‘Women are putting male escorts on retainers’: Why more women are paying for sex
By Lauren Ironmonger
December 13, 2024 — 10.00am

Samuel Hunter has been working as an escort since 2020 when he wasn’t certain there would even be demand for his work. Hunter, which is the pseudonym he uses for work, is 45 and – in his own words – has a “dad bod”. At the time, friends – including female sex workers – told him there wasn’t a big enough market of straight women looking for his services.

“I wasn’t in a great mental health space, especially body image-wise. When I went to advertise, every other guy on the site was a lot younger than me. So, I was like ‘why would someone book me if that’s what I offer?’” he says.

But in the past four years, Hunter has found this simply isn’t true. The Sydney-based escort works independently and has a busy roster of clients, mostly aged between 40 and 65, with a few on either side of that spectrum. Almost all are single women, and most are regular clients seeking what is often referred to as the “boyfriend experience”.

“I think I got quite busy because if you didn’t want that six-pack young dude, there wasn’t necessarily a great deal of choice,” he says.

Historically, male escorts, particularly those who service women clients, have not been particularly visible. Culturally, representations are few and far between, from the spectacular (Magic Mike) to the heartfelt (Good Luck to You, Leo Grande) and the brooding (American Gigolo).

Dr John Scott, a professor at Queensland University of Technology who has been researching sex work for the past few decades, says the internet has played a major role in the increasing visibility of male escorts. Women’s growing financial independence and changing sexual mores have also contributed.

Escorts like Hunter, who advertises his services on social media and via his website, have provided a safe and confidential avenue for women to access sex work. Platforms like OnlyFans, a subscription-based service popular with sex workers, and TikTok, have also provided avenues for male escorts to promote their work.

Still, we don’t know much about how many male escorts there are in Australia. One 2018 survey, co-authored by Scott, suggested that a quarter of Australia’s 516 male sex workers catered to women and couples.

But unlike women, trans and LGBTQ sex workers, Scott says men face less stigma, in part due to the social and political capital they hold, but also because they’re more likely to work independently than as part of an agency or brothel.

“Men have always been more inclined to get involved in the escorting market, so you could, in that sense, it’s been less exploitative than, say, female sex work. Certainly, the police weren’t cracking down on male sex workers unless it was associated with homosexuality,” he says.

Hunter says there are myriad reasons women come to him. For many, it’s the convenience. Safety is another big motivator.

“These women have big, full lives, and they just want that intimacy with someone who they know is safe and fun and can fulfil their needs.”

Hunter’s fees start at $1000 for two hours, but he says his most common booking is for four hours ($1600), which is his preferred choice for first-time meetings. He runs most of his sessions out of his home in Sydney but will also travel for an additional fee.

One of the biggest misconceptions, he says, is that his work revolves purely around the act of sex itself.

“Definitions of sex are very different to people, and really it’s just about intimacy,” he says.

Most of Hunter’s sessions will start with a cocktail and some conversation, but “while sex and all its variations is on the cards, it’s never a requirement,” he says. Consent, on the other hand, is always part of the discussion.

In his experience, many women have never even had conversations about consent with sexual partners, and so “oftentimes don’t really know how to answer”, he says.

“I love that I provide a safe space for women to explore their sexuality ... though the flip side of this is the heartbreak and frustration that so many women haven’t had the space to do this previously.”

For his part, Hunter says his work has helped him feel more “secure about my body image ... as well as giving me plenty of opportunities to explore aspects of sex and sexuality I’d not explored in my personal life”.

Sexual wellness

Anna Grosman founded Her Confidant in February this year, a male escort agency catering to women. While based in Melbourne, the agency also has escorts working in Sydney and Perth.

Grosman sees her business as being more in line with the wellness world than the traditional sex industry – something reflected in the growing sexual wellness movement that puts women’s pleasure at the centre of their wellbeing.

“Women are putting male escorts on retainers – just like you would go and have your hair done once a week or once a fortnight ... it’s really an overall mind, body and soul wellness experience,” she says.

The language used in Her Confidant’s marketing indicates this, too – male escorts are called “companions”, and their profiles include details about their favourite music and movies. Some even include snippets of escort’s voices, a nod to the growing popularity of audio erotica among women.

Grosman also sees the growing popularity of male escorts as a reflection of the lack of options available to women seeking heterosexual relationships.

“It’s another form of dating,” she says.

“They’ve either been divorced, or they’re single, and they don’t really want to be living with a male as such, but they still require intimacy every so often.”

Services offered by Her Confidant range from a 20-minute coffee meeting ($200) through to a sleepover ($3000) and week-long companionship ($20,000). Escorts receive 50 per cent of this fee.

Prospective escorts are put through a rigorous vetting process, which includes a police check, health check, 35-question questionnaire, interview and trial.

Bokeem, who uses an alias, is an escort with the agency. He agrees that his work is about far more than sex itself, but about creating a safe space for the clients, many of whom have experienced sexual trauma.

“I lean into mindfulness practices and breathwork. Often, I’ll invite people to just lie down and join me in a breathwork, and it’s not something that’s very structured,” he says.

“I’m constantly asking, does it feel good? Are you happy? Do you feel safe?”

Sarah, a woman in her 50s who is choosing to keep her real name private, sought the services of a male escort through Her Confidant after the end of a long marriage – the last decade of which she says was without intimacy.

“I was very scared to be intimate with a man after so long. I feared my body had forgotten how to have sex, and I had lost so much confidence in my body, even though I was fit,” she says. “I contemplated seeking a one-night stand with a man, but I was very scared for my safety and nervous to use an app.”

She wants to see the stigma women face in seeking sex work removed.

“It has never historically been questioned for men. Women should be able to explore these services with no sense of shame. Women’s pleasure should be a right,” she says.

NDIS, sex and disability

Women living with a disability can face additional stigmatisation, as well as barriers in accessing the various kinds of care that are important for wellbeing. In October, the National Disability Insurance Scheme (NDIS) removed sex work from its funding.

Hunter got into the industry after a life-changing motorcycle accident and has worked as a disability support worker and as an advocate for Touching Base, a volunteer-run organisation that connects people with disability and sex workers.

“Someone with a disability is not broken,” he says. “We need to step away from the medical model of disability and embrace the social model, where the person is not the problem, not providing accessibility to the full diversity of the human experience is the problem.”

Priya, a disabled woman in her 40s who chose to use a pseudonym, has been seeing Hunter for the past few years.

“Before seeing Samuel [Hunter], the act of touching towards me was only medical, or as a client needing care and in a clinical rehabilitation environment,” she says. “I never saw myself as a sexually desirable woman by anyone.”

But seeing Hunter has changed this.

Priya was upset to see the NDIS’ decision to remove sex work from its coverage.

“I was gutted and so deflated. It was like, ‘OK, disabled people don’t matter.’ It felt dehumanising,” she says.

Simone, another client who also chose to use a pseudonym, sees Hunter every few months. The 39-year-old has cerebral palsy and says that the experience has helped her “define what the truth is about sex and what isn’t”.

“For me, it’s about being seen as a sexual and desired woman. That’s very rare. I don’t experience that kind of human touch organically. I often have to verbally ask someone, which is quite embarrassing, but with escorts, that’s normally their basic request.”

Depending on her mood, Simone says each date looks different – ranging from cuddling to massages and kissing to “spicing things up” more.

Simone says she’s fortunate to be in a stable financial position and stopped using the NDIS some time ago for privacy reasons. But she feels for those in more precarious financial positions.

“Sex is a basic human need ... I believe this action goes against what the NDIS was designed for – to give the disability community power and choice. Instead, it’s punishing us for wanting to be sexual beings.”

Source: https://www.brisbanetimes.com.au/lifestyle/...002-p5kfdl.html

Mohon platform for Malaysia , I nak kerja ni

Adeline sister your first customer

ada dad body tak and age 40 above

If u can nail super rich clients like Bik Mama,ok la.