I hope you will enjoy these posts specifically written for the Capital Punter Blog:
3) “The Girlfriend Experience” by Rebecca Dakin (First installment)
Diary: April 2006
God, I had an absolute nightmare yesterday! I decided that I would check in online for my flight to Venice, giving me a bit more of a lie- in. My flight was at 8.50a.m., and checking in online meant I only needed to be at the gate 30 minutes before. I booked a taxi for 7.45, thinking the traffic wouldn’t be so bad then. How the hell would I know? I never drive that time in the morning. That’s one of the benefits of being an escort – I don’t have to spend hours stuck in rush- hour traffic. Why I didn’t ask my taxi driver what time to set off, I have no idea.
Tuesday night, I had my early night planned; I had packed and watched a bit of telly, so I felt suitably relaxed. I decided I would have a shower and wash my hair at about 9p.m., and go straight to bed. However, my plan was foiled when I found I had no water. I willed myself to keep calm despite this obvious crisis: I knew it wouldn’t be back on by the morning – last time we had a leak, there was no water for 14 hours. Fortunately, I had a good supply of water left from the last time, so I would have to bath and wash in mineral water. How terribly posh! I’m sure some famous people only bath in Evian. So I put the kettle on to boil. I kissed goodbye to my early night, which would now be replaced by boiling the kettle and spending the evening trying to clean, shave my bits and the mammoth job of washing my hair while hanging my head over the bath with a washing-up bowl and jug.
Suddenly there was a spurt of water from my shower, so I dived in and frantically started wetting my hair and trying to put shampoo on it. As the water spluttered to a final stop, I cursed and begged it to come on just a little bit more. It didn’t. Fortunately, the kettle had boiled so I finished washing my hair and shaved in a washing-up bowl that I’d placed in the bath. By the time I dried my hair and got myself ready for bed, it was about 11p.m.
Then there was a knock at the door. I opened it to find the plumbers standing there, saying the water would be back on at about midday. Of course this was absolutely no use to me! Stressed, I went to bed and set my alarm for seven.
I had a bit of a restless night, but got up without any problems. By the time I had washed in the tub again, it was time for the taxi. My driver was concerned to find that my flight was at 8.50, but he promised he would do his best. That was when I started to worry, but in the back of my mind I kept telling myself it would be fine. I couldn’t relax – the traffic was everywhere. It was looking increasingly unlikely that we would make it, so I started making calls to see what other flights were available, but I couldn’t find one that would get me there in time. So much for my leisurely afternoon in Venice! I asked the taxi driver if he would wait and see whether I caught my plane. Fortunately, he said he was able to take me somewhere else, if need be.
I flew through to departures with five minutes to spare, where I was stopped and my luggage hauled off to be inspected – apparently I had too many liquid toiletries. I only had my essentials! There was my eczema cream, Gucci perfume and body lotion, Chanel perfume, shower gel, three travel-sized body lotions, hand cream, my face essentials, vaginal lubrication and massage oil, foundation, lip plump, concealer and tinted moisturiser.
The lady took her time in opening my bags. I tried to keep myself under control and said my flight was leaving. They halved the contents of my toiletries. I ran to the gate and arrived out of breath to be greeted by a bunch of airport staff, who casually informed me the doors were closed and the plane had started its taxi to the runway. Teary-eyed, I made my way back through Security, where the kind lady who had taken her time to search my bag looked at me with pity and said, while handing me the toiletries she had confiscated, ‘Can you go another day?’ ‘Er, no’, I replied.
I quickly walked through to the ticket desk and stopped to ask BMI about flight times; they informed me they didn’t fly there. The only other EasyJet flight was too late. Ryanair had a flight at 3p.m. from East Midlands, but a 12.05 from Stansted. I quickly called and asked my taxi driver if he could get me to Stansted for 11, and he said he could, but the lady at the desk refused to sell me a ticket because she didn’t think I’d catch the plane.
I sprinted out to my taxi anyway, and we set off. Like Anneka Rice on some big mission, I just had to catch this flight otherwise I’d have to get a lift back up to East Midlands for the 3p.m. flight and then I would be late, something I absolutely hate. I was praying my client didn’t call because I didn’t want to worry him unnecessarily.
As time was ticking on, I worried the whole way down but when I called Ryanair they told me the flight was at 12.45, not 12.05 as I had been told at the airport, so I did have plenty of time when I arrived. I just prayed there was still availability and not too much of a queue at the sales desk; I just wanted to be able to relax. I felt knackered as I’d been up since seven, and then stressing and travelling ever since. I felt dirty because I hadn’t been able to have a proper shower; I just didn’t feel my best; I only hoped I could relax when I arrived and be good company.
I got the ticket, and chastised myself for being so laid-back about getting to the airport in the first place. I had just lost £320 of my earnings – the flight was £220, and the taxi £100. As you can see, I’m more like Bridget Jones than Belle de Jour!
I managed to get a card to give to Roberto (my date) and a magazine before running to the gate to board my flight. Hot and flustered, I must have looked like a madwoman. I had walked so much, and I was tired and frustrated, yet I couldn’t sleep at all on the plane because I was still winding down from all the stress. Once we’d taken off, I went straight to the ladies’ to apply some make-up to try and make myself look a little bit glamorous. It certainly wasn’t how I felt!
Finally, I arrived in central Venice ten minutes before I was due to meet him – I’d been travelling for over eight hours. I nipped into a chemist, looked at their small selection of fragrances and picked one as a present for my date. I always like to take a gift when I’m travelling abroad to see someone, or if I’m seeing someone for a few days. I called Roberto and he said that he would wait outside the bar where we had agreed to meet. I suggested he went inside and ordered a drink for us both.
Then I switched into work mode, put a big smile on my face and put my stress behind me. It’s not about pretending to be someone else – I’m still me, but a focused me. Like a director of a company who has to do a presentation – no matter how stressful their day has been, or whatever personal problems they have, they put it all aside and do their job. I go over my little mantra in my head: ‘I am confident, happy, sexy, stress-free Bea!’ It’s about changing my frame of mind. As soon as I walk into the bar, my date is my focus and it’s all about how he feels, and how I make him feel: it’s not about me.
He was average looking, very tall and skinny, with dark hair, and he was around my age. He hadn’t ordered drinks. I told him about my nightmare of a day, and we talked about Venice and his family. He seemed a really nice guy and very politely complimented me on my looks. Well, I think it was a compliment. He said, ‘Wow!’ It could have been, ‘Wow, you look rough!’, or ‘Wow, you whiff a bit!’ or even, ‘Wow, you don’t look as good as your photos’!
We waited about half an hour before we got a drink. I must have looked like an alcoholic – all I could think was how desperately I needed a glass of wine! He asked if I was hungry, and as he hadn’t booked a table until 9p.m., and I hadn’t managed to eat much, I decided to have something. So, we ordered a platter to share. He delicately picked at bits of bread and meat, while I tried to make full- on sandwiches with Parma ham and cheese. The ham kept sticking in my teeth – so much for trying to be sophisticated! I was starting to relax and was confident we would have a nice evening. He didn’t rush me at all, and we stayed until about 7p.m. before making the move to his flat. It was quite old, full of antique furniture and mismatched random things. He then informed me that his brother was also staying – I wondered what he had told him about me.
I wanted to have a shower, but when I saw the Jacuzzi it seemed like a much better option, as it would help me to relax. In his room I gave him his present, and he was thrilled. We sat on his bed and he leaned in to kiss me. I wanted to be clean before I did anything, so I wasn’t very responsive, but suggested we share a bath. It must have taken over half an hour to fill up; disappointingly, it wasn’t hot. I stripped off and he just kept saying ‘Wow!’ so I think it was all good. He stripped off too, and we both got in. I ran my hands over his back, and we caressed each other and kissed, then I started wanking him in the water. After a brief few minutes he came and then hosed me down with the shower. So that was a quick session!
I wore my new giraffe-print dress, with a black cardigan and tan shoes. I was pleased to see that he made the effort and wore a suit. I didn’t know what to expect for dinner, but he said his friend had recommended this place and that it was high up and had views over Venice. When we arrived at the 5-star hotel I was impressed – it seemed this would be a bit special. The room was candlelit, with soft music playing. It was very romantic. One side of the restaurant was all glass, looking out over Venice.
We spent the next three hours eating and chatting. He said he had never seen any English girls before, and that he was pleasantly surprised that I wasn’t like the Eastern European party girls he saw, who wanted to be out drinking and clubbing all night. After the day I’d just had, there wasn’t much chance of that!
The food was delicious. We had strawberry champagne cocktails with various canapés. I asked him if he liked English food, and he said he didn’t think there was any. All I could come up with was cottage pie! When I saw crumble on the dessert menu, I suggested he tried it. Thankfully, he really enjoyed it and, satisfied, we both left at midnight. Back at his flat I met his brother and I was impressed with his good looks (a threesome would be nice, I thought). He was shorter, with glasses; a bit geeky, but in a kind of sexy way, and he wasn’t skinny, just in proportion. Roberto joked that his brother would have to inspect me. Yes, please! He was only 22, and was finishing his medical degree.
After a few minutes we left his brother to his studying. Roberto then got me a glass of water, but I suddenly became paranoid he might have put something in it, so I paused and just looked at it. He knew what I was thinking because he said, ‘It’s not poisonous, you know’ and took a swig. I just had to check.
In his room we stripped off, dimmed the lights and I went down on him. Then we swapped around. It felt gorgeous, but unfortunately he didn’t do it for long. He got one of his own condoms and slipped it on. I climbed on top of him and ground away for a short while, looking at him in my best sexy way. We then changed to missionary and I wrapped my legs around him really tightly, while nudging his hips down with my feet, holding him tightly while kissing and nibbling his neck. This seemed to do the trick and he came pretty quickly.
I asked him if he could play with my boobs while I used my toy because I was turned on and a bit tipsy! He was thrilled at the idea and I came in about a minute. He made a point of saying how much he enjoyed watching me play with myself – and he was still hard after we finished, so I went down on him again. He enjoyed it for a few minutes and then said he needed to take five minutes’ rest. That brought me back to reality, and I suggested we wait until the morning. Thankfully, he agreed, as it was now past 1a.m.I had to leave at 10.45a.m., so when he offered to set the alarm for 9.30 the following morning, I thought ‘perfect’!
I kissed him goodnight, thanked him for a lovely evening and hoped I would get a good night’s sleep. But I needn’t have worried as he didn’t snore and kept to his side of the bed. It seemed really late when the alarm finally went off, but it was 9.30a.m. I figured we had about 30 minutes to play.
In the morning it’s generally a quicker session, so I just started giving him a blow job. He enjoyed this for a while before saying in his sexy voice, while gently pulling me away, ‘I waaaaant a beeeeet of pussy.’ Phwoar! I passed him a condom to put on. He lay behind me and groped my breasts while sliding inside me. He had his hands free, one of which was very gently rubbing my pussy. Then he wanted doggy-style, which I like because he could go nice and deep. I glanced up at him through the mirror over his bed, and he was looking at me and getting off on watching us. Eventually he took the condom off, I poured lubricant in between my breasts and he quickly climaxed in between them.
Unfortunately there really wasn’t time to hug and relax, so I asked him for a cuppa and dived into the shower. Once I was ready, I barely had time to drink my tea, which had gone cold, before setting off for the airport.
2) STI Clinics
When I first commenced my blog, in one of my very first posts (“Punter etiquette”) I mentioned how I believe Punters should also be checked out at an STI Clinic on a regular basis too.
My argument is this: would us gents wish to see a lady who we know was never checked out? The answer would probably be for most of us a definite “no”! Surely then, this cuts both ways, doesn’t it?
I am sure there are many reasons why guys would not do so, including “lack of time”, embarrassment, not knowing where to go to be seen and ignorance over what is involved.
In order to demystify what is involved, I asked a very good lady friend of mine to give her insight into the process. This is what she had to say:
I have been getting tested now every month for the past few years. It’s one of them things that is a pain in the arse to do on a regular basis and can be time consuming. However everyone should take their health seriously, as I do.
NHS GUM clinics are easy to find. I’m sure most towns provide family planning clinics, just have a look on your local hospitals website.
From my experience I have found some are friendlier than others. I go to an NHS clinic which is quite far away from my house, however I know the staff now and always get treated with respect. You could say the nurse who does my swabs is one my friends. I always find I am there a lot longer than expected. Not because i am waiting around, but because we are usually chatting!
I have visited private clinics before in London, but they are quite expensive and i find they charge extra for a lot of swabs and if you wanted to have Hepatitis injections (again something which i think is really important) then they will charge extra for these. I have usually paid between £150-£200 for a regular check-up. The results are usually back within 3 working days, compared to NHS which is anywhere between 7 days to 2 weeks.
Most clinics work the same way. You will either make an appointment or they will have a ‘walk in service’ which is great as you can just turn up. However i have found with walk in services it’s best to get there as early as possible as they can get very busy and if it’s close to closing time and they have a lot of people waiting still they may turn you away.
A member of staff will call you into the doctor. You will tell them if you have any concerns or any symptoms.
You will then sit back in the waiting room and wait for a nurse to call you in. When you do get called in the nurse will pull the curtain round and ask you to take off your trousers and knickers and to lay on the bed placing the paper towel over your modesty. She will then place a clamp inside you to open you up (don’t worry it sounds worse than it is) and she will take about 3 swaps from different areas. It doesn’t hurt; a couple of swabs can feel a little stingy. But usually they are really quick. If you have anal sex she will do a swab from the rectum.
After this she will ask you to put your clothes back on and to sit back down. She will then take some bloods from you to test for HIV and Syphilis. I’m not a great fan of blood been taken but then who is? I’m afraid it’s something which doesn’t get any easier for me and i always look away when the needle is put in.
After this she will ask you to open your mouth and she will take a swab from the back of your mouth. The whole process probably takes about 10 minutes (if you don’t gas as much as me that is!)
All of the nurses are very professional. There is never any reason to get embarrassed. Don’t forget they see this hundreds of times and nothing fazes them.
Most clinics will ask you would like any free condoms. Mine also supplies lubricant.
I will then get a text message telling me my results within 7 days. If there were any problems with the results they would just give you a call and ask you to go back and talk about the next step, depending on what STI you had. Again please don’t feel ashamed if you do have something, it’s best that you know to get it treated as soon as possible.
I think anyone having sexual intercourse with different partners should get tested on a regular basis. I understand people have commitments and can’t go every month, but i think once every 3 months is sufficient. Please do ask for a throat swab as i have heard that some clinics don’t just do them. Gonorrhoea in the throat is more common than you may think.
Thank you very much to Lady C for this informative and valuable insight!
I am sure we all want to enjoy safe and healthy Punting, so I wholeheartedly endorse LADY C’s comments and firmly recommend everyone getting checked out on a regular basis. I, for one, shall be making a visit shortly.
Treatment can be gained for free on the NHS or paid for through a private clinic. See the links below.
For further information, look at the following websites:
Private clinic examples
1) The UK and USA compared: The view of a US Hobbyist
I have had the pleasure of getting to know Capital Punter, first through our respective Twitter feeds and then through his wonderfully comprehensive and informative blog. My fellow punter, or “hobbyist” as we Americans call it, asked me to consider a guest post on his blog and I was more than happy to oblige. I have already started to blog on a guest basis for Geisha Diaries (www.geishadiaries.com) and I must say that the writing bug has captured me … almost as much as meeting intoxicating GFE escorts!
For this guest post, I thought it most useful for this UK audience to comment on the differences between seeing escorts in the States as opposed to seeing them overseas — London in particular. I have seen one lovely escort in London, so I have a limited random sample with which to compare my five years of seeing escorts in the States. So here goes:
Punting/hobbying is a crime in the States, but perfectly legal in the UK.
There was a peace of mind I enjoyed as I was making my way to the Earl’s Court neighborhood last fall to see a special lady. No worries over walking into a law enforcement (LE) trap. No worries over a possible arrest marring my real world life. I love seeing escorts, but the clandestine nature of it all sometimes gets a bit wearying. That clandestine nature owes itself to many factors, not least the social notoriety, but getting arrested tends to focus one’s mine. How refreshing, then, to be able to agree to see a lady where the fact that we are going to have sex is an open fact and neither of us have to disguise it through such euphemisms as “I am only paying for her time and companionship” or “My payment is not in exchange for any sexual services.”
That said, I don’t worry too much over the LE issue in the States either. Vice squads focus their limited time and resources on 1) streetwalkers – those ladies who advertise their wares at the closest red light and 2) large agencies, where a bust can yield multiple arrests and indictments on money trafficking. Since I almost exclusively see high-end luxury independent ladies — the type of women who escort on the side as a supplement to their real world jobs and largely operate out of four star and five star hotels — I have never encountered any LE concerns. That said, it’s nice to see an escort in a country where LE concerns are not a consideration at all.
Which Means UK Escorts are More Open About What Their Services Can Include
Despite the wide prevalence of reviews, it is still often a guessing game when you see an escort in the States. You are not quite sure if she will offer a full GFE session, if deep French kissing will be on the menu, and other various acts and positions will be available. This is likely due to many reasons, but I can’t help but assume that ladies are being smart and not openly advertising explicit services because they do not want to provide an easy roadmap for a future prosecutor to employ. As I scan the ads of UK-based providers, I see a greater willingness on their part to describe what it is they are open to engaging. That type of honesty is refreshing, and it makes it easier for me to choose an escort who will meet my expectations.
But The Similarities Greatly Outnumber any Differences
Despite all this, I have been struck by how similar the escort scenes in the U.S. and the UK really are. You have your escort review boards; we have ours (The Erotic Review is the largest and most popular American version. (www.theeroticreview.com)) Many ladies in the U.S. like to affiliate themselves with agencies, in part to divorce themselves from administrative and scheduling hassles; others prefer to control their business directly and feature themselves as independent ladies. Same holds true in the UK, as best I can see. Finally, you have the same divide here as in the UK in terms of ladies who offer a straight-up exchange of sexual services vs. those ladies who seek to create a more personal, more intimate “GFE” session. All in all, we really are not all that different!
Hope you have enjoyed my musings. If you would like more, feel free to follow me on Twitter at @dchobbyist And, finally, if CP will indulge me, I will be visiting London on a business trip in mid-June. If there are any lovely London-based escorts who provide a genuine GFE rendezvous and love to kiss, please, by all means, don’t hesitate to get in touch! I’m looking for some naughty adventures to spice up my otherwise boring business meetings ….
With sincere thanks to DC Hobbyist for a fascinating comparison and, of course, I am always happy to indulge a fellow Punter / Hobbyist! Capital Punter