The original Dutch article ‘Eva (55) bezocht een gigolo’, from the Dutch magazine ‘Libelle’, can be read here. The translated text of the article is written out below.
Eva (55) hasn’t been touched by her husband in 18 years. She missed love so much that she decided to book a gigolo. “Those fingers over my skin, I enjoyed that so much.”
“Happy. That’s the way I should feel. Satisfied, fulfilled. But that’s not the case. It’s Saturday morning and I feel awful. I’m in bed and don’t want to get out. I’m crying, my body hurts so bad. I am 55 years old and my good years have been wasted. My husband asks what’s wrong with me. “Leave me alone,” I say, crying. “Don’t come near me.” He leaves the bedroom and a moment later I hear the front door close. He takes the dog for a walk.”
“Yesterday I spent 3 wonderful hours in a hotel room with a gigolo. I had been pondering about it for months. I told my husband: ‘If you don’t touch me, I’ll look for a gigolo’. We’ve been together for over 37 years now, but he hasn’t even hugged me for the past 18 years of our marriage. He can’t, he doesn’t want to, but he won’t talk about it. It’s a loveless relationship and I’ve craved attention for years. To a warm body, to physical contact, to someone holding me.
“In recent years my health has continued to decline. Rheumatism, arthrosis, and always pain. Work is no longer possible either. I’m alive, but I don’t feel that way. I want to feel it again… I even discussed with my GP that I want to hire a gigolo. “It will do you good,” he said.”
“On the internet I searched endlessly for someone who appealed to me. A male escort who works for a company easily asks €450 and I can’t afford that. And among the men who offer themselves, there are an incredible number of bunglers. But after a search I finally came across the site of a nice and affordable gigolo of 42 years old, with many rave reviews from women. Gentle, understanding, respectful, professional. I sent him an email to explain my situation, also that this wasn’t just a fling for me. He responded very nicely. Once I had made the decision, I immediately wanted to arrange a date. It had to happen, I had to feel a body against me. He arranged for a hotel room.”
“I am lying on the bed and screaming like a wounded animal. All my sadness comes out. I never thought I would be so upset and I try to reconstruct the hours. Yesterday morning I walked the dog first and then I took a nice long bath. I stood in front of the mirror, in my new lingerie, and thought: oh girl, that body, those love handles, that ass… I drove to the hotel in the afternoon, feeling so unsure but also so very excited. I knocked on the door and when he opened it I asked, “Can I still run away?” He opened his arms and I dove in. I clung to him. “It’s good the way it is,” he said, putting me at ease immediately.”
“Within 5 minutes I had my clothes off and we had sex. It just had to happen. Those few hours flew by. After the deed I lay with him and he caressed my arms. I loved those fingers over my skin. I thought it was sweet and endearing. After that I paid him, €300 and the hotel costs. Money that I secretly kept from the household money and saved coupons. He asked if I would like to make another appointment. Yes, I would love to. In 6 weeks again.”
“Stop it, I say to myself. I’m not a crybaby at all, but I can’t stop. I have to cry even louder when I get a message from my gigolo on my cell phone. ‘Enjoy yesterday.’ I get out of bed in the afternoon and with difficulty I get dressed. My entire body aches. I’m feeling down. So this is what I’ve been missing all these years, I think. It’s too painful. I decide to call my therapist, I need some help. I tell her about my experience with the gigolo and that I am now overwhelmed with sadness. ‘Oh girl’, she says, ‘how lonely you have been all these years.’”
“My husband comes home from the walk with the dog. I don’t say a word to him and he leaves me alone. What I feel has long ceased to interest him. No, I don’t dislike him, but I don’t feel guilty either. Because of this experience, I suddenly realize that I have to start re-organizing my life. I have been lonely for too long. In the evenings on the sofa I think about my gigolo and fantasize about winning the lottery. With that money, I can meet him in a hotel room every week. Just the thought gives me a little energy.”