My Life on the Game

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Babes

Those of you that think that prostitutes are nothing more than a commodity, to use and discard like a piece of toilet paper after you’ve wiped your arse, should maybe consider not reading any further because this story will probably offend your narrow minded and misogynist attitudes. These women are in a service industry that provides relief to those willing to pay. They are also human beings, and are often the subject of scorn and ridicule from those very people who preach tolerance and love. This is one such woman’s story. CM.

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Friday nights were the one night of the week that I looked forward to. Don’t get me wrong, I was still working, but not the hard grind that the other girls were having to work. While they were flat on their backs making a dollar I was relaxing in my bed with my regular Friday night customer. For reasons that will become obvious I shall call him Mr. X. I know his real name but let’s just leave it at that for the time being. I also knew that he was happily married to a very attractive woman (he showed me her photograph) who denied him nothing when it came to sex and even approved of his regular Friday night trysts with me.

After a couple of Friday nights where he paid for the hour that he got from me, we negotiated a rate for the whole night from 6:00pm to 6:00am, 12 hours at the standard going rate, but he never stayed for the 12 hours, leaving at around midnight. He told me that because he had paid for the 12 hours I didn’t need to work again that night, and that I could go home. The first night of this arrangement he must have watched for me to leave because the next week he commented that he had seen me leave and was pleased that I didn’t take the opportunity to earn extra money.

It became our regular night where he would arrive at 6:00pm and we would go to bed and he would subject me to the most thoughtful and amazing sexual experiences imaginable. He knew more about love making, yes love making and not the mechanical sex that we girls are used to, than any man that I’d ever been with. After we had finished, usually around 8:00pm we would relax and talk, really talk. We talked about our families, that was when he sprung it on me about his marriage, but then many of my clients were married so that bit of news didn’t shock me. The fact that she knew about us and actually encouraged the relationship was what shocked me.

Later we would slide into another couple of hours of sublime love making before he would kiss me passionately and leave, promising that he was looking forward to seeing me again the following Friday.

Last Friday was the best yet. After I’d tried on the silk robe that he’d bought for me, god it felt good against my skin, it seemed to slide across it whenever I moved, it was like a caress, he took it off me and told me to lie down on the bed. I did as I was told because I trusted him. He took off his clothes, his still taut body with its light thatch of grey hair on his chest and around his cock, looked so attractive. Lowering himself onto the bed beside me, he produced a feather, not one of those wing feathers but a small down feather. He leaned towards me and began to gently touch my face with it, my eyes and my cheeks and my lips. The touch was so light that I could hardly feel it, but my skin tingled as the feather glided over me.

He moved to me and kissed me, his lips barely touching mine but the sensation had all of the passion of any kiss I’d ever received. The feather brushed me just behind my ear and moved down my neck then circled back to my ear, across my throat to the other ear. I could feel my body reacting to this treatment, my nipples were hard and my pussy was leaking juices, I was so close to coming and he had a long way to go before he reached my pussy. I was sure that I could not hold out under this gentle onslaught, and would have to let go, and soon.

“I don’t think that I can stand much more of this.” I whispered to him, my voice husky with desire. “If you keep this up I will not be held responsible for my body.”

“Do you want me to stop?” His whisper just as husky as mine.

“Don’t you dare stop.”

He didn’t stop but when the feather reached my nipple I lost it, my body convulsing, my juices flooding from me, as my orgasm took control. He waited for me to calm down before continuing. “You have such beautiful breasts.” His lips took a nipple and held it while his tongue brushed across its tip. The feather was at work on my other breast and I could feel that I was heading towards a continuous orgasm, and he was nowhere near my pussy.

It took forever for him to move beyond my breasts but eventually his journey continued, he even found beauty in my belly button, proclaiming it to be the most perfect that he’d ever seen. The tingling in my body increased dramatically as he approached my pubes, yes there was a well trimmed landing strip of hair there. He had to withdraw his hand as my hips rose in response to his touch.

I fully expected him to move straight from there to my pendik escort pussy, but he didn’t. Instead he moved to the backs of my knees. My leg jerked as I felt the feather touch my leg, and continued to quiver during the excruciatingly slow journey towards my pussy. But he skipped over that and went to the other knee. This was getting me so incredibly horny, I just had to have him, and I wanted him so badly that it hurt. For some reason I remembered a poem that I’d read and I whispered it to him.

“When you are with the one you love,

luxuriating in the closeness

of the one you are with,

Time has no meaning.

Give yourself to your lover’s touch,

lose yourself in your lover’s voice,

clothe yourself in your lover’s love.

Time has no meaning.”

“That’s beautiful. Are you with the one you love?”

“Yes, I love you. But I know that my love for you will have to remain unrequited, it will have to be our Friday love because I will not cause problems for you and your wife.”

“I know that, and that’s what’s so perfect about you. You are not like any other girl that I’ve been with, you actually feel something for me that they never did.”

“I don’t feel like this about any of my other clients, you are special to me, you are unlike any man that I’ve ever met.”

The feather had been playing havoc with my pussy lips and I was coming yet again when he took it away and moved between my legs. I felt the head of his cock at the entrance to my pussy and there it stayed, he moved it up and down in my slit, coating it with the ample supply of juices that I’d prepared for him. Then he was inside me, fully inside me and it was my turn. I grabbed his cock with my pussy muscles and literally milked his sperm from him. When he eventually pulled out and removed the condom from his now limp cock, I was surprised to see how much sperm there was in it. “Have you been saving it up?” I pointed to the condom.

“No, this is normal for me.” He tied a knot in it and placed it in the dish on the bedside table.

I snuggled against him, my arm across his chest and breathed a contented sigh. “That was the most sublime experience of my life. You are the best lover that I’ve ever had, not that that’s saying much.”

“Hannah,” He seldom used my name, not even when we are caught up in our lovemaking. I never used his. I knew that something was on his mind. “Tell me, no you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, it’s just that I’m curious, I want to know what happened to you and how it was that you happened to get into this business?”

“Do you mind if we don’t talk about it just now, it will spoil a perfect evening for me.”

“I understand.” He kissed me to let me know that he did really understand.

We talked about a whole range of non sex related topics, like the weather and politics and the growing tensions around the world. This kept us occupied for the next couple of hours but I had the funny feeling that something was on his mind. After our second round of lovemaking he at last told me what it was.

“I want you to come home with me tonight, will you?”

“I don’t know. Since we began this Friday night thing I’ve become used to getting home early and relieving Mother from her babysitting duties, she’ll be expecting me.”

“Would it be easier for you if we were to call by your place and pick up Ben (How did he know my son’s name was Ben?) and take him with us?”

“Won’t your wife be upset by this change of plans?”

“No, we’ve discussed it and she wants to meet you, both of you.” This was getting weird.

“I guess that it’ll be okay. Don’t worry, Mother knows about you but has been sworn to secrecy.”

“Thank you for that, I had visions of having to sit in my car while you ran inside to pick him up and having to explain it all to your mother.”

There were no eyebrows raised when we left the building because we left via the staff entrance that led onto the car park out back. I half expected a luxury car but instead found myself sitting inside a normal family sedan heading for my place. He didn’t even ask me where I lived, he just knew. I didn’t know what to think of all of this, he knew more about me than I had ever told him. What surprised me even more was that when I had carried Ben out to the car there was a car seat, suitable for his age, already fastened on the rear seat.

He drove up a tree lined street in an affluent suburb and turned into a driveway to be confronted by a pair of massive wrought iron gates that just happened to be opening. We drove through and I turned to see them close behind us. I turned around in time to see the panelled garage doors sliding up. He parked the car. “Well, here we are, home.”

A door opened in the side wall and a woman walked in and kissed him as he got out of the car. It wasn’t the peck on the cheek that I was expecting, and hoping for, but a passionate kiss between lovers. She walked around to me and gave me a kiss that was just as maltepe escort passionate. Now I was really confused. “Welcome to our place Hannah, if you want to pick Ben up I’ll grab his things.”

I carried Ben in and followed her to a room that had been prepared for him. She pointed to one of those monitor things. “We can keep an ear open for him while we have a chat.” I kissed him and tucked him into the bed and we left the room.

I found myself seated in a comfortable chair in what turned out to be her study. There were bookshelves on three walls that were full of academic books. There was a large desk with a pile of papers in a tray along with a computer and printer. “I suppose you’re wondering what this is all about. I hope that you weren’t looking forward to some kinky three way sexual action because we are not into that sort of thing. What this is all about is research for a paper that I’m writing on the psychological aspects of women working in your industry. I have any number of case studies of women who are so anti men because of their job that I thought that a more positive outlook would be desirable to provide some balance to the report. When (X) told me about you I just had to meet you. But I couldn’t just approach you because I thought that you wouldn’t be inclined to volunteer the information that I needed. That is the reason for this Friday night thing, to gain you confidence and increase the likelihood of you co-operating with us. I hope that this isn’t too much of a shock for you?”

“No, in a way it explains a few things that have been bugging me, like how is it that you know about my son and his name, because I’ve never mentioned anything about him.”

“We had to do some background checking to make sure that there weren’t going to be any surprises.”

“I presume that I’ve passed.”

“Yes you have. His instincts were spot on. You are perfect for this, and other things I hear.”

“I’m in no way perfect, he on the other hand, now he’s the perfect one.”

“I should be jealous but I’m not because I know that you’re not saying that because you’re in love with him and want to break us up so that you can have him. Oh, I’m aware of your feelings for him, I’m also aware that you are happy enough with the situation as it stands right now. I don’t blame you, because he is the most loving man that I’ve ever met.”

“Where do I start?” She, I won’t mention her name either, at least not just yet, had asked me how it was that I got into the sex industry. “I had a perfectly normal childhood. I have no brothers or sisters and being an only child I was used to being the centre of attention. I was good, but hardly brilliant, at school and graduated to high school without any dramas. This idyllic world came to a sudden and very dramatic end one Friday night. My father had been at a three day conference with his boss and on the way home there was a car accident and both of them were thrown from the car and injured. My father was in a coma for two months and when he came out of it he found that he was being charged with culpable driving.”

“The weird part about this was that he wasn’t even driving the car. It was his boss’s pride and joy, a Morgan 4+4 sports car. It didn’t have seat belts which was why they were thrown out of the car. His boss told the police that my father had volunteered to drive because he, the boss, had drunk a little too much. What he hadn’t realized was that my father had also drunk too much, otherwise he would never have allowed him to take the wheel. Where this becomes confusing is that Father had never driven a manual car before, he certainly hadn’t driven one with a Moss gearbox with no synchromesh that meant that he would have to have known how to adjust the revs of the motor when changing gears. My father had no idea how to do that, he could never have driven that car. Unfortunately every witness that came forward all told the police that Father was driving.”

“The result of this was that my father lost his job and any entitlements that would have been due to him. The car was an insurance write off and because the insurance didn’t cover the damage to the car because drink was involved, he was forced to pay for all of the costs, Morgans are very expensive cars. He wasn’t able to get a job because of his injuries and the fact that he was refused references. We lost our house and ended up in a public housing enclave. My father never recovered from this and ended up suffering badly from depression in hospital.”

“I decided around then that I wanted to become a nurse, so I studied hard and got a high enough grade to get into a Bachelor of Science (Nursing) degree course. Because of our financial situation I deferred my studies for a year and got a job as a receptionist at a Doctor’s surgery. This Doctor had a lot of regular clients who were women of easy virtue, and much of his work was prescribing medications for sexually transmitted diseases with the occasional TOP (termination of pregnancy) thrown in for good measure. kartal escort I found out later that payments not covered by Medicare were given in freebies.”

“I had been going with a boy that I’d met in high school and we had been having sex for a couple of months when I fell pregnant. My boyfriend accused me of deliberately getting pregnant so that he would be forced to marry me and he wasn’t going to do that. I didn’t want to marry him, at least not then because I was much too young for that, and I had my studies to think about. The doctor suggested an abortion and even offered to do it free of charge if I were to become his lover. My boyfriend and my boss both tried to talk me into having the abortion but I wasn’t about to have one. So I had Ben and lost my job and boyfriend at around the same time. My boyfriend was supposed to be paying child support but he disappeared and the authorities have been unsuccessful in tracing him, so I’ve had to live on a Supporting Parent’s payment.”

“One day I bumped into one of the girls that used to come to the doctor’s surgery and she told me how much money she was earning as a prostitute and how it wasn’t as bad as people said it was. That was when I made the decision to get into the industry. Mother was not impressed but could see that I had made up my mind. She did make me promise that I would try to take up my studies as a part-time student. I’ve enrolled with the Open University as a student and can do all of my course work from home, and look after Ben at the same time.”

“The work is by no means glamorous. There is very little resemblance between having sex and making love. You can’t imagine how degraded we feel having man after man use our bodies with little thought to how we might feel about the whole production line process. No sooner had one left than another would be ready for his turn. It’s no wonder that the girls turn to booze and drugs to mask their revulsion and depression.”

“There is no foreplay involved so I found myself going through heaps of lubricant, even though the condoms that we used were supposed to be lubricated, it was still rough on my vagina. Then there were the different types of men who used the brothel. There were the chauvinists who expected you to do whatever they had in mind that you should do and would sometimes get violent if you didn’t want to comply.”

“What sort of things did they want you to do?” she asked.

“The most common one was anal sex. I know that some of the girls did it but I told my boss that I wasn’t going to, and that if a client wanted anal sex he could go with one of the other girls. Oh they were subtle about their request, “I’m going to ram my huge cock right up your arse, how do you like that?” But I still got them and it was hard to resist when they yelled at you that they were paying good money for sex and you had to give them what they wanted. I would give in when I realised that there was no other option.”

“Then there were the guys who would let you slip the condom on them and then try to take it off before putting their cock in you. I had a few of those and my boss did back me up on that one, probably because of the down-time involved in getting cured of STD’s as well as the risk of HIV.”

“Different nights have different clients. During the weeks there are the guys who live on their own and get sick of jerking off so they come to us for a bit of boy/girl contact with some sex thrown in. Some of them were just shy and afraid to approach a woman while others were socially inept and didn’t know how to get a woman.”

“On the weekends, especially in the early hours of the morning we get the drunks who have failed to score at the nightclubs and come to us for the sex that they missed out on. The common denominator in all of this is that almost none of these clients give the girls any consideration. We are a commodity to be used, nothing more than that. We do not exist as people and we are not treated as people. If I happen to see one of my clients in the supermarket he breaks all speed records getting out of there and if he happens to be with his wife or girlfriend the lengths that he goes to just to avoid me are pathetic. I’m sure that the partner suspects something.”

“Some of the girls are nice enough to me while others wouldn’t piss on me if I was on fire. There are the usual jealousies especially when my Friday nights were booked up and I didn’t have to work all night but still got paid for it. Some of the girls were happy for me while others went out of their way to make my life as miserable as possible. Pretty much like life in general.”

“We sometimes get visiting celebrities and local dignitaries as clients but we don’t tend to mention them at all, at least I don’t.”

“How are your studies going?” He asked me, moving to subject quickly away from his status.

“They’re going as well as can be expected under the circumstances, I’m coping with the work and getting good grades for my assignments, I’m happy with my progress.”

“How long do you intend doing this work?” She asked me.

“I don’t know, a few more customers like your husband would make it easier for me, but I don’t want to be still working in the industry when Ben starts school, it would be difficult for him.”

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