Hire a male escort or use an app?
Apps versus hiring an escort
If you’ve ever wasted a Friday night staring at your phone, waiting for “Hey” to turn into an actual date, you know the pain. Dating apps can be like shopping in a supermarket where everything is out of stock except disappointment. But hiring a male escort? That’s like skipping the queue and being handed the VIP package.
We asked one of our regular clients why he prefers hiring a NZ Rent Boys escort over apps. And here’s his story …
No ghosting — just guaranteed cock
“On apps, people vanish faster than your Wi-Fi when you’re mid-video call. With professional escorts with good reviews who are serious about escorting, there’s no disappearing act, unless you count clothes. You’re not left wondering if they’ll cancel last minute or suddenly “get busy.” You book, you meet, you play. Ghosting is for Halloween, not your sex life.”
Much less time-wasting
“On apps, it’s so hit-or-miss. Escorts don’t waste your time. Well, the professional ones don’t. (On that note, shop around, you’ll soon work out who is serious about escorting). They knock on your door, push you back against the wall, and kiss you like they’ve been starving for your mouth all week. Within minutes, you’re stripped, bent over the couch, and feeling his cock slide into you with no hesitation. The only thing disappearing? His condom wrapper on the floor. The only “ghosting” happening is when your moans echo down the hallway because he’s slamming into you so hard the neighbors wonder if you’re possessed.”
There’s no ‘maybe’, ‘maybe not’
“I once had a guy on Grindr string me along for three weeks. The night we agreed to meet, he “wasn’t feeling it” and bailed. I remember staring at my phone, hard and frustrated, wondering why the fuck I’d wasted my time.
The next day, I texted my regular escort. He showed up an hour later. The second the door closed, he grabbed me by the waist, shoved me against the wall, and kissed me so hard my lips hurt. His hand went straight down my jeans, palming my cock while grinding his thick, already hard dick into me through his jeans.
We didn’t even make it to the bedroom. He spun me around, yanked my pants down, spat in his hand, and shoved two fingers inside me while whispering, “You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?” I moaned and nodded, and seconds later he had his condom out and his cock was buried in me, slamming me against the kitchen counter. My wine glasses rattled, plates nearly fell, and I was already gasping, gripping the edge of the counter for dear life.
That’s the difference: apps leave you with blue balls. Escorts leave you sweaty, fucked, and dripping.”
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