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Paying
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
( Warning the following story consists of consensual sex between a male
and female adult. If you are underage, or if you are offended by
pornography, I suggest you not read any further. - The Perfect Fool )
Story: Paying for Sex
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Someone once bragged to me and some friends, "I've never had to pay for
it before." It always stuck. It sounded like something a guy ought
to rightly be proud of...never being so hard up and unable to meet women that
he had to pay a prostitute for sex. Similarly, while I'd get pretty turned on
when I see prostitutes on city streets (the nice looking ones),
I'd say to myself, no sir, I'm too good for that.
Well guess what? Once I was hard up, was in a situation where I
couldn't meet any women, and I knew of where to find women who would
exchange money for sex...and after a lot of deliberation, I decided to go
for it! I live in a country where exchanging money for sex is not
illegal, and in my town the women who do it leave ads in telephone booths.
I had several phone numbers, and dialled them all to see how
they sounded on the phone. Sometimes someone else took the calls and
described the girl: "She's a lovely girl with a big bust and a slim
figure, 38-24-36. $XX for massage and quick release [that's a hand
job], $XX (more) for special treatment [never found what that meant], and $XX
(even more) for personal services [that means full intercourse]." Then I'd get
the address. Most calls were brief like that. A more interesting call was
when I talked to the girl herself. One said, "I start by taking your
clothes off slowly while you lie on the bed. Then I lick your balls
while I kneel in front of you. Behind me there's a mirror and you can
see me completely from the back. I take everything slowly and I never
rush." This was amusing! A bit packaged and product-like
perhaps, but I enjoyed the little bit of phone-tittilation. There was a
photograph of a very shapely woman in leather gear on the advert I had.
"Is that you on the card?" I asked. After a slight pause, she said "It
might be," with a sort of twinkle in her eye, so to speak. I laughed to
myself, and politely said I might stop by. It probably wasn't her in
the picture, but I liked her sense of humor about it.
I went to another place first, actually, and was it disappointing. An
older woman let me in and showed me to the room, saying "she'll be right
down." The room was filled with absurd sex merchandise...a row of silly
fantasy costumes hanging up, an array of sexual aids lined up as though
they were on sale. The girl came in in a ordinary nightgown, carrying a
plastic shopping bag...she looked friendly enough, but not at all sexy,
and had a gold front tooth. I excused myself, and felt really bad...I
was sure that this poor girl had a tough life, and this kind of
rejection probably hurt. For myself, I wondered if I was doing the
right thing.
I decided to try the leather-gear-in-the-photograph woman. I had a good
feeling as soon as I arrived at her front door. It was well-painted,
had some nice looking plants in front, and a cute sign that said: Be
Patient...It's Worth the Wait. She didn't answer to my knock, so I went
out to eat, and treated myself to a great meal. But I got more and more
eager to try this woman with her mirrors and no-hurry approach. This
time I waited at her door a long time after knocking. Like 15-20
minutes. Suspense mounted. At last I saw a figure come to the window
and peek out; "Oh, just a minute." Actually, it was more like 10
extra minutes of waiting.
At long last the door opened. I was full of excitement, almost as though
it was my first time getting laid. At the same time, I was steeling
myself for a disappointment...another unsexy, unappetizing woman? I was
not disappointed. She was tall with long legs and wearing a bustier,
garter belt and high heels. Her breasts spilled out over the top of the
bustier and she had a good figure (about 38-24-36, just as other girls
were described). And she was friendly and conversational, making me feel
comfortable...we developed a decent rapport right away. She was not
young; she had to be at least in her late thirties. She had a narrow face with
high cheekbones, but fairly mature, with wrinkles on the way. Her
breasts were large and shapely, but definitely not as perky as a 20-year old's.
No, she wasn't the same person who was pictured on the advert, but I wasn't
the least bit dissatisfied. I was turned on.
We talked about the prices (quick release, personal services, etc.) and
she said she didn't mind me deciding along the way. The first thing I
wanted to do was just to embrace her standing up and we just hugged for
a good long while. "Looks like you really needed that," she said. At
that time, I really did. How nice it was to be able to
let my hands wander down to her ass to feel its contours and cup it in
my hands. I moved my head to face hers, and started a kiss. She kept
her lips fairly immobile and in that way sort of indicated that french
kissing was out, so I satisfied myself with that. I found that "playing
by the rules" made things seem comfortable, and she later told me she
appreciated me being a gentleman. Even though it wasn't like sex with
someone you loved, it had some of the best elements. Right now it was
some very exciting foreplay. I proceeded to feeling her pussy, which was
satisfyingly wet.
She suggested that she "take over" on the bed. She undressed me and did
exactly what she said on the phone. It was relaxing, and the view was
pretty good. She licked my balls in quick darting tounge actions. I
thought this was okay, but not great. I asked her if she would continue
with what she was doing, but in 69 position. "My favorite," she said.
So she turned around, and there along with her garter belt, net
stockings and high heels, was her her ass and pussy right in my face.
It was a delicious view.
She had a pussy like I'd never seen before (in person). It was pretty
to look at, to be sure, but it was a hyper-pussy: wide open and
inviting, a dark tunnel of love. I could stick my finger up it for
several inches without touching the insides of her vagina. So this is
what a professional's equipment looks like... And she had a cute
asshole as well.
Then she turned on her back and I laid on top, embracing her, kissing
her, rubbing groins. Gee, I thought, this is really nice...she's not
mentioning anything about cost, or how much time we had left, or
anything. It still felt pretty natural. At this point she turned me on
enough and felt good enough that I really wanted her, and committed to
paying the full price. So soon I was in her. Her pussy felt really
good...lubricated, welcoming, but just tight enough. I went slowly and
it felt so good, and she moaned with me.
I doubt she was really having an awesome sexual experience with
me...this was her job. (Despite the fact that just before I left she
told me that it was "one of nicest times she'd had in a long time.") On
the other hand, I could see that with that really supple, perfect pussy
of hers, that it was probably no effort for her to have sex a bunch of
times in the day. She was a sexual athelete, with perfect equipment.
If my cock never fatigued and stayed sensitive all the time, having sex
all day long might be pretty fun!
I was holding her tight and kissing her, thrusting in and out, kissing
her breasts, holding her by her ass, and raising her legs high in the
air and pressing her heels against my face. After a while I wanted to do the
one thing no woman had ever done for me, and I knew that in this situation,
it was okay to ask.
"Would you stand over on the floor there with your back to me, and pose
for me? I'd like you to arch your back and stick your butt out...no,
*way* out. Yes, that's it..." Hey, so I have my little quirks. I'd been
seeing that pose in Playboy and Penthouse for years. Once a girlfriend
was extremely hurt when I asked her to pose like that. Other
girlfriends just laughed at the request, and some I didn't even dare
ask.
"Can I make love to you standing that way?" So I came in from behind...
and with her wearing those high heels and everything, was I ever happy!
And those mirrors really helped...with her back arched that way, and
that nice ass, she looked like a delicious pubescent teenage girl.
(She was very flattered when I said so.) Later we did some doggy style
on the bed, and later some with her on top while I kissed, licked, and
sucked her breasts. Then she said, "How about if I show you my special?"
"Okay," I said, and smirked over the trade language. Her "special"
consisted of her on top with me inside, as before, but with her facing
*away* from me. This was an asshole-and-pussy view that was ten times
better than the 69 position before. Her back was arched way back for
this one, and it felt good too...it was special, alright! And she was
very practiced at it...she did it effortlessly and said "like it?" as
she pumped up and down, asking as though she was doing as innocuous as
peeling an orange.
I kept taking a long time to come...you know how when you try to keep it
in reserve for a long time, you sort of miss the boat. That happens to
me, at least. She took things into her own hand, so to speak, by taking
off my rubber and giving me a hand job. The sudden increase in
sensitivity was fabulous, and she brought me off after not too long...I
came all over my stomach.
She let me wash up...she had a beautiful old fashioned bathtub
with gold fixtures. For a moment I imagined myself as a cowboy in the
west a century ago, coming into town for a night at the brothel...I'd
have my favorite girl, then I'd have a long relaxing bath while I smoked
a cigar, say. Maybe I could do that if I wanted to. Actually I don't
think I want to make paying for sex a habit. I do draw the line
somewhere! :-) We had a nice chat while I was cleaning and dressing, and
she told me a bit about herself. From what I could tell she had a fairly
ordinary middle class upbringing, but from a very dull town. Go figure.
Perhaps it's obvious that I have no regrets at having this experience.
I wonder about my bragging friend...so he maintained his self-defined
purity and never "paid for it." Okay, but I bet he always wonders: what
would it be like to see a whore? I consider myself all the more rich
for the experience. The overall experience did not seem markedly
different from my one-night stand experiences (meeting a girl in a bar,
etc.). Furthermore, I've had 'normal' sexual experiences that have made
me feel far more sleazy or guilty: like the partners I've gone to bed
with purely for reasons of raw lust (ignorning obvious personality
differences), or worse still when I was doing it out of raw lust while the
women had deeper motivations.
A few months later, I saw a woman with whom I have an on-again-off-again
relationship, which happens to include utterly fabulous sex. She is the
most sexually skilled woman I've ever been in a relationship with...
olympic-class blowjobs, full-throated, moaning orgasms, the works. I
didn't mention seeing a prostitute (that will always be my secret), but I
showed her the advertisements. She got really excited looking that them,
and said...I nearly fell out of my chair when I heard this..."I would LOVE
to be a prostitute! It would be fun wearing all the costumes. I really know
how to satisfy men, and I'd do it well."
Ain't it the truth, though? It makes sense to me that just as there are
math geniouses and virtuoso violinists, there are also those whose
great gift is having a hot body, fabulous technique, and an incredible
instinct for pleasure. Why shouldn't such people be allowed
to be prostitutes if they want to be? I felt that way about the
girl I paid to have sex with me. She had great sex at a moment's notice
without hardly trying at all, and figured out how to make a living on
it...as a bonus she happened to be a nice person as well. To be fair,
it is true that for many people, like that girl at the first house I went to
perhaps, prostitution is not something they really choose to do. But at
least I can say that I've had an experience that shows that prostitution need
not be a socially negative thing.
- The Perfect Fool
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