Evie Foxwell – Escort

What is(was) your professional/stage/working name?

Evie Foxwell

What city(ies) do you work in now (if you’re still working), or did you work in (if no longer working in the sex industry)?

London, England, is my current base, though I travel both nationally and internationally.

How old are you now? 25

At what age did you engage in your first professional sexual experience?

24

Describe your first professional sexual experience, including what happened, how you felt, what you were thinking, how you felt afterward.

I had fantasized about sex work for years, and something finally clicked inside me to go pursue it. I spent a full weekend glued to the internet, and within a few days I had a rudimentary site, a home-made gallery and a new phone. I started putting up ads, and for the first few days I had no genuine calls. Then a genuine man who had been seeing WGs for years rang me up. He was courteous on the phone, and perhaps his experience made him more aware of what to expect in terms of my requirements for information and scheduling.

So I took the booking, which was scheduled for 1 hour in the afternoon 2 days from then at his hotel in Central London. The entire call must have taken about 2 minutes to arrange and was over before I realized that ‘wow I am really going through with it!’  My virgin session.

I bought some new clothes, a black pencil skirt and a cardigan, and a set of lingerie. He confirmed that morning as I requested, giving me the hotel details to check beforehand. I’ll be honest and say I couldn’t work up the nerve to call the hotel and make sure he was there! I was going to go have sex with a stranger, but I couldn’t phone the front desk. I had fortunately found a forum for escorts the week before, and gladly had made a friend who acted as my security buddy. She talked to me on the phone the walk to the hotel and would be waiting for my call when I’d be paid and was safe, and then again when I was out.

The first thing I encountered was that the hotel entrance was tucked away and I was glad I showed up early as the walk took longer than expected. I brought out my filofax, and in my pencil skirt and cardi must have looked like a distressed secretary. I thought ‘if anyone enquires why I’m there I can say I’m going to see my boss’ When I got lost and a gentleman smoking a cigarette asked me if I was ok, I replied my boss had summoned me. He laughed and called him a taskmaster. I giggled at that and wondered if he had me sussed out already.

I got to the lobby, and shuffled through the entry which fortunately was A) Busy with pensioners on a bus tour break and B) had the lifts in full plain sight. It was still Check in/Check out time. I was terrified I’d be stopped by security, despite the fact that in every hotel I’ve been to this has never happened. But now was different, I was there for work and had a full selection of condoms and a big bottle of Durex lube in my bag. I had a man waiting to greet me and red silk against my skin.

I found the floor and knocked. The maids were still making up some other rooms. I found the room and realized I was still 10 minutes early. I pace down the hall to look out the window (I could see the Thames) and then took a big breath and knocked on the door. No one answered. Bugger! Maybe he was still in the bathroom. I knocked a second time. I glanced down the hall to see the maid coming along and scurried back to my window to check my schedule ‘He had said 2 right?? Room xxx? Oh Lord am I actually in the right hotel???’ I called him and his phone went to voice mail. Crap, that’s what it is, I’ve been stitched up. He’s in there watching me and sniggering to himself. I tried knocking once more.

Just then a gentleman of middle age came rushing down the hall, looking embarrassed. He thought I might want a glass of wine and had rushed down to get us a bottle of chilled white. His phone hadn’t picked up I suppose because he was in the lift. We exchanged a sheepish glance and then I chided ‘YOU my dear are SO naughty!’ And in we went. The room was nice, and so was the gentleman. He had my money waiting in an envelope, and was more than polite and friendly. Fortunately, my nerves had actually overwhelmed me in the hallway while I had panicked, and now like a fever had broken. Introductions and chatter followed, but when he handed me the envelope to count my body wracked with shakes again and I think my hands were noticeably trembling.

Sometimes when I’m nervous I try to smooth it over by being jocular and making the other person laugh, I’m still a big shy class clown I guess, so despite this I was probably sat in his lap 5 minutes later snogging his head off. I was less nervous of actually having sex with him then I was of making a bad impression. This was my big debut and by god I wasn’t going to fart or smell bad or what not. Once we started going it fell into place. When he lay back on the bed to let me undress him and give him oral I felt in control, and became more dominant, pushing him back and telling him to let me take charge of the situation (which he did). I felt free to tease and lick and suck him, and he relaxed beneath me and let me have my way.

It didn’t actually feel any different than with any boyfriend or fling. I am a natural giver, and giving pleasure makes me feel rather powerful, so seeing him there before me and watching him react to my tongue was incredibly thrilling. Suffice it to say my nerves evaporated quick:) He eventually managed to get me onto my back and proceeded to lick and tease me as revenge, which I can honestly say was skillfully done. I won’t elaborate more deeply:)

The sex itself was actually excellent. Followed it with a second dalliance in the shower, which I lost myself in, soaping him up with the complimentary little shower gel, rubbing his back, before getting on my knees before him, with the water running down his stomach.

Though I was clever enough to tie my hair back to avoid the drowned rat look, I was NOT clever enough to wear waterproof mascara, so I came out looking like Ozzy Osbourne. There was something remarkably enlivening about looking up at him with his sighs in the air and the warm water and his semen running down my cheeks. More than anything, I felt rather happy, and giddy the way you are after you walk out of the doctors office having taken your medicine and found it easy as can be (after fretting in the waiting room). Endorphins.

He must have been happy too, because he asked me to return that evening for a second hour after he finished a meal with his coworkers.

During our encounter he asked how long I’d been an escort, and when I said ‘to be honest this is my first time.’  But I don’t think he believed me.

I got my things together and bade him farewell, promising to return that evening for our second date.

I strode through reception with an air of extreme confidence and the cat-who-gets-the-cream cheshire grin of a girl who had just been well fucked, for a good fee, and had loved it.

At what age did you entertain the first (serious) thoughts of going into sex work?

Honestly, maybe 17. I can’t quite say where I got the idea, but I know it was something which has been present in my mind for many years before actually entering the industry. At one point I had even emailed agencies in Amsterdam to inquire about what its all about (This when I was in the US, I was naive ) I also joined a forum for Dutch escorts to try and absorb some info, but it wasn’t much help. I put it out of mind for awhile, and it began popping up again some time later.

What made you decide to enter the line of work you’re in?

I can’t place where precisely I first learned about prostitution, but I know from teenage years thinking about it gave me a sense of excitement, power and arousal. I’ve always believed in owning my sexuality. I must have absorbed the stories of courtesans in olden times, women who owned their sexuality and were audacious and confident and independent.

At first my interest in…shall we say ‘illicit sexuality’, or ‘the badgirl part of me’ had been fulfilled by dancing in strip clubs both in the US and the UK, from quite sleazy and downmarket where it is all nipple sucking and grinding, right up to the upmarket clubs where the 3 foot rule is unbreakable. I did that off and on. I loved the effect I could have on men and I loved the freedom of working when I wanted, with who I wanted, how I wanted and where.

When the money was good it was great, and I loved being up on the pole with my Rolling Stones and my dresses that slipped right off. The one issue was I always fancied going further, I wanted to earn the money that other ladies did doing extras and I wanted to touch my customers during dances. When I was drunk on champagne I’d lose myself in the moment, but I never broke the club rules, I was too scared of getting caught, and what gossip would get spread.

When the recession started to bite the competition got fierce, the girls got nasty, the customers got scarce and the job stopped being fun. When I finally decided to make a change and go for what I really wanted and had desired for sooo long, I dropped the club and the heels in a big heap, and decided to just go for it and finally stop pardon the phrase, pussy footing around and actually become an escort. Really it turns out the thing that delayed me so long was just not knowing how to go about the business side of things.

2 weeks later I had had my first professional experience.

What do you enjoy most about your work?

Cliche, but I really enjoy the people I meet. I’ve been blessed to have from the start some of the nicest clients and gentlemen who have always treated me with courtesy and kindness, and whose company I have always enjoyed.

What do you like the least about your work?

Doing so much laundry! That one I hadn’t expected.

Does your family know what you do? If so, what do they think?

Some members of my family do and some do not. Those who do, are supportive yet cautious and those who do not would not understand or be able to quantify/process the situation.

How much longer do you think you’ll do what you’re doing now, and what are your plans for when you quit? If you’ve already left, what made you decide to leave and what did you decide to do for work when you left?

I see myself working as I do now for a number of years, I’ve certainly no plans to quit nor any intention of doing so in the foreseeable future. I could happily carry on past gray-hairs and a hip replacement.

If you had to go back and tell your younger self (mid to late teens) that you’d be doing what you’re doing now (assuming you’re still working in the sex industry), what do you think your younger self would say about it?

My younger self would be fascinated that I’d actually plucked up and done it after all and would most likely be very excited, asking a thousand questions.

What advice would you give someone who was looking to get into your line of sex work?

I would say educate yourself, do your research both into the industry and into health matters. Educate yourself and be really sure that you are emotionally fit and healthy, and look after yourself. And once you’ve set your boundaries, stick to them.

Evie’s Professional Site:  Evie Foxwell
Evie’s Blog:  London Escort Blog

Tagged as: Escort/Prostitution, Evie