I love my job. A lot of people disagree with prostitution and the sex industry. They think that all women who work as hookers are in some way being taken advantage of and controlled. That may be true in some cases, but I chose this path. I want to make money out of doing something I love.
How did I first get involved? I was young, I was headstrong, determined. I knew exactly what I wanted. I wanted to be fucked as often as possible. I wanted money. I wanted men and women to want me. I wanted to suck cock and be fucked for a living.
I didn’t answer any ads in the paper and I didn’t work for anyone else. I used my initiative. I bought myself some very sexy lingerie. I wore my tightest dress, with a neckline so low it gave new meaning to the word plunging, and I placed myself outside one of the classiest hotels in London. Although a few cabbies thought I needed a lift, no one asked me if I’d fuck them for money so I went to the hotel bar and bought myself a cocktail. I bought myself a Long Island Iced Tea. Long, cool, sparkling.
I waited until I could find a man who was obviously alone and on business. It isn’t difficult to spot the type. A suit, a wedding ring, five o’clock shadow, drinking on his own but clearly checking out the talent. Too late to be just an after work drink. I sat myself next to one. It doesn’t take much to get the attention of a man on the prowl….I glance at him, then lower my gaze, taking in the length of his torso, the bulge of his cock and balls, the girth of his muscular thighs. I always smile at this point. I know he’s looking for something, a reaction.
It is usually about now that the gentleman in question will strike up a conversation. I won’t bore you with the details of this one. The conversations always tend to be the same. There wasn’t anything different about this one.
Having established he was after some fun and was willing to pay, we took the elevator to his room. Using only a lamp for illumination, we undressed in the shadows, slowly peeling off the layers item by item. He was naked and I was in a sheer, pink balconette bra and matching thong. My nipples pressing against the soft net of the fabric, dark and inviting. My full breasts were spilling over the top. I took a step toward him. His cock was hard, erect, pointing up, with just a thin string of pre-cum dripping from the end.
I knelt in front of him and took his firm prick in my hand. My other hand was lightly caressing his arse cheeks, brushing over the space in between and moving lower, eventually brushing against the back of his balls. I leant in closer, wrapping my lips around his cock, sucking and wanking simultaneously but he pulled me back up so that I was standing before him. Roughly, he drew me closer, my chest against his. He tore my bra from my body, letting my tits fall against the coarse hair of his chest. He licked his lips then he licked mine.
Pulling the middle of my tiny g-string to the side of my wet, warm cunt, finally he fucked me. His mad and relentless thrusting drove me wild until I was screaming with absolute, uncontrolled passion. My body convulsed as I climaxed. I was shaking now, and I could feel his cock throbbing inside me. He worked faster, harder, pounding away at my cunt with his massive dick until I felt the spunk shoot out. Our breathing slowed as our bodies relaxed. We were sweating. It was like any other sexy encounter, except this time I was being paid to do it. I love my job.
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