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I wasn’t the first person in my circle of friends to have sex for money; that honor went to my roommate Tracy. She was two years older than me and pretty much taught me everything I know about sex. My parents called her a bad influence; I called her my best friend.
Unlike most of the escorts I know who did out-calls, Tracy didn’t meet with a driver; she meet her pimp for a face-to-face interview at his house. How do you interview a potential hooker you might ask? Simple, you fuck her.
I was more than a little nervous the night Tracy went to meet the guy who would turn out to be her pimp. Neither of us knew what to expect or what she was in for that night. It turned out all right though. According to her the guy was nice and a half decent fuck.
Actually, we were both pretty excited about what happened. When she got back to our apartment and told me what happened, we spent the rest of the night saying “you fucked your pimp” over and over again with the disbelief of two school girls. It became our mantra; something to laugh about.
When my turn came, I called a different agency and meet the guy who would drive me around and pimp me out when he picked me up in his van. He knew it was my first time, so we drove around until he could get in touch with one of his regular clients. A gesture obviously meant to ease me into the whole gig. Parked outside of a Dunkin’ Donuts he offered to be my first, you know, take me out for my first spin on the hooker merry-go-round.
I refused, I didn’t want to give it away for free when my intent was to get paid for it. When he offered to pay me, I still said no. Frankly, I didn’t want to fuck someone for money and then have to drive around with them for the rest of the night while fucking other strangers.
Most girls of the girls I got to know through being an escort didn’t feel the same way about it though, and a lot of them ended up fucking their drivers and/or pimps. One girl, Sandra, who became one of my friends carried out an affair with her driver. He was married, but in the hooking business things like that don’t really matter. They would fuck in between calls or sometimes even rent out a hotel room for a night.
I remember her telling me she was in love with him and that he had a big cock. I didn’t buy it. At least not the love part. As for his big cock, that wasn’t something I could tell while staring at the back of his head from the backseat.
Working with those two was always a little surreal. He was a stranger to me; some guy who would drop me off at houses or hotels where men waited to fuck me. I couldn’t understand why someone would want to fuck him for free, especially when he took almost half of our earnings to give back to the agency. In my mind, Sandra was essentially paying some married creep to have an affair with her.
Stay tuned for more dirty details… in the meantime add me on Twitter @misslolabyrd.
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