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Monday morning, August 23

Randy has a strangely possessive way of touching me. I shouldn't encourage him but I like it. I like that he's nervy and deeply inappropriate -- he seems not to know or care that I think he's unsuitable. Yesterday, I spent much of the day in bed with him -- blinds shut, phone ringer silenced, munching occasionally on fresh fruit and rye crackers. He fucks me with an almost reverential intensity -- and I'm acutely turned on by the feeling that I'm giving him something expensive for free.

As I pointed out to Jasmine, I never feel so irresponsible or generous with Matt: "Why is that?" I wondered.

"Because Matt comes with administrative costs," Jasmine ventured. "You're never going to introduce Randy to your mom or meet his sister. Even if you end up paying when you go out with him -- Randy's a cheap date, emotionally speaking."

Nancy Chan: Diary of a Manhattan Call Girl appears in Health & Body every Monday and Thursday. + About Nancy Chan: Diary of a Manhattan Call Girl -- with links to all episodes to date. + Read the Diary from the start.

"Don't call him that," I objected. "And how do you know I'll never introduce --"

"You're too much of a princess to have a real relationship with Randy. Don't delude him -- keep it light, for God's sake."

Keep it light? Does she really think I can regulate the temperature of Randy's love-making? If I could do that, I wouldn't have spent an entire day travelling between bath and bed in a state of swollen bliss. I was tempted to ask her: When did you last allow a man to fuck you properly? You've obviously forgotten what non-professional sex is like! But I'm too well brought up to say such things, especially when they might be true. Instead, I told her: "Randy's not a john, you know -- I can't just switch my feelings off because they happen to be inconvenient."

Monday afternoon

A call from Spooky. "Do you have a girlfriend who turns you on? Someone who really gets into it?" he asked. My first three-way with Spooky. He's a generous customer so I don't want to blow it by bringing a girl who balks at real sex with another chick. Spooky might be inclined to take a close peek -- just to make sure -- and some girls can't handle that much scrutiny. So I put in a call to Allison's cell phone. When she answered, I heard chaotic street sounds.

"Oh, it's you," she said, churlishly. We hadn't spoken since her outburst on Saturday morning. "I'm late for my manicure."

"I'm just trying to get you some extra business!" I sniped. "Can you do a 3:30 with me?"

"Do you know what Jasmine told me?" Allison demanded indignantly.

"Look, I didn't tell her to start meddling -- you invited her to a meeting yourself! Remember? Don't blame me! Do you want to do this call with me or not?"

She sighed. "A 3:30? At your place?"

"No -- we'll go up to his office together."

Next page | Sexy mirrors -- the bane of my working existence