Before we begin, I know what you’re thinking—why would a guy with an actual MD, a qualified OB/GYN, start providing a quasi-gigolo service?

Answer: Money. And fun.

Bills don’t just pay themselves, and while it’s true that doctors make a lot of money, that doesn’t start right away. You have to work your way up, same as any other industry, and I’d felt the specter of student loans creeping up over my shoulder. So, I’d applied my considerable skills to more interesting studies of the body.

It was a shame the way that women often weren’t given permission to explore their own bodies, raised to expect sex to be awkward, not told that they could demand their pleasure be just as valued as a man’s. I enjoyed helping them learn how to bring themselves pleasure, both on their own and with others. It didn’t hurt, I suppose, that I was rather in shape.

I don’t like to seem arrogant. I just prefer to state the facts.

The level of intimacy in my work depended upon the client’s needs and their level of comfort with what we were doing. Sometimes, I would simply show them how to pleasure themselves while they were alone and provide them with written tips for when they were with someone else.

More often than not, however, my clients preferred the full experience, so I’d show them how they could behave with a partner—whether it was positions that were particularly enjoyable, or how to talk to partners so that they understood what that client needed and wanted.

I was good at what I did. So, a few years in, I was not only free of debt and living a rather comfortable lifestyle, but I was also drowning in clients. I was at the point where I had to pick and choose because I simply couldn’t help everyone. I didn’t have the time.

I had few repeat customers, which was a good thing. Every so often, a client would think that there had been a deeper connection between us and would try to book me again.

Luckily, it was usually easy enough to sit them down and explain how the release of hormones during orgasm simulates a feeling of deep connection with your partner—a habit leftover from our earliest days as humans, in order to establish mating bonds and family units. I’d promise whatever they were feeling for me was merely the release of those hormones for the first time, and they’d be on their merry way.

Even without regular clients, however, I often struggled to decide who to help, and who I unfortunately didn’t have the time for. That morning, that was exactly what I was doing while sipping coffee, scrolling through my emails, and looking over booking requests.

I had originally established myself through word of mouth, having bought a second phone that people could call specifically for my services, but over time, I had found it easier to set up a website. Clients would fill out the application, explaining any health issues, their diet, a bit about their sexual history, etc.

I’d have more detailed interviews with them when we met up, but I liked to have as much information as possible beforehand. Always, when I wasn’t able to meet with someone, I would instead offer them tips and advice based on their application. I liked to think that it helped.

I was trying to decide between two applications when my phone buzzed. Getting a text on my work phone so early in the morning—especially with no prospective clients lined up—was unusual, so I gave it a look.

To my pleasure, it was from Mary, a nutritionist I’d met at a party about six months before. She had sent a few clients my way in the months since, even though she’d never visited me herself. Mary had been engaged when I’d met her, and if I was remembering correctly, had been about seven months off getting married, meaning her wedding would be coming up in about a month. She was a lovely woman, and very comfortable talking about things like sex, which I appreciated.

The text read:

Hey Ash! Sorry to bother you so early, but I was hoping you could do a sort of last-minute favor for me?

My real name is Asher O’Reilly, although not many people knew my last name. I tended to prefer anonymity, but since Mary had met me in a business-related party, she’d been introduced to me with my real name. I didn’t mind, since she had proven herself to be discreet.

I replied:

Hey, how’s it going? Are those wedding bells I hear in the distance? Let me know what the favor is and I’ll see what I can do.

Mary’s reply was almost immediate.

So glad you’re up! And thanks, haha—one month to go, don’t remind me. My best friend, Jessica, is in need of your help. She refuses to see you though, so it’ll have to be discreet.

I didn’t mind that. It was against my usual M.O., but I could make it work. I’ve been told that I’m charming, and I liked to think that my clients appreciated my personality as well as my skills in the bedroom. If Jessica was wary about going to see someone for something like this, then I could play the casual, coincidental hookup who finally taught her how to enjoy sex the way that it was meant to be enjoyed.

I got another text from Mary.

Here’s a picture of her!

I almost dropped my phone.

Jessica was stunning. I didn’t think that often, having been with so many women. In a way, it had given me an appreciation for all of the ways that the female form could be expressed, but it also meant that it took a lot for me to be impressed.

Right then, I was very much impressed. This Jessica had dark brown hair that fell around a sharply defined face with bright, clear blue eyes.

The picture must have been taken while Jessica and Mary were at the gym together, since Jessica was on a yoga mat, grinning, her legs spread wide in a split. Clearly, flexibility wasn’t the issue here. She was wearing tight leggings and a sports bra, both of which clung to her and allowed me to see how in shape she was, with firm muscles, perky breasts, and tan skin.

She was the most beautiful woman I’d seen in a long time, and I loved the carefree smile on her face. It looked like she was having fun, and I loved women who knew how to have fun. Judging by the photo, I guessed that she was in her late twenties or early thirties, but Jessica clearly kept up with her body. I mean, being able to do the splits? That was pretty amazing.

I was already planning on helping Jessica out, since I liked Mary and it saved me the trouble of having to choose my next client. Instead of sifting through all of the options, I’d had my choice given to me. But now that I’d seen Jessica, I would have cleared my schedule even if I’d had other people lined up. It wasn’t often that I got the chance to work with someone as stunning as her.

I had a feeling that most people who interacted with her felt the same. It was hard for me to believe that she hadn’t ever had an orgasm. How could any man not see that beautiful creature and want to make her time with them as pleasurable as humanly possible? But, you never knew. I didn’t want to judge.

When can I meet her? I replied.

The response took a while to come. In the meantime, I wrote some responses to applications that I wouldn’t be accepting, providing them with some advice. One woman, for example, sounded like she just needed more time to warm up.

Explain to your partner that he’s skimping on the foreplay. Foreplay is just as important as the main event, not to mention that it’s good bonding time for a couple. It can also help the guy last longer, if that’s an issue. Take your time warming up and you’ll see how ready your body is by the time he’s inside you.

I responded to a few more applications this way, by which point Mary had replied. I read the text, glad to see that I wouldn’t have to wait long to meet Jessica.

How about this Tuesday?

That was in two days, but not a problem. Mary had also included the details of the bar at which I could ‘run into’ Jessica.

Remember, don’t let her know who you really are! She’ll kill me!

I replied:

Piece of cake. By the way, what are you having at the wedding? Chocolate?

Mary responded with a rolling eyes emoji.

Just let me know where to send the money, smartass. I’m buying this for my BFF.

I sent Mary the information on how to pay through my website, a method that I’d found to be beneficial for both parties involved. I didn’t want my clients to know my real name for a check just in case of any legal trouble, especially since many of my clients were married or in relationships.

Those were my favorite clients, honestly, because there was no danger of them falling in love with me. They didn’t want an affair; they were coming to me to figure out how to do things so they could then approach their husbands and boyfriends about it. But the boyfriends and husbands might not see it that way, and I couldn’t exactly blame them. I had a bit of a possessive streak myself, when it came down to it.

Anyway, my clients didn’t usually carry cash in such large amounts and couldn’t exactly write ‘Dr. O’ on a check. So, they paid through my website, with the service billed as a ‘health consultation’ on their bank records.

Simple, easy, and good for everyone. Just how I liked my business and my life.

Tucking my phone into my pocket, I decided to go out on a jog. The day was already looking brighter, in all senses. In two days, I was going to meet the beautiful Jessica, and show her how a proper night out should go.

It was going to be a great week.