff one evening and she just spit it out at him ... "I am an escort. I fuck hundreds of guys". His response... "That is SO HOT. Tell me all about it!
Guy and gal fall in love. She is a hooker. He doesn't know. They are very much in love. He founds out. He is upset and heartbroken...
Takeaway from the post- Fancy bottle doesn't turn piss into fine wine..
Piss is the story, bottle is the writing skills.. We have had plenty of guys sell this shit to us.. Like we haven't seen this before...
-- Modified on 9/10/2014 9:33:56 AM
Yes, to answer your question.. I highly doubt one has to pay to screw someone in their imagination...LMAO
He would have shtupped her, the way her clients shtupped her. He is having subscribers remorse do to his lack of intercourse.
an typical case of, he does she don't.
This is nothing but a story about two people who were together, and then discovered that they did not truly share the same needs and expectations from life. They were not truly compatible, and separated for that reason. Something was missing in your relationship, whether for you or for her, or both.
Forget escorting; it is not the cause. Forget cheating spouses; they are not the cause. They are merely props to assuage egos. The only failure that matters in a relationship is in the heart and soul... the physicality is simply an expression of this. It is not what entered the relationship, it is what was never there.
Again, everyone has broken up with one they cared for before.
I have to take the OP at his word. There's nothing in his story that sounds false, and so it should be assumed that it's true.
So, with that, I'm amazed and frankly disgusted by some of the replies. "Show us pictures". "What's her number?"
Christ, why not just put some lit cigarettes to the guy's skin
I agree, bunch of animals.
So, with that, I'm amazed and frankly disgusted by some of the replies. "Show us pictures". "What's her number?"
Christ, why not just put some lit cigarettes to the guy's skin?
The Gunning Fog index is 9.217
The number of major punctuation marks, eg. [.], was 101
The number of words was 1189
The number of 3+ syllable words, highlighted in blue, was 134
You can edit the numbers above and recalculate
I am ready to hit the ATM. I think I will go ahead and withdraw cash, so there is no time wasting once I get the PM with contact details...
from a dude banging her in the ass... Love me some swollen ass.. I wonder if he DATOed her... LMAO
This would, undoubtedly be, the worst place to get advice as you have seen by some of the replies. If you want to sort this out and get something close to closure if that is what you're looking for, I suggest seeing a professional
It happened to them. And they would judge him and her. Sorry I never tell a professional what I do for a living - therefore, I don't see them. Totally biased in most cases.
Sorry to psychologists here. Obviously you get it, but how do you know who gets this industry without telling them and getting thrown into an asylum
Stop being so pathetic. Be a man.
You need a good kick in the ass to remind you that you are acting like a nancy.
And coming on here with this sob story? I'm surprised they haven't torn you up worse.
Frankly. You deserve it.
It's for your own good.
What's the matter with you? Think this will make you feel better?
Fuck her. Fuck this board. Move on with you life a smarter, more experienced person.
Your behavior is borderline stalker BTW..
If your story is true. (I believe it)
She will eventually try to contact you again..
When she does... If you get back with her.. I will track you down, and kick your ass myself.
I recently dated a girl who turned out to be a sugar baby type escort.
She was cool as shit at first.. Then she fucking bugged out. (Over some sugar daddy that dumped her)
She wouldn't leave my house for 5 days. She got really fucked up on weird pills.. Drugged me. And crashed her car after leaving. They probably won't renew my lease because of her. She still randomly pops into my life with some fucking weird drama now, and then.
You got off easy. Trust me.
Now put your big boy pants on, get off TER. Then go find a nice civie girl to have babies with
... that your fiancee is, as you put it, a pathological liar.
I don't care how great a woman is in bed, how beautiful she is, etc. I would never be able to have a close relationship with someone who is likely a pathological liar.
And all those lies show a total disregard for you and your feelings.
A provider I know well has an SO relationship with a fellow who knows all about what she does for a living, and supports her. I've met this fellow on several occasions, and it's clear to me they love each other very much. I think total honesty about being in the hobby is the only way this kind of relationship can work.
BTW, I think your two initial posts are some of the best writing I've seen anywhere on TER. I appreciate the time and thought and effort that you put into sharing your story with us. Thank you, and good luck to you.
So say the Buddhists and Farm Boy aka Dread Pirate Roberts.
I'm sorry you're going through this but with the help of a good professional I'm sure you can right the ship and sail on. The battle scars will make you stronger.
For her sake, I hope that's where the similarities end.
Something happened to me that left me confused and alienated. I am sure it has happened to others, but I have spent several months online looking for someone else, anyone else, who has fallen down this rabbit hole.
So, at risk of inviting TER’s reliable court jesters to form a chorus of mockery, I am convinced, if there is anyone in the world – physical or virtual - that has heard this story before, or perhaps even lived it, it is here in this forum.
After all, this online community’s very foundation is built upon the search, celebration and conquest of the Greatest American Escort. And this is a story about my life with her. And every word is true.
I’m going to try to keep it short, but that won’t be easy. By way of introduction: I am not a hobbyist. My personal experience with hookers was limited to a few blowjobs I got from streetwalkers when I was a teenager. That is, until I discovered my fiancée was one.
She had joined the trade 18 months into our courtship. High end, low volume. A full-service provider, no menu item refused, most of them enthusiastically embraced and performed. But she was six months into it before I found any of this out.
And that’s how I became am an unwitting, involuntary member of the TER community. I came here many months ago to search for clues about what happened to me, piece together the missing details of my recent past. You see, the woman I lived with had two separate identities.
Unfortunately, I was madly in love with the one she terminated.
We had known each other casually for four years and had been inseparably together for two. We shared an intense attraction and uncanny compatibility that led us both to enter into the first monogamous relationship either of us had ever willingly embraced and enjoyed.
Needless to say, the sex was amazing. Night after night, what some of you folks would call the FOTC. In fact, some of you have called her exactly that. And ATF. And lots of other glowing terms and pet names.
I have read her reviews. To paraphrase Sally Field’s Oscar’s acceptance speech: You like her. You really, really like her!
I have read her reviews and ads and comments here on TER and any and everywhere else I could find them. It has been a punishing but necessary task. Because it was the only way for me to find out the truth of my own life, what had been going on for the last half-year we were together.
Because she refused to tell me.
She had launched her new career, established a visible presence online and built a loyal and sustainable clientele – first in the city where we lived and then out on the road – to my complete ignorance.
Were there signs all along? In retrospect, of course. Looking back, obviously I feel stupid, gullible and naïve. But I loved her fearlessly. And trusted her unconditionally. But, still, I understand the incredulity: How does one wake up every morning with a hooker in his bed and not know it?
Well, she had several other civilian jobs that involved lots of meetings, lots of travel. She was involved in a bunch of clubs and organizations, engaged in the community. We were insanely close but never cramped each other’s freedom and interests, we led rich and rewarding lives in and outside the bubble of our intimacy.
She was gone most of the day attending to her many jobs and commitments. I worked nights. We lived in a bustling downtown filled with businessman, conventioneers….and nice hotels. It was almost too easy for her.
The story of how I found out is long and not particularly germane here; it was a slow, steady accumulation of confusing events, unexplained disappearances and furtive behavior. Which led me to walk in the door from work one night, look into her face and ask: “What is going on?”
And for the first time in six months, she told me the truth.
My head exploded and my heart drained. But I remained calm. I loved her madly. And she loved me. She had proven herself a great actress and a master of hidden emotions, but that much was never in doubt to me; it was impossible for her to mask.
And I forgave her. And then came the hard part. Lots of talking. Lots and lots of talking.
Any TER veteran can probably guess what my first question was.
The answer was no. She wasn’t going to give it up. She loved the variety and the excitement, was determined to explore her sexuality and push her boundaries. All the attention and adoration from clients was an aphrodisiac. It was addicting.
And she was making a shitload of money. End of discussion.
And so, over days that turned into weeks that turned into months, we discussed ways to remain in each others’ lives; obviously the notions of monogamy and marriage had vanished, so we fumbled our way through the concepts of open relationships, polyamory, committed non-monogamy and all the other variations of consensual infidelity.
For months, I put everything I had into saving some small piece of my heaven. I read all the discussions – here and elsewhere – debating the pros and cons of loving a hooker. But those stories are about men who fall in love with their providers. In my case, love was the pre-existing condition. Hooking was the new twist.
In the course of my research, one thing became obviously apparent. She was made for the job. She is equipped with precisely the characteristics that define the most successful women in the industry, the best known, the best paid, the most desired:
She is the smartest person in the room. Politically and culturally informed. Artistically gifted. Magnetic social skills, an engaging conversationalist, an earnest listener. She is well educated, world-traveled, well-read, intellectually curious – open to any and all ideas, opinions and experiences that might further inform her worldview.
She’s funny as hell. And she has a body that could make Jesus weep, a face brighter than the sun and a sex drive and desire to please that leaves a man reduced to a smoldering inferno once she has unloosed her passion.
This next part should sound familiar to most of you: The more time I spent with her, the better I felt about myself, my own intellect and talents. She was attentive, giving and affectionate. She made me feel smart, funny and sexy. She made me feel like a powerful lover. She made me feel like nothing and no one else mattered, as if the time she spent with me was the best part of her day, her life.
You want to talk about living the ultimate GFE? It was my life.
I have to say, what guys like me do behind the backs of our SO's isn't too far off of what your gal did to you.
1. She lied. We lie.
2. She had all sorts of sex with Strangers. So do we
3. She enjoyed it & didn't want to stop. Ditto.
4. She got paid tons of cash. We pay tons of cash.
5. If the SO finds out, its over. Again, ditto.
The main difference is that when you broke up you didn't have to pay alimony or child support like a lot of us would have to do after a messy divorce.
Sounds like you got off easy to me.
As a guy who was cheated on and dumped by an ex gf years ago whom I thought was the love of my life and which devastated me emotionally for over a year. Trust me, despite the spectacular betrayal you feel, (I can't deny that it probably feels like a nuke just hit your heart), it will get better. As another poster has said, go out, find a cute civvie gal with a boring job with no travel or "dead time" where her wherabouts are uncertain and marry her and have a pack of kids. When she gets fat, ugly and demanding, go look up your ex's girlfriends here on TER and join the hobby from the normal side of it. You'll feel much better then
In my years as a hobbyist I've found much to both revel in as well as despair with this life style. This "different perspective" offered food for thought that had not before been chewed on.
How can we(men) singularly compete?
"All the attention and adoration from clients was an aphrodisiac. It was addicting. And she was making a shitload of money."
(Romantical)
I've heard it said similarly from the mouth of a very successful career provider; but it summed up the same. Be it the roar of the crowd for a celebrity or simply its quiet yet demonstrative affirmation for a ‘provider’ it IS a very powerful "addictive" narcotic. Is it any wonder why patriarchal and puritanical precepts of monogamy as well as home and hearth are brow-beaten into young girls(and boys)?
If all of this you write is true I feel for the pain, deception, disillusionment, and loss of innocence you have suffered.
"The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation"
(Henry David Thoreau)
Something happened to me that left me confused and alienated. I am sure it has happened to others, but I have spent several months online looking for someone else, anyone else, who has fallen down this rabbit hole.
So, at risk of inviting TER’s reliable court jesters to form a chorus of mockery, I am convinced, if there is anyone in the world – physical or virtual - that has heard this story before, or perhaps even lived it, it is here in this forum.
After all, this online community’s very foundation is built upon the search, celebration and conquest of the Greatest American Escort. And this is a story about my life with her. And every word is true.
I’m going to try to keep it short, but that won’t be easy. By way of introduction: I am not a hobbyist. My personal experience with hookers was limited to a few blowjobs I got from streetwalkers when I was a teenager. That is, until I discovered my fiancée was one.
She had joined the trade 18 months into our courtship. High end, low volume. A full-service provider, no menu item refused, most of them enthusiastically embraced and performed. But she was six months into it before I found any of this out.
And that’s how I became am an unwitting, involuntary member of the TER community. I came here many months ago to search for clues about what happened to me, piece together the missing details of my recent past. You see, the woman I lived with had two separate identities.
Unfortunately, I was madly in love with the one she terminated.
We had known each other casually for four years and had been inseparably together for two. We shared an intense attraction and uncanny compatibility that led us both to enter into the first monogamous relationship either of us had ever willingly embraced and enjoyed.
Needless to say, the sex was amazing. Night after night, what some of you folks would call the FOTC. In fact, some of you have called her exactly that. And ATF. And lots of other glowing terms and pet names.
I have read her reviews. To paraphrase Sally Field’s Oscar’s acceptance speech: You like her. You really, really like her!
I have read her reviews and ads and comments here on TER and any and everywhere else I could find them. It has been a punishing but necessary task. Because it was the only way for me to find out the truth of my own life, what had been going on for the last half-year we were together.
Because she refused to tell me.
She had launched her new career, established a visible presence online and built a loyal and sustainable clientele – first in the city where we lived and then out on the road – to my complete ignorance.
Were there signs all along? In retrospect, of course. Looking back, obviously I feel stupid, gullible and naïve. But I loved her fearlessly. And trusted her unconditionally. But, still, I understand the incredulity: How does one wake up every morning with a hooker in his bed and not know it?
Well, she had several other civilian jobs that involved lots of meetings, lots of travel. She was involved in a bunch of clubs and organizations, engaged in the community. We were insanely close but never cramped each other’s freedom and interests, we led rich and rewarding lives in and outside the bubble of our intimacy.
She was gone most of the day attending to her many jobs and commitments. I worked nights. We lived in a bustling downtown filled with businessman, conventioneers….and nice hotels. It was almost too easy for her.
The story of how I found out is long and not particularly germane here; it was a slow, steady accumulation of confusing events, unexplained disappearances and furtive behavior. Which led me to walk in the door from work one night, look into her face and ask: “What is going on?”
And for the first time in six months, she told me the truth.
My head exploded and my heart drained. But I remained calm. I loved her madly. And she loved me. She had proven herself a great actress and a master of hidden emotions, but that much was never in doubt to me; it was impossible for her to mask.
And I forgave her. And then came the hard part. Lots of talking. Lots and lots of talking.
Any TER veteran can probably guess what my first question was.
The answer was no. She wasn’t going to give it up. She loved the variety and the excitement, was determined to explore her sexuality and push her boundaries. All the attention and adoration from clients was an aphrodisiac. It was addicting.
And she was making a shitload of money. End of discussion.
And so, over days that turned into weeks that turned into months, we discussed ways to remain in each others’ lives; obviously the notions of monogamy and marriage had vanished, so we fumbled our way through the concepts of open relationships, polyamory, committed non-monogamy and all the other variations of consensual infidelity.
For months, I put everything I had into saving some small piece of my heaven. I read all the discussions – here and elsewhere – debating the pros and cons of loving a hooker. But those stories are about men who fall in love with their providers. In my case, love was the pre-existing condition. Hooking was the new twist.
In the course of my research, one thing became obviously apparent. She was made for the job. She is equipped with precisely the characteristics that define the most successful women in the industry, the best known, the best paid, the most desired:
She is the smartest person in the room. Politically and culturally informed. Artistically gifted. Magnetic social skills, an engaging conversationalist, an earnest listener. She is well educated, world-traveled, well-read, intellectually curious – open to any and all ideas, opinions and experiences that might further inform her worldview.
She’s funny as hell. And she has a body that could make Jesus weep, a face brighter than the sun and a sex drive and desire to please that leaves a man reduced to a smoldering inferno once she has unloosed her passion.
This next part should sound familiar to most of you: The more time I spent with her, the better I felt about myself, my own intellect and talents. She was attentive, giving and affectionate. She made me feel smart, funny and sexy. She made me feel like a powerful lover. She made me feel like nothing and no one else mattered, as if the time she spent with me was the best part of her day, her life.
You want to talk about living the ultimate GFE? It was my life.
So I take your story at face value, War and Peace version of an oft told tale that it is. I get that its probably therapeutic for you to have done this - a soul regurgitation if you will. But it is worrisome.
You came here to stalk her and to whip yourself into a frenzied and torrid tear fest by reading about how all these other men fucked and abused your precious little princess. It reeks of masochism. It's abundently clear you spent a very long time, weeks or perhaps months writing and editing your post. It smacks of Nicholson repeatedly writing "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy". There is a very disturbing pathology evident in all this. Its either a cry for help, a confession or a long drawn out braggards tale of how you nailed The Worlds Greatest Escort for free and now she's moved on. As has happened many times in this whole process for countless others, thoughts of revenge cannot be very far from your mind.
Seriously, you need to get professional help with this. This whole thing may not be the end of the line for your recovery, and may actually be a step further down a dangerous path. So far, coming here to TER with your tale of woe, is not the best or healthiest of moves for you.
Assuming you are telling us the truth. If not, then I guess we've been epically punked.
She doesn't do the forums.
At least, that's what she told me.
Uh oh!
Dude, if you want to self flagellate over this, fine. You aren't righteous with any of this and are actually kind of pathetic. Grow a pair and move on and stop with this "oh my god I was in love with a hooker" bullshit. The more you talk the more I'm convinced I was correct in my initial gut reaction - you have her stuffed in your freezer garage, or are at least thinking about it. Get help from a psychological professional. Do not expect much valuable advice from anybody on TER. If you do, well you are clearly insane over this and should seek help.
At least, that's what she told me.
Uh oh!
I'm beginning to appreciate you, Jinx, the gods help me, but, IMO, with this we have to cut some slack. It doesn't really matter how we see what the truth of the matter is. The thing itself isn't really the the thing itself. It's how Rom sees it, how his emotions are twisted by it, and how he's going to react to it. So far I'd say his reaction has reasonable and not seriously out of bounds.
Maybe she doesn't want to take your money because she doesn't want to tarnish what you two have. Or didn't want to ask you for fear of losing you.
Maybe have a sit down with her and really ask if she would talk about you and her, and other options for her to make good money.
Then YOU take the challenge to make her feel sexier, hotter, and more awesome than thousands of men combined.
Listen to her and find out how to do it.
She may need some help with the bills and extra diva stuff if you want her to ditch this income. She won't want to ditch feeling and being beautiful.
You should really talk to her about options and just be 100% honest about how you feel. It may scare her away for a bit, but time away makes you really think about things, and change is scary for her. Many men make promises, (and women of course,) but not many fulfill what is actually necessary to fully keep that promise. And she knows that. If she's independent she may not want to be a burden or feel like one. It gets old quick.
Should anything happen in the future and you help her with a transition - don't complain or the deal is off. Just FYI. It's a scary thing to try to leave for love and find yourself with $2 in your hand, nothing in the bank. Then when her supporter/helper complains to her, an independent person, she'll go back to being independent immediately.
I did it and he didn't help one bit. I sold all my shit for him because I wanted to be faithful.
Then he complained and said, "I thought you were successful" (he didn't know I'd stopped or even did it lol). Then I went back to the profession.
No civvie nan wants a hooker, but he will take that over a broke chick. No lie lol. I get more respect as a hooker than I ever did when I had nothing. That's the truth - even from family and friends.
So... What are you going to do?
-- Modified on 9/10/2014 11:47:33 AM
The whole story.
Or in a sick way, wanted him to know what he had. Weird, but humans can be weird sometimes.
To the OP, these guys don't always give exact months, just FYI.
Anyways, it's not me, because I haven't done anal in this job yet.
-- Modified on 9/10/2014 12:05:14 PM
The way OP puts it, she gave her stage name as a final insult. I'd guess that she knew he'd obsess over it and try to sniff out the details anyway, so she threw him a bone. In any case, she had wanted out for a while.
I do feel for the OP. Feeling betrayed may be the most emotionally painful experience.
I was thinking the same thing. She outed herself to him because she didn't have the courage to tell him she wanted to end the relationship.
I do feel for the OP. Feeling betrayed may be the most emotionally painful experience.
and develop a very clean separation between their "working" persona and their outside of work persona.
It's not necessarily being a "pathological liar" but being someone who is not willing or not wanting to integrate the two -
being in a relationship with such a person can be difficult but if it means something to you, you have to realize that it can be a psychological necessity for the person to sustain this compartmentalization. They may very well not be able to integrate the two.
you would have to be able to accept the fact that you do not know and will not come to know the "work" persona in this instance.
it may also be that your fiancée was experiencing some degree of personality disorder - allowing herself experiences in the alternate personality that she could not allow herself in her "real" life.
There is no way for us to tell.
In any case, the issues here really belong to your former fiancée - they are her choices. You did not cause them and they are not yours to own. Obsessing over them will only damage yourself. Time to move on
Pt 2!!!!! I tried so hard to curb my add for part 1 but…. there's more. Look here, shit happens. It's 4 years not a lifetime…move on buddy. Ask how many women here have been cheated on. And the men weren't getting paid. Shit happens. It sucks sometimes and I am sorry for your loss…but nobody died unless she's in your trunk. Here's a hint, consider who you are…what you look like…how good you actually are in bed. Next time a world class hottie who dt's your dick and fucks like a porn star cums your way….consider she might just be one.
Till then buck up… this too shall pass.
Is it Friday yet?
Something happened to me that left me confused and alienated. I am sure it has happened to others, but I have spent several months online looking for someone else, anyone else, who has fallen down this rabbit hole.
So, at risk of inviting TER’s reliable court jesters to form a chorus of mockery, I am convinced, if there is anyone in the world – physical or virtual - that has heard this story before, or perhaps even lived it, it is here in this forum.
After all, this online community’s very foundation is built upon the search, celebration and conquest of the Greatest American Escort. And this is a story about my life with her. And every word is true.
I’m going to try to keep it short, but that won’t be easy. By way of introduction: I am not a hobbyist. My personal experience with hookers was limited to a few blowjobs I got from streetwalkers when I was a teenager. That is, until I discovered my fiancée was one.
She had joined the trade 18 months into our courtship. High end, low volume. A full-service provider, no menu item refused, most of them enthusiastically embraced and performed. But she was six months into it before I found any of this out.
And that’s how I became am an unwitting, involuntary member of the TER community. I came here many months ago to search for clues about what happened to me, piece together the missing details of my recent past. You see, the woman I lived with had two separate identities.
Unfortunately, I was madly in love with the one she terminated.
We had known each other casually for four years and had been inseparably together for two. We shared an intense attraction and uncanny compatibility that led us both to enter into the first monogamous relationship either of us had ever willingly embraced and enjoyed.
Needless to say, the sex was amazing. Night after night, what some of you folks would call the FOTC. In fact, some of you have called her exactly that. And ATF. And lots of other glowing terms and pet names.
I have read her reviews. To paraphrase Sally Field’s Oscar’s acceptance speech: You like her. You really, really like her!
I have read her reviews and ads and comments here on TER and any and everywhere else I could find them. It has been a punishing but necessary task. Because it was the only way for me to find out the truth of my own life, what had been going on for the last half-year we were together.
Because she refused to tell me.
She had launched her new career, established a visible presence online and built a loyal and sustainable clientele – first in the city where we lived and then out on the road – to my complete ignorance.
Were there signs all along? In retrospect, of course. Looking back, obviously I feel stupid, gullible and naïve. But I loved her fearlessly. And trusted her unconditionally. But, still, I understand the incredulity: How does one wake up every morning with a hooker in his bed and not know it?
Well, she had several other civilian jobs that involved lots of meetings, lots of travel. She was involved in a bunch of clubs and organizations, engaged in the community. We were insanely close but never cramped each other’s freedom and interests, we led rich and rewarding lives in and outside the bubble of our intimacy.
She was gone most of the day attending to her many jobs and commitments. I worked nights. We lived in a bustling downtown filled with businessman, conventioneers….and nice hotels. It was almost too easy for her.
The story of how I found out is long and not particularly germane here; it was a slow, steady accumulation of confusing events, unexplained disappearances and furtive behavior. Which led me to walk in the door from work one night, look into her face and ask: “What is going on?”
And for the first time in six months, she told me the truth.
My head exploded and my heart drained. But I remained calm. I loved her madly. And she loved me. She had proven herself a great actress and a master of hidden emotions, but that much was never in doubt to me; it was impossible for her to mask.
And I forgave her. And then came the hard part. Lots of talking. Lots and lots of talking.
Any TER veteran can probably guess what my first question was.
The answer was no. She wasn’t going to give it up. She loved the variety and the excitement, was determined to explore her sexuality and push her boundaries. All the attention and adoration from clients was an aphrodisiac. It was addicting.
And she was making a shitload of money. End of discussion.
And so, over days that turned into weeks that turned into months, we discussed ways to remain in each others’ lives; obviously the notions of monogamy and marriage had vanished, so we fumbled our way through the concepts of open relationships, polyamory, committed non-monogamy and all the other variations of consensual infidelity.
For months, I put everything I had into saving some small piece of my heaven. I read all the discussions – here and elsewhere – debating the pros and cons of loving a hooker. But those stories are about men who fall in love with their providers. In my case, love was the pre-existing condition. Hooking was the new twist.
In the course of my research, one thing became obviously apparent. She was made for the job. She is equipped with precisely the characteristics that define the most successful women in the industry, the best known, the best paid, the most desired:
She is the smartest person in the room. Politically and culturally informed. Artistically gifted. Magnetic social skills, an engaging conversationalist, an earnest listener. She is well educated, world-traveled, well-read, intellectually curious – open to any and all ideas, opinions and experiences that might further inform her worldview.
She’s funny as hell. And she has a body that could make Jesus weep, a face brighter than the sun and a sex drive and desire to please that leaves a man reduced to a smoldering inferno once she has unloosed her passion.
This next part should sound familiar to most of you: The more time I spent with her, the better I felt about myself, my own intellect and talents. She was attentive, giving and affectionate. She made me feel smart, funny and sexy. She made me feel like a powerful lover. She made me feel like nothing and no one else mattered, as if the time she spent with me was the best part of her day, her life.
You want to talk about living the ultimate GFE? It was my life.
The more heartbreaking stories are the ones where someone has been married for 30 years, had a couple kids and then finds out that their spouse is gay and leaving (or some such). Or my friend who was basically left at the altar (asshole!).
G, +truth, and the others who have posted words of support. I appreciate you ...
And of course I fully realized what kind of responses I would elicit from the jokers and the tokers out there in this American morning, sprawled out on their sofas with their laptops balanced on their bellies, faces aglow with the warm and righteous satisfaction of preventing the philistines from entering the castle gates.
But really: Where else would I post this? Consider that I poured my heart and soul into it and planted it in the fertile soils of TER’s discussion board. I brought a story no one has ever heard before, a story from the very stormy epicenter of the Hobby, a man’s view of a story only ever told by women, a unique, candid, uncensored glimpses of an ugly side of your realm, painstakingly written so as to entertain as much as inform.
And I get heckled off the stage. Meh.
I admit to a tinge of disappointment with MrFisher's post. Actually, more than a tinge, to be honest. (And that's what we're doing here, right fellas? Being honest. I gotta say: It’s pretty ironic to be hauled out to the town square and being flogged for lying in a forum dedicated to an industry in which chronic dishonesty is a vital and necessary element, practically a requirement for both providers and consumers. You may disagree, but one unassailable truth is that the industry would self-immolate if almost everyone in it didn’t lie a lot.)
Hey, but what do I know, right? Made everything else up so far; must’ve made that up, too.
Anyway: While acknowledging the merits of your point, +truth, yeah - this forum is dang near sinking under the enormous weight of its dense payload of bloviated self-regard. But what the hell. Keeping these guys indoors during daylight hours makes the streets safer for children everywhere, so I'm happy to do my part.
That said, over the past week or two, I have finally and fully succumbed to the tantalizing allure of TER's provocative subject matter, impressive inventory and whimsical unpredictability. (Well, except for the guys who are really predictable, but whatchoo gonna do?)
But truthfully, the nuggets of counsel, wisdom and experience are TER’s mark of distinction in my eyes. Almost every substantial thread will render some really profound, thoughtful and bracingly original comment or opinion from a reader, and these are the bright and shining nuggets of gold that shine out from under all that literary compost that constantly nicks and dings TER's marks of distinction and credibility.
Then again, I'm sure its a great place to find hookers to bang, too, but hey, I'm not a hobbyist (yet) so we each seek our thrills by any means necessary.
Fortunately the nuggets are many and often. And truth to tell, I can't even call to mind anything specific at this moment but, from an outsider's perspective, it's quite touching when some guy posts a question touching on a sensitive matter -- likely a noob, but maybe not; maybe it's just a random guy caught in a pickle -- and as the hours pass, the elders, the sages, the griots and the cynics (the good kind) emerge from the digital realm to lay down their truth, howl at the moon, stick it to the man, defend a lady's honor or defend their own sport.
Of course, the guys with the sticky hands show up, too, and I'm sure some of the stuff they write is funny, but so much of it inside baseball and, well - I don't play baseball either.
During my recent TER binge, I’ve come to recognize some names and some identifying characteristics and attitudes and I gotta admit: MrFisher, you’re my favorite. I like the way you think. (That is, except when you call me a liar in your post; then, not so much. But hey. You must have a reason. In fact everyone who says I’m lying must have reason, right? Hmm. I must have missed those parts. I better go back and reread.)
And I don’t mean to complain – I really don’t – but obviously a lot of people criticizing me or the story haven’t read it. (And that’s no call out; yes, I realize it’s long. And trust me, it was a chore to keep it that short!) Because people keep offering me advice or suggesting something which is clearly addressed in my post but, hey, I know….it’s really fucking long.
In closing, yes, I knew by the very nature of the board that no matter what you post, the mosquitos will flock to the light. There’s no better way to build yourself up than to tear another man down, my daddy always told me.
And another reason I don’t think the critics actually read the post is because, well: Did anyone notice what it was about?
OK, I’ll give you a hint – and explain with more authority why I could only post this story in TER.
Because: While grinding through this soul-crushing drawn out episode of depravity, humiliation and unendurable sorrow, I stumbled by happenstance upon a source of information that was the equivalent of my own Rosetta Stone. In this place, I discovered the keys to unlock the secrets that had kept me imprisoned by doubt, confusion and the desperate condition of not knowing.
And the tools for overcoming this period of vast and incalculable emotional upheaval were now in hand. Dawn’s first daylight peeked through. And I stumbled blithely into a place whose role in my recovery serves as the most ironic, bizarre, almost funny and wholly inappropriate element in my healing process.
It was the place that showed me the god-awful, scorching, mind-fucking, goddamn sorry-ass shitpile of truth that was my lover and my life.
And it was where the truth set me free.
It has never occurred to me until this very moment: What if there had not been or I never found out about TER?
Jesus.
I’ll close on an upbeat note with a quick aside on lies and the liars who tell them: In an effort to follow Nicky’s astute advice to star laughing off my recent unpleasantness as a means of diminishing its power over me, let me add my two cents to the eternal debate over the veracity of reviews: Some of you are lying. Some of you are not.
The guys who have included in their reviews a description of the way my ex-GF does a certain thing with her thing to their things, well – you nailed it. Spot on. I felt like I was there when I read it.
And I was. About two hours before she went to meet you.
Ba-doom!
Thank you very much. I’ll be hear every Thursday night in September Thanks for coming!
You did, didn’t you
GG, +truth, and the others who have posted words of support. I appreciate you ...
And of course I fully realized what kind of responses I would elicit from the jokers and the tokers out there in this American morning, sprawled out on their sofas with their laptops balanced on their bellies, faces aglow with the warm and righteous satisfaction of preventing the philistines from entering the castle gates.
But really: Where else would I post this? Consider that I poured my heart and soul into it and planted it in the fertile soils of TER’s discussion board. I brought a story no one has ever heard before, a story from the very stormy epicenter of the Hobby, a man’s view of a story only ever told by women, a unique, candid, uncensored glimpses of an ugly side of your realm, painstakingly written so as to entertain as much as inform.
And I get heckled off the stage. Meh.
I admit to a tinge of disappointment with MrFisher's post. Actually, more than a tinge, to be honest. (And that's what we're doing here, right fellas? Being honest. I gotta say: It’s pretty ironic to be hauled out to the town square and being flogged for lying in a forum dedicated to an industry in which chronic dishonesty is a vital and necessary element, practically a requirement for both providers and consumers. You may disagree, but one unassailable truth is that the industry would self-immolate if almost everyone in it didn’t lie a lot.)
Hey, but what do I know, right? Made everything else up so far; must’ve made that up, too.
Anyway: While acknowledging the merits of your point, +truth, yeah - this forum is dang near sinking under the enormous weight of its dense payload of bloviated self-regard. But what the hell. Keeping these guys indoors during daylight hours makes the streets safer for children everywhere, so I'm happy to do my part.
That said, over the past week or two, I have finally and fully succumbed to the tantalizing allure of TER's provocative subject matter, impressive inventory and whimsical unpredictability. (Well, except for the guys who are really predictable, but whatchoo gonna do?)
But truthfully, the nuggets of counsel, wisdom and experience are TER’s mark of distinction in my eyes. Almost every substantial thread will render some really profound, thoughtful and bracingly original comment or opinion from a reader, and these are the bright and shining nuggets of gold that shine out from under all that literary compost that constantly nicks and dings TER's marks of distinction and credibility.
Then again, I'm sure its a great place to find hookers to bang, too, but hey, I'm not a hobbyist (yet) so we each seek our thrills by any means necessary.
Fortunately the nuggets are many and often. And truth to tell, I can't even call to mind anything specific at this moment but, from an outsider's perspective, it's quite touching when some guy posts a question touching on a sensitive matter -- likely a noob, but maybe not; maybe it's just a random guy caught in a pickle -- and as the hours pass, the elders, the sages, the griots and the cynics (the good kind) emerge from the digital realm to lay down their truth, howl at the moon, stick it to the man, defend a lady's honor or defend their own sport.
Of course, the guys with the sticky hands show up, too, and I'm sure some of the stuff they write is funny, but so much of it inside baseball and, well - I don't play baseball either.
During my recent TER binge, I’ve come to recognize some names and some identifying characteristics and attitudes and I gotta admit: MrFisher, you’re my favorite. I like the way you think. (That is, except when you call me a liar in your post; then, not so much. But hey. You must have a reason. In fact everyone who says I’m lying must have reason, right? Hmm. I must have missed those parts. I better go back and reread.)
And I don’t mean to complain – I really don’t – but obviously a lot of people criticizing me or the story haven’t read it. (And that’s no call out; yes, I realize it’s long. And trust me, it was a chore to keep it that short!) Because people keep offering me advice or suggesting something which is clearly addressed in my post but, hey, I know….it’s really fucking long.
In closing, yes, I knew by the very nature of the board that no matter what you post, the mosquitos will flock to the light. There’s no better way to build yourself up than to tear another man down, my daddy always told me.
And another reason I don’t think the critics actually read the post is because, well: Did anyone notice what it was about?
OK, I’ll give you a hint – and explain with more authority why I could only post this story in TER.
Because: While grinding through this soul-crushing drawn out episode of depravity, humiliation and unendurable sorrow, I stumbled by happenstance upon a source of information that was the equivalent of my own Rosetta Stone. In this place, I discovered the keys to unlock the secrets that had kept me imprisoned by doubt, confusion and the desperate condition of not knowing.
And the tools for overcoming this period of vast and incalculable emotional upheaval were now in hand. Dawn’s first daylight peeked through. And I stumbled blithely into a place whose role in my recovery serves as the most ironic, bizarre, almost funny and wholly inappropriate element in my healing process.
It was the place that showed me the god-awful, scorching, mind-fucking, goddamn sorry-ass shitpile of truth that was my lover and my life.
And it was where the truth set me free.
It has never occurred to me until this very moment: What if there had not been or I never found out about TER?
Jesus.
I’ll close on an upbeat note with a quick aside on lies and the liars who tell them: In an effort to follow Nicky’s astute advice to star laughing off my recent unpleasantness as a means of diminishing its power over me, let me add my two cents to the eternal debate over the veracity of reviews: Some of you are lying. Some of you are not.
The guys who have included in their reviews a description of the way my ex-GF does a certain thing with her thing to their things, well – you nailed it. Spot on. I felt like I was there when I read it.
And I was. About two hours before she went to meet you.
Ba-doom!
Thank you very much. I’ll be hear every Thursday night in September Thanks for coming!
You did, didn’t you?
SNAP! That was well said and very respectful at the same time. Yes its very common for people to defend what they do or what they like, even I had the twitch to do so until I realized that your view is just a different perspective on something many of us enjoy. And you are entitled to that perspective. There is a darkness to every hobby every game every thing we as people indulge in for fun for the most part. I believe you simply brought it to the light. Of course the knights will show up to defend their honor and the jesters will rally and things of this nature, but in the end I, for one feel generally saddened at your situation and that you had to endure it. However on the other hand it will not stall my actions when its time to dial up my lady and ask "when are you available honey?" GL to you.
She lied then came clean and then was in the process of discovering and creating who she was while you were trying to find and hold onto some part of her that was settled. Something that was yours. Something that didn't likely exist in that moment.
It is obviously a difficult task to openly share your life with someone based on truth when your truth is unfolding.
Coming to terms with your own truth and living it can be a complicated challenge, but add another persons feelings to consider and it may become impossible.
It's as if she fell out of love with you while falling in love with herself.
Timing is everything...
I loved your story, your style of writing, your intuitive nature and ability to size up and articulate the many aspects of our industry and the community that calls TER home.
Best of luck! You sound like a great guy...Xo'
I know what you are feeling because I did something very similar to what your girl did. I am not going to put my story on here but I will say it's been very hard for my s.o. to digest. It has caused some problems with us and I love him to death but it's def not easy to share your partner. Please feel free to email me if you would like to talk or exchange stories! [email protected]
It's probably not apparent, but I write for a living. Non-fiction exclusively, by the way!
Back in the period of talking-not talking-talking-etc., the subject came up often. Believe it or not -- and that's a pretty dumb challenge, I just realized -- she has given full consent for me to pursue magazine or book opportunities.
In all sincerity, I believe it was the only token of remorse and gratitude for the efforts I had made that she could muster. Her amends, let's say.
The story just keeps getting weirder, doesn't it?
was one of the reasons you didn't get even more BS responses than you did.
I normally would have been one of the hecklers throwing tomatoes at your from the sidelines, but since you took the time and effort to construct such a well written OP, I felt obliged to give you the benefit of the doubt and give you a straight answer. Or at least a straight answer based on my own perspective.
You seem surprised that people doubt your story, I have to admit that your surprise in in itself surprising to me coming from someone who has taken a "crash course" on TER. One thing you had to have learned about this place is that we are not lacking in trolls with way too much time on their hands with which to concoct all sorts of supposedly true stories, most of which are simply posted in an attempt to "stir the pot".
Hopefully you will get your revenge, and to borrow a phrase "the best revenge is living well" Nicky gave you good advice, chalk this up to a life experience, move on and remember you'll always have a story to tell about the gorgeous hooker you once fell in love with, two or three decades from now when it's nothing but a memory.
That'll actually be one hell of a story in the future as much as it hurts now. Trust me when I say I have some doozies. "You think you're in love son?!?!?! Let me tell you about love................"
That was a story of being obsessed over an infatuation with a consort of sexuality.
Who would have ever thought that.
BTW...which character are you playing in the story you wrote?
And I'm sure that you're just observing here....haven't heard that one since WickedBrut commented on that.
Back in the period of talking-not talking-talking-etc., the subject came up often. Believe it or not -- and that's a pretty dumb challenge, I just realized -- she has given full consent for me to pursue magazine or book opportunities.
In all sincerity, I believe it was the only token of remorse and gratitude for the efforts I had made that she could muster. Her amends, let's say.
The story just keeps getting weirder, doesn't it?
I think WB might be tolerable if he didn't try to be funny, some people have ZERO talent for comedy and should not even try, WB is definitely one of those people.
Kiss the bright red scaly rash on my flat hairy ass!
Needless to say, popping my cherry on the TER boards has been an exhilarating experience. Received all manner of responses and reactions. some of them silly, some of them sublime. And then there's yours, WB.
It intrigues me. But it's hard to know what to make of it, exactly. Maybe I'm reading it too literally, I don't know. Then again, I was wondering if there are certain nuances to TER board language that, as newbie, I still might be familiar with.
So I thought I would just ask you directly, WB. It seems like there's something you want to articulate but are having difficulty doing so.
Do you need any help?
The board irregulars long for the locker rooms of their youth. Not me so much. Instead of cutting human feelings to shreds, I try to first understand those feelings (and by doing so perhaps something of the person behind the board persona), and I offer what response I can.
BTW, I hope you're not reading this FLAT. You need to set the page on TREE (upper right). If you do that you'll see that my last response was to GaGambler, not to you. He gets a hard on for me every once in a while. I don't try to be a threat to anyone, but...
So what I said about the power trip she's on is still my opinion. Your response sort of confirmed that. Sex is for the moment, money comes and goes, but power and the thrill of living at risk is forever. Or so it seems. It sort of defines life for a lot of people. So, that was sincere, but still only a shot in the dark.
I AM concerned about how you're doing with this and if you feel you can let it be what it is. The responses that poke fun at you are right, in a way, because there is plenty to laugh at in the situation. But stuff like what happened to you does hurt. It can cause some people to do crazy things, and others to sit in a saloon and pine and sigh with tears falling into the shot glass. Or a lot of other responses. I hope you do okay. Suffering in silence might work, getting professional help might work, those of us who react in a friendly way might help, but you've got to get on with life and accept that now this is part of who you are.
What might happen, maybe, is that things will go badly for her at some point and she'll decide to look you up asking for help. IMO, it would be wise of you to make yourself very hard to find before that happens. Really. Forget the board, YOU don't need a Part III to this heartache.
It's the best thing I've read on here yet!
Plus, it could happen.
I dated a guy once for 6 months before coming clean that I was providing.
It was only after I found out he was still occasionally seeing his ex, that I told him about my secret life.
We stayed together for a number of years until I left him for a client!
See. Real life happens here too
Total BS. Total BS.
Plus, it could happen.
I dated a guy once for 6 months before coming clean that I was providing.
It was only after I found out he was still occasionally seeing his ex, that I told him about my secret life.
We stayed together for a number of years until I left him for a client!
See. Real life happens here too
It was fun to read!
I'd buy the book even;-
Get it in hardcover though. You'd need a bigger data plan to download it.
I'd buy the book even
I'm thinking of using the title...
TER...The untold story
I've already asked if Jennifer Lopez would play the lead.
I've tossed around calling it...
The Erotic Review...banned forever
I've got quite a cast lined up....should be out for Christmas. Fun for the whole family
And smash your ankles.
I know how much you like her and she's looking especially hot lately
I bet you'd even write a review for her and give her a 10!
You and me both, cocktail party.
You and me both.
It's a great story about an epic love affair. When the dust settles, you will, indeed, be able to "look back on this and it will all seem funny". And you'll realize what an amazing experience you had- but I suspect on some level you already realize that with your Thoreau quote.
The pain must have been extraordinary. I sympathize for you. You were star-crossed lovers from different galaxies, and it was doomed from the off. Tiffany, I believe, was exactly right: she was just finding herself and falling in love with that when you met. Her love receptors were wide open in this process, and in you walked, completely clueless, and both of you somewhat unprepared for your mutual chemistry and unlikely compatibility. Yes, this industry requires a certain necessary mendacity and a necessary schizophrenia in order to succeed- on both sides of the deal. You simply hadn't been given the chance to prepare. The one huge tragedy in all of this was her betrayal. I really think all the rest could have been worked through had she not decided to lie.
I have seen this type of situation a few times before, and some worked out (but for how long?) and some did not. I have a couple of questions for you for clarification, if you'd indulge me. First- are you certain she was not providing in any capacity before you met her? Second, if she came clean about being a provider, in what respect did she lie to you after she came clean?
I know several situations in which a civvie and a provider have found a lasting love. I mean over 10 to 15 years and counting, so it's not impossible. One of the main factors, however, was complete honesty from the start. Your relationship didn't have this, and thus the security of your trust in her would have been forever damaged, even if she hadn't lied a second time. But from the way the story ended, it sounds as if she didn't want to settle down just now anyway. But would you want someone in your life who doesn't have the simple decency to be truthful with you? I know I wouldn't, no matter how amazing all other aspects of the relationship were. Trust is simply nonnegotiable for a solid long term relationship.
But I get it: you were blinded by the light. You thought to yourself, oh yeah- she's the one. I mean, with her killer graces and her secret places that no boy could fill, your hungry heart was having trouble distinguishing between what's flesh and what's fantasy. It was a real death waltz! You were out on a midnight run, losing your heart to a beautiful one. But you found your way here to TER, where the devil appeared like Jesus through the steam in the street, and now- here- you talk to only strangers, walk with angels that have no place. You'll learn how to sleep at night with the price you pay.
I know- corny, right? Lol! Best of luck to you.
-- Modified on 9/10/2014 5:59:15 PM
I received a number of TER messages today - I'm guessing these are what everyone calls PMs?
Anyway, I gave up my VIP membership a while back. Decided I had seen everything I needed to see around here for the time being. Any, point being: If you sent me a message, I apologize for not responding, but I am unable.
I'm open to any suggestions on how we could communicate. Thanks.
Also called "back channeling" which many delight in while criticizing as cowardly at the same time. Another TER anomaly.
You comical fucktard. He sent me an email longer than the old testament. Don't shoot the messenger. I was just saying cut your losses. I mean…you were here asking for advice no?
Well here's the advice, don't marry a hooker. Boom. Straight to the point. Nobody isn't sad for your sadness (My ovaries just elongated an inch typing that), but it's done. Finito. Fin. Hotovo. Fait.
Read my other silly scathing responses and try to grow a pair and not take it so personal. I get schooled here weekly…difference is my balls are steele.
"...But would you want someone in your life who doesn't have the simple decency to be truthful with you? I know I wouldn't, no matter how amazing all other aspects of the relationship were. Trust is simply nonnegotiable for a solid long term relationship. "
Hey speak for yourself! only because you're a woman could you say that. OTH as a man I can say that if I were to be able to snag a high-end escort, that is somebody way out of my league, and be able to do the whole GFE gamut (including Greek yay!) to her for FREE -with unlimited pops to boot, I wouldn't mind one bit if she lies til the cow comes home. As a matter of fact she can even spit on my face while lying... ROFLMAO
But unfortunately for the OP in the end she decided (as most women do ) that genuine romantic love is over-rated and that fucking a lot of people while getting paid shitload of money for it still is a better deal! LOL
My ex-wife and I had a number of issues in our relationship that eventually led to our breakup. My inability to deal with her highly sexual public persona created occasional conflict, but wasn't the decisive factor in splitting up. By the time I moved out, she had already started working as a stripper. She did some porn films a few years later, which I didn't discover until a few years after that. I was well over our breakup by then and hadn't had any contact with her in some time, but it's still strange to watch your ex-wife having sex on film, even if it was the most boring sex I had ever seen. I know she continued in sex work, at least for a while, but I don't know how much of it was pay-for-play. I think it was more lifestyle than hobby, but I really don't know. I've completely lost track of her at this point and don't feel any need to know where she is or how she is.
There's no moral to this story, and I have no advice to offer, but there is one major irony. When we were young and married, I felt threatened and embarrassed by my wife's sexuality. Now, I look to hobbying to satisfy my own desires and long to be with a sexually confident woman. I'm not saying I'd like to hook up with my ex-wife; it's just interesting to compare how I see things now, compared to how I felt back then.
First let me say I am sorry to here about your hardship. learning your SO is lying about well about everything sucks. You wanted a similar story well I have one. But my story is not yours. When my wife came clean she came clean and told me everything. She also loved me despite her actions. Your now ex never told you he whole truth and always mixed it with lies. Who knows if she ever had real feelings for you. It is best you move on. It takes two to make it work and she is done.
If you want to talk I can be reached at [email protected].
my kinda girl.....
… then forgive her, or forgive yourself. At least set yourself free from your inner turmoil.
You ask us of similar experience, well, mine is not quite like yours; I was jilted by a civvie woman without any notice, another introduced me to her new boyfriend without any warning, and another said, before she dumped me, that she was just using me for sex. (Hmmm…I was good for something. lol!)
I've been in a stripper bar and a dude came up to me all distraught asking for advice on how to deal with his stripper girl friend and their on and off relationship—she loves me, she loves me not sort of thing.
At a regular bar I talked with a divorced carpenter who was crying on how he completely missed seeing his daughter grow up that just turned 18.
At a social function I talked with a very attractive woman who was a successful doctor in her field that confided in me that she will never trust a man again. She told me her doctor husband was leading a double life. He had another wife with kids. Go figure how that one got past her for a while.
In all cases I expressed empathy to these people. How can you not, these people were hurting. And you come across still hurting; I hope things get better for you.
The human mind does not come with a manual on how to run it, so people will surprise you or let you down (to put it another way).
You say your escort girl friend is a pathological liar; however, you don’t know her upbringing? Consider it could just be how she views the world; that is, it is the behavior she developed growing up. Think about how people go about interpreting words and the world around them. No two people see things the same, and in some, the divide can be great