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Tuesday, Nov 24, 2009
She's married to the love of her life. And he kisses her goodbye when she jets off to satisfy other men's fantasies.
Oct 23, 2002 | When the call came, the striking blonde whose professional name is Veronica Monet donned a gray wool pinstripe Escada suit with a skirt cut slightly above the knee. She packed an overnight bag with the tools of her trade: condoms, lube, a sheer French maid's outfit and a $2,000 black cashmere cocktail dress by Armani.
The client was a regular, so she did not request her usual 10 percent deposit upfront. He said he would pay by check when she arrived in Chicago. That was a relief. Monet, 42, never discusses her fee, but says that other jet-set escorts typically charge several thousand dollars for a one-day date -- and she dislikes flying home with that much cash. Like most of her other clients, this man was white, married, around 50. A well-educated, self-made multimillionaire. He was into art, so on the way to the airport, she picked up a few art magazines to immerse herself in his interest. At SFO, a round-trip business-class e-ticket was waiting for her.
Veronica Monet is a prostitute. But she is more like a 21st century geisha or Renaissance courtesan than a street hooker. She's a well-informed, intellectually exciting, sexy woman who uses her brain as much as her body in pursuit of her professional goal -- to make her clients feel like kings and make a good living for herself. The men want sex, of course, but the reason they are willing to pay Monet her sky-high fees is that she offers them much more than the T&A they could get from any hooker. As she says, "The more I charge, the less sex I actually do."
Monet is also a writer, actress, video producer and outspoken activist for prostitutes' rights. Her essays have been anthologized in "Whores and Other Feminists" and "Porn 101." Playboy called her video, "Real Women, Real Fantasies," "a groundbreaker in the feminization of porn." She has appeared on dozens of radio and TV shows, among them, "20/20," "Politically Incorrect," A&E's "Love Chronicles" and several shows on the Playboy channel. And she's happily married to the love of her life, a computer-industry executive who knows exactly what she does and is well acquainted with the Web site she uses to market her services.
The client picked her up at O'Hare in a limo and had the driver take them to a gallery in the Loop showing the oils of a hot Belgian painter. On the way, she lavished all her attention on him, making him feel very special as she unzipped and sucked him, while he ran his hands under her skirt and blouse. After the gallery visit, there was more sucking and groping on the way to a four-star hotel by Lake Michigan, where they enjoyed the view and fooled around some more as she changed into her dinner dress. They met some of his colleagues at a five-star restaurant. He showed her off proudly. Her top was cut low enough and her skirt high enough to raise blood pressures around the table without looking trashy. Her client enjoyed hinting that he could snap his fingers and Monet would fly across the continent to be by his side. He also enjoyed the fact that she held her own in table talk ranging from Middle East politics to the restoration of antiquities at the Acropolis.
After dinner, back at the hotel, they had sex -- once. He liked half and half, some oral, some vaginal. She worked hard to make him feel like the luckiest man in the world. The next morning, he sent her back to O'Hare in the limo, and she flew home wearing her conservative suit made zingy with high ankle-strap heels and bright red lipstick. She spent part of the flight reading "When God Was a Woman" by Merlin Stone.
Then she chatted up her seatmate, dropping oblique hints about what she does. He figured it out and seemed interested. She slipped him a business card with her 800 number and URL. She also pondered what she would tell her husband about this job. The view from the room, she decided, the panorama of the Lake and the Loop. That was special.
When she pulled into her two-car garage and entered her four-bedroom, three-bath home, she was tired and hungry. Her husband was out back, playing with the dog by their swimming pool. He came in, embraced her, and announced that dinner was takeout sushi and steamed asparagus. She changed into jeans while he put the food on the table. Over dinner they talked about the past two days. He'd seen a deal involving a large computer system unexpectedly fall apart, and another unexpectedly come together. She told him about the art gallery, the fabulous restaurant, and the spectacular view from the hotel. Afterward, they cleaned up and turned on the History Channel. By the end of the documentary, they were cuddling. They went to bed and made love. Later, as she drifted off to sleep, Monet thought about how lucky she was to have a career she enjoyed and a husband she adored. And to think she'd once been a feminist crusader against prostitution.
