After my first 'job', I actually felt more confident, confident in myself and in my new work.
I resolved to take around 3 clients a day, so that I would have plenty of time to clean up in between and be mentally prepared for each client. It may sound strange, but I did feel like I was providing a service and that my clients were paying for an experience, and not an experience with a haggard, horrible, sloppy whore. I really did go out of my way to make sure that I was always welcoming and encouraging.
The day after I did my first job, B went and did ten.It's like she was competing, to make up for me going first. She was sore, she was out of work for a week just to heal. We were very different in our approaches.
Soon enough, we were approached to do a threesome. B and I had never fooled around with each other, although I had fooled around with other women before. She was a little nervous, but I promised to take the lead and not make her do anything she was uncomfortable with.
Our 'date' showed up and he was actually really handsome.We had some wine before he showed up, and by the time he got there we were really relaxed and comfortable. We went into the bedroom where he directed us to start making out. I could tell B had never kissed another girl before, that or she just wasn't a very good kisser in general. I decided to just go for it and began just ravishing her as if we were old lovers. It was very easy to take myself out of the current situation and pretend I was making love to some beautiful woman in some small European villa.
I have always been more submissive when it comes to sex, but B was downright passive. She just lay there and let me undress her, let me touch her and kiss all over without so much as moving. When I lifted up her skirt and started kissing her thighs, I could tell she was nervous, that was the only time she moved. I came up and kissed her mouth, and whispered to her to just pretend I was someone she was in love with. I moved down and started to eat her out, and this time she really got into it, she was tugging on my hair and making these little noises in her throat.
Our client had been watching and just touching himself up until this point, and I had almost forgotten he was there. I heard him opening a condom and all of a sudden he was inside me, pounding away. He kept pushing my head down into B's cunt and telling me I was a 'bad girl' and that this was my punishment. It was almost hot. When he was about to finish, he pulled out and had us both give him head, typical male fantasy I suppose. After he came, he pulled out a wad of bills and handed them to me while B showed him out. He ended up paying us $300 each. I was...surprised. And thrilled. B and I decided to get cleaned up, and while I was in the shower she came in and told me no one had ever done what I did so well. I was a little flattered.
We decided to go and have dinner together, and we decided to set up one or two days a week that would be 'doubles days', days when we would do threesomes (or more), and the rest of the week we'd do our solo acts. It actually worked out quite well, there turned out to be a real demand for two girls providing threesomes, and we made quite a bit of cash. When I agreed to let B move in with me, the deal was that we would split everything 50/50.
B was going through what I want to call her quarter-life crisis. She had a child who was about 3 at this time, but whom she'd left in another state with her parents. She would sometimes talk about going back and bringing her little girl here, but there was no way we could have a child around while we were doing this type of work. She really didn't care about her little girl, she would often say 'I just don't want people to think I'm a bad person, but I don't even want her at all'. So she had this whole thing where on one hand she would say she wanted her kid (mostly when she was around single men), and not really wanting to be a parent at all. She began drinking heavily and partying constantly, which was really the polar opposite of me. I had wine occasionally, but that was the extent of my drinking, and I was never a club/bar/party constantly type of person. She would get mad when I wouldn't go with her, I'd get mad when she'd stay out all night bring drunk people home.
As time went on, I started to think B wasn't right in her head. There were some subtle flags, but I chose to ignore them because I'm loyal to my friends, and B was my best friend.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Saturday, August 21, 2010
A little background
A little backstory on myself, E, and B.
B and I met in high school and became best friends almost immediately. We were pretty much inseparable, constantly having sleep overs, hanging out in between classes, all the silly shit high school girls do.
Her family ended up moving away during her senior year, so we parted ways promising to keep in touch, though we never really did until years later.
Meanwhile I stayed in town, finished up high school and started some college. I wasn't going full time, I was just kind of dicking around until I figured out what I wanted to do in my life.
I met E when I was 19 and we started dating. He was...well, he was different. Not conventionally handsome, but sweet in an awkwardly weird way. He broke my heart, but we'll get there.
We dated for around a year or so, and make no mistake, he was very good to me. He was just very...I suppose 'uppity' would be the word, but not in an elitist, entitled sense, more of a "I've read a lot of self-help books and am therefore wiser than you in the ways of life" way. I think almost everyone has met this type, and they can be incredibly ingratiating. I remember he didn't have a car when we were dating, and it was awkward that I drove him everywhere. I've always kind of been into gender roles.
He was a few years older than I was, and I really did adore him. I looked up to him, and thought that one day we'd be married. He was sent to Iraq with the first waves of troops we were sending over after 9/11 happened, and I missed him terribly. I wrote to him all the time and he wrote back often.
I went to visit my sister in another state when he called me one evening. He said he'd met another girl online, and that he'd never really seen himself marrying me, anyway. This girl, though, this K, she was something. Her brother died in Iraq. She'd lost a leg in a horseback riding injury. She was interesting in a way I was not. He was dumping me. I got dumped from another country (oddly, this was not the last time this would happen).
After that, I was completely devastated for a while. A very long while.
I decided to stay at my sister's place a while longer, and while I was there I met someone. We ended up moving in together and I got a job, and thought maybe I'd work things out. E2 was much older than I was at the time. I was around 20 when E and I broke up, E2 was 34. I don't honestly know what I saw in him when I look back, he was a raging alcoholic and drank so often and so much that he would wet the bed. Every. Night.
The breaking point with E2 was when he got incredibly drunk one night, and hid upstairs because he thought I was cheating on him. In his stupor, he pushed me down a flight of stairs. The next day I moved out and went over to a friend's house. I stayed with her until I met a charming young lesbian and we went back to her home state together. Things didn't really work out there, so I eventually went back to my home state. That was my first actual lesbian relationship. I'd fooled around with other women before, sure, but never actually dated one. She was insane. Incredibly jealous, demanding, needy. I honestly felt like writing an apology to men after dating her, and I do like to think it helped make me a bit more understand in my hetero relationships.
After I got back home, I kind of ended up in a polygamous relationship. I met a guy, he was in a relationship, we three would hang out quite often, and he kind of brought up it one night. Everyone was comfortable with the situation, and we were a trio for around a year or so. Eventually I outgrew the relationship and moved on, but I do still remember them fondly. My life sometimes takes very weird turns, but I regret very little.
Anyway, B eventually found me on the internet and we began talking again. We did a lot of catching up, and found out we had both changed considerably. Still got on quite well, though, all things considered. I had just moved out of the polygamy house and into my own quiet little place. She had gotten back into the area and was staying with some work friends with whom she really wasn't getting along, so I offered her my spare room. She moved in and we got along quite well, for a while anyway. We would often go and visit E, who was also back in town and newly divorced. It turned out that K, the girl he was so in love with and dumped me for all those years ago was a pathological liar. She never had a brother. She did not lose her leg in a horseback riding injury. While they were married though, she did pack her leg in dry ice so it would have to be amputated. She thought if she lost a limb, E would never leave her. He didn't. She ended up dumping him for a migrant worker. I only wish I was making all this up right now.
So that is pretty much what happened up to the time B and I started working "the job", as we called it.
I know this was a lengthy read and probably not sexy at all, but it will help you understand the things to come.
B and I met in high school and became best friends almost immediately. We were pretty much inseparable, constantly having sleep overs, hanging out in between classes, all the silly shit high school girls do.
Her family ended up moving away during her senior year, so we parted ways promising to keep in touch, though we never really did until years later.
Meanwhile I stayed in town, finished up high school and started some college. I wasn't going full time, I was just kind of dicking around until I figured out what I wanted to do in my life.
I met E when I was 19 and we started dating. He was...well, he was different. Not conventionally handsome, but sweet in an awkwardly weird way. He broke my heart, but we'll get there.
We dated for around a year or so, and make no mistake, he was very good to me. He was just very...I suppose 'uppity' would be the word, but not in an elitist, entitled sense, more of a "I've read a lot of self-help books and am therefore wiser than you in the ways of life" way. I think almost everyone has met this type, and they can be incredibly ingratiating. I remember he didn't have a car when we were dating, and it was awkward that I drove him everywhere. I've always kind of been into gender roles.
He was a few years older than I was, and I really did adore him. I looked up to him, and thought that one day we'd be married. He was sent to Iraq with the first waves of troops we were sending over after 9/11 happened, and I missed him terribly. I wrote to him all the time and he wrote back often.
I went to visit my sister in another state when he called me one evening. He said he'd met another girl online, and that he'd never really seen himself marrying me, anyway. This girl, though, this K, she was something. Her brother died in Iraq. She'd lost a leg in a horseback riding injury. She was interesting in a way I was not. He was dumping me. I got dumped from another country (oddly, this was not the last time this would happen).
After that, I was completely devastated for a while. A very long while.
I decided to stay at my sister's place a while longer, and while I was there I met someone. We ended up moving in together and I got a job, and thought maybe I'd work things out. E2 was much older than I was at the time. I was around 20 when E and I broke up, E2 was 34. I don't honestly know what I saw in him when I look back, he was a raging alcoholic and drank so often and so much that he would wet the bed. Every. Night.
The breaking point with E2 was when he got incredibly drunk one night, and hid upstairs because he thought I was cheating on him. In his stupor, he pushed me down a flight of stairs. The next day I moved out and went over to a friend's house. I stayed with her until I met a charming young lesbian and we went back to her home state together. Things didn't really work out there, so I eventually went back to my home state. That was my first actual lesbian relationship. I'd fooled around with other women before, sure, but never actually dated one. She was insane. Incredibly jealous, demanding, needy. I honestly felt like writing an apology to men after dating her, and I do like to think it helped make me a bit more understand in my hetero relationships.
After I got back home, I kind of ended up in a polygamous relationship. I met a guy, he was in a relationship, we three would hang out quite often, and he kind of brought up it one night. Everyone was comfortable with the situation, and we were a trio for around a year or so. Eventually I outgrew the relationship and moved on, but I do still remember them fondly. My life sometimes takes very weird turns, but I regret very little.
Anyway, B eventually found me on the internet and we began talking again. We did a lot of catching up, and found out we had both changed considerably. Still got on quite well, though, all things considered. I had just moved out of the polygamy house and into my own quiet little place. She had gotten back into the area and was staying with some work friends with whom she really wasn't getting along, so I offered her my spare room. She moved in and we got along quite well, for a while anyway. We would often go and visit E, who was also back in town and newly divorced. It turned out that K, the girl he was so in love with and dumped me for all those years ago was a pathological liar. She never had a brother. She did not lose her leg in a horseback riding injury. While they were married though, she did pack her leg in dry ice so it would have to be amputated. She thought if she lost a limb, E would never leave her. He didn't. She ended up dumping him for a migrant worker. I only wish I was making all this up right now.
So that is pretty much what happened up to the time B and I started working "the job", as we called it.
I know this was a lengthy read and probably not sexy at all, but it will help you understand the things to come.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
My First Time
I decided it would be prudent to get a cheap pre-paid cell phone that didn't require registering to use for handling business. I was very nervous that someone I may know would see my phone number listed right under promises to fulfill every fantasy, or that I may get in trouble with the police.
E had advised me to start off with a lower rate than most of the other girls in my area, and to advertise that it was my first time. I set my rate at $100 for an hour, extras were negotiable. E encouraged me to charge more for everything- multiple orgasms (pops), blowjobs, anal-everything should cost more, $100 should be what gets a john in the door. I was incredibly nervous, and about 15 minutes after my ad was posted, my phone began to ring.
The first call was from a man who sounded very nice over the phone and wanted to meet up with both B and myself later that evening. We agreed upon 7 pm. E, B and I set about tidying the place up, and E gave some last minute warnings, such as don't be the one to bring up sex, make him touch me, etc. He promised to wait outside in the backyard so he could come in if something should go awry.
My heart was pounding in my chest, my hands were clammy and shaking. 7 o'clock rolled around and there was a knock on the door. B and I invited our 'guest' inside and we sat in the living room talking for a bit. In the end he decided he didn't want to do both of us, he only wanted to do me. I was slightly flattered but still very nervous about the whole situation. B left and went around back to hang out with E.
I led my client, my very first client, down the hall into my bedroom and closed the door. He was immediately all over me, kissing and groping. I was a little taken aback, but also a little relieved - he wasn't a cop. He was a Hispanic man, very handsome and very passionate. He insisted on keeping all the lights in the room on (I hate that! I much prefer sex with the lights out!), and touched me everywhere. He wanted to go down on me, but I was just so uncomfortable with that thought. E's words about charging more for things kept popping into the back of my head, but I had no idea how to bring that up. I didn't want to break the mood - this guy was paying his money for me to provide an experience, and I felt like bringing up money in the middle would be in poor taste (a hooker concerned with manners and poor taste!).
After making out and feeling each other up for a little while, he began doing the traditional "I'm tapping on your head so you know to suck me now" move most all men do. I went down on him for a little bit, and from the sounds of things he really enjoyed it. He eventually put his hand under my chin, and gently led me up and said in this cute accent, "I want to fuck you now."
He led me to my bed and laid me down, it was almost a romantic gesture. He was very gentle at first, and then it became more and more erratic and heated. He was really enjoying himself. For about 45 minutes this went on, and I asked him if he was close to popping. He was waiting on me, he let me know, waiting on me to orgasm, because "real men always make her cum first".
Fuck. As nice as this guy was, I wasn't exactly in my orgasm zone. The erratic humping, the bright lights, the pushing my legs all over the place, it so wasn't happening. Time to put on the game face. I started moaning like a cat in heat, and then just screaming, really going at it. "Oh yes, baby, that's it, FUCK I'm cumming!"
Over and over, complete with phony tremors and panting, I just kept faking orgasms. It worked, and he popped about 8 minutes later. He even wanted a cuddle.
After we cleaned up and he was leaving, he paid me $100 plus an extra $40 as a tip. He was so polite, he even kissed me on the cheek on his way out the door.
As soon as his car pulled out of the driveway and down the street, E and B came back inside. They were peppering me with all sorts of questions. They said they'd been listening outside my bedroom window and thought I'd really enjoyed it, I really hated to burst that bubble. "He was really nice guys, but I totally faked it."
E was disappointed, he said "but it sounded real. You made all those noises with me, too, when we were dating." I calmly assured him I never faked with him (not a complete lie, I only faked sometimes with E).
After talking about the experience and admitting that it wasn't so bad and I'd be ok, E kissed us both and went home, and B and I went to bed.
E had advised me to start off with a lower rate than most of the other girls in my area, and to advertise that it was my first time. I set my rate at $100 for an hour, extras were negotiable. E encouraged me to charge more for everything- multiple orgasms (pops), blowjobs, anal-everything should cost more, $100 should be what gets a john in the door. I was incredibly nervous, and about 15 minutes after my ad was posted, my phone began to ring.
The first call was from a man who sounded very nice over the phone and wanted to meet up with both B and myself later that evening. We agreed upon 7 pm. E, B and I set about tidying the place up, and E gave some last minute warnings, such as don't be the one to bring up sex, make him touch me, etc. He promised to wait outside in the backyard so he could come in if something should go awry.
My heart was pounding in my chest, my hands were clammy and shaking. 7 o'clock rolled around and there was a knock on the door. B and I invited our 'guest' inside and we sat in the living room talking for a bit. In the end he decided he didn't want to do both of us, he only wanted to do me. I was slightly flattered but still very nervous about the whole situation. B left and went around back to hang out with E.
I led my client, my very first client, down the hall into my bedroom and closed the door. He was immediately all over me, kissing and groping. I was a little taken aback, but also a little relieved - he wasn't a cop. He was a Hispanic man, very handsome and very passionate. He insisted on keeping all the lights in the room on (I hate that! I much prefer sex with the lights out!), and touched me everywhere. He wanted to go down on me, but I was just so uncomfortable with that thought. E's words about charging more for things kept popping into the back of my head, but I had no idea how to bring that up. I didn't want to break the mood - this guy was paying his money for me to provide an experience, and I felt like bringing up money in the middle would be in poor taste (a hooker concerned with manners and poor taste!).
After making out and feeling each other up for a little while, he began doing the traditional "I'm tapping on your head so you know to suck me now" move most all men do. I went down on him for a little bit, and from the sounds of things he really enjoyed it. He eventually put his hand under my chin, and gently led me up and said in this cute accent, "I want to fuck you now."
He led me to my bed and laid me down, it was almost a romantic gesture. He was very gentle at first, and then it became more and more erratic and heated. He was really enjoying himself. For about 45 minutes this went on, and I asked him if he was close to popping. He was waiting on me, he let me know, waiting on me to orgasm, because "real men always make her cum first".
Fuck. As nice as this guy was, I wasn't exactly in my orgasm zone. The erratic humping, the bright lights, the pushing my legs all over the place, it so wasn't happening. Time to put on the game face. I started moaning like a cat in heat, and then just screaming, really going at it. "Oh yes, baby, that's it, FUCK I'm cumming!"
Over and over, complete with phony tremors and panting, I just kept faking orgasms. It worked, and he popped about 8 minutes later. He even wanted a cuddle.
After we cleaned up and he was leaving, he paid me $100 plus an extra $40 as a tip. He was so polite, he even kissed me on the cheek on his way out the door.
As soon as his car pulled out of the driveway and down the street, E and B came back inside. They were peppering me with all sorts of questions. They said they'd been listening outside my bedroom window and thought I'd really enjoyed it, I really hated to burst that bubble. "He was really nice guys, but I totally faked it."
E was disappointed, he said "but it sounded real. You made all those noises with me, too, when we were dating." I calmly assured him I never faked with him (not a complete lie, I only faked sometimes with E).
After talking about the experience and admitting that it wasn't so bad and I'd be ok, E kissed us both and went home, and B and I went to bed.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Beginnings
A few years ago, I was working as a medical assistant at a clinic in town. I have always loved health care and I genuinely enjoyed my job as an MA. I took a job at this clinic because they offered better hours and pay than the clinic I was working at previously. The doctor who ran this clinic was a typical rich white republican with a massive crush on Hispanic women. I was the only white woman who worked in his entire establishment.
Having grown up in Texas, I do know some Spanish. Enough to get by and know when I'm being spoken to or about. Things started off wonderfully, everyone got along and work was a joy. Eventually things declined, and the other women in the clinic began to be very rude towards me and work just became very hostile. One day after work, my friend and I went to visit my ex. B was a very good friend of mine and at the time we were living together.
We go to E's house, and we're just kind of laying in his massive bed talking. We're both bitching about our jobs to him, mine at the clinic, hers at Wal-Mart, wishing we could quit these shitty jobs and just be independently wealthy. E turns to me and says "You know, you were always fantastic in bed. You should consider being an escort. You could seriously make some really good money."
At first I was just shocked. An escort? I'm just not that kind of girl. Sure, sex isn't something I viewed as sacred or holy or anything, but that doesn't mean I should just fuck any and everyone who asks.
E went on to say that he'd been with several escorts since he'd gotten back from Iraq, and that it wasn't a very big deal. He kind of gave me some details, like just how much he'd paid for them (anywhere from $100-$500, depending on the girl and what he wanted), how he found them, how he never visited street walkers, but that the internet was full of women who would come visit him and do whatever he wanted if the money was there.
By the time he was done talking, B and I were both pretty much sold on the idea. I mean, he made it sound so lucrative and like it was nothing terrible. Besides, in my experience, men were always just using women for sex anyway. Better to be honest and upfront about it, right?
E came back to our house and gave us some ideas on how to decorate if we wanted to do incalls, and he helped us write our first ads. I decided to use the name "Lucy", and my ad promised a very good time to one and all. I included a phone number, and waited for the calls to come in.
Having grown up in Texas, I do know some Spanish. Enough to get by and know when I'm being spoken to or about. Things started off wonderfully, everyone got along and work was a joy. Eventually things declined, and the other women in the clinic began to be very rude towards me and work just became very hostile. One day after work, my friend and I went to visit my ex. B was a very good friend of mine and at the time we were living together.
We go to E's house, and we're just kind of laying in his massive bed talking. We're both bitching about our jobs to him, mine at the clinic, hers at Wal-Mart, wishing we could quit these shitty jobs and just be independently wealthy. E turns to me and says "You know, you were always fantastic in bed. You should consider being an escort. You could seriously make some really good money."
At first I was just shocked. An escort? I'm just not that kind of girl. Sure, sex isn't something I viewed as sacred or holy or anything, but that doesn't mean I should just fuck any and everyone who asks.
E went on to say that he'd been with several escorts since he'd gotten back from Iraq, and that it wasn't a very big deal. He kind of gave me some details, like just how much he'd paid for them (anywhere from $100-$500, depending on the girl and what he wanted), how he found them, how he never visited street walkers, but that the internet was full of women who would come visit him and do whatever he wanted if the money was there.
By the time he was done talking, B and I were both pretty much sold on the idea. I mean, he made it sound so lucrative and like it was nothing terrible. Besides, in my experience, men were always just using women for sex anyway. Better to be honest and upfront about it, right?
E came back to our house and gave us some ideas on how to decorate if we wanted to do incalls, and he helped us write our first ads. I decided to use the name "Lucy", and my ad promised a very good time to one and all. I included a phone number, and waited for the calls to come in.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Introductions
Once upon a time, not so very long ago, I began working in the sex trade.
I'm a textbook outline for girls who get into prostitution-molested as a child, raped as a teenager. I grew up with the mindset that all my worth lay within my body.
I've definitely grown out of that mindset and have taken a very different direction in life, but here I plan to document my experiences and answer any questions anyone may have about me or the sex trade in general.
I'm a textbook outline for girls who get into prostitution-molested as a child, raped as a teenager. I grew up with the mindset that all my worth lay within my body.
I've definitely grown out of that mindset and have taken a very different direction in life, but here I plan to document my experiences and answer any questions anyone may have about me or the sex trade in general.
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