Pynk, the pseudonym under which Novel Spaces member Marissa Monteilh writes erotica, was the winner of the 2008 YOUnity award for Fastest Rising Literary Star and Author of the Year. Warner Books released the first Pynk title, Erotic City, in November 2008. It went on to become a finalist in the 2009 African American Literary Awards in the category of erotica, and was voted one of the Best Reads for 2008 by Black Expressions. Urban-reviews.com gave Erotic City its Top-Shelf review of 5-stars. The second title, Sexaholics, about four women addicted to sex, was released in March 2010, and her third title, Sixty-Nine, was published in March 2011.
Voted amongst the 2010 Women of Influence in Publishing by Written Magazine, and a 2010 Pink Diamond Award Honoree at the African-American Literary Festival hosted by SistahFriend Bookclub, Marissa Monteilh (Mon-tay) is the best-selling author of nine mainstream novels and novellas: May December Souls, The Chocolate Ship, Hot Boyz, Dr. Feelgood, Something He Can Feel, The Six-Letter Word, Hot Girlz, Turnabout is Fair Play, and Make Me Hot. Make Me Hot was an African American Literary Award nominee. She also contributed to two erotic anthologies called Morning Noon and Night: Can't Get Enough and also The Heat of the Night.
The Girlfriend Experience
by Madam Money Watts
High-five to Pynk for taking you on a journey into the world of sex for money in Politics. Escorts. Blackmail., a novel about politicians and celebrities who frequent the services of New York escorts. My name is Madam Money Watts, and right off the bat I want to make this perfectly clear; as far as sex for money, while my company, Lip Service, has indeed accepted money from some very high-profile, powerful, wealthy clients in exchange for Lip Service contractors to "escort" said clients by spending private time with said clients, I have never accepted money for sex. Let's get that straight first. These are consenting adults, and what happens between two grown people, should stay between two grown people.
So, on to the purpose of this blog post... Pynk has informed me that the working title of Politics. Escorts. Blackmail. was The Girlfriend Experience. She was intrigued with the term girlfriend experience, also known as GFE in some circles (clears throat), and she asked if I would share my knowledge of it, and I happily agreed (not that the definition fits any particular goings-on at Lip Service, mind you).
Anyway, here we go. The term "girlfriend experience" is not a new term. It's been around for years, though it was used quite often when the sex scandal broke about the former governor of New York, Eliot Spitzer, who allegedly paid for high-priced prostitutes, one of those women being Ashley Dupre.
A girlfriend experience is a pay-for-play connection between individuals that gives the illusion of intimacy between the two. From the outside, those who'd observe the couple would easily assume that they were an item, committed, and in love. GFE is a term used to describe the sexual lifestyle preference of a client who pays for a high-end call girl, wanting the escort to play the role and act like she's his woman, sometimes in bed, which I know nothing about, and sometimes out of bed, sometimes both—imagine that. It can involve meals together, holding hands, hugging, talking—more personal interaction and public displays of affection. In bed, I'm told it could mean snuggling, conversation, deep French kissing, sometimes spending the night, foreplay, romantic music. If the escort is a male, the term is "boyfriend experience," or BFE.
From what I hear, there's also a term called "porn star experience," or PSE, as in the type of sex you'd see in XXX-rated movies. It's supposedly less about feelings and more about the performance.
Based on the GFE theory, Pynk has given me permission to share a scene from chapter two of her novel, Politics.Escorts.Blackmail., very loosely based on Lip Service, that involves an escort named Midori Moody. Bless Midori's heart, she's yearned for a "normal" life with a man who could save her from her profession. To her, to have the husband, kids, and white picket fence, with two dogs, Lassie and Rin-Tin-Tin, is only fantasy. But in the meantime, there's this amazing, yet married, Long Island doctor who shows her a real good time in Florida; enough of a good time to distract her from her belief that any man who'd ever be attracted to her would never see her as virtuous enough to marry.
And so, enjoy the below excerpt as Midori fulfills the Long Island doctor's GFE fantasy. And be nice to Midori Moody because in the book, and in real life, she's my little sister. As a disclaimer, please note that I cannot be responsible for the fictional words of Pynk. She's always making up something. She has such a way with words, in fact, she convinced me that this story had to be told, not to glamorize the business, but to paint a picture of what can happen if said clients have sex with said escorts, and allow you to be a fly on the said escort wall.
Get ready to be eroticized Pynk-style, because... there's hot, there's red-hot, and then there's Pynk! (Pynk told me to say that.)
Madam Money Watts
Chapter excerpt – POLITICS.ESCORTS.BLACKMAIL. by Pynk
The Long Island doctor, a.k.a. Mr. 81, who was in his fifties, paid top dollar for someone to simply be the girl next door, doing what some girlfriends do. Be his willing, feminine, sexy trophy. No drama allowed.
For a moment, while with him, Midori had actually forgotten she was a working girl and fell victim to the allure of the imaginary romance he was trying to portray for his own reasons. No one on the Florida Keys island knew who he was, unlike in the city, where he was often recognized. The two of them were incognito, holding hands, pretending to be a couple though having just met. While she fulfilled his fantasy, she felt cherished and got lost along the white sugar sand beaches with spiraling coconut palm trees, under powder-blue skies in mid-eighty-degree weather. He fulfilled her heart’s fantasy without even knowing it.
The first evening was like a true date. They met at the restaurant called Shor. After dinner, he walked her to her own two-bedroom suite, and he went to his. They exchanged nothing more than a good-night peck on the lips.
The next day after breakfast, he took her shopping at the local boutiques and bought her formal evening wear, a sapphire bustier with a matching thong, skimpy lingerie, and a tangerine bikini. They went parasailing and scuba diving on the private beach. That evening they enjoyed a cozy dinner cruise at sunset and danced the night away like newlyweds.
Later, in his hotel suite, after sipping expensive champagne and feeding each other chocolate-dipped strawberries, she allowed him to live out his desires: French kissing, expert cunnilingus, her riding him until she had an orgasm, or three, and then him mounting her until he got his, all to the sounds of smooth, baby-making jazz. Then, after about an hour’s worth of pillow talk, she went to her hotel room, floating on cloud nine.
He was the head of thoracic surgery at the University Hospital of Brooklyn, and if Taye Diggs had an older brother, he would be it. He had dark skin, white teeth, a bald head, and he was sexy but he acted like he didn’t know it. He was a leading, esteemed surgeon who mended hearts for a living. But it became obvious to Midori that he was trying to survive after having his heart broken.
After the throes of deep sex, while holding “Brooklyn,” her escort name, in his arms, he shared with her: “My wife is cheating on me. I don’t want to give her half, since we didn’t sign a prenup. After twenty-two years, we’re in a sexless marriage. It all comes down to the fact that it’s cheaper to keep her. So instead of having a chick on the side who wants more, I hire an escort every now and then. But I’m never with the same girl twice.”
Midori gave a smile but frowned inside. In her mind she snapped her fingers, Damn.
The final day they rented scooters to get in some last-minute sightseeing, had lunch, then simply checked out of the hotel and headed off to the airport in separate town cars like it was all a dream. They never even spent one night together.
Copyright © 2012 by Pynk