One of the beauties of aging, is that you have more memories to reminisce over.
The period I am writing about was 9 years ago and there are contemporaneous blog posts that I will refer to. Whilst this reminiscence might seem to be through rose coloured glasses, they are not artificially tinted.
I first met TM in a brothel. We hit it off immediately and over a number of regular visits and frequent pillow talks, got to know a bit about each other. She had married very young, with no career, but eventually the marriage went bad. She turned to sex work as a convenient, easy way to make sufficient money to survive. Now she enjoyed sex and had a good temperament for this work. Her philosophy was to make her clients feel that they were 'making love' with her, what is sometimes called a 'girl friend experience'.
We exchanged telephone numbers to keep in touch about our availability. Well one day, she rang to say that due to a change in circumstances, she was leaving the brothel work, but would I like to continue seeing her privately. She lived in a rental cottage at the sea-side, a good hour out of my normal travel, but I said I would love to continue seeing her.
It took some surreptitious juggling of times between home and work, but we did get to spend some wonderful times together. I was her only 'partner' over this time. It wasn't really a 'client' relationship, although I did assist her financially. It wasn't regular enough in visits or payments to make it a 'sugar daddy' relationship. Perhaps 'Booty Buddy' or 'Friends With Benefits' would better describe what we had. TM summed it up best, describing us as a 'couple of survivors comforting each other'.
Being out of work, the government dole payment required her to undertake some occupational training. She signed up for an Aged Care Attendant certificate, but didn't really find it suited her temperament. She was a good photographer, particularly seascapes, and we talked about how she might turn this into some sort of career option, say in framed photographs in a tourist spot.
A few months in, she mentioned that she had met someone that had asked her on a date. I told her that if it became serious, and our friendship was inappropriate, to tell me and I would step aside. I never saw her for a few months, what with her going overseas for a friend's funeral, then her own family issues.
It was in the December; I had received a large Christmas hamper bonus from work, so I packaged up some of my largess for a hamper for TM. I slipped out of work early and headed on down to visit. TM was home and pleased to see me, but greeted me with a chaste kiss. I knew immediately that my time had come.
We settled on the front veranda with chai lattes to catch up. The sun was coming down in the west, a warm sea breeze wafted across the fragrant cottage garden, as our conversation covered the mundane (her purchase and restoration of some old furniture), to deeply personal (her struggles with a change in her contraceptive; her boyfriend leaving his wife and asking her to move in with him and the pros and cons of whether she should), to my home-life issues with my wife's health. She inquired whether the 'girls' back at the brothel were looking after me (I hadn't been back since seeing TM at home).
The sun was about to kiss the horizon and it was time for me to go. With a warm cuddle, wishing each other well and a peck on the cheek, I headed off into the twilight.
Nine years on, I still have warm, fond memories of those days. I did see her FB page once (I wouldn't contact her tho) and saw that that relationship back then had not survived. She went back to college in a course that tapped her creative side but in a very practical hospitality role, in which she now works. A new relationship with a biker seems to be going well, and suits the wild streak in her personality.
Bon voyage through the rest of your life buddy. We survived!
