The first time I tried to book an escort, I was terrified. Not just nervous. Terrified. Would they even want to see me? A guy in a wheelchair. Young, but still disabled. Would they be disgusted? Sympathetic? Fake some kind of performative kindness?
Most people don't understand how isolating physical disability can be. Sex isn't just about getting off. It's about human touch. Connection. Feeling wanted. Not just a medical problem to be solved or pitied.
Sarah was different. She wasn't some saint. She was professional, direct. Asked me exactly what I needed physically. Not just sexually. Like how I wanted to be positioned, what might hurt, what would feel good. No awkwardness. No fake sympathy.
We talked about mobility. About my body. She treated me like an adult with desires, not a charity case. That matters more than most people realize.
I know some disabled guys who've never been touched intimately. Never felt skin against skin. Never experienced desire as something they're allowed to have. These encounters aren't just transactions. They're survival.
Complex stuff. No simple answers.