It’s true. This is an odd title for an article but it reflects accurately what happened to me all these years ago. I was freshly out of college finally enjoying a summer of leisure in London, my home town, taking walks in hide park and Kensington gardens, sun bathing until one day, I met him… My handsome American fellow. He was gorgeous all over, ash blond hair on a well tanned skin, shinny smile and all with just the right balance of flirting and aloofness and no time at all, I was head over heels in love.
We spent that summer together, and then three months later, having returned to the stats, he came back to spend Christmas with me. It was bliss at first, second and endless sight. It felt good, it felt right, we couldn’t have enough of each other. For the next year, our life suspended itself during the time we were apart and then came back to life, as ever torrid and exquisite as the time before.
Soon we were making plans to live together. He lived in Chicago, worked in a downtown law firm and I gave up my job as a writer for a British travel magazine and followed him to the land of grand lakes.
At first it was incredible. I was waiting to get a working permit in order but he was making enough money as a lawyer that I didn’t even have to go into my savings. It took 2 years from my visa to come through. During the process of waiting, I’d have to return back to England and then make the journey back to my new home in Chicago.
When the visa came, I remember the feeling of elation as I called my boyfriend to let him in on the great news. Things were good. I started to look for a job, preferably as a writer, but 2008 was not exactly a propitious time for finding a job anywhere, let alone a writer.
We carried on like that, happy most of the time, but I was noting some gaps in our relationship when we would retract into ourselves, become pensive, without quite knowing why to be honest. Things like that do not declare themselves with a fanfare. They seep into you daily hours, undetected at first until one day you realize that things are not quite what they used to be.
Eventually we both realize that our relationship had run its course, and having waited for so long to get my visa, I decided not to go back to the UK and instead make a life for myself in the US.
Finding a job was still very difficult, and I took part time positions whenever I could find them. But I was well into my savings and knew that I wouldn’t be able to last much longer if all I could get were part time jobs.
Then one day, I saw it… An ad by ChicksWithSass looking for operators to answer calls, and being open minded listed as a requirement. I do have an open mind, and was fed up with temping so I figured I’d call them and see what the offer was.
They were interviewing for their ChicksWithSass Phone Sex Numbers and once I was over the initial shock, I decided to give it a go.
As it turned out, I was pretty good at this. It must have been my very British accent (I can do other European accents as well and really kill it with French, even if I say so myself) and to my great surprise, ChicksWithSass Cheap Phone Sex was actually a lot of fun.
So much so that I am still doing it now. Life is funny that way. So now you understand. I came here for love and stayed for phone sex.