25-05-2012, 21:17
My first time.
After plucking up the courage I finally had the time and money to meet a working girl for an appointment. I surf the net and stumble across a lady not too far away, and she's available, a bonus is she's a "larger" girl and just my type, not a fan of skinny girls, too many angles. After some initial confusion with communications I get to her postcode and call as arranged. There's a short wait till she's ready and gives me the address. Parking up I walk to the address, knock on the door of a rather dilapidated house in a run down area, it had an old banger parked outside. A moment later a rather shy looking girl peers around the door and invites me in.
First impressions count (sadly) and the house wasn't the tidiest I've seen, it was also a bit wiffy if I'm honest. The girl herself had a 'used' look and feel about her. She was wearing an oversize t-shirt of indeterminate colour. She leads me upstairs and into the 'boudoir' also known as the back bedroom. Here too the smell was noticeable, not pleasant. I gave her a plain envelope, which seemed to surprise her. While she counts the contents, I nervously glance around the room, it's a mess, not the cleanest place.
She was a friendly girl I found easy to talk to, perhaps my nerves contributed. She wasted no time trying to put me at ease. A very difficult task as I was not comfortable sitting down on the bed, the slightly unsavoury odour was getting to me, and my politeness stopped me saying anything. She got me naked with a familiarity that was startling, and found my very shrunken member, I suspect it was afraid and trying to hide. I don't blame it.
The lady herself had a slight body odour, I think it had been some time since she had a shower. After getting no response from my reluctant cock, and with the panic in my head (all I wanted to do was get out of there to be honest, but I'd paid for a service and running away isn't me.) I suggested 69, in the hope a bit of oral sex might help. It didn't, my shed of a head took over. I grabbed my soft member and tried in vain to get it to rise, all I got was a semi and closing my eyes and thinking nice thoughts I managed to wank myself to climax over her huge boobs, it was not very satisfying. As we all know, once a load is shot all interest in women vanishes in a wave of hormones. I had done my business and now could get out of there, so I made my excuses and left. Drove home and jumped in the shower, dousing myself in alcohol based cleanser (I used a whole bottle), then scrubbing myself with an ex-foliating sponge until my skin was singing. Another scrub with normal shower-gel I felt a little better, then took the hard nail-brush to my hands ensuring I got rid of all traces of the peculiar smell that seemed to be covering me.
My clothes got a double extra hot wash, with added oxy-action, it was that or burn them. It was some time before my head calmed down enough to think about what had just happened.
I like to think I'm a reasonable judge of character, and can spot the difference between the good guys and the bad. (I've been both sides of that in the past).
So here's my judgement of the situation. The girl was living in a shit-tip, possibly still a council house. Any money she earned didn't go to sorting the house. The house had other occupants despite her saying it was her dogs, my feeling is that this was a 'boyfriend' and I suspect he had a costly dependency of some kind, I've lost a few good friends to 'habits' and know how it can grind the lives of people around them, just a feeling. So her situation seemed to be using her body to support the people around her, rather than herself. She seemed to have little self respect. At one point she said "Let's just have a cuddle" and I really think this was a very honest thing for her to say. I felt that she didn't really like her lot in life that much, but it was what she knew. Spending her time trying to get comfort from anywhere she could. I've met many people who just want to be liked and end up being manipulated.
Right now I feel like crap, partly because I felt I too 'used' her and because I'm a sucker for people down on their luck, I really wish I could take the girl and protect her, help get her self-respect back. She was a pretty attractive girl but with that sad eyed look of resignation the downtrodden often have.
I sat and composed an email to her, it took the form of a 'field report' I neglected to mention the smell, but hinted at the state of the house. I tried to compliment her on her looks (as I said, an attractive girl) and hopefully not cause her any offence. I got a reply, she thanked me for being considerate, and said she had some 'horrible' people visit her after me... a telling thing, it reinforces my opinion that she's not that that happy in her current situation. I can only surmise that the horrible people saw an opportunity to beat her down and reinforce the low opinion of herself, sadly I can imagine some semi-drunk local thug visiting the local slapper and giving the stinking slag some stick. I shudder with the thought.
I have no answers. I know that in other circumstances, meeting a girl like that would bring out that thing I have to protect and nurture. Most of my relationships with women begin by meeting them when they are in a low place, little self respect, little money and obviously just trudging through life accepting crap as if it's normal. I take them, build up their self esteem, help to get them in a better place both mentally and materially. Once that happens they usually leave me because I'm too 'soft' whatever the fuck that means. Sucker for a sob story me.
Ok, having thought about this for a week, I have a plan, not a very good one, but given my situation (and hers) the only one that ticks my moral/ethical boxes.
First, get some cash together. I have a good job and can save up some cash.
Next, because she's a larger woman with a huge pair of boobs she has difficulty getting bras to fit, and the ones that do cost a small fortune (in her eyes). There's a bespoke lingerie shop quite local to her that does custom made stuff. She has no "outfits" not even stockings, nothing fits her she says...
Send her an email saying that because she was my 'first' (and only) encounter with a working lady I wanted to give her a small gift, and had arranged to have a couple of bras made for her, instruct her to visit the shop(s) for a fitting measurements appointment.
If she accepts and does indeed get this done, I would contact the shop and explain to them that as a surprise I wanted maybe 3 bra and brief sets in her size, along with a Basque/corset (or 2). When ready I'd collect them and get them gift wrapped, all bows and pretty boxes. Then get some stockings and other accessories, also some hopefully more practical gifts for a lady of her chosen profession. A large box of good quality condoms, a selection of lubricants, some perfume, perhaps a couple of 'toys' the ones that take batteries. A selection of things, all gift wrapped.
Then, give her a call and see if I can book her for a few hours, an out-call, explaining I would like to present her with the bras I had made for her, and to take her shopping for shoes (all women like shoes lol). I'd hope she'd take me up on the offer, especially with a cash incentive for her time.
Book a good room in the nicest hotel in her locality.
Meet her in town, take her shopping for shoes, buy her a pair of classic black high heels, maybe a pair of 'stripper' shoes or small spiky boots. (again practical things for her chosen work). Take her to the hotel, lead her into the suite and see her face light up at the array of gift boxes strewn around the room. At least I hope her face would light up.
With any luck she'll be in a happy place, that sullen downtrodden look removed from her pretty face, even if only for a short time. I would like to give her a taste of being treated properly. Raise her up to that pedestal I often put women onto. (more fool me I hear you say)
As I had booked her time, I would politely ask she wanted to shower, and make herself pretty, so we could play dressing up with a view to taking some photos for her 'profile' page to replace the rather crappy ones she has now. I would hope she'd be happy to model her 'presents' for me and pose artfully for a few good photos. Then pose a little more x-rated for her private gallery photos. By now I'd probably have a hard-on the size of Nelsons column!
That's the rub, the crux of the punter/escort relationship. The dichotomy of social conditioning versus the more basic masculine urge. Part of me would want her to have the most fantastic time with no pressure to engage in any sexual activity, another part of me would really desire her in the most lascivious and crude way possible.
Would I have the bottle to ask the question, "Would you do me the honour of allowing me to fuck your brains out, you gorgeous bitch?"
I really wonder what her response would be?
James.
After plucking up the courage I finally had the time and money to meet a working girl for an appointment. I surf the net and stumble across a lady not too far away, and she's available, a bonus is she's a "larger" girl and just my type, not a fan of skinny girls, too many angles. After some initial confusion with communications I get to her postcode and call as arranged. There's a short wait till she's ready and gives me the address. Parking up I walk to the address, knock on the door of a rather dilapidated house in a run down area, it had an old banger parked outside. A moment later a rather shy looking girl peers around the door and invites me in.
First impressions count (sadly) and the house wasn't the tidiest I've seen, it was also a bit wiffy if I'm honest. The girl herself had a 'used' look and feel about her. She was wearing an oversize t-shirt of indeterminate colour. She leads me upstairs and into the 'boudoir' also known as the back bedroom. Here too the smell was noticeable, not pleasant. I gave her a plain envelope, which seemed to surprise her. While she counts the contents, I nervously glance around the room, it's a mess, not the cleanest place.
She was a friendly girl I found easy to talk to, perhaps my nerves contributed. She wasted no time trying to put me at ease. A very difficult task as I was not comfortable sitting down on the bed, the slightly unsavoury odour was getting to me, and my politeness stopped me saying anything. She got me naked with a familiarity that was startling, and found my very shrunken member, I suspect it was afraid and trying to hide. I don't blame it.
The lady herself had a slight body odour, I think it had been some time since she had a shower. After getting no response from my reluctant cock, and with the panic in my head (all I wanted to do was get out of there to be honest, but I'd paid for a service and running away isn't me.) I suggested 69, in the hope a bit of oral sex might help. It didn't, my shed of a head took over. I grabbed my soft member and tried in vain to get it to rise, all I got was a semi and closing my eyes and thinking nice thoughts I managed to wank myself to climax over her huge boobs, it was not very satisfying. As we all know, once a load is shot all interest in women vanishes in a wave of hormones. I had done my business and now could get out of there, so I made my excuses and left. Drove home and jumped in the shower, dousing myself in alcohol based cleanser (I used a whole bottle), then scrubbing myself with an ex-foliating sponge until my skin was singing. Another scrub with normal shower-gel I felt a little better, then took the hard nail-brush to my hands ensuring I got rid of all traces of the peculiar smell that seemed to be covering me.
My clothes got a double extra hot wash, with added oxy-action, it was that or burn them. It was some time before my head calmed down enough to think about what had just happened.
I like to think I'm a reasonable judge of character, and can spot the difference between the good guys and the bad. (I've been both sides of that in the past).
So here's my judgement of the situation. The girl was living in a shit-tip, possibly still a council house. Any money she earned didn't go to sorting the house. The house had other occupants despite her saying it was her dogs, my feeling is that this was a 'boyfriend' and I suspect he had a costly dependency of some kind, I've lost a few good friends to 'habits' and know how it can grind the lives of people around them, just a feeling. So her situation seemed to be using her body to support the people around her, rather than herself. She seemed to have little self respect. At one point she said "Let's just have a cuddle" and I really think this was a very honest thing for her to say. I felt that she didn't really like her lot in life that much, but it was what she knew. Spending her time trying to get comfort from anywhere she could. I've met many people who just want to be liked and end up being manipulated.
Right now I feel like crap, partly because I felt I too 'used' her and because I'm a sucker for people down on their luck, I really wish I could take the girl and protect her, help get her self-respect back. She was a pretty attractive girl but with that sad eyed look of resignation the downtrodden often have.
I sat and composed an email to her, it took the form of a 'field report' I neglected to mention the smell, but hinted at the state of the house. I tried to compliment her on her looks (as I said, an attractive girl) and hopefully not cause her any offence. I got a reply, she thanked me for being considerate, and said she had some 'horrible' people visit her after me... a telling thing, it reinforces my opinion that she's not that that happy in her current situation. I can only surmise that the horrible people saw an opportunity to beat her down and reinforce the low opinion of herself, sadly I can imagine some semi-drunk local thug visiting the local slapper and giving the stinking slag some stick. I shudder with the thought.
I have no answers. I know that in other circumstances, meeting a girl like that would bring out that thing I have to protect and nurture. Most of my relationships with women begin by meeting them when they are in a low place, little self respect, little money and obviously just trudging through life accepting crap as if it's normal. I take them, build up their self esteem, help to get them in a better place both mentally and materially. Once that happens they usually leave me because I'm too 'soft' whatever the fuck that means. Sucker for a sob story me.
Ok, having thought about this for a week, I have a plan, not a very good one, but given my situation (and hers) the only one that ticks my moral/ethical boxes.
First, get some cash together. I have a good job and can save up some cash.
Next, because she's a larger woman with a huge pair of boobs she has difficulty getting bras to fit, and the ones that do cost a small fortune (in her eyes). There's a bespoke lingerie shop quite local to her that does custom made stuff. She has no "outfits" not even stockings, nothing fits her she says...
Send her an email saying that because she was my 'first' (and only) encounter with a working lady I wanted to give her a small gift, and had arranged to have a couple of bras made for her, instruct her to visit the shop(s) for a fitting measurements appointment.
If she accepts and does indeed get this done, I would contact the shop and explain to them that as a surprise I wanted maybe 3 bra and brief sets in her size, along with a Basque/corset (or 2). When ready I'd collect them and get them gift wrapped, all bows and pretty boxes. Then get some stockings and other accessories, also some hopefully more practical gifts for a lady of her chosen profession. A large box of good quality condoms, a selection of lubricants, some perfume, perhaps a couple of 'toys' the ones that take batteries. A selection of things, all gift wrapped.
Then, give her a call and see if I can book her for a few hours, an out-call, explaining I would like to present her with the bras I had made for her, and to take her shopping for shoes (all women like shoes lol). I'd hope she'd take me up on the offer, especially with a cash incentive for her time.
Book a good room in the nicest hotel in her locality.
Meet her in town, take her shopping for shoes, buy her a pair of classic black high heels, maybe a pair of 'stripper' shoes or small spiky boots. (again practical things for her chosen work). Take her to the hotel, lead her into the suite and see her face light up at the array of gift boxes strewn around the room. At least I hope her face would light up.
With any luck she'll be in a happy place, that sullen downtrodden look removed from her pretty face, even if only for a short time. I would like to give her a taste of being treated properly. Raise her up to that pedestal I often put women onto. (more fool me I hear you say)
As I had booked her time, I would politely ask she wanted to shower, and make herself pretty, so we could play dressing up with a view to taking some photos for her 'profile' page to replace the rather crappy ones she has now. I would hope she'd be happy to model her 'presents' for me and pose artfully for a few good photos. Then pose a little more x-rated for her private gallery photos. By now I'd probably have a hard-on the size of Nelsons column!
That's the rub, the crux of the punter/escort relationship. The dichotomy of social conditioning versus the more basic masculine urge. Part of me would want her to have the most fantastic time with no pressure to engage in any sexual activity, another part of me would really desire her in the most lascivious and crude way possible.
Would I have the bottle to ask the question, "Would you do me the honour of allowing me to fuck your brains out, you gorgeous bitch?"
I really wonder what her response would be?
James.
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