Indecent Proposals

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Your stories please!


Ever since the publication of 'I Slept with a Pimp' which appeared in the Guardian under the title
'A Day in a Different Life', my subsequent interview in the Daily Mail and appearance on ITV's new television show, Real Lives, (hosted by Vanessa Feltz), I have been besieged by tales from other women who have had similar experiences. It seems I am not alone in finding myself flirting with the idea of selling myself for money. So ladies, whether it was that offer of a weekend in Barcelona where you knew bed & breakfast meant definitely sharing both, or that dawning realisation at dawn that all the coke was gone and you were alone with the dealer and he was going to expect some kind of payment, please send me your stories of Indecent Proposals that you may or may not have accepted…

There's a possibility of book publication, so please make sure you understand the important legal stuff below. Then either email me or post a story via the comment button below... there's been a few sent in already. I am not looking for literary masterpieces, just your story in your words. And don't worry, no give-away personal information will be published. Thanks!

I understand that by submitting material to Glenda May Richards that I will not be paid for use of the material, as explained in the Terms and Conditions; however each time the text is used it will be accompanied by an acknowledgement, unless I request my name to be withheld.

posted by glendamay @ 7:00 PM  

10 Comments:

  • At 2:24 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    When I was 17 yrs. old, back in the good old disco days of the late 70's, one of the bouncers at a dance club I hung out with noticed that I tended to
    leave the bar with a different guy every night. He pulled me aside one evening and said, "look, it's obvious you love sex, why not make some money at it and hang with some guys who can help you improve your life?". I was
    turned on, intrigued and soon, he was hooking me up with business-men in their 30's and 40's and sometimes even 50's that wanted a 'sure thing' to take out and about on the town.

    I felt that these men were more my 'sugar daddies' than actual clients as they really cared about me, looked after me and offered grounded advice on how to move my life forward on all levels. Eventually one of them flew me
    out to California for a visit, paying for the flight, setting me up with his car while he was away on business, and giving me a credit card for incidental purchases. I had a blast during that time, had NO regrets and
    have really fond memories of all those guys. I had lovely clothes, nice dinners at lovely restaurants and had none of the bullshit that usually goes along with dating guys in their teens. Eventually, the California sugar daddy proposed marriage, which I turned down.

     

  • At 2:26 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    I once went to a secret Arab night club in Mayfair where all the women were call girls. It was like something out of Arabian nights.
    I had been dragged there by my ex-boyfriend's current girlfriend
    who happened to be in London 'visiting friends'. I
    soon realised that she was on the game and wanted company in her escapades. It was the only time in my life that I really contemplated doing it. A man whispered in my ear that I could get 2,000 pounds for 'not doing very much' and stroked my knee while he
    said this. I REALLY thought about it and although the mind was more than willing I realised there was an invisible line I just couldn't cross. I suddenly put a
    huge value on myself and it was more than 2,000 pounds. It was invaluable.

     

  • At 2:29 AM, Blogger glendamay said…

    This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

     

  • At 2:31 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    saw your article in The Guardian and it propelled me back to my years as a nursing student in Bristol in the mid-eighties, when I found myself in a similar compromised situation.
    I had a weekend job in a cornershop newsagents which was as mundane as it sounds, until, three months into the job, the business was sold and I found myself with a new boss - a local single mum Jenny, with a 10 year old daughter had taken over the business. A few months went by and Jenny was great, she was very laid back, often couldn't get up in the mornings, so trusted me with the keys and the responsibility for opening the shop and organizing the school boys with the paper rounds - not so easy given I was 19 and out partying the night until the early hours!
    Every other weekend, her boyfriend, a dentist from Harley Street in London, would come down to stay. As Jenny and I became friendlier and started to go up to her flat above the shop after work for a few G&T's, it soon became clear the 'boyfriend' was in fact an ex 'client' who had bought the business for her, to get her settled and 'off the streets'. I was suprised by this, but not shocked, but from then on, an overt sexually charged atmosphere pervaded. I found myself wearing shorter skirts and stockings to work, agreeing to take her boyfriend's newspaper up to him in bed where I knew he would get really turned on looking and flirting with me. He even used to come down and get me to fetch things from the stock room, on the top shelf, so he could hold the ladder whilst I climbed up and he looked up under my skirt.
    One weekend, over a drink after work alone with Jenny (her daughter was often staying at her sisters house with her cousins),
    she asked me if I wanted to go to London the next saturday night and earn £200. Her boyfriend(who, by the way, was married with a family in Reading) didn't know that she still did the odd 'exclusive' job as a hostess at erotic parties. She told me it would be a real scream, all I had to do was to be a topless drinks hostess, sit on clients knees and flirt and giggle - they could stroke and touch me, but any agreement to have sex was up to me and an exclusive arrangement of my own making. She warned me that there would be political and ministerial people there, so my discretion was absolutely required- I would be going with her recommendation so couldn't let her down. We would be driven back early the next morning, in good time to open up shop for the usual 7 am paper round.

    It is strange looking back on this because it something that, even though I didn't go through with it, gave me an extraordinary erotic charge, the whole idea that I could have done this, I was that close to it- gave me incredible sexual fantasies for years after.
    A bit of me wishes I had done it - in truth, I was just starting to fall in love with my first real boyfriend, a fellow student, and I just couldn't imagine coming back having been a topless whore, with a fat wodge of notes to prove it, and not being able to share the story with him...and of course, that was a ridiculous scenario. And so, my story has been completely secret until now...thank you Glenda for letting me share this with you, I really think so many of us women have a similar story to tell-we are not alone!

     

  • At 6:03 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    I met a man through another girlfriend of mine who'd fantasized about having sex with two women, and was prepared to pay
    big bucks for the pleasure. We drove to his city, two hours north of the town I was living in, and met him in his upscale Toronto home. The evening was as pleasurable for me, as it was for him. I was very turned on by my
    black skinned girlfriend, and although our client was 20 years older than me, my attraction to him was very strong. We earned $500 between the two of us for the evening, and I left feeling somewhat saddened that I'd met
    such a dynamic man under these circumstances. He was someone I'd want to have a relationship with, and now he saw me as a prostitute. He called me a
    few days later, and asked to book another evening with me. I told him that I had just been 'experimenting' with this money for sex thing, and that I'd
    love to see him again, but under different circumstances. He responded quite favorably, and we embarked on a passionate relationship. What I
    found, however, was that because of the start to this relationship, I always felt that I was somewhat 'in service' to this man. Our meetings always had
    a different sexual fantasy theme that he generated, and although he treated me beautifully, I still felt somewhat 'bought' by him.
    Eventually, I broke off the relationship and haven't accepted money for sex since.

     

  • At 6:30 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    I did the backpacking thing when I was 23 and travelled through Asia by myself. It was great. I met lots of new friends and was rarely travelling alone - except for one night in Singapore. I'd got soaked earlier in the day and was feeling sniffly but went out and had a Singapore Sling in Raffles Hotel anyway. By myself.

    When I left, a very handsome and well-dressed man followed me and asked me to go for a drink. I'd been comfortable meeting new people so agreed - and it turned into one of the weirdest evenings of my life. Initially, spending the night with him wasn't mentioned at all. Instead he began offering me different things - a shopping trip the next day, a week in a luxury hotel over Christmas - even a job with his parent's company for a fat wage and a flat in any European city after three years! But it never felt threatening - I just couldn't figure out why he was offering all this stuff. Eventually - and this was after a really long time - it came down to how much I would accept to spend the night with him. After going up through various increments, he offered me a million dollars and said he could arrange to have it brought over right there and then.

    In black and white it seems so obvious that he was offering things he didn't have, and maybe there was a more sinister agenda. But at the time, it felt possible; my concerns were actually how I'd manage to come back from a year away with an extra million dollars. Plus I liked my independance and wasn't about to commit to anything - even breakfast the next day - with this man.

    But I did do a very odd thing. I said I didn't want any money, but I did go to an hotel with him. We fooled around a bit and I was unnerved by his very scary tattoos, and was also starting to feel quite ill from the cold I'd caught earlier that day. I was really starting to regret going there. But when I explained I was feeling ill, he actually ended up going out to get me some hot food, tucked me up and slept on the sofa!

    I woke at 5am, and just didn't want to deal with this situation I'd ended up in - so I got up quietly and left. I'll never know if the million dollars was a real offer - or if I was in real danger! I'm happiest not knowing really; I had a great adventure, a charming evening, but also felt I hadn't compromised my independence either. And I can still say I was offered a million dollars to spend the night with someone...

     

  • At 5:39 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    It was my fourth job after doing a secretarial course and I felt I had really landed on my feet. As an avid reader of books, I was thrilled to be making lunch appointments with literary editors, typing letters to best selling novelists and reading the occaisonal manuscript when the junior editors slushpile got to big. I was the secretary to the whole editorial department, but increasingly, the editorial director would call me in to take dictation, tidy his office and generally assist him, despite having his own personal p.a.called Anna.
    After a few months he started to ask me regularly to join him and Anna for wine in his office at the end of the day, then sometimes for dinner at his private club.At Christmas I got a very generous bonus, given to me in cash and he told me not to tell any of the others, as he was rewarding me for my loyalty and total reliability.

    I have to say I was extremely happy about all this, as 'C' as I will call him, was great company, funny and charming. It was about six months into the job that, over lunch he told me that he was sexually obsessed with me and wanted to pay me £300 to go to bed with him. I was shocked to hear myself replying 'OK' almost immediately without even thinking about it, and to find myself meeting him in a hotel lobby later that evening to go to bed with him.

    He was a good lover and things went fantastically well in as much as about once a month, he would ask me to repeat the experience, for the same fee. It was about the fourth or fifth liason when I had to bail out. I arrived at the usual hotel as planned and was suprised to see Anna with him. I was even more suprised when he announced over cocktails in the bar, that he wanted to pay us both £500 to join him upstairs for a threesome. We both said no, and later as we shared a taxi home, we were in fits of giggles, discovering that he had been bedding and paying both of us for the past year.

    I have to say he was extremely curteous, and didn't behave badly to me when I ended our liasons, but I did move jobs soon after, and Anna and I became really close friends, and still now share a giggle remembering the wild times we had working for 'C'.

    from June, London

     

  • At 1:07 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    I'd just left school after A levels and was working in a local bar to earn some money before heading off to spend the summer in Turkey with friends. My best friend, Gerry, wasn't coming with us because she'd fallen in love with a man 20 years older than her and was helping him out with his business. Besides, Colin, as we'll call him, was fiercely possessive and would never have let her go.
    But that didn't stop Colin coming into the bar where I worked every day and flirting with me. He wanted to know all about my trip, where I was going and who with. He was particularly interested to find out which one of my travelling companions I might be sleeping with. (None of them). His behaviour disconcerted me. I was only 18, I didn't want to be rude to him, but nor did I want to give him any encouragement. But he persisted. I didn't say anything to Gerry because I didn't want to upset her, and also because I didn't think her relationship with him would last anyway.

    I was relieved when the time came to leave the country. We travelled by coach all the way to Turkey, camped, moved around and after a couple of weeks my friend Sarah and I left the group to meet up with friends at another town along the coast. On our first night, we went into a bar and there was Colin, cool as you like. 'I thought I might find you here,' he said, as if following me all the way to Turkey was the most normal thing in the world. More embarrassed than anything else, I accepted a couple of drinks from him before making excuses and leaving. Over the next couple of days, he would turn up and buy my friend and I drinks, which we accepted because we were totally skint. He, of course, knew this.

    'Look, why don't you girls come and join me in X?' he said one evening. 'I've hired a villa there for a couple of weeks. You could come and stay. You look like you could do with a bit of luxury and comfort.' He always played it pally. We demurred, muttering something about having to meet up with friends.

    A few days later, Sarah and I got sick. Really sick. We were sleeping on a friend's balcony, had very little money and were feeling wrung out and wretched. I can't remember whose idea it was, but somehow we made the decision to get on a boat and meet up with Colin. The lure of a soft bed with cool cotton sheets was too much, I guess. I honestly didn't
    think there would be strings attached, and felt that anyway, there was safety in pairs. Colin was lecherous, but never molested me.

    When we got to X, Colin treated us like a perfect gentleman. No funny business at all. We were feeling really rough, and he left us to our own devices most of the time.

    Then, when I was feeling better, Colin went for the full-on seduction. I guess it took him about a week of flattery, teasing, cajoling and generally making me squirm, to get me (relunctantly) into bed. We slept together a couple of times before he had to return to England.

    The night before he left, he told Sarah and I that we could stay on in the villa for another week. Waking up the following morning after he'd gone, I saw a bunch of notes on the bedside table. About £100, which in those days, in Turkey, felt like a small fortune. Of course we spent the lot, eking out our holiday by another three weeks.

    It was only when I got home and Colin was behaving as if we were having an affair, that I really felt as if I'd been bought. But it took a few weeks before I managed to wriggle out of the whole thing. I felt dirty, tainted and guilty. It was a huge relief to leave town for University.

    For the record, Gerry and Colin are still together, with four children. He's had numerous affairs, which she's either found out about, or he's told her about. But it was only recently that he told her he'd had sex with every one of her girlfriends.

     

  • At 6:50 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    Hello Glenda,
    This is a story I have kept secret for twelve years, it is not one I am proud of,and I am telling it as a kind of cautionary tale..

    My older sister's ex-husband J was (and still is) a photographer, and I really admired his work and I aspired to be a photographer too, if only as a keen amateur. Back in the mid 90's, when I was in my early twenties, a did a series of evening courses and J took a lot of time and trouble to give me guidance and help, he really encouraged me, and would let me come round and use his dark room, if he was around he would help me out.
    I remember feeling slightly nervous, realizing I was in the dark, in very close proximity with this very charismatic man who I admired enormously, and I could feel a real electricity in the room, but kept thinking I was being ridiculous, it was all in my imagination and that I must stop these thoughts, he was my sisters husband! There was no way he could be attracted to me, I am the plain Jane, my sister is a stylish extrovert.How wrong could I be.
    Unfortunately, it wasn't too long before J made his move on me. He had a collection of cameras and there was one that I loved and coveted. He was showing me how to work it, leaning over me from behind, when he started to stroke my hair and pressed hard up against me and said he wanted to give it me as a gift. As I turned round in shock, he grabbed me close and started kissing me. Within minutes we were on the floor of the dark room having sex. The whole thing only took about ten minutes. Although me and my sister had an antagonistic relationship, I never dreamt I could do such a treacherous shameful thing. I felt terrible, and couldn't look him in the eye for months, I would blush with shame everytime I thought of him, and would pray he didn't pick up the phone when I had to ring my sister.
    Fortunately for me, I didn't realize at the time that they were rowing a lot and on the verge of splitting up.I was tormented by the idea he might tell her, I kept imagining the horror and pain she would feel and how it would wreck the whole family if it came out. Six months after the dirty deed, she left him, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Although I loved that camera, it filled me with with shame and regret everytime I looked at it, so I sold it not long after their divorce.
    With the passage of time, the shame has diminished, but it put a terrible blight on my life for nearly a decade. I thought I would take this secret to the grave, but now I have shared it with you - I am glad to get it off my chest!

    Cindy Incidently

     

  • At 6:52 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

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