Cockadoodledoo

I am a farmer and praise be to DNA, a woman. In 2005, aged 38 and in dire financial straits, I spent a year as the worlds most disastrously qualified escort, in order to buy a new Hereford bull and reduce the enormous overdraft which my sheep were in the main, responsible for.

It was a terrifying decision for a country girl whose raunchiest moment was giving the local farmer's son a hand-job in his milking parlour.

I'm sure there are women out there who bounce out of bed of a morning, happy as an Andrex puppy, overjoyed at the prospect of a day of paid sex with strangers ahead of them. I can safely say I was not an Andrex puppy.

Performing lewd acts stark bollock naked with a complete stranger who has just handed you 70 for the privilege, is about as erotically charged as having a smear test.