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- The Kid: What Happened After My Boyfriend and I Decided to Go Get Pregnant
Want a Second Opinion?
Contact Dan Savage
February 25, 1999
I am a woman, 40ish and extremely horny. My question may be rather unusual: I am wondering if you know of any agencies or escort services which provide heterosexual studs for women? I would like to hook up with a body-builder type, a guy with size and stamina, and I am willing to pay. I have been celibate for the past year, and I want to make up for lost time!
I've paid for sex before, but always with men I found in gay papers. Sometimes this works out--believe it or not, I met my ex-husband that way--but it's usually a waste of time. How come a sexually frustrated man, gay or straight, with $100 in his pocket can find relief, and women with as much or more money can't? Why must heterosexual women suffer? Surely there must be a solution!
Where can I go? I have looked online and found nothing in this country; all the males-for-females escort agencies seem to be in the U.K. or Australia. Can you help?
-Frustrated in the East Bay
P.S. My email address is BBGroupie@aol.com. If you'd print my email address in your column, prospective studs could get in touch with me directly.
Have you heard of supply and demand? In a capitalist system, when demand for a particular good or service exists, someone somewhere will try to make themselves a pile of money by satisfying that demand. Extremely horny men, gay and straight, will buy sex if they can't find it for free, which creates a demand for men and women willing to supply their bodies to horny men at reasonable hourly rates. So long as demand and supply are in balance, prices are reasonable and everybody's happy.
Why aren't there as many escorts for horny women? Because women are less likely to spend their money on escorts, which means there's less demand, and low demand for heterosexual stud escorts = low supply of same. The solution? Create more demand, which is exactly what you're doing, FEB. Congratulations: You are part of the solution. If enough horny women come forward and demand service, a supply of heterosexual stud escorts will materialize.
In the meantime, there's no need to suffer: The Internet is crawling with websites for agencies and escorts; I don't know what kind of crap search engine you used, but I was able to find plenty of heterosexual stud escorts in the United States and Canada. Check out these sites: www.lovings.com; www.privatedancersusa.com/escorts4women; and www.male-escorts.com.
Finally, I can't print your email address for prospective studs to get in touch with you and arrange to exchange sex for money. That would be criminal--it's called soliciting or procuring or something. But I can print your email address so that readers who disapprove of prostitution may write and give you a piece of their minds.
Hey, Faggot: First, I dislike having to address you as "Faggot," since that term is dehumanizing. Second, if you consider homosexuality moral, then you can expect to perform sex acts with Satan himself in Hades. Although I am Christian and straight, I don't "gay bash" and never will. If a gay person were to ask me for a hug on the street, I wouldn't pull back in disgust, unlike some false Christians who go out of their way to make gay human beings feel like crap.
Third, he didn't die just for me and my sins, Dan.
P.S. If you would care to print my email address (Sylvester77@Juno.com), please do so.
What an interesting fantasy life you have, Todd. First, you fantasize about me and Satan getting it on in Hades. (Which amounts to you going out of your way to make me, a gay human being, "feel like crap," don't you think? Or is sex with Satan supposed to brighten my day?) Second, you segue from Satan & Dan doin' it in Hades to gay men trying to hug you on the street. I'm not a trained psychologist, but you seem to have some unresolved feelings about homosexuality. Be careful, Todd of God, or you may wind up in Hades having three-ways with me and Satan.
Third, no one has to address me as "Hey, Faggot" anymore: I'm retiring the salutation. When I started writing this column in 1991, there was a debate raging in hellish homosexual circles about words like faggot. The idea was that if we used these words ourselves--Queer Nation, Dyke March, "Hey, Faggot"--straights couldn't use them as hate words anymore. I chose "Hey, Faggot" as my salutation in joking reference to this lively debate about reclaiming hate words.
Lo many columns later, it feels strange to begin every column with a joke about a debate that ended years ago. So, I'm retiring "Hey, Faggot." Unless someone out there comes up with a better salutation--a salutation for the next millennium--you don't have to address me as anything at all.
I've been dating my girlfriend for over a year and a half, and she's never given me anything but love and devotion. I've done two awful things: 1. I cheated on her because I needed money for tuition and so 2. I acted in an adult video. I told myself it wasn't cheating because I didn't kiss anyone (kissing to me is more intimate than sex), and that it was "work." Despite my rationalizations, the guilt is killing me. My girlfriend is very good to me, and I don't want to cheat on her anymore, but I need the money.
P.S. I'd appreciate it if you would publish my email address in case anyone out there has any ideas: firstname.lastname@example.org.
If your girlfriend reads this column and recognizes your name and email address, she'll dump you before you have a chance to star in another video. Once she's your ex-girlfriend, you can't really cheat on her anymore, so there's nothing to feel guilty about.
Speaking of email...
For years, I've resisted accepting letters to Savage Love via email. With email, you have less info to work with, which made me reluctant to embrace the technology. An example: I once got a letter from a 13-year-old girl having sex with her father and, she claimed, absolutely loving it. Perfect for Savage Love, but I didn't answer that letter. Why? It was written in longhand on legal paper with a fountain pen. Through careful examination of the physical evidence--the letter in my hand--I was able to deduce that it was total bullshit. It wasn't from a 13-year-old girl, but from some creepy middle-aged guy with creepy middle-aged incest fantasies. I trashed the letter, boiled my hands, and answered some genuine letters.
But... it's time to join the 20th century--quick, before it's over!--so Savage Love now has an email address. I haven't entirely embraced the times: I still don't know how to drive, I won't pay $40 a month to watch TV, and microwave ovens make me nervous. But on the email issue, I had to give ground. It's unfair of me to ask you, my readers, to do something I wouldn't, and the fact of the matter is this: I don't write letters with pen and paper anymore. I use email. And now you can too: email@example.com.