"Oh God. I'm so sorry. I feel like a massive dork."
"Why?"
"It's been so long. Like, over a year. I feel like I've forgotten how all of this works. Also I'm just a very awkward person in general."
"You'll be fine."
She kisses me. I hold on to her arms lightly, not wanting to hurt her, not wanting to weird her out, make her uncomfortable. She's here for me: I'd hired her for exactly that, and she agreed to it, and she's here. Blonde cropped hair, geeky tattoos befitting her name, tall and solid with a soft touch.
She kisses me and I try to not feel guilty about the next hour being solely for my pleasure.

This isn't the first time that I've been a sex work client. I've visited strip clubs before — sometimes with partners, sometimes alone. I ...