This is an extended profile about me. It is mostly fact.
I am a prostitute, a working lady, a whore, call me what you like. I service men and women for a living. That is what I do. If you don't like what I do then tough!
But first a little about myself that might help to explain my attitude to life and my work.
I'm in my mid thirties and a single mother of one, my ten year old son Zac.
I never knew my parents. I was born and have lived all my life in Australia.
I was raised a Catholic and it was the nuns in the local convent who looked after me from a tender age. They clothed and fed me, saw to my education and made sure I had a roof over my head. There were other children like myself under their care. We were little more than slaves to these servants of the Lord. Each day began early with a communal breakfast, then tasks such as cleaning and washing was followed by school. Discipline was harsh and there were regular beatings from the nuns if we transgressed their strict code of conduct.
I became the favourite of Sister Jerome. She was easily twenty years my senior and when I was old enough, and stopped wetting my bed at night, I was invited into her chamber and her bed. On these occasions she wore a dowdy old nightdress. She had short, grey hair. Her arms, legs and body were thin. I suppose she was quite pretty in a strange kind of way. She had very high cheek bones that made her look rather stunning. At night, she was really quite different from the proud Sister of Mercy I knew during the day, dressed in her formal wear.
She would order me to remove my pyjamas and would undress in front of me. I used to marvel at her huge sagging breasts which seemed so out of proportion to the rest of her lithe body, and compare them to my tiny newly forming boobs. I would compare her thinning grey pubic hair that hardly hid her labia to the dark tuft of hair that was growing between my legs hiding all my nether regions. I don't know if she used to reminisce of what her young body may have been like when she touched me, but her long, bony fingers ran over my naked body awakening me to the various sensations that I began to enjoy. She took care of my sanitary needs and each month made a big deal out of the fact that I was having my period by placing a big red cross on her wall calendar, marking the day that each period began. I think it was to remind me that I was now a woman.
In the eyes of the Church, my sex education was complete and all I needed to know had been passed onto me. So years later when I reached university; boys, condoms, contraception etc. were totally alien to me. There was so much to learn and so little time in which to learn it. I made a few new friends, both male and female, in my English 1 class but my naivety was always the butt of their jokes.
I didn't mind, I had met Sean.
Sean was a giant of a man. He was huge. I barely came up to his shoulder and I could easily hide under his armpit if I wanted to. He had tattoos on his arms, legs and back. He had long red hair that was tied back in a ponytail, and a beard that made him look like an actor out of a Viking movie. He wasn't the university type. He was an electrician. I first saw him in the University Library, where the company he worked for was doing some rewiring.
I was in love. In hindsight I was also very naive. I always found a seat in the Library near to where he was working and I would just sit and stare at him with a stupid smile on my face. Occasionally he would climb down off his ladder to get more tools and wink at me as he passed my desk. He had the cutest bum. Eventually our communications progressed to using words. He had an Irish accent which made me weak at the knees every time he spoke. I was so in love, I was speechless when he came over to where I was sitting and whispered in my ear. "Would you like to come for a drink on Friday night after work."
I immediately regretted eating all those chocolates the other night and knew they would feed the zits that were already forming on my forehead. On Thursday night I washed my hair and my jeans then took out my favourite AC/DC fake t-shirt and laid them all on my bed ready to wear the next day.