On feedback

I’ve always been a little ambivalent about review culture. This may be the age of Uber ratings and Trip Advisor stars, but when it comes to something as subjective as desire, overly-simplistic definitions of ‘positive’ vs ‘negative’ seem wholly inadequate. This uncertainty prevails in parts of the adult industry, with colleagues of mine have written far more eloquently than me about their decisions to no longer accept official reviews. However, for me, personal feedback on what works (and sometimes, what doesn’t), can be a valuable thing. What’s more, affirmation of a really thrilling connection never fails to make me flush with a combination of personal and professional satisfaction. I’m also aware that information of this nature can be valuable to those seeking further information before getting in touch with a professional. With this is mind (and obviously with permission), I wanted to share a follow-up email a client sent me after a recent meeting. I was touched to receive such a warm message of thanks from someone venturing into this kinky domain for the first time, and also felt the author’s insight might be reassuring to others. Over to J, and with copious thanks:

“So I’m deep into watching Amazon’s ‘Girlfriend Experience’, onto Season 2 actually, when it suddenly hits me. A quick google search of ‘GFE London’ generates a whole new world that I never thought was this easily accessible. After the first few plastic websites, I’m drawn to Louisa’s world and I confess not to go any further. I’m forever enslaved!

During this first visit to her website, I just browse and explore. I’m obviously intrigued, impressed and very turned on but never really believing that this is ever going to happen for me – no, never ever! The mind works in mysterious ways however, and at work the next day, I’m there again – don’t worry, I was discreet – browsing from behind the safety of the toilet stalls.

It doesn’t take me long to click the ‘contact’ link and fill out the brief form conveying my interest in her services. Before I know it, Alice is in touch to set out a date for us. Louisa’s a busy lady and it takes an assistant to manage her diary. Alice is always professional, courteous and it feels very much like setting a dentist’s appointment, with the exception that this is way more exciting and way way less scary.

There’s a phone call with Louisa first and I anxiously wait to call her. I’ve booked a conference room at work for this on an altogether different floor where no one knows me (hopefully). She tells me not to worry about taking notes and I put my pen and notebook aside. I can still remember the ease with which she laughs, the soft chuckle in her voice, and I’m hooked.

I’ll confess that a week before our date, I chicken out and ask to move the appointment. The simple human inside me had been contemplating the pros and cons, finally concluding that treating myself to a Scotty Cameron instead would be a more fulfilling, practical and longer term solution to this mid-life crisis I was going through. When a week later, the said putter refused to even perform at the shortest of distances, I know that the filthy human inside me was and will always be right.

On the day itself, I’m early, as expected. I realise now that this was not a frigging job interview and I did not have to showcase my strong sense of punctuality by contacting her ten minutes before time. She didn’t seem to mind.

I’m also unprepared for the ‘what do you do’ introductory question she asks me and I blabber something that made us both laugh. That happened a lot during our time together, us laughing. It made my interaction with her so relaxed and I felt very much at ease throughout. Before the session, funnily enough I was more worried about the shower logistics than anything else. Where will my clothes be when I go for the shower? How do I come out with a tower wrapped around my flabby waist, running around hunting for my clothes in her apartment? Needless to say, it was all much more practical and easy when it actually happened. I came out fully dressed, minty fresh and smelling of her peachy shower gel (I confess not to remember which shower gel was present, but it sure felt peachy!).

Discovering her secret treasures was an ‘out of body’ experience for me, that’s the only way to describe it. She was just so beyond all my expectations. I left her apartment a changed man learning a very important lesson: never dish out what you can’t take back! I’ve already booked our next date with her.”

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