The Intimate Adventures Of A London Call Girl (Belle De Jour, Book 1)

The Intimate Adventures Of A London Call Girl (Belle De Jour, Book 1)

Belle De Jour

Language: English

Pages: 178


Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

Belle de Jour is the nom de plume of a high-class call girl working in London. This is her story.

From the summer of 2003 to the autumn of 2004 Belle charted her day-to-day adventures on and off the field in a frank, funny and award-winning web diary. Now, in her Intimate Adventures, Belle elaborates on those diary entries, revealing (among other things) how she became a working girl, what it feels like to do it for money, and where to buy the best knickers for the job. From debating the literary merits of Martin Amis with naked clients to smuggling whips into luxury hotels, this is a no-holds barred account of the high-class sex-trade, and an insight into the secret life of an extraordinary woman.

Wikipedia wrote:

Magnanti (aka. Belle De Jour) says she worked for 14 months as a £300-an-hour prostitute for a London escort agency from 2003, after submitting her PhD thesis. She did so due to lack of funds before her viva voce at the University of Sheffield in 2003.

She had previously been a science blogger using her real name and started blogging about sex work under a pseudonym. Diary of a London Call Girl was voted Blog of the Year by The Guardian newspaper in 2003. Awards judge Bruce Sterling called it "Archly transgressive, anonymous hooker is definitely manipulating the blog medium, word by word, sentence by sentence far more effectively than any of her competitors ... She is in a league by herself as a blogger." Shortly after receiving the award she signed with literary agency Conville and Walsh who negotiated a publishing deal with Weidenfeld & Nicolson.

Reviews of the books compared her writing to the works of Martin Amis and Nick Hornby, and she frequently quotes from the poems of Philip Larkin. Themes of the blog and books focus on isolation and personae. "Solitude as much as sex propels these books ... Belle's prickly disbelief in any lasting togetherness picks up an almost existential heft." She writes in Playing the Game "it's not all about the sex - never has been - it's about the heart of darkness."

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moves was becoming difficult because I couldn’t escape the feeling of being watched. At the end of the hour I was so spooked I couldn’t help scanning the room for hidden cameras. At least it was a hotel room and not a private house, but when he went to use the toilet I still opened all the drawers and looked under the bed. It’s a good idea to stay suspicious, in my experience. It hasn’t served me badly yet. No one has ever taken advantage and I want to ensure it never does happen. That’s part of

mars I am a cheap date. At several hundred an hour, this is a rich claim to be making. But it is the truth. Considering the economics of sex – in which a man is prepared to invest some time, and a bit of money, towards gifts and entertainments, in order to coax a woman into bed – I am assured by clients that the cost of a call girl is on a par with the price of picking up a woman on a business trip. And she’s not likely to come round and cook your rabbit later. But I don’t mean at work, where

don’t they, the idea that a woman’s value is reflected in the effort you spend to win a smile or a kiss. Even if she turns out to be rubbish in bed, by the time you have prised her iron-banded thighs apart with weekend breaks in Sardinia and a shiny carbon chip on a ring, you’ll be so grateful to be there at all that it will not matter. I reckon this means people would tend to be worse in bed than their ancestors, the need to win a mate with lingual talent being bred out of the population (NB:

or the opening (drooling with pre-come, but several inches back)? He was older than me, divorced, so obviously someone had come across this anomaly before. Was it uncomfortable when he was hard? I wondered. Would he have problems with certain positions? Would this affect the condom? Would it be insulting to ask? I lavished attention on both the head and the opening, being careful not to curl my hand round the shaft too tightly. When we progressed to intercourse, I pinched the tip of the condom

this makes me a psychopath. If the glossy magazines are to be believed, this makes me an independent modern woman. dimanche, le 23 mai The manager and I are still at apparent loggerheads. She hasn’t rung, and I haven’t tried to ring her. While I appreciate this sort of treatment may be a mainstay of all mesdames’ arsenals, I don’t half feel like calling her up to say, ‘Pardon me, but do you know who I am?’ Must resist the urge to smack-down, though. I always wondered why the profiles on

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