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SEX CONFESSIONS: The First Time I Had Sex For Money

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When people think of a prostitute they generally visualise a woman in a short skirt and fishnet stockings walking the street, getting into strangers cars. They also think that the women who do this kind of work are uneducated, from low socioeconomic backgrounds, drugs addicts – the list goes on. People also think that the only type of clients who see prostitutes are dirty, unattractive, seedy old men.

Well, let me shatter any preconceptions you may have and fill you in on the truth.

I didn’t grow up in a poor household but we certainly weren’t rich. I came from a middle-class family and I was educated at private schools.

My parents divorced when I was thirteen. My mum ran off with another man and my dad started having sex with anything that moved.

I started becoming curious about sex and became sexually active in my early teens. I ran away from home a few years later and I started dating different guys. I was essentially sleeping with them to keep a roof over my head.

It was at this point, at around sixteen years old, that I first thought about exchanging sex for money. I mean, I was already sleeping with men so that I would have food and somewhere to stay – why not just sleep with them and get actual cash money?

I had seen some advertisements in the local newspaper for some pretty classy parlours and when I called, they asked me how old I was and I told them the truth. Sadly, they told me to call back in a couple of years once I was eighteen.

I put the thought to the back of my mind and pretty much forgot about it – until I was eighteen and down to my last R500.

Being a full time student and supporting yourself living out of home isn’t easy. I tried to find work that would fit in with my hours at college but no one would hire me. While I was flipping through the newspaper looking for a job, I came across the adult section once again.

I found an advertisement for what looked like a decent place. I called the number and a softly spoken yet husky sounding receptionist answered. I told her that I was looking for work and she gave me some more information about the job. She seemed nice and made me feel comfortable and at ease. I was told that I needed to come in for an interview and the receptionist scheduled me in for the very next day.

I was nervous but also excited at the same time and I even thought about cancelling. I tried to convince myself that I was crazy for even contemplating doing that type of work but the fact was, I had R500 to my name and I needed to get an income so that I could continue my studies.

I arrived at the establishment and was met by the sheepish receptionist I had spoken with on the phone. The place was gorgeous. It was modern, clean and even had a fully stocked bar. The owner, an older Italian gentleman introduced himself to me, sat me down, made a cappuccino for me and had a general chat explaining what was expected of me and how much I would get paid. He seemed extremely pleased with me and told me that I could start the very next day.

After leaving the premises, I decided that I had to buy a sexy outfit or some lingerie to wear for my first shift. I found a small boutique lingerie store and found a little dress which was light pink with black pinstripe and had a matching pair of panties. I used the last money I had to purchase the outfit. No chance I could back out now – I had no money left whatsoever and just enough petrol to get me to ‘work.’

I arrived for my first shift and was taken to a room where all the ladies got ready and was also the place where they spent their time in between job. There were only a couple of ladies there as it was early, around 10am. We each applied our make up and put on our lingerie while chatting.

I asked one of the ladies what her first time was like, meaning her first time being paid for sex. She laughed and said ‘I don’t even remember the first.’ Which is odd, because I remember my first – it’s a pretty significant point in your life.

The bell rung which meant that we needed to walk out in a line to present ourselves to the client which made me feel as if we were cattle walking in a line to show off our A+ grade rumps.

I followed the two ladies and we each walked up to the client and introduced ourselves. I had decided to call myself Honey because I had just seen the dance movie with the same name starring Jessica Alba and I had the same style of hair she had in the movie and the same figure, plus it sounded cute.

When I met the client, I was shocked. He was a young, extremely good looking European man. He was wearing a Ferrari jacket, like a race type jacket. We made eye contact, I shook his hand and told him my name to which he smiled back and decided he wanted me.

Wow. This was really happening. We walked to the lavish room together making small talk on the way. The first thing I was told to do at the beginning of a booking was a health check. I had to look around his genitals for any signs of infection or disease, so basically looking for any lumps, bumps, cuts etc. Luckily his personal hygiene was great and he was also clean shaven which made it much easier for the check.

He had a shower and then laid down on the bed. I was nervous, but sex has always come so naturally to me, perhaps it’s the Scorpio in me. I imagined he was just someone I had met in the real world and was having a one night stand with – it worked.

I undressed as he watched, it was a turn on for me to see how hot and bothered he became as I stood there in my nakedness. The fact that this gorgeous guy was also paying me to sleep with him also added to my excitement. It made me feel as if I had a type of power of him. It was really sexy.

I walked over and climbed onto the bed. I began kissing and licking his body from his stomach, next to his belly button, up his torso an onto his nipples. I sucked and nibbled them lightly and then made my way up to his neck, running my tongue up to his ear and gently sucking on his earlobe.

I rolled on a condom while keeping him focused on the pleasure he was feeling from the kisses. He then grabbed my neck and pulled my mouth to his, kissing me deeply, intently and passionately. This took me by surprise, I didn’t think there would be any kissing, after all, that’s what Julia Roberts taught us from Pretty Woman right? ‘No kissing, it’s to personal.’

I worked my way back down his body, to his inner thigh. He shivered and goosebumps appeared over his skin as I ran my tongue up the thigh, to the delicate fold of skin between his leg and genitals.

I took his cock into my mouth and started sucking slowly at first while my tongue traced circles around the top of his shaft. I began moving faster but I could tell he was very close to climax, so I stopped.

I waited a moment for him to calm down and then I climbed on top, straddling him as my pussy slid gently down his sheathed cock.

I began to grind and rock my body back and forth, rubbing my clit on his pubic bone as I moaned – but within 30 seconds, he exploded.

Wait. That was it? I just got paid – for that? That was so easy and it was all over?!

After he came, I told him to lay on his stomach so that I could give him a massage and while I was rubbing his back, we talked about him. He told me he was a race car driver which I naively believed at first, but over time, I realised all men come prepared with a story they can tell the woman, to wow us, to make him feel more important. This clients fantasy was that he was a masculine, race car driver. Good for him.

We both showered, he thanked me and then he left not long after that. I went back into the change room and sat down whilst comprehending the events that had just unfolded. ‘Wow. That was nothing to be scared of. I think I am going to enjoy this work,’ I thought to myself.

Over the years, I have worked in many different types of adult jobs. I have been a sex worker, an erotic masseuse, a stripper, a web cam model and a few other things.

So – back to the beginning of the story! I am an educated woman, from a middle class family, I didn’t become a sex worker because of drugs or because someone forced me into it. Sure the circumstances were that I needed the money to support myself while studying, but I assume money is generally the reason anybody gets into sex work. I have never walked the streets or done anything that goes against my morals and I’ve never let a client degrade me.

The clients that see women in the adult industry vary. They vary in age, ethnicity, size and shape but one things applies to the majority of them – they are normal, everyday people. They are husbands, boyfriends and fathers. Some work in an office while others work in a physical job like construction. Some are high powered at the top of the chain and others are just entry level.

They can be anyone and they don’t just see sex workers for sexual relief. At times, some just want to feel the affection that they aren’t getting from their partner anymore, or to feel that they have someone to listen to their problems and help try to make them feel better.

The clients are normal people, just as sex workers are. You’ve probably noticed I’m using the term ‘Sex Worker.’ That is because that is what we should be called, because that is what we are to our clients. To them we are not just sex on a stick – we are their girlfriend or wife, we are their therapist or life coach, we are their friend in their time of need – even if it’s only for the hour.

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