Subscribe
The first time I had sex for money I was single. The second time I had sex for money I was single. And on and on like that, expect that in my down time my on again off again boyfriend and I would pick things off where we left them, which meant fucking and fighting, and breaking up again.
I was lying on my best friend’s kitchen floor talking to my aforementioned boyfriend subtly trying bring up the subject of prostitution. I mentioned that my friend (the chick whose floor I was lying on) had become an escort. He immediately freaked out. I can’t remember what he said exactly, but it was something along the lines of if I ever did anything like that I’d be dead to him.
Of course, by the time we had this conversation I had already had sex for money and going by his reaction there was no way in hell I was going to tell him. Hey, we were on a break at the time, it was none of his business.
During my escort days, I dated, I slept with people for fun (minus cash), but I never got serious with anybody, so I never had to deal with the complications of having a relationship while being an escort. Some of my friends did though.
I can’t speak for all escorts, but based on my experience a lot of them lie. They lie to their boyfriends, they lie to their friends, they lie to their parents. With good reason. It’s not exactly the most kosher profession in the world. You can’t exactly put it on your resume, so you end up living a partial double life. You have to invent a fake job to explain where you spend your time and how you make a living.
My best friend was a night shift grocery manager, or at least that’s what she told her mother. Her boyfriend knew what she really did for a living though, but it’s not like he had to most upstanding job either. He sold drugs. A pair made in heaven. You can’t really bitch out your girlfriend for having sex for a living when you’re out peddling crack to street hookers.
My best friend’s roommate, another escort, another friend of mine, also had a boyfriend, but she lied to him like their was no tomorrow. The four of them lived together: two hookers, a drug dealer, and a carpenter. The only one who didn’t have a clue was the carpenter. Oh, he knew about the other couple in the mix, and he knew I was also an escort, but he never connected the dots about his own girlfriend. He was either the dumbest person on earth or he was very adept at denial. It probably didn’t hurt that he spent his days in a drug induced daze.
I’m making it sound rather dire, but we were kids and these were all good people. We just found ourselves in incredibly strange circumstances. Good news, all these people are well adjusted members of society these days, for the most part.
Personally, I’m not a good liar. Actually scratch that, I’m a really good liar, I just don’t like doing it. It goes against my principles, or something like that. Lying is what bothered me the most. I could justify everything else, except for lying. I had to lie to my own parents, I had to lie to my friends parents about where they were and what they were doing. I had to lie to my friend (the carpenter) about where his girlfriend was. Not easy, not very pleasant, especially the part about the carpenter, because I had a massive crush on him at the time, but that’s another story for another time.
I moved around a lot during those days, lived with more than one escort at one time or another. One night I was home alone with my roommate’s boyfriend and he found a bunch of business cards between the couch cushions. They were my roommate’s escorting business cards. He confronted me with them, asked me if his girlfriend was I whore. I lied.
I told him they were mine. The anger suddenly slipped from his eyes and was replaced by surprise and interest. It’s funny how a guy will suddenly look at you differently when he knows you take cash for what others give away freely. You’d think that he would have realized that taking money for something other chicks hand out for free made me LESS available.
Read the previous installments of Lola’s adventures by clicking here: I Had Sex For Money
Find me on Twitter @misslolabyrd.
Pingback: Lola Byrd’s Tits In Low Resolution