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I ended up driving 45 minutes to meet a guy who then drove me to his house. This dude was like 50, heavy cigarette smoker, smelled like booze. I told him I was He smoked a few bowls, talked about jazz, and then very creepily went on and on about my boobs. I jerked him for like 30 minutes with this horrible rose-scented lotion, blew him, and eventually we had sex. I was impressed he could get it up with how high he was and figured he must be on something else.

When I got off him there was no condom on his dick and I freaked until I realized it was still inside me. All in all, not a horrible first experience, but also not wonderful. I was studying med at the time and I was short on money. So one time, this guy made me what seemed like a lucrative offer and I agreed. We initially met in a park at night, sat in his very, very nice car, had a bit of a flirty chat, then made an appointment. He said he was 58 years old, but I think he was about years older than that.

A week or two later, I drove over to his apartment. I was petrified, but I needed the money so I rang the doorbell. It was a lovely apartment, and he paid upfront. He was nice enough. Had a shower, bit of a chat afterwards, and then he kissed me goodbye on the cheek. I think the fact that I said no to rimming annoyed him a little, but he texted later and asked if I would like to do a threesome with another working girl.

Things proceeded from there. I drank a heap of wine before I went to the agency. This was about 2. I did booking after booking and went home with a massive wad of cash. I just loved the rush of being booked and making so much money.

The industry is dead over here now and I have no idea why. I thought my heart was going to burst out of my chest. But it ended up very well. The first guy was really nice.

It was somewhat… boring. We started out with small talk, he offered me a bowl, which I refused. He smoked a little and then eventually kissed me. He had a bit of an ass fetish, I let him eat my asshole and lightly spank me, and then I let him put it in my ass- I figured that it was my first client, I should do a good job.

I still see him from time to time, and he always tips very well. Along with the occasional gift of art or books. He paid me for an hour without question and I never saw him again.

I still escort from time to time. Fucked twice, I gave him a blowjob while he was on the phone talking with people he was working with. Immediately afterwards, on the drive back, I was just so utterly dumbfounded that I got paid that much to fuck a guy that was theoretically dating material if he had the time to date. When I was 18 I was tight on cash and decided, fuck it. I need a sugar daddy. I went on craigslist and found a guy. He wanted to meet me first and needed a new girl to replace his old one, he was willing to pay 4 figures per date.

I drove to meet him and was stuck in traffic on the way for an hour or two. I sat at a Starbucks for a while waiting, he got lost because he was only there on a business trip. I was shaking by the time he came. We got burgers and drinks and sat at a table waiting for everything, talking.

He was sweet but not my type, I was so nervous and shaking. We got to his hotel and sat and talked and ate, then started getting frisky. He would not stop talking about how amazing I looked and was and I know he was trying to flatter me but after a while it got really old. I stayed the night and left in the morning.

He gave me money for gas. Then I found this married guy. We talked, I sent him pictures of myself and he was hooked. I was an anal virgin and reaaallly hesitant about it. Drove an hour to a motel in his town to see him. The way everyone looked at me, I knew they knew what I was there for. I knocked on the door, it opened. I stepped inside where the lights were off, kept my eyes to the ground.

He came up to me and started stroking my arms, my face. He instructed me to put the blindfold on and I did. I hated every minute of it. I lost my anal virginity to him and it was painful and I cried. I could feel his fat slapping against my stomach, he kissed me with his bushy beard tickling my face and I fucking hated it, I wanted to vomit. I cried all the way home.

He was nuts about me, wanted to take me on trips and buy me an apartment in his town and all that. I agreed to meet him again, but no anal and no kissing. The second time he was coked out and had a hard time keeping it up. I had to awkwardly console him while he beat himself up over it, and suck his flaccid dick several times. Once he gave up on the whole thing and admitted defeat, I packed everything up and sat at the edge of the bed. He brought my money and placed it in my hands, and told me to look at him.

I was still wearing the blindfold and I shook my head. He took it off of me and told me to look at him. He was wearing a bandana that covered most of his face except his eyes. He had lovely eyes, and it made me want to cry when I thought of his wife. I had a sick mind, I had a dirty side, and only he could fulfill it. He messaged me a few times over the next year but I kept telling him no, no matter what price he gave me.

Just after high school, my girlfriend got a job as an escort. It was back when pagers were cool, for reference. I dropped her off at work on her first night. The place was in a strip mall, just a little spot that looked like a half-empty travel agency or insurance shop. She paged me pretty quick. I picked her up and we drove to a McDonalds and got coffee.

She was a wreck. She said that she told them she was going on a break, but that she wanted me to take her home. The customer obviously wanted to have sex, and she was totally blindsided by this. She even wore one of her nicest dresses. Long story short, she ended up just watching the guy masturbate before fleeing the place and getting driven back to the office.

Then I picked her up and she never went back. The thing I remember most clearly was when she was describing it to me. She was disillusioned, incredulous. Pictures of his family! I remember the first time I accepted money for sex. A guy messaged me on a gay dating site.

I knew I was down immediately. So I went to his place. As a 28 year old adult now, I think — what the fuck… that guy could have murdered me. He could have raped me. He could have cut my skin off to wear it like a dress.

I pulled out my dick, started jacking off, and once I was hard he sucked me to completion. Thank you very much. I never had to make them cum. They just wanted to make me cum. It was all about letting these guys fantasize that they had gotten me without paying for me. He wanted someone to cuddle with, rub against. We stayed in our underwear. A year before I had been approached by a friend of my sister who offered me a job as an escort. I have no idea what I was thinking. Looking back, my first appointment was a disaster.

John was exceptionally patient but I was so anxious. We had a drink, smoked a bowl, and he offered me some coke. Never have done coke before, I hoped it would help my nerves and obliged myself to his offer. I had brought a bag of lingerie and offered to model it for him. Somehow this was sufficient for him and the drive home later was to this day one of the most fun drives I have ever had. Of all the things in life I am thankful for, few rate higher than my dislike of coke.

Instead of getting sucked into all that, I got myself out of debt, bought a house and went back to school. Graduated two weeks ago debt free with one of the most sought after degrees from a prestigious school. It has been a lifestyle that has served me well, I have met amazing people and had unforgettable experiences that would otherwise been impossible.

Retiring is one of the harder things I have to do but in three months I hang up my heels and am walking away. I still see John, of course I fuck him now. I have spent a third of my life as a prostitute but I have a beautiful home with big diploma on the wall, happy kid, multiple vehicles in my garage, and the world an open possibility. I am a very lucky lady. It was in a Travelodge classy! And I was super nervous. The guy was around 50 I was twenty at the time and he mainly wanted to make out and cuddle.

The thing that weirded me out a little was he kept talking about how young I was and asked me for my real name several times I had a fake name for obvious reasons. I was reluctant to give him my real name and instead just gave him another fake name — I told him my real name was Elizabeth but my friends called me Lizzie and he called me Lizzie for the remainder of the appointment — then had the cheek to try and haggle me down for an extra hour which I declined.

I was 22, just graduated with a BA in a major that would make me no money. Moved in with my parents and was on a downward spiral. We sat on the couch and talked a little bit. He ran a small business, divorced, overweight, 40s. Really ordinary and quite nice, actually. He took me into the bedroom and there were lit candles and a bottle of lube on the nightstand. I liked him, so I kept going until he finished — maybe another 20 minutes? After we finished he thanked me and we hugged. He suggested that next time he make a spaghetti dinner and we could eat and get to know each other.

It all happened over Thanksgiving break my freshman year college. After weeding through all of the messages I got, I found a guy that was actually attractive and had chemistry with.

So we decide to meet up at his place. The drive over I almost turned around 5 times, I was so nervous. I know on his door and he looks mostly like his pics, just a little older and shorter than I was led to believe haha. Its both of our first times so we have no idea what to do.

We sit on the couch, talk and put on a movie. Afterwards we go to the bedroom and fool around and do everything but sex I was too nervous. It was great and I spent the night. All-in-all, he was a super nice guy but ended up getting too attached: I have a Ph. We began discussing sexual proclivities, then of course it turned to our own, we shared several compatibilities, and she confessed that she wanted to explore some kinky fantasies she had, and wondered if I would write her some erotic fiction on a number of themes.

I agreed, and she enjoyed them immensely. We talked more in-depth over the course of a month, had chatsex, swapped pictures, and so forth. A month after we first talked, she offered to fly me to her, put me up in a hotel for two weeks, and pay me a sum of money to act out her fantasies with her. Two weeks of the utter legal limits of debauchery aside from the fact of the exchange of money for companionship and services ensued. Sex while reciting poetry, sex while drunk, sex in public, sex at a private party with an audience, domination, submission, role-play, on the roof of a high-rise in a thunderstorm half-expecting to die of a lightning strike.

Waking up tired, sore, bruised, and mildly dehydrated was the norm. I tied her up, suspended her in a web of ropes, and thrummed them with a cello bow until she orgasmed from the sensation and the verbal accompaniment. Far darker things we did. Over time, we met for sex a few more instances — but we inevitably had developed feelings for each other, and so discontinued the business end of the arrangement. Some of what I wrote for her and that we wrote together has since been published under a pen name, with a little commercial success.

This was only a few months ago. I was still 18 at the time and I moved out on my own. I got a lot of attention and started to talk to a lot of men but never actually went through any of it.

That was until a month later or so and I got desperate and finally accepted an offer from one guy I had been talking to for a while. When the night came along, he booked a hotel, and I went over there some time that evening.

How long have you been working as an escort? Why would somebody want to sleep with this particular ideal? What kind of images does one need to project in order to get the other person off? It all seemed incredibly barbaric and primal to me, though I now appreciate that aspect of it. This curiosity grew as the wave of erudite sex-workers hit the blogosphere, right when I was about sixteen.

I also read the Nancy Chan column on Salon. It gave me an open mind about this kind of work. Years went by; I moved out to a new country for university, lived alone, had complete freedom from both family and friends. I had a lot of casual sex, though I was never paid for it.

It was a serious education in both sex itself and learning about the utter disposability of having multiple partners. An armour was built, so to speak.

She had a few stripper friends in the city, who pointed her in the direction of a woman-run agency. She started first and her enthusiasm drove me to finally see it for myself. Are you open about being an escort? Why or why not? I am open with two friends: Being closed about my job is a choice, not a necessity. The decision to keep mum has more to do with sustaining this duality——keeping my job and life separate. Did you come from a religious background?

How do you think your family would react if they knew? My father, bless his argyle socks, put a lot of emphasis on education. He taught me to question everything——including authority, which has led me to become a lot more independent, which is a huge part of why sex work appeals to me.

My stepfather is a champ. Keeping work and life separate, and all that. I get up and go to school. I annoy fellow subway-riders with my bag, swinging with the combined weight of laptop and novels.

My professor waxes lyrical about Pablo Neruda. I giggle at the irony of my romantic education, standing in such sharp contrast to my work. My shifts begin at six and end at twelve; this means the earliest possible appointment can start at six and the latest start at twelve.

I like working the nights I have school; this de-clutters my weekend plans. With most clients you are allowed to dress the way you like, which is great; the agency encourages this in order for us to feel as comfortable in our own skin as possible, thus supposedly providing a better experience.

We go out to dinner. Let them talk; get to know them first. They will ask about you, in which I give half-honest answers. I lie about specifics, like location. In his apartment we have a glass of wine. Most of them enjoy simple pleasures——a naked woman, an attractive one, is often enough. We shower after, separately. We lounge around on the bed, discussing his work week.

This is usually an introduction to a stress-induced knot on his back, his shoulders. I straddle him and pummel those spots in an attempt at massage, though his soft snoring indicates satisfaction. The driver calls at exactly We kiss goodbye; I promise to let him pick the restaurant next week.

This includes the pay, which is given in cash; it includes the compliments, which are lavishly given without question as these men are old-school gentlemen; it includes the sex, which is conducted without the awkward conversation or attachment or emotional baggage. Moonlighting is exhausting in any context and both this work and my education require a decent amount of mental stimulation. Is there much of a community around working as an escort?

Have you formed friendships with other women at your agency? Who do you look to for guidance or help? What are your relationships like with the men you see?

Are they ongoing or once-off situations? All of them are ongoing, which makes for a much better relationship. Getting to know a client is just like getting to know anybody else——a potential friend or lover, and in this case both. They range from their thirties to mid-fifties, and are all very successful at what they do, though not always socially adept.

None of them are currently married; a couple are divorced. They want to get all that they can out of the experience. Does that affect the quality of your work? Also, like any other girl, I become a bit of a tongue-tied idiot around an attractive man.

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Tipped on top of the hourly rate, which was always appreciated and made me choose to see him over other clients in the future. I have dozens of other stories if anyone is interested in hearing! I had female friends in the industry so I already knew what a normal job would be like.

In a typical booking, you meet, chat for a bit, sort out business, ask the client to shower then get down to business. For me, that generally includes a massage, foreplay, sex and a fair bit of conversation. The girl who booked me then drops this bombshell on me:. I do my best to remain calm and collected and we all enjoy ourselves before the birthday girl shows up. They all turn out to be lovely girls and we all had a fun night. No actual sex but there were a few shenanigans that went on.

I used to hair model from time to time for wedding photographers and hair salons, so I have a few headshots floating around on different modeling websites and stock images. One day, I got an e-mail from a photographer that said he was practicing drawing and needed a nude male model to practice form.

I was saving up for a plane ticket to come home to surprise my parents for spring break, so figured this would be an easy way to make a connection in the art industry as well as pick up some cash. We agreed on a time, he gave me his number and we talked on the phone to voice verify, as well as the studio that we would be working at. When I arrived at the location, he was waiting there and said that the studio had been booked out to the night, and so he asked if I wanted to grab some food and then head to a hotel so we could just pose and draw there.

We had dinner, made small talk about church and what I was studying at my University, and eventually got a cheap hotel room in downtown Nashville. Eventually I got naked, and he asked if I thought I could get an erection so he could draw it.

I said maybe, and he asked if he could help. I declined at first and attempted to get an erection, but eventually he said that he wanted to help and came over to me and started jerking me off.

I gave up struggling and he gave me a blowjob while he laid on me and kept me down. I was so scared that I came in about 2 minutes. I went back to my dorm and cried, not knowing if I just became a prostitute or got sexually assaulted.

Sometimes I get contacted by him, and got a couple messages from him while he was drunk, but I just ignore them and try to forget about it. This sounds awful, but I was so desperate for money that I posted on Craigslist. I basically asked people to bid to see who I would go with.

I ended up driving 45 minutes to meet a guy who then drove me to his house. This dude was like 50, heavy cigarette smoker, smelled like booze. I told him I was He smoked a few bowls, talked about jazz, and then very creepily went on and on about my boobs. I jerked him for like 30 minutes with this horrible rose-scented lotion, blew him, and eventually we had sex. I was impressed he could get it up with how high he was and figured he must be on something else. When I got off him there was no condom on his dick and I freaked until I realized it was still inside me.

All in all, not a horrible first experience, but also not wonderful. I was studying med at the time and I was short on money. So one time, this guy made me what seemed like a lucrative offer and I agreed. We initially met in a park at night, sat in his very, very nice car, had a bit of a flirty chat, then made an appointment. He said he was 58 years old, but I think he was about years older than that. A week or two later, I drove over to his apartment.

I was petrified, but I needed the money so I rang the doorbell. It was a lovely apartment, and he paid upfront. He was nice enough.

Had a shower, bit of a chat afterwards, and then he kissed me goodbye on the cheek. I think the fact that I said no to rimming annoyed him a little, but he texted later and asked if I would like to do a threesome with another working girl. Things proceeded from there. I drank a heap of wine before I went to the agency. This was about 2.

I did booking after booking and went home with a massive wad of cash. I just loved the rush of being booked and making so much money. The industry is dead over here now and I have no idea why. I thought my heart was going to burst out of my chest. But it ended up very well. The first guy was really nice. It was somewhat… boring. We started out with small talk, he offered me a bowl, which I refused.

He smoked a little and then eventually kissed me. He had a bit of an ass fetish, I let him eat my asshole and lightly spank me, and then I let him put it in my ass- I figured that it was my first client, I should do a good job.

I still see him from time to time, and he always tips very well. Along with the occasional gift of art or books. He paid me for an hour without question and I never saw him again. I still escort from time to time. Fucked twice, I gave him a blowjob while he was on the phone talking with people he was working with. Immediately afterwards, on the drive back, I was just so utterly dumbfounded that I got paid that much to fuck a guy that was theoretically dating material if he had the time to date.

When I was 18 I was tight on cash and decided, fuck it. I need a sugar daddy. I went on craigslist and found a guy. He wanted to meet me first and needed a new girl to replace his old one, he was willing to pay 4 figures per date. I drove to meet him and was stuck in traffic on the way for an hour or two. I sat at a Starbucks for a while waiting, he got lost because he was only there on a business trip. I was shaking by the time he came. We got burgers and drinks and sat at a table waiting for everything, talking.

He was sweet but not my type, I was so nervous and shaking. We got to his hotel and sat and talked and ate, then started getting frisky. He would not stop talking about how amazing I looked and was and I know he was trying to flatter me but after a while it got really old.

I stayed the night and left in the morning. He gave me money for gas. Then I found this married guy. We talked, I sent him pictures of myself and he was hooked. I was an anal virgin and reaaallly hesitant about it. Drove an hour to a motel in his town to see him. The way everyone looked at me, I knew they knew what I was there for. I knocked on the door, it opened. I stepped inside where the lights were off, kept my eyes to the ground. He came up to me and started stroking my arms, my face. He instructed me to put the blindfold on and I did.

I hated every minute of it. I lost my anal virginity to him and it was painful and I cried. I could feel his fat slapping against my stomach, he kissed me with his bushy beard tickling my face and I fucking hated it, I wanted to vomit. I cried all the way home.

He was nuts about me, wanted to take me on trips and buy me an apartment in his town and all that. I agreed to meet him again, but no anal and no kissing. The second time he was coked out and had a hard time keeping it up.

I had to awkwardly console him while he beat himself up over it, and suck his flaccid dick several times. Once he gave up on the whole thing and admitted defeat, I packed everything up and sat at the edge of the bed. He brought my money and placed it in my hands, and told me to look at him. I was still wearing the blindfold and I shook my head. He took it off of me and told me to look at him. He was wearing a bandana that covered most of his face except his eyes. He had lovely eyes, and it made me want to cry when I thought of his wife.

I had a sick mind, I had a dirty side, and only he could fulfill it. He messaged me a few times over the next year but I kept telling him no, no matter what price he gave me. Just after high school, my girlfriend got a job as an escort.

It was back when pagers were cool, for reference. I dropped her off at work on her first night. The place was in a strip mall, just a little spot that looked like a half-empty travel agency or insurance shop. She paged me pretty quick. I picked her up and we drove to a McDonalds and got coffee. She was a wreck. She said that she told them she was going on a break, but that she wanted me to take her home. The customer obviously wanted to have sex, and she was totally blindsided by this.

She even wore one of her nicest dresses. Long story short, she ended up just watching the guy masturbate before fleeing the place and getting driven back to the office. Then I picked her up and she never went back. The thing I remember most clearly was when she was describing it to me. She was disillusioned, incredulous. Pictures of his family! I remember the first time I accepted money for sex.

A guy messaged me on a gay dating site. I knew I was down immediately. So I went to his place. As a 28 year old adult now, I think — what the fuck… that guy could have murdered me. He could have raped me. He could have cut my skin off to wear it like a dress. I pulled out my dick, started jacking off, and once I was hard he sucked me to completion.

Thank you very much. I never had to make them cum. They just wanted to make me cum. It was all about letting these guys fantasize that they had gotten me without paying for me.

He wanted someone to cuddle with, rub against. We stayed in our underwear. A year before I had been approached by a friend of my sister who offered me a job as an escort.

I have no idea what I was thinking. Looking back, my first appointment was a disaster. John was exceptionally patient but I was so anxious. We had a drink, smoked a bowl, and he offered me some coke. Never have done coke before, I hoped it would help my nerves and obliged myself to his offer. I had brought a bag of lingerie and offered to model it for him. Somehow this was sufficient for him and the drive home later was to this day one of the most fun drives I have ever had.

Of all the things in life I am thankful for, few rate higher than my dislike of coke. Instead of getting sucked into all that, I got myself out of debt, bought a house and went back to school. Graduated two weeks ago debt free with one of the most sought after degrees from a prestigious school.

It has been a lifestyle that has served me well, I have met amazing people and had unforgettable experiences that would otherwise been impossible. Retiring is one of the harder things I have to do but in three months I hang up my heels and am walking away. I still see John, of course I fuck him now.

I have spent a third of my life as a prostitute but I have a beautiful home with big diploma on the wall, happy kid, multiple vehicles in my garage, and the world an open possibility. I am a very lucky lady. It was in a Travelodge classy! And I was super nervous. The guy was around 50 I was twenty at the time and he mainly wanted to make out and cuddle. The thing that weirded me out a little was he kept talking about how young I was and asked me for my real name several times I had a fake name for obvious reasons.

I was reluctant to give him my real name and instead just gave him another fake name — I told him my real name was Elizabeth but my friends called me Lizzie and he called me Lizzie for the remainder of the appointment — then had the cheek to try and haggle me down for an extra hour which I declined. I was 22, just graduated with a BA in a major that would make me no money. Moved in with my parents and was on a downward spiral.

We sat on the couch and talked a little bit. He ran a small business, divorced, overweight, 40s. Really ordinary and quite nice, actually.

He took me into the bedroom and there were lit candles and a bottle of lube on the nightstand. I liked him, so I kept going until he finished — maybe another 20 minutes? After we finished he thanked me and we hugged. He suggested that next time he make a spaghetti dinner and we could eat and get to know each other. It all happened over Thanksgiving break my freshman year college. After weeding through all of the messages I got, I found a guy that was actually attractive and had chemistry with.

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