By GARY SEWARD
What if your resume read like this:
“Hello gentlemen, I am Robert. I am 22 5’8 and 150 lbs. I’m the perfect twinky companion for the 9-5er who wants to escape and find a relaxing, enjoyable young man. I am sweet and easy going so you will find yourself immediately comfortable. Your time with me will be very satisfying. I am accommodating, playful at times, and always pleasant. I will cater to your needs, and can always integrate some role playing or dancing if you desire. I’m bi with a ripped body and can switch between being dominant or submissive depending on you desire. 100% discreet and disease free. I have an 8” cut cock and can go for long sessions. HIV NEG (tested every month) SAFE ONLY!! I always cum! Ready to please you any way you like from mild to WILD.
Available for couples too (male/female). Very discreet – professional – premium services – positive attitude, SERIOUS CALLERS ONLY: I do not tolerate rude callers and absolutely no sex talk. Please make sure your cell number is not blocked.
Outcalls & Overnights ALL available. $250/hour $550 overnight.” Name and some information changed for confidentiality reasons.
This is Robert’s current resumé; an advertisement on an escort site that caters to men in Canada.
Robert never envisioned himself as a high-paid escort when he moved to Toronto six years ago, and he’s not what people might expect. He’s educated with a Masters degree. He comes from a WASP family just west of Toronto, and after university he even had a “real job” in the private sector.
Sex work wasn’t a profession he desired, but like many who partake in it, he was left with very few options. It started with a need to pay off a high cell phone bill and his current job barely covered rent, hydro and food.
One day Robert was walking along Queens Park with some friends, preoccupied with thoughts about how he was going to pay off his bills, when he saw it: one of the famous pink signs in Toronto that read “HOT MALES WANTED.” He was intrigued.
“I had no idea what to expect, but at the time I was desperate, and I called.”
Robert called and a raspy voice on the other end gave him vague information he needed for an in person interview. When he arrived he was taken aback by how dingy the place was. It was a post war loft space with Japanese screens sectioning off cubicles with old futons and beanbag chairs, a camera in every cubicle. The raspy-voiced man introduced himself and told Robert what he did there, but Robert didn’t stick around – it was too much for him. He didn’t want to get paid jerking off on camera for horny middle-aged men. So he fled, but before he did, he noticed on the wall another flyer for an escort site.
When Robert returned to his apartment he typed in the URL and discovered just how easy it was to make a profile, upload some pictures of himself and his body and await some kind of response. And the best part was, any money he could earn would be 100% his.
It didn’t take long to get responses in his email from men wanting what he had. His trepidation was trumped by a burning need to make some cash to live reasonably comfortably. He started corresponding with a few men and secured a date with one for two days later.
Robert is a self-proclaimed bisexual, meaning he’s fucked and been fucked by both men and women and he enjoys it. But even with this experience, he was obviously nervous, and he didn’t trust that he could tell friends what he was up to so they could make sure this first client (or any subsequent client) didn’t murder him for his skin.
Two days passed and Robert was off to meet his first client in Yorkville, one of the more swanky parts of Toronto. Upon arrival, Robert waited a few seconds to buzz this mystery client in order to check his bag for the supplies he had brought: water-based lube, two regular sized condoms, and two magnums just in case.
Robert’s first client lived in the penthouse on the top floor of a condo and as soon as Robert was in the door he felt completely at ease. Sure, his client wasn’t exactly the kind of man Robert would take home to fuck after a long night of drinking at a bar, but he was polite and kind. He wasn’t pushy and Robert could tell this was an escape for this man; it was a lived-out fantasy of having a cute twenty-something boyfriend. They talked a little bit and had some iced tea before Robert decided to make the next move.
The entire thing lasted a little over an hour and to Robert’s satisfaction he did need one of these magnums after all. After it was done and they both cleaned themselves up, Robert got dressed and was handed an envelope. He didn’t know the proper protocol – does he count it now to make sure he’s not being ripped off or does he wait till he’s left just in case he offended the man that just fucked him to completion and loved every second of it? Robert chose the latter and left.
When he got down he had to check what was in the envelope. He counted $500. For just over one hour of having sex with an older man. Sex that included two orgasms for Robert.
From that moment Robert knew he was on to something. Sure, escorting was more about the illusion of love and intimacy, and at the end of the day was merely a transaction or a series of transactions. But if you can make that kind of cash in one session, what would stop you from trying it again?
Since that first encounter Robert has been doing this for three years now. His clients usually fit within the same demographic: between 40 and 60 years old, white, and moderately to extremely wealthy.
The money Robert makes pays for just about everything, which leaves him able to pursue the passions and hobbies that he loves. Society may reject his choice of profession and attach such vulgar labels as “hooker”, “rent boy”, or even “crackhead who will suck dick for anything”, but that doesn’t deter Robert, because he knows this is his choice. He’s a self made man with sovereignty. He gets free gifts and chances to see the world with certain clients. Sure, he needs to get naked and have sex with strangers (some of whom do physically repulse Robert from time to time), but everyone hates certain aspects of any job. What’s so different from the server who hates cleaning toilets clogged with paper towels and loose stool at the end of the night?
Robert does have some issues with friends and the people he dates and some days even will tell himself that he’s never doing it again. He also knows that he’s one of the lucky few. He was never forced into sex work and has never been in a dangerous situation. He also knows that it’s not something that is sustainable. His youth will fade and along with it the desire from older men to fuck him. But for now, it pays the bills and leaves Robert with a life of little worry. He always uses condoms and has only once had an STI: crabs. As disgusting as that may sound, lets face it, crabs are the Nerf dart of the STI world.
Some people may dismiss Robert’s choice to suck dick for money. They are probably the same ones sucking the corporate dick from nine to five for a chance at a corner office …and are probably not getting $250 an hour.
