I Had Sex For Money. I’m No Bargain Fuck

Big Drew, let me tell you right now, the best thing about escorting is money. Before each and every call you have no idea what you’ll be walking into, unless it’s a regular, you don’t know what’s on the other side of that door. You don’t know if you’ll be safe or if you’ll have to use every shred of will power you have at your disposal to actual fuck the person standing in front of you, so those few minutes between getting out of the car and walking up to that door are filled with so much anxiety, it’s all you can do to keep your lunch down, look pretty, and smile.

Most of the time, when that door opens you let out a good old breath of relief, because the person you’re about to fuck five ways to Sunday is actually normal looking, doesn’t mean you any harm, and is a complete stranger (I can’t tell you how many hookers are paranoid about opening that hotel door and finding their uncle, or some other relative, on the other side).

My point is, that there’s a lot of anxiety at the beginning, then there’s the rush of fucking and sometimes even an orgasm or two, and then when you leave with all this cash in your pocket, you get this incredible adrenaline rush. Oh the relief, the sweet relied that everything went smoothly is so intense it’s like walking on air and you can’t believe how much cash you just made in under an hour. It makes all minimum wage jobs impossible to hold down if you decide to go “straight” for a while. Who the hell wants to wake up at 7 in the morning and sell coffee for 8 hours straight for less money than you could make in twenty minute giving some dude a handy?!

No one, that’s who.

It’s not all fun and games though, there are some real jerks out there, and thankfully even if you’re paying someone for sex, they can say no. That’s everyone’s god given right. If I don’t like the cut of your jibe, I can turn on my heels and walk out the damn door.

I only said no once. The guy lived in a tiny, dirty apartment with an equally dirty cot in the corner. He smelled bad, had hair growing out of his ears, and had a look on his face that could get a person arrested. So there I was, my insides screaming “God, I do not want this person to touch me” and the dude had the nerve to try and haggle the price.

Money always comes first. Sorry to ruin the fantasy for you, but you gotta get that shit settled before moving on to the more delectable parts of the evening, but this dude wouldn’t give it up. “No, no, after” he kept saying. I stood firm though and repeated the agreed upon amount. Between his “no, no, after” and his “I’ll give you a hundred now and the rest after,” I was not a happy camper hooker.

I suddenly became aware of how small the room truly was, and that this very fat man was blocking my way to the door. When he saw me look past him to my only exit, he reached behind him and locked the door. By now, I was starting to panic a little. I didn’t know what the hell to do, I hadn’t called my driver yet, but even though this whole encounter seemed to have been going on for ages, I hadn’t been in that apartment for more than 5 minutes.

I made a move for the bed and when he turned to follow me, I passed on the other side of him and went straight out that door. Freedom, at last. Fresh air had never tasted so good.

My driver and the other hooker who was working that night we’re quietly sitting in the car, parked right in front of the building, waiting for my call before they could move on to their next destination. I was so happy they were still there. I got in the car, with less money than I would have made that night, but what can I say, I’m no bargain fuck. Except in real life, where I don’t care if you’re thirty and still live with your parents.

“Except in real life, where I don’t care if you’re thirty and still live with your parents.” SpursFan?

Click Here to see the pick of the other Hooker. Nik Richie Approved. -Big Drew