It is not surprising that the camera and photography have been placed within the ritualised cult of domesticity. For the photographic record is an agent in the collective fantasy of family cohesion, while the camera is part of the theatre the family constructs to convince itself that it is together and whole.
My thinking is a bit muddled on this. So please bare with me. This idea is not refined. I am trying to create the context to match my shooting. Trying to understand what it is I am seeing.
If infidelity is a multifaceted betrayal that shatters the fantasy of family cohesion then I suggest that documenting client extra marital sex is about documenting the mourning of, the death of marital intimacy and the destruction of a relationship. Its not just about documenting commercial sex. Witnessing sex as death. Time defeated. Enter Roland Barthes.
For the sex worker, the intimacy is a mass produced wrapped up in a pretty package sold to clients as a one off experience. Its real, its authentic and it exists but does not exist outside of the confines of the metered time. For the man however, the intimacy is real and longed for so when viewing photos of a married man with a sex worker you are viewing the loss of intimacy he once had with a women he loved. Lost hope. Defeated by time. Death of the marriage fantasy.