A few hours ago I used a bidding site to procure my North Shore incall location for tomorrow.

When the hotel that I "won" revealed itself after my purchase I recoiled in momentary horror.
A snobbish reflex, it didn't stick and with a smile I began packing for my day.

WAIT - stay with me; before you sigh "another girl who thinks I give a fuck about the linen count in her room or her 'mood' lighting" just let me share my thoughts.

When I began two years ago I used my home as a residential incall.  Guests were amused by the cuteness of visiting a student at her apartment (thank God I didn't discover escorting while I was in dormitories.  That my friends, is a check I would have cashed.)- and I felt comfortable and happy entertaining in my space.  I found it to be exactly as I envisioned and hoped for while plotting my entry to the business:  intimate, natural and much like having a boyfriend over.

I was sent to work with an incall service by a guest from TER who found me on Craigslist and was afraid that I would get myself into trouble learning alone.  In 2006 this particular agency was recognized as the best in Atlanta and rightfully so.  The owner, a former provider, had a true knack for selecting beautiful women who were accessible and ordinary women who were made extraordinary by virtue of service and personality.  The policies of the service were strict by anyone's standards, and we all reaped the benefits.
Among many other things (enforced by weekly conference calls and evaluations-I am not making this up) our stylish, fully stocked three bedroom corporate apartments were kept spotless by a combination of housekeepers and us girls.  Guests were never to see each other in passing, or even a girl not his hostess.  A hard juggling act by the phone operator and owner, but a seemingly seamless, gorgeous presentation.

In December 2006 when I decided that I was prepared to be fully independent, I left the service and took many of the cues that I had learned from my experience.  
Structured cleanliness, stocks of white towels and linens, etc.: I designed my home to be the perfect incall.

As I polished my act I often included car service, sending a chauffeured car for my business traveler guests who I was still too green to outcall to.  I soon realized the impression that this left upon my friends; arriving to my gated community and spending time in a well-furnished private home was a far cry from some other adventures they'd experienced.  
It was during this time that I developed a very particular taste and style as a hostess, without even realizing it.

Apparently Massachusetts is in competition with Florida for the most elderly nosy neighbors in America and I am not afforded the luxury of a static incall.  I do miss the hundreds of luxury apartment communities in Atlanta, packed to the brim with distracted young professionals, each neighborhood an opportunity for carefree hosting.
Admittedly I am considerably safer utilizing hotels and have learned to appreciate the value of all that the Boston area has to offer in terms of space.

For the days that I feel like being reminded of why I moved here there is Back Bay, replete with standard business hotels made special by panoramic views of Boston and the opportunities for clandestine drinks with guests.
Making love pressed against a window, discussing the virtues of the architecture of the Christian Science Center is always a favorite.

For the days that I feel like mimicking the comforts of an apartment/home there are delightful little newer extended stay properties in the suburbs.  More space & multiple surfaces
encourage athleticism.

...And for the days that I say
"I'm horny.  Wait, I'm a pro.  Why am I sitting here looking at porn like a chump and why am I NOT sifting through email right this moment to rectify that?"
There are little mid-range dives on the North Shore, easily dressed up by my candles and Febreeze.  

With your eyes locked squarely on the tattoo on my lower back and my face pressed firmly in a pillow, which of us will notice the polyester curtains tomorrow?

Xo,
Ally
WhoIsAlly.Moore