It is said we should try everything in life, and furthermore, that we should try things at least three times to certainly know if we like them or not. Well, I never seriously considered becoming a professional slut, not until I tried it, then I realized I was born for that—among other stuff.

   I’ve been gay and horny since I can remember. My first erections, as I recall, besides thinking something was wrong-but-felt-good with my cock, were while playing with my sexy muscled action figures of the THUNDERCATS and HE-MAN, or living some crazy exhibitionist adventures in my still innocent mind; but it was not before long years of clumsy and cumless self-explorations that I finally got to cum, shooting some of my first loads while smelling my big (hot rugby-player) cousin’s sweaty underwear, or while spying on my dad through a small gap beneath my bookshelf while he was fucking a random girl in his room next to mine. And so on.

   I was born and raised in Chile, in a small city known as The Pearl of the North; there, at a very young age, I discovered the gay-cruising “secret” world. I was a thirteen-year-old cute little boy already fucking around on dark alleys and parks, rocky beaches and strangers’ cars. Later on, the internet and its chat-rooms made it easier for my furtive encounters to happen, but nothing like the gay-dating websites I started using when I moved to Santiago, where I also found loads of hot fun inconspicuously happening at peculiar “cyber-cafes” and in the toilets of certain shopping malls—in a lack of proper sex-clubs—which did not only increase my sexual craving but made it even harder to satisfy. I was savouring the carnal pleasures of the world and I wanted endlessly more.

   By that time, in my early twenties, I was studying and practicing complementary therapies while exploring and training some theatre and dance. Due to my intense horniness, when I had kind-of-sexy clients for massages, I used to give them some arousing touches and signs of my lust, so it was quite probable to end up doing much more than that; but, even thou I thought about it a few times, offering sexual services didn’t seem like an option, because, besides prostitution being quite underpaid and vilified in my country—just like mostly everywhere else in the world—and that I had not yet the luck of meeting a proud slut, I doubted I could get a hard-on with someone I didn’t like; I was obviously not considering all those faceless guys I fucked with, when, hyper-horny and out of options, I just needed urgently to cum. I used to think that if I had to get it up, my cock maybe would not work.

   It was years later in Berlin, when I was 27, where suddenly a lover became my mentor in escorting by telling me he had slave-clients who paid him for domination sessions and sexual practices, and he gave me the answer to that fundamental first doubt. It was as easy as anyone could have thought: Viagra (or more precisely, Kamagra). This magical blue pill—which can be easily bought online, and quite cheap—opened a professional door for me. I needed a job; so, advised by my hot mentor, I created an escort profile on PlanetRomeo and started offering erotic massages, not sex, just to try. To my surprise, by doing some sessions I discovered a huge turn-on, and even more, it was indeed less work for me to fuck an ass than giving a good massage; just a half of a pill and I was rock-hard. It didn’t only make me horny the fact of being paid for a fuck, or being admired and adored like a god, but I also began to realize about the therapeutic potential and beautiful aspects prostitution can have. After a few more sessions my mind was way more open, I was really enjoying meeting clients—they were, in average, much nicer and sexier than expected—so I started applying all my artistic, therapeutic, emotional, social, spiritual and sexual experience to offer a wider spectrum of possibilities: Role Playing, Fist-Fucking, Tantra, Reiki, Psychomagic, Tarot; from SOFT to HARD, from CUDDLY to KINKY, from MILD to WILD. It was the beginning of my conscious exploration through the infinite forms of interpersonal connections, through the diverse ways of generating and conceiving pleasure, and sustaining that pleasure at a high intensity by controlling the orgasm to enhance the satisfaction. I was developing a skill to perceive my clients’ likes and needs, to stimulate and develop their sensuality, and to seduce them and indulge them by doing just what I felt like doing. I was not going to force myself to do anything, but I was keen on trying new things.

   However, great liberty and abundance of places to find all kinds of hot fun makes Berlin an amazing city to live, to party, to meet interesting people, to cruise and fuck around, but not so good for sex work. Therefore I moved to Paris, where I started to catch and love the rhythm of the job. This fusion between holistic therapies and kinky sexual services, an authentic description, plus, of course, some sexy pictures, were making my escort profile quite attractive and unusual. Besides, Romeo’s blue pages provide very practical advantages for sex workers, like the possibility of creating a profile and to handily set it on basically any main city you wish to go; do it one week before you travel and you may receive enough messages to organize in advance a quite productive time. Normally, you can see on your clients’ profiles some pictures and details about them, you can discuss all you want and need before meeting, and you even have a Guest-Book where they can write positive reviews when they are happy with your job. All those services are free of charge. If you pay for them—which is totally worth it—your profile is highlighted to be more noticeable and you get unlimited storage to save profiles, messages and pictures—which is great when you fuck and travel a lot, and your memory, like mine, is not good enough to remember them all.

   The first time I traveled as an escort it was to Frankfurt, invited by a client I hadn’t met before. One weekend in a luxurious hotel with a rich old man who immediately “fell in love”, made me realize there is a kind of clients that lie themselves pretending it’s about love, but implicitly making it about money; and to match them, of course, there is a kind of escorts who indiscreetly lie to their clients to take their money by pretending they are in love. At that moment I decided my main philosophy in my work—as in my life—would be HONESTY. I told him I could act like I was in love, that we could explore and fulfil some of his fantasies by playing roles; but, for his own good, he had to know that I was sure I would not fall in love, and that the chances of an escort falling for him were indeed very low. I could see that it hurt. Well, truth—as does life, and love—sooner or later hurts; but painful and unpleasant experiences can always be chances to learn and grow. He told me he had been deceived many times by dishonest escorts, and, with tears in his eyes, he thanked me from the bottom of his broken heart. I gave him a hug and a proper fuck, deep to the bottom of his ass; that is what he wanted, and that is my job. He is still grateful and insists on meeting me from time to time. I never met him again, as I never met again any of those who offered me an apartment, a car, paying my studies or anything I want, in exchange, obviously, for monogamous love. No. I will not lie or create dependences. I’m not into that common form of social prostitution that builds opportunistic relationships disguising them as love; I prefer to be sincere, and having my services and prices clear. I enjoy what I do, I do it with love and, for now, I do not intend to stop.

   My second escorting trip was to Strasbourg, but this time I paid my own tickets and booked a hotel room where I could work. Some client there wanted a Scat session—yes, quite like in SALÒ, there are people who love eating shit—but, as I’m not into it, undoubtedly I said no. Then his offer grew more and more until I asked myself: “Ok, am I not open-minded? So, why not?” I just had to go, take a shit on his mouth, and leave. And so I did. He was waiting for me at his remarkably well-equipped playroom, very excited, under his especial chair. I sat on there, and I was pushing my shit out while he was rimming my hairy ass when unexpectedly I started enjoying it and getting super hard. It felt so weirdly good, like being kind-of-backwardly fucked. The smell was definitively a turn-off, so I started breathing only through my mouth and the stench was gone. It took him just a few minutes to jerk-off and cum; then, I took my money and left his home. He was so happy; I was so shocked, more by my shameful pleasure than anything else. Since then, when I’m asked for scat I say: “Ok, as long as you are clean about it… Your hole must be properly washed if you want me to fuck it; if you want my shit, you eat it directly from my ass and then I leave. I’m not into shitty games”.

   Still in Strasbourg, a client invited me to Zurich. He would book my flight tickets and three days on an apartment for myself only, where I could work freely, plus generously paying me a three-hour session for him. I agreed. He was really nice, the flat was perfect and the city so beautiful and great for business that I decided to book the same place for a few days more. My clients there were—in general—so sexy, polite and trustable; even though my prices were higher than anywhere else, they still tipped me quite much. On that trip I decided I would be a sex worker for the rest of my life (or at least until the conditions of my aging force me to stop) because it not only allows me to connect intimately with so many different people and to travel around, but it is also a great way of channelizing my excessive sexual energies while being productive with my time.

 
   It has been six years now as an escort, and I’m really happy and proud of my work. Prostitution, besides being necessary, can be a really  wonderful occupation. Or is it that sex should be a privilege of the sexy and the young? What about the ugly, the handicapped, the obese and the old? Should not they fuck at all? Some of my most amazing experiences have been precisely with disabled and old men who have shed tears of joy when I’ve simply kissed their inexperienced shy lips, when I’ve made them feel pretty, when I’ve made them feel loved. We have doctors to take care of our bodies, psychiatrists and psychologists to help our minds, therapists to explore our emotions, spiritual guides to orientate our souls. And what about our sexuality? Why is it so degrading to exchange money for sex? There are horny people (like myself) who enjoy to be paid, as there are the ones who like to pay (because it’s kinky, because it’s practical, because it’s fun), and others that have not much option but they have money and for them it’s ok. There are all kinds of preferences, fantasies and fetishes, and there are always people to match with them. It’s important to openly talk about sex, to explore ways of fulfilling our impulses and desires; as long as there is mutual consent, everything is valid.

   When we discuss about prostitution, it is crucial to distinguish between the activities performed voluntarily by a highly significant number of people around the globe, from the atrocities suffered by the—in comparison quite small but still gigantic number of—victims of sex trafficking, which is more related to rape and slavery rather than to sex work. Criminalizing prostitutes or their clients to stop commercial sex trade is like forbidding chocolate to stop child exploitation; like outlawing farming, fishing and mining to fight forced labour; or like making drugs illegal to cease their use. Some human rights advocates are taking a totally wrong approach on these topics. Proscribing things that people like or need, obviously only increases illicit traffic in them.

   Prostitution should be not only accepted, but also appreciated. Sex work—which also includes erotic modeling and dancing, porn acting and every activity in the sex industry—should be a respectable profession, for which it is needed dedication and vocation. Its denigration and prohibition leads to sickness, traffic, abuse and death. In the majority of countries, prostitution is illegal and it can be punished with a fine, with prison sentences or even, in some places, with death penalty. In many other nations the exchange of sex for money is not prohibited, but all kind of pimping and brothels are; this forces prostitutes to work alone, which makes it very dangerous, especially for women and transgender people. Generally, in these countries there are also other restrictions and laws, for example, against soliciting in public spaces and advertising, making work really complicated; and to make it even worse, now more countries are implementing the inglorious “Swedish Model”, which decriminalize prostitutes but criminalize clients. It is in just a few countries where prostitution is legal and regulated—Germany, Austria, Netherlands and Switzerland, among others—but, with this wave of conservative fascism that is taking over the world, if we don’t do something about it, we should not expect anything better than the worst.

   So let’s rethink our moral conceptions and limitations; let’s open our minds and hearts to different ways of exploring life. We live in a vast world full of beauty and horrors, with countless inconceivable realities that we cannot begin to understand; but we can certainly begin to listen, to see, to accept and to respect. Maybe it is not yet too late, maybe something will happen and humanity will not face an imminent, sad and stupid end; but then, it is now the moment we must give our best to trigger change. Through empathy, love, honesty, freedom and sex, let’s find our own ways of making this world a better place.   

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JorgeTheObscene - Berlin, 2017.​