Recently a friend of mine, (who I'll call David) upon learning that I have on occasion hired guys for sex, wrote me the following gentle reprimand:
"...And I would be remiss if I didn't mention to you that you shouldn't hire guys. You're better than that."
This was my reply to him:
My dear sweet David,
And I would be remiss if I didn't tell you that sometimes my body needs to be touched, even if it's by a stranger for whom I have no feelings otherwise. Too much of my life has already been in invested in doing without that which makes me happiest and gives me the greatest comfort. Sometimes my body just needs another man to touch it and take away the rough edges of the loneliness.
For all my bluster and bravado, the fact is, I'm quite unwilling most of the time to just go out and hustle me up some guy to have sex with. I wished it worked that way still, but it doesn't. It used to be that all I had to do was walk out of the house and there was a line around the block of people ready, able and willing to have sex with me. Those days are gone - not so much because the people aren't there anymore, but because I've changed too much to have the energy to play that game most of the time.
When I hire somebody to massage me, knowing full well that they'll get me off at some point during the massage, (or more) the game is on my home court. I'm the one calling the shots and the game is played to my advantage. I'm choosing to take comfort in a way that doesn't require me to get involved in the hunting/courting ritual. I don't have to worry about whether I'm dressed right or whether my hair is looking the way I want it to.
It's all so very simple when the one touching my body is being paid to do it and there's no risk of rejection because I might be too old or too skinny or too white or too gay or not gay enough. He comes, he does his job and he leaves. No questions, no batting of the eyes in the hopes of a conversation, no pounding of the heart wondering if he's "the one."
It's a quid pro quo without conditions; I call him, he comes over, he massages me and gets me off. He wipes me down, I pay him, he gathers his stuff and leaves. Sometimes the simplicity of it all is as important to me as the act itself.
There is no justification for paying for sex. It's a choice that as with all choices, has consequences. The consequences of my paying for a massage and/or sex is that my body & soul are for a moment or two satisfied and I can get on with my life. The hunger to be touched by another man can only be satisfied in one way for me. All of the friends and hobbies and computers in the world can't replace what that touch does for me - and I feel comfortable and happy indulging it.
It's a personal choice that I've made many times over the past many years. It doesn't reflect my morality - it reflects my willingness to take care of myself in a way that in that moment, nobody else can. In the absence of someone to hold me at night or share in the ups and downs of life, it sometimes takes a lot of effort to make sure that I don't start flailing and go under. I have known the exquisite joy of being loved and loving in return. Paying for sex will never equal that or even come close, but it does sometimes make it easier to be without it.
I pay for food, I pay for a home to live in, I pay to put gas in my car, I pay for the electricity that keeps this computer humming and yes, sometimes I pay for sex. Doing so seems to me to be just another one of the many things that I do to make sure that my life is what I want it to be. And that's why I have the word Serenity inked across my shoulders - because I know what it is and I know how to insure that it's always mine.
My serenity isn't defined by another's shoulds and should nots. It's defined by my choices and how well they serve my happiness.
And that my dear David, is truly from my heart to yours.
xox
Tom