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An act of prostitution had been intended on both sides but none had taken place.

What happened actually transcended the prostitution experience: wilful intercourse with zero mental reservations is not prostitution, and could not, to my mind, be framed as such. They roundly agreed that in not taking the money I was: ‘A fuckin’ eejit!

The bald truth was that there was something about this man and this environment that was soothing, relaxing, and seductive.

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The first car that pulled up on my first night back on the streets was driven by a young man in his early to mid-twenties.He was attractive, not disrespectful in his manner and he was shy, quiet, not speaking to me much on the way to the laneway I used.He dropped me back down to the street and then I went to work for real.What happened that night is not something that could be seen as prostitution.Nothing would have felt more unnatural than taking money for something sexual that I’d to happen.

Also I had never had intercourse for money at that point, I had never sold myself in that way, and I didn’t want to be able to say that I had. No doubt he knew something strange had happened but it was easy not to see his expression in the dark.’ The entire company, myself included, burst out laughing.The humor—for those it is lost on—was in the absurdity.The first indicator was that I didn’t feel repulsed, as I always did.His hands were smooth but firm and slow in their movements.I almost never drank on the job and certainly not with a new customer, but for a combination of reasons I broke the rules that night with that man. I have already described how a woman in prostitution knows when she needs to be alert: she also knows when she doesn’t, but because the former situation is by far the most common, in a converse way, situations like this contain more surprise.