Questions about who I am

Yes. I’m Victor, a gigolo with a background as a psychotherapist, and that combination is rare. On top of more than twenty-five years of practice, I bring the calm and the knowledge to handle fear, tension, or a bad experience with care.

What that means in practice: I notice when someone pushes on while her body says otherwise, and then I stop instead of continuing. I won’t go along with the pace you think you’re supposed to keep.

Be warned about what it isn’t, though. This is not trauma therapy and I treat nothing. If something bigger is going on underneath, I’ll say so, even when that means you’re better off not booking.

By testing me before you commit to anything. You always write and call directly with me, not with a middleman, so you hear my voice before you see me. A video call works too, and I recommend it.

Feel free to ask for an extra, recent photo if you want to check that I’m who I say I am. Anyone who refuses that is the wrong one, and that goes for everyone in this line of work.

What else you can run through: whether there are prices on the site, whether the reviews vary in tone, and whether someone asks about your limits rather than your wish list. Those three together say more than any promise ever could.

Undivided attention, with nothing expected in return. That’s the whole difference, and it sounds smaller than it is.

At home, attention always runs both ways. He talks about his day too, he wants something too, there’s an expectation there too, and that’s not wrong, that’s a relationship. But it means there’s never an evening that only goes one way.

Here there is. A few hours where nobody wants anything back from you, where you don’t have to ask how his day was, where you don’t halfway realize you still have something to make up for tomorrow. That’s something you can’t really arrange within a relationship.

Mostly: not rushing. We start by talking, not by undressing, and that first half hour isn’t a formality. It’s the part that makes the rest possible.

I tell you what’s going to happen before it happens, I ask how it feels for you, and I let silences simply fall instead of filling them. Most of the tension goes the moment it turns out nothing is expected of you.

I won’t reassure you with compliments about how you look. That backfires, because then it’s about that after all. I’d rather just say it doesn’t have to turn into anything.

Yes, and it’s one of the reasons women end up with me. I’m a psychotherapist by profession, and you notice it most in how I listen: without a solution, without advice you didn’t ask for, and without wanting to steer what you tell me anywhere.

Crying happens more often than you’d think, usually with women who haven’t been touched in a long time. It doesn’t startle me and I won’t fix it; we just stay sitting there until it settles.

I don’t sell therapy. If something bigger is going on underneath, I name it and refer you on. That’s more honest than pretending one evening solves it.

There are, and in practice most of my clientele is over fifty anyway. That rarely gets put on a site like this, but it’s the reality of the work.

It’s not because younger women don’t want this. It’s because the reason usually comes later in a life: after a divorce, after a loss, or after years in which something slowly slipped away without there ever being a fight about it.

With women over fifty it often goes deeper in practice. Less focused on how they’re doing it, more on what they actually want. That makes an evening better, not more cautious.

Yes, of course. Before you commit to anything I send clear, recent photos so you know who’s standing at your door. Feel free to ask for an extra one if there’s something specific you want to see.

They’re there to verify, not to float around somewhere. Discretion runs both ways: just as I protect your privacy, you keep what you get from me confidential.

Better than photos, by the way, is a video call. A face can be faked, a conversation barely can, and in five minutes you see how someone moves and sounds. That’s usually where it either falls apart or clicks. Just ask for it; I don’t see that as distrust. I see it as good sense.

No. I choose who I meet myself and I don’t take an appointment I don’t feel like, so that situation never arises.

That’s also the honest answer to what sits underneath this question: that you’re afraid someone is putting on an act. That fear is justified when someone takes every booking, because then there has to be acting. Being able to say no is the only real guarantee you have.

What does happen is that one evening is less special than another, for both of us. That’s not disgust, that’s how it goes between people. So I just say it, instead of hiding it.

Because I’m good at it and it’s my whole work. Everything I do, from tantra to BDSM to an evening of company, is aimed at women and at couples where she is the reason.

That’s a choice, not a judgment about men looking for the same thing. There are colleagues who do work with men and do it better than I would; if that’s what you’re after, I’ll just tell you.

With couples it’s a bit more nuanced: he can be there, watch, or join in, and we agree on that beforehand. What doesn’t work is a booking where she’s really coming along to do him a favor.

What you’d see me in day to day: usually neat trousers and a shirt, well-groomed but not dressed up. No eye-catching outfit and no suit that screams something special is going on.

That’s deliberate. If we walk into a hotel or restaurant together, we look like two people going for a drink, and that’s exactly what you want.

If you want something specific, a suit, or very casual, or that one particular shirt, just say so. I’ll wear what you’re comfortable with, and that question is less strange than you’d think; it gets asked more often than the other way around.

No, and that isn’t the goal either. Sometimes I do, sometimes I don’t, and it depends on the evening.

I have no reason at all to force or fake that, and it saves me a lot. It saves you something too: there’s no moment where the evening is supposedly finished, and so no moment where it abruptly turns into something else.

What sits underneath this question is usually something else, namely whether it’s real for me as well. It is, and the reason is simple: I don’t take appointments I don’t feel like. Feel free to ask again during the pre-date conversation.

No, and I get that question more often than any other. It almost never comes from a real judgment about yourself. It comes from the expectation that others would judge: your sister, a colleague, your ex. That’s a reaction to an audience that isn’t there and isn’t coming.

You pay for time and attention in ten other places in your life without anyone thinking twice. The fact that this is about intimacy makes it loaded, not pathetic.

The whole run of doubt questions, is he faking, am I too old, what if I get emotional, is on Still having doubts?.