The Sex Sinspector And Me

I have always made it a rule not to get romantically involved with my men. Most of them are happily married and I wouldn’t want to get involved with a married man anyway. My boys aren’t interested in having an affair, but they usually aren’t getting it (or enough of it) at home, which is why they come to see me.

However, I do get the occasional single guy – and whilst in all honesty I do like my men (I ban people I dislike), I’m never usually that attracted to them to want to get involved. I just like to do a good job and send them away with a smile on their face.

However, sometimes things happen. Three times actually in my case.

I started to become physically attracted to a particular regular of mine after around a year of monthly visits from him.

One minute it was a friendly business shag, and the next we were all over each other declaring our undying love. *Blush*.

Actually, for me, it was a gradual attraction.

We got together.

Job wise as far as I knew, he had left the army and was now working in a pub in London.

A week after getting freebies from me, we agreed to meet at a pub after he’d finished work for the day. Of course, you know what I’m about to say – he turned up in full police inspector uniform!

Oh how we laughed!

Chuckling at the look on my face, he said that he couldn’t tell me about his job straight away because (naughtily) he had to check to see if I had a criminal record. If I had had a criminal record, it would have made things a little tricky. But as I hadn’t, it was all systems go!

We were together for six months until we both went our separate ways with no hard feelings.

Anyway, he went on to run a posh brothel and was plastered all over the front page of a Sunday tabloid. The headline was, “The Sex Sinspector”.

Horrible people!

In 2018 he was taking part (anonymously) in an interview on a fairly popular daytime news/debate show. I only knew about this because a few days later, the Daily Fail did a double page expose on him.

The Daily Fail is my (other) dirty little secret, and as I was flicking through, I clocked the article complete with a full page photo of him taken surreptitiously – you know what the DF is like: All screeching headlines and at the very least, highly exaggerated content.

Apparently he now runs a brothel in London and is married to a woman who used to be an escort.

There is more to this story, but I’m only writing here what is already out there as I think that’s fair.

I used to think those working women I’d seen on “documentaries” were lying when they regaled the viewer with stories of kinky judges and stammering celebrities paying (haha) them a visit.

Sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction!