Advancing Professionally
I never intended to be a virgin bride, seeing as that ship had sailed long ago. I've slept with men for various reasons: believing I was in love with them, hoping it would make them love me back, feeling lonely and wanting a connection with someone, anyone, or just because I was horny and desired something real inside me instead of plastic. One time, I even slept with a man because he seemed lonely and I felt sorry for him. Needless to say, I've slept with men for fun too - just because I wanted to feel wanted and desired.
However, I've never slept with someone for money until now.
My first encounter with money-for-sex offers dates back to third grade. A boy from my class proposed offering me his dessert if I allowed him to see "my hole." Unsurprisingly, I didn't speak to him again afterwards.
Later on, a guy at a frat party offered me twenty bucks if I'd flash my boobs to everyone. I was tempted, but if he had given me another drink or two, I might have followed through.
Now, I've just had sex with someone for $300.
I did it because I was desperate for cash. I was in serious financial distress. I was completely out of money. I had been behind on rent before, and my landlord had been furious. I promised I'd never be late again.
Desperate for another solution, I asked my employer if they'd lend me some money for an emergency advance. They had previously bitten at that before, but now they had a policy against it. I begged them anyway, but they declined. My ex-boyfriend was out of the question, and even though my best friend was also in need of cash, she would have given me her last dollar if she could.
Gravely concerned about keeping my finances a secret from my parents, I couldn't bring myself to ask them for help. I'd rather have sex with a stranger than ask them for money.
Resorting to extreme measures, my best friend joked about selling my body to get some cash. I couldn't tell if she was serious or not. Even if she was, I would never ask her about it.
With just two weeks before the rent was due and running out of options, selling my body seemed like the most viable solution.
So, I decided to go through with it.
To learn the ropes about how escorts worked, I turned to the classified section of our local online newspaper, which was a frequent source of amusement for me and my friends. Now, it served as a resource for me to figure out how to safely earn some money and, if possible, maintain some dignity. The ads were somewhat subtle, but it wasn't difficult to discern the lengths of their offerings. Adopting the writing style from the ads that I found most promising, I created my own ad.
In my ad, I advertised myself as a cute blonde (I am), seeking a date of sorts. I claimed to be horny and open-minded (at most, I could be considered either). I arranged for communication via text messages only and, being down to my last dollar, purchased a cheap burner phone. I made myself available on Friday and Saturday nights.
Other ads I had studied revealed the concept of in-call and out-call. I couldn't bring myself to invite a strange man to my apartment, nor was I really keen on going to his place. I decided to go with an out-call arrangement.
Another important issue I had to address was my price. I needed to earn enough per session that I wouldn't have to do it too many times, but I also had to be mindful of not pricing myself out of potential customers. The ads provided a range of rates for various time increments and certain services. Confused about the pricing system, I proceeded to interpret the ads. I decided that I'd charge $150 for a blowjob and $300 for full-service. I'd gauge the responses before deciding on my future pricing scheme.
What exactly were these unique services meant to be?
I spent a considerable amount of time with my heart beating rapidly before inputting my credit card information and clicking 'send' to post the advertisement. It was posted on their website almost instantly, and I spent the following ten minutes battling an urge to delete it and forego the entire ordeal. While I was pondering my course of action, my recently acquired phone buzzed in my hand.
"Hey, are you free now?"
"Sure. What do you require?"
"Straight sex. How much?"
I was relieved that I had already decided on this. "$300."
He texted me the address and room number, and I recognized the name of the establishment. It was a mid-level motel with outside doors facing a parking lot off of a busy street. So far, so good. A motel seemed safer than going to his house and outside entrances seemed more private than navigating through a lobby where I might encounter someone known to me.
I went into my room and quickly decided what I should wear. I put on a clean thong and tight jeans. I discarded my bra and slipped into a tight t-shirt that highlighted my chest. I hoped that I appeared enticing enough to warrant a tip but not captivating enough that anybody I encountered would discern my intentions. I was dressing slightly more promiscuously than what I usually wear for my typical job but not strikingly different from my attire at the bars on a Saturday night.
Fortunately, I arrived there safely despite being preoccupied with an impending sense of dread. At each intersection, I considered turning back, but I reminisced about my landlord's face and overcame my anxiety until I reached the motel. I drove around until I spotted the room number, drove around one more time, and located a nearby parking spot in case I needed to make a swift exit.
My heart racing, I approached the door and knocked. I was confronting a myriad of emotions: fear, surrender, acceptance, excitement. Truthfully, I was slightly enthralled.
As the door opened and I saw him, I held on to my pepper spray concealed in my bag. I had visited guys' apartments before without knowing whether they were actual serial killers. This may not have been any less perilous, however, it felt worse for some reason, so I added anxiety to my growing list of emotions.
The guy greeted me with a smile and cordially invited me into the room, so I complied. Peering about, I took note of a comfortable queen-sized bed, a table, and a small couch. The bathroom door was open, and the curtains were drawn shut.
He, too, appeared to be ordinary. He was likely in his mid-40s and presented with some signs of balding. He needed to shed a few pounds but nothing overly extreme.
"So, what can I do to please you tonight?" This choice of words left much to be desired, but it sufficed.
"I'd like to re-enact a courtship. Start with a prolonged kiss, touch my breasts, and then engage in intercourse."
Perhaps not the ideal opener, yet it did the trick.
He requested payment, and I readily complied by stuffing the money into my bag. I considered counting it to be somewhat peculiar (and, regrettably, more peculiar than I was anticipating) but instead just accepted it. I now felt bound to the agreement.
When I considered the situation, I had imagined myself lying on the bed naked with my legs spread out for him. Since he had shared his preferences, I realized I should begin with kissing him and progress gradually towards my final destination. I walked up to him, circled my hands around his neck, and pulled him in for a kiss. Breastless, I could feel my chest pressing against his chest, and I pondered whether he could sense my breasts through the fabric.
I had not anticipated his expert kissing abilities. Indeed, he was a remarkable kisser. He gently kissed my lips for a brief while, applied his tongue to my earlobes, and returned to my lips. He kept his lips locked on mine, initiating a passionate kiss. I was momentarily relaxed and opened my mouth, allowing my tongue to connect with his.
When we initiated kissing, his hands were occupied around my waist, but they soon ascended the outside of my t-shirt. He traced my breasts, splaying his fingers apart for added stimulation. Although I would have preferred a slower, gentler touch, it was tolerable. Since he was paying for this experience, my objective was to ensure his satisfaction, no?
Her hands moved from his chest and returned to her back, but only to get under her tank top. Instead of risking it getting ruined, she reached down for the hem and pulled the shirt up and off. She stood in front of him, now with her bare breasts pressed against his chest. His hands went up and down her back as he continued to kiss her. They then slid between them and he groped her again, now playing with her nipples.
She wasn't sure if she should undress the rest of the way or let him undress her. Since she had agreed to a flat rate and time was money, she stepped away from him and unbuttoned her jeans, pushing them down over her hips. She sat down on the bed to take them off, then raised her hips to pull off her thong. After she removed her clothing, she pulled down the bedspread and sat on the edge of the bed, watching him undress. She felt exposed being naked in front of a total stranger, and the range of emotions flowed through her.
The man joined her on the bed, sitting across from her and they faced each other, kissing deeply. His hands continued to massage her breasts and she saw his cock begin to harden. She briefly considered stroking it but instead, she shifted her body away from him and lay down, moving to the middle of the bed. She was lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling, and she lifted her knees to slightly part her thighs. She hadn't typically skipped foreplay, but since her satisfaction wasn't the goal tonight, she wanted to advance things so she could finish the main event quickly.
This seem to be acceptable to him as well, as he sat on the side of the bed and he unwrapped a condom onto his now fully erect cock. She made a note to pack some condoms in her bag to always have one on hand.
He lay down on the bed and moved over to lie next to her. She pulled her knees up more to allow access and smiled at him. "I want you now," she said, hoping it sounded genuine. She truly wanted him now, not because she desired him, but so that they could get it over with.
She didn't know if he interpreted it that way or if it even mattered to him. He rolled on top of her and placed his cock toward her. She grasped it and guided it into her. Fortunately, the kissing and touch had made her wet and the lubricated condom slid easily inside her.
There. She had done it. She was having sex with a complete stranger. His cock was inside her. Not for love, not for fun, but for money.
He slid in and out, and she tried to sync her pelvis movement with his. She began to moan softly as she didn't want to make any loud noises.
The missionary stance rarely led to her orgasm, in fact, it had never happened before. She didn't have any expectations of reaching climax but instead of feeling disappointed, she reminded herself that her customer's satisfaction and orgasm was the goal. Despite this, he had a decently sized cock and it did give her a pleasant sensation of feeling full.
As he lay on top of her and moved in and out, she pondered why he was paying for sex instead of hitting a bar to find someone to hook up with. He wasn't unattractive. He was a good kisser and he seemed competent in bed. Maybe he had been on the road for a while and was away from his spouse or loved one. She wasn't going to ask.
His in and out thrusts sped up and she adjusted her pelvis to match his movements. She increased her moaning volume and wondered if she should fake an orgasm. While she was contemplating this, he thrust into her more deeply and let out an audible moan as he came. He eased his weight onto her and laid fully on top of her, panting. She hugged him tightly.
When he opened his eyes, she returned to her playing her part. "That was amazing! Thank you!"
"I'm glad you liked it," he said. "Did you cum?"
"Oh yes. Couldn't you tell?" He couldn't, but he seemed content with the idea. She told him she needed to use the restroom and he rolled off her. She went into the bathroom, gathered her garments, and then returned to the room. He was lying on the bed naked, staring at the ceiling. She crossed the room and kissed him. He thanked her and she thanked him back. Since repeat customers made for a successful business, she told him he should call her next time he was in town and he agreed. Then she left the room.
While driving home, I realized that losing my virginity again was akin to the experience I was currently going through. Similar to losing it for the first time, I'd only been able to do it once, and it couldn't be undone. Like how having sex for the first time had made it simpler the second time, I wondered if doing it for money could also make it easier and if I desired that ease.
As I pondered over the experience, my feelings about it were mostly of relief. The guy I'd spent the night with didn't seem like a serial killer or someone with such intentions. He was clean, and he hadn't attempted to force me into anything except having sex.
I was content that the condom hadn't broken. In fact, I decided to bring my own next time to ensure its reliability. This reflection also reminded me of how $300 closer I was to paying my rent, which I hoped was a sign that I wouldn't have to face any unforeseen expenses.
I felt a sense of shame after the deed was done and questioned how my friends and family would react if they ever discovered what I had done.
I felt a sense of relief knowing that I had a new source of extra cash, apart from jobs like moving homes or other chores I'd have to do. Although I didn't want to, it would be handy if I ever found myself in financial need.
Anxiety crept in as I thought about the potential dangers I'd exposed myself to.
Yet, I wondered if I was morally justified. If women should control their own bodies, shouldn't that include using them for financial gain? What was wrong with exchanging one's body for cash?
So, considering every aspect, I anticipated doing it again.
* * * * *
Before entering the motel, I'd switched off my burner phone. Upon arriving home, I switched it back on to find a few texts that had piled up. I guessed it wasn't that late, and given how I'd finished with the previous customer quickly, I believed I could fit in one more. Scanning the messages, I discarded those with suspicious undertones. One implied the possibility of anal, which would not be worth the money. I finally found a conversation worth pursuing.
"Meet me in my car tonight. Bring your mouth."
A brand new pickup line, I mused. He wanted a blowjob, I surmised. I messaged "$150 for oral" and got a response with a description of his car and location. A parking garage near a mall was where I'd meet him. I thought about how I'd had anonymous blowjobs in vehicles before. My previous encounters had been more private as I couldn't give oral right at home. However, the mall parking lot wasn't entirely private, but its proximity to other people could make it less risky than more remote areas.
To ensure future safety, I chose to charge less for oral sex, as it involved staying clothed and possibly remaining fully dressed. I packed some condoms and a roll of mints in my bag and drove to where he indicated.
The guy was sitting in the driver's seat and rolled down the window as I approached. He looked younger than I expected and had no obvious signs of danger.
Hoping to break the ice, I made a joke. Pointing at my mouth, I said, "I brought it."
He smiled, displaying the cash he had. "And I brought this."
Knowing that it was important to count the cash, I did. It was the right amount, so I stuffed it into my bag. "Where would you like me to do this?" I asked. He gestured to the back seat of his car, and I nodded. He stepped out of the car, opened the rear door, and settled down with his legs outside the vehicle. I walked toward him.
I cautiously scanned the area and determined that no one was on this level of the garage. I decided it was safe to take off my top. I was not wearing a bra, and the chilly air, along with what I was about to do, caused my nipples to stiffen as I climbed into the backseat of his car. He lifted his legs, bringing his pants down to his ankles. His penis was only half hard, so I stroked it a few times until it was fully erect. I opened a condom package, took it out, and rolled it onto him.
I hesitated, thinking I should leave if he objected, but he didn't. Instead, I leaned forward and began sucking his penis. After a while, I pulled away and continued to slightly jerk him off with my hand as he ejaculated into the condom. I contemplated whether I needed to remove the condom after he came, but I deemed it wasn't my responsibility.
His face held an "I just climaxed" expression, and he didn't utter a word. I rolled off him and exited the vehicle, putting on my top again. Driving away, I noticed him in the same position. To mask the latex taste in my mouth, I popped in a breath mint.
$150 for approximately fifteen minutes' work. I suspected I'd do this again.
************************
Another request the next night justified a return visit. This guy desired uncomplicated sexual intercourse, and upon mentioning the cost, he sent me an address. This time, it was one of the more luxurious hotels in town, and I contemplated whether walking through the lobby wearing a T-shirt with my nipples visible would be a signal alerting others to my purpose. I opted for a polo shirt instead and, remembering the last time, I decided to wear a bra.
The room was exceptionally nice and larger than my prior experience, yet it still felt similar. The significant contrast this time was that he genuinely longed for straightforward sex. He didn't express a desire for kissing or playing with my breasts beforehand, or anything resembling foreplay. When I stepped into his room, he only inquired about cowgirl incurring extra fees. Since I hadn't contemplated varying prices based on positions, I replied with a negative. He handed me the money, which I tallied, proceeding to the bathroom to undress, marveling at the high-end shower.
His contraption was on the bed, and while I was getting prepared, he, too, had removed his clothing. He was lying on his back, stroking his erect penis. I retrieved a condom from my bag, opened it, and slid it over him.
"Is this really necessary?" he asked.
"Unfortunately, it is." To my surprise, he didn't object. I climbed onto the bed, positioning myself astride his legs. I slid up, then up towards his pelvis. My leg lifted, and I placed his penis into me. Owing to the lubricated condom, there was some friction, even though I was not really wet. I gradually descended until my lips reached the condom's base. I leaned forward, setting one hand on either side of his shoulders. My breasts hung over him, prompting him to hold onto them. We moved together, and he lifted his hips in unison with mine.
Due to this rhythm, I became lubricated and he could penetrate me more smoothly. His pelvis rose and fell, thrusting into me while I bounced back down. This repetitive motion aroused me, and I considered the possibility of experiencing an orgasm while I was compensated for intercourse. Sensing my pleasure, he sped up his pace. The experience intensified until I climaxed, clenching his penis within the condom which slowed his pace, but he kept thrusting until he, too, climaxed.
Now, lay off say other peoples work as yours... And repost this as your own, I really need this cash.
All right, I might consider it sometime, but not this time. I could feel him moving inside of me and the tightness of his grip on my breasts, indicating he was nearing climax. I sped up my movements so he couldn't control when it happened. When he stopped, I rested on top of him, deeply within him, allowing him to fully penetrate me. We remained there for a while in silence, then he maneuvered to free himself and got out of the car.
Without saying a word, he walked into the restroom. I followed him in and relieved myself. I checked out the spacious shower stall and had a brief thought of trying it, but ultimately decided against it. Instead, I went back into the stall and dressed. Once I was ready, I rejoined him in the car and he handed me a $50 note. I thanked him, gave him a kiss on the lips, and left the vehicle.
I had enough money to make up the rent with a couple more appointments.
I waited until the next weekend to check my burner phone for any messages. I'd renewed the ad one last time, thinking it would be the final time. There were no messages waiting for a while, and then it beeped.
"Would you like to join me for dinner?"
I thought this might be a real date, but it was the wrong phone. I responded, "Dinner?"
"Yes. I'm in town and I'm just looking for a pretty girl to keep me company for the evening, only dinner, nothing else."
I could do that! I considered what to charge for just dinner, and decided $300 seemed fair. I sent the amount to him, and he replied with the name of a nice restaurant and our reservation time, 7:30 tonight, under the name David.
Having taken a quick shower, I chose an outfit that was both formal and subtly flattering. Instead of something slutty or easy to remove, I opted for a dress that would keep my clothes on. I even wore nylons and heels. I sprayed a bit of perfume between my breasts and on my wrists before heading to the restaurant.
It was with a guy who looked older, maybe late 60s, a tall, thin man with a full head of silver hair. He held the chair for me and referred to me as "pretty girl" multiple times while we ate. He even gave me an envelope with some money in it. I politely accepted, waiting until we were out of the restaurant to take a peek. Turns out, he offered me $300, which was great since I'd asked for that amount.
We chatted about a variety of topics, from where I grew up to books and movies. He never asked any probing questions about my background, which I appreciated. He mentioned he was visiting his daughter and her family here. I returned the favor by discussing my ordinary job and personal interests. He showed great interest and recommended a current author I should read. The time flew by, and when the server came with the bill, he told me he'd like to meet me again the next time he's in town. I eagerly agreed and meant it.
As for the following experience, it wasn't quite as pleasant. It was yet another meet me in my car proposition, but he wanted it all. I wasn't keen on performing such an act in public, but the prospect of doubling my fee meant $600 could be mine. So, I found myself in the far corner of a parking lot at a closed strip mall, having sex in a car. The possibility of someone pulling in and catching us disconcerted me.
When he'd finished, I put my clothes back on and handed him another $50 note. After that, I left the car, thanking him for the encounter and the money.
I now had enough to cover my rent for a few more months.
(Some of the formatting is different due to assembling the text from snippets.)
He didn't request that I get undressed, just that he wanted to lay me. Taking this into consideration, I opted for a casual dress that could be lifted instead of slacks that would have to be removed. Furthermore, I chose not to wear a bra, and even wore underwear with no support. My dress proved satisfactory for him. Following his payment, I put the money in my automobile and braced myself against the side of his car.
The man removed his trousers and I observed him as he applied the condom I handed him. I elevated my dress to my abdomen, separated my legs apart, and coated myself with the water-based lubricant I had grown to bring along. I steadied myself against the vehicle, and he placed his hands on my hips. Then, without an invitation or any form of foreplay, he entered me. I stood still while he penetrated me, seemingly only stimulating himself in my vagina, though it was passable. Though it may not have been the most enjoyable sex I've ever experienced, it wasn't the worst, and I guess that's a good thing because I doubled my normal rate.
Now, I had amassed the necessary funds to cover my rent and even save an additional sum for an emergency fund. I've been researching financial management and have set a goal of having at least two months' income stashed away. Yep, I'm officially growing up. Please don't let my mother know about this.
Consequently, as I become more accountable financially, I suppose I'll have to keep my secondary profession for a while to accumulate that money.
Read also:
- Slim, Youthful, and Well-Endowed in Part 2
- Who's More Skilled at Taunting?
- Recruiter Chapter 5: Engaging Storylines
- North Hillside Chapter 2
Source: www.nice-escort.de
