The image of Casanova sliding 50 raw oysters down his throat for breakfast probably started it. Whether it was true or just an exaggerated old wives tale it didn’t matter. The idea that food and sex were inexplicably linked was already firmly planted in my teenage brain. By the time I reached my mid-20s I knew for sure this was the case.
Years of experimenting had shown me that passion and the palate were fine bedfellows. Food with its slithery, succulent, sweet and runny textures couldn’t be more explicit if it tried. Food for me is erotically charged, the way for some people numbers have colours or sounds have a particular shape – synaesthesia the doctor called it when I enquired further.
My special ‘gift’ has allowed me to shine above my extremely capable colleagues in my current ambassador role in an escort agency in London. I like to educate my dates on the finer qualities of certain lustful foods. I wasn’t alone. Over a century ago French lovers would regularly dine on three courses of firm, butter soaked asparagus 24 hours before their nuptials in order to prepare themselves for their first night together as man and wife.
Give me a creamy, firm-to-the-touch, avocado as opposed to a bar of chocolate any day. The fruit’s pear shape and melting flesh when placed in the mouth is foreplay enough as far as I’m concerned.
And do my dates appreciate my willingness to educate them in this sensual manner? Well, when was the last time anyone sucked ripe mango flesh from the palm of your hand?
Meanwhile others – not necessarily employed in escort agencies – have been in possession of my ‘gift’ too but chose to use it unwisely. US inventor John Kellogg for instance, insisted nymphomaniacs steer clear of chilli peppers – due to their sensual-like manner of getting the body’s blood rushing and the heart pumping uncontrollably. One wonders on his perception of oysters!
