About Sara Colewell

If you want to try to sum me up, I am the NYC Madam that has never been caught. Look at me once and it’s obvious that I’m…different. It’s there in the way I move, the way I react. It doesn’t matter how crowded the street gets. People bump into each other, men walk into the street unwittingly, trying to catch a second look. Heads turn like something just caught fire, and then the cells phones come out for a shot of my body, especially the small of my back where it meets my ass: solid, rounded muscle shaped like two teardrops. Hands brush crotches and then wallets, right in the street. People sense I am not free. Expensive. You see the question arrive on their faces: “Can I afford her?” For a fact, sadly, most Johns cannot afford me.

But in just a moment I’m usually gone. Carrying this kind of magnetic load, I have to be smarter to avoid trouble. Sometimes I need to vanish into thin air…

…My Johns are intelligent. They have to be to afford my prices, usually $2000 an hour (certain discounts may apply, depending on the client). But hookers, to be honest, are usually stupid. Too many girls are too dumb to do anything else. The good ones stand out. Rebecca spotted my ability after only a few months on the job. It was a great compliment to me — and I’m proud of it to this day — when she told me I could rise to her level.

So, yes, the risk is always there, but it’s mostly manageable…until you become very successful. Yeah. That’s the Catch 22. After you’ve busted your ass and you finally succeed in hooking the lawyers, the wise guys, the powerful politicians, the NBA stars, this is the moment they want you.