This week’s guest blogger is an erotic author who got in touch because she wanted to write about a fantasy that doesn’t often get coverage: women paying for sex with guys. A few months ago Anthony, a sex worker, dropped by to write a guest blog on the politics of paying for pleasure with a male escort. This week, Helen J Perry is here to talk about her fantasies about paying for sex.
She’s especially interested to find out if others share similar fantasies (I strongly suspect they do), so please do comment if you can, and if you’d like to read some erotica which is focused around male sex work, check out her book Deviant – which she has kindly dropped to 99p/99 cents on Kindle for this weekend to coincide with this guest blog going live. And if you’d like to read some erotica which is focused around women paying for sex, check out Boxes – by Helen J Perry and Adria Kane.
Paying for sex with strangers: one woman’s fantasy
I like sex with strangers… in my fantasies. It’s my cup of sexy-erotic tea. And a brothel for women is a place my imagination likes to explore.
I was keen to write about this particular fantasy for GOTN because it isn’t discussed much. I wonder if I’m the only woman who has fantasies of paying for sex with strangers.When I read erotica and erotic romance for women, it is often set in the context of a relationship. Women seem to want to know their partners first, even in fantasy. In fact, perhaps this is why I like to read M/M fiction. It’s expected that men will have sex with total strangers, and perhaps romance may blossom afterwards.
One of my favourite scenarios is visiting a fantasy brothel. Here, I am spoilt for choice as Jason, Vin, Gerard and Hugh are all eager to be a part of the action. *Sigh* if only I could afford them all.
You can pinpoint my age (47) by the actors I drool over. A very different sort of action is about to take place in my mind compared to the films they usually act in!
My husband (same age as the eye-candy group but with a bigger belly) is very obliging as an amateur actor in the bedroom. We’ve tried out many scenes in which I am the paying client, and he exists just for my pleasure.
Life often leaves me exhausted so I may simply want to lay back and enjoy. It was out of this reality that we created the fantasy pleasure parlour that features in The Boxes, a free erotica story, co-authored with Adria Kane. I can imagine stopping off at The Boxes, a sexual refueling station, following the supermarket sweep but before the afternoon school run. For twenty minutes, I will lie down for a quickie while a stranger (that I never see) focuses attention solely on my pussy. I have a brief, allocated time slot for my sensual session, but I still hope to achieve multiple orgasms. Shush! I need to concentrate.
I think of The Boxes as a drive-thru, fast-food-style budget-brothel. It works as a fantasy, and it’s great fun to act out, playing either the client or the sex-worker. But the truth is, it doesn’t appeal to me in the cold light of day. Fantasies are just that, fantasies. They aren’t supposed to be real, and many of us don’t want to live them.
We don’t even need to discuss the politics of prostitution here because these events are all in our minds.
Even when I try to escape into make-believe, part of my brain knows that women rarely pay for sex. I can’t suspend the knowledge that brothels for women don’t exist (they definitely don’t, I’ve checked).
So, my mind has demanded I create a fantasy world in which female punters are commonplace. Along comes science fiction, it’s not all aliens and robots you know. In the future, when things are very different, perhaps women will pay for sex. Perhaps there will be specific reasons why they pay for sex and maybe a new species will emerge who are perfectly adept sex-workers. I’ve published quite a few stories in which women are paying clients and in my mind these are always set in a future SF world even if I don’t write it into the final version.
In Deviant, thank goodness my matriarchal dystopia is imaginary. It’s not a nice place. Men are a rare and protected minority; women run the world. There aren’t enough men to go around. For privileged women The West Beach brothel is the only place for lustful pleasures of the flesh with men. I’ve been there, many times in my imagination, sampling its delights. I’d cast Summer Glau or Gemma Arterton in a film of this book. The men could include Logan Lerman, Jake Gyllenhaal, the Hemsworth brothers. Sigourney Weaver would be an excellent Matriarch, running the establishment.
In my imagination, the brothels are a great place for men to work and a fantastic place to visit. Whatever my mood, there will be men there willing to play along.