How I became a sex worker at 52 — and loved it

I started “work” at the age of 52, I’m 58 now. I worked for two years in Sydney (only on the weekends) at an exclusive brothel for “mature” ladies. It absolutely changed my life.

My husband was terrible at sex, we were together for nearly three decades but he was never sexy to me.

I was attracted to him as a fabulous person, as someone who was like my Rock of Gibraltar. My father was a violent womaniser and this guy was the complete opposite; he was amazing, everyone loved him.

But by the time I was in my early 50s, I’d had enough after such a long time. The sex dwindled off and in the last five years we didn't have sex at all.

So when it was all over and done with, I was sitting at home and the thought of prostitution entered my mind.

“I always wanted to try that,” I thought. And that was it.

I’d always had this curiosity about it, like what goes on? Who are these people? So I decided I’d go in, see what it was about and if I didn’t like it I could always leave.

Becoming a sex worker was just something else I really wanted to try. It was liberating, uber fun and I was paid amazing money as I became the top lady and much sought after.

I was the best actress and no matter what sort of man I saw (hardcore criminal bikies, doctors, TV personalities, “not-quite” 18-year-olds) I made them feel amazing. I became a sexy c-haracter that I invented.

I have never had a single stretch mark, I’ve always been very slim and had naturally large breasts. So it was the perfect storm (in a DD cup) for me — as I found my niche there for a couple of years.

For some ungodly reason my body was perfect as was my face and I learnt to act like a sexy vixen after a lifetime of mistrusting and even loathing men. I had the ultimate power over them and it was perfect.

I didn’t need the money, but it was extra cash and I was having a great time, rather than watching Dr Phil or Oprah at home.

Men have always flocked to me since I was a young teenager but I’d been afraid of them and their advances. Being a hooker gave me the power over them that changed my life.

The day I decided to become a sex worker, I took myself over to a mature ladies brothel in Chatswood, in Sydney’s north. I was all dolled up, and when I walked in, they asked if I’d done this type of thing before and if I thought I could do it.

I was sh*tting myself but acting confident.

When I started I had NO idea at all about life as a prostitute, but I soon became an expert.

When a client arrives, the ladies line up and you have a couple of minutes to greet them. There’s a lounge and then men are sat there while we try and build an immediate rapport with them.

We were all dolled up to the nines and we flirted like crazy with the men and made them feel as though they were the best thing since sliced bread.

When he’s seen all the women, he makes his choice, and the receptionist takes you to the room.

I didn’t even know how to put a condom on, I had no idea, so my first ever client had to show me. I literally had no idea.

The first couple of weeks you’re working non stop because the guys like the idea that they can teach you, if you’re new.

We would get these hot guys, totally ripped and muscled. They did nothing for me but they thought they were incredible.

Many of us had regular clients that arrived weekly to see us. One of my clients would take viagra and he’d book me for four solid hours, which was wonderful. He was a sad tragedy, very lonely and inept, but harmless.

Young guys in their 20s would ask me out and I’d decline. Can you imagine what we’d look like together?

We all have our ways to tame the wild men that start getting nasty or want to try and get away without wearing a condom. I would smile a lot and slap one on them before they knew what was happening. Many men want sex with no condom and some of the women would take $100 extra and do just that, but not me. Ever.

We all had regular health checks at clinics but for the women that saw many men and didn’t use condoms it’s probably only a matter of time that they get some hideous disease.

I did fall hard for two men (who never knew about each other) and when I left the brothel I continued to see them as boyfriends.

Both are really wonderful men. Businessmen that treated me wonderfully. We always stayed overnight in top glamorous hotels, never at their home, which of course had me asking whether they were married or not. They both emphatically would say no, that they were divorced.

At the beginning of the “appointment”, you’re handed a whole heap of cash. I thought, ‘holy crap’.

We made $300 an hour and if a guy liked you, after the first hour he would get out his credit card and we’d take it to reception to take some more money out of his account. I only usually liked to be with a guy for an hour maximum though, after that I wanted to throttle him!

The owner loved me, but she had a fierce, unpredictable c-haracter that saw her feared by all of us.

She would secretly check up on us; She had men come in as clients and try to get information out of me, like would I meet them afterwards for drinks? Dinner? Sex? I smelled a rat straight away and said that I definitely wouldn’t.

Many of the ladies that start at brothels take numbers f-rom men then ask them to come to their own homes/hotel rooms thereby cutting out the brothel.

People have always said, ‘you’re really sexy’, but I was such a prude in my life before the brothel, that it wasn’t until I’d finished working there that I felt sexy.

When I left I knew that it’d changed me so dramatically. I became obsessed with money when I’d always been unmaterialistic, I became fake and hard around the edges which did not sit well with me at all.

But I absolutely don’t regret doing it as I was such a prude and it set me free.

I’m 60 next year, and reflecting on that time I realise it was all an act, you become this other person. I enjoyed it while I was there but looking back, I don’t know who that person was.

Nobody knows about my time in the brothel, I have grandchildren I wouldn’t want to hurt, but I treasure every moment and I still have women friends who work in the industry. (Some of these ladies are architects, artists, magazine editors and ex lawyers).

I live out of Sydney now. I did work for two weeks in another brothel but it was so absolutely horrific that I just ‘snapped out of it’ and never worked in the industry again. That was five years ago.

I now hold down an office job part-time and live quietly.

— As told to Matt Young. On Twitter @MattYoung