How did I become a whore? How does anyone become a whore? Well, actually, there are many reasons that girls take to selling their bodies, and we are all different. In my case, my career got started when I first began to hang around on casual encounters websites.
When I first started meeting strangers for sex, something changed inside me. I knew that I had found my station in life, and I loved it!
I’d never dreamed of becoming a hooker. In fact, for years I had lived what I thought was a totally normal life. For a while I worked as a legal secretary in the central business district, arranging meetings and keeping the place running.
I didn’t get many kicks out of that. When I left the office, I taught English for a while, but soon got tired. I knew that I needed something more basic, something wilder and more exciting, but I had no idea what it was, and the employment agency couldn’t help me.
I used to see a hooker on my street every now and then. She didn’t seem too unhappy, but I never thought of copying her. I hardly spoke to her as I passed her in the evening. In fact, I spoke to her once when I was waiting for a bus.
“Look her love,” she said, looking into my eyes, “it’s not such a bad life. You could do it, you know” and she laughed. She smiled and walked off to find a client.
I knew I couldn’t be like my local hooker, but maybe she had planted something in my mind. All I know is that a few weeks later I had signed up to a casual encounters website. I was hungry for physical passion. My working day left me desperate for human contact, for raw sex, but the guys at my college were useless.
So I started hooking up with horny guys in my area.
At first I loved it. I loved being free to meet men who just wanted one thing, and were passionate about getting it. There was none of the bullshit that you get from dating sites. Here, it was all about sex. But I still felt that something was lacking.
After having sex, sometimes the guys would want to get to know me. They asked about my career, my dreams. I didn’t have any, and I hated my career. I just wanted simplicity, I didn’t need bosom buddies when I could have fuck buddies.
So I just made my apologies and left them hanging. One day I was chatting on the site and a guy messaged me. He’d seen my gallery, which was filled with pictures of me in sexy uniforms or lingerie. It was pretty hot, and it was meant to be.
I knew by now what turned on the guys on the site. But this guy had his wires crossed. “Hi there,” he said, “how much would it cost to make an appointment?” An appointment? Cost? I went on hook-ups, not appointments. I wasn’t a dentist.
“I’m sorry, I think you’ve got the wrong idea..” I started to type, and then stopped. Clearly this handsome, horny guy had seen my profile and guessed that I was a hooker. It had never occurred to me to sell myself, but now the words of that whore on my street came back to me. Perhaps that’s what I wanted all along. Maybe it’s what turns me on.
“Yes,” I replied, “that’s right, love” and I quoted him what turned out to be a ridiculously low fee. He took it in his stride, and we arranged to meet at his apartment. I dressed for the occasion, with a long coat and very little underneath.
His eyes lit up when he unhooked my belt and the coat was stripped away, leaving a black corset and suspenders, with fuck-me heels and a choker around the neck. It was tied with a delicate bow – something that I had thought of as I was leaving my home.
But in seconds he had his teeth around it and was untying it with them. Suddenly, he leaped onto me like a wolf. My first client was a raving sex-crazed beast – and this was my very first appointment, but it felt completely natural.
There wasn’t any small talk before he had me in his arms, pounding me harder than I’d ever been fucked before. This was a guy who needed the purely physical pleasure that a hooker like me could provide. He wasn’t into chat, when his cock could do the talking for him.
After an hour, he rolled off me. I was gasping with pleasure and exhaustion, having been treated to one of the most athletic sessions of my life. Still, my client said nothing as he went to his coat and took out a roll of bills.
Putting them in the garter of my suspender (which made me feel like a real whore), he placed his hand on my cheek and kissed me.
“I know it’s your first time” he said, tenderly, “I just wanted to make it right.” He’d known from the low rate I quoted that I was a novice, and when I looked at the money, he’d doubled the fee.
“Thanks,” was pretty much all I could say, as we said our goodbyes and I tied the belt of my coat, before hearing the clip of my heels on his front pathway. In bed that night, I felt different.
Previously, encounters had left me yearning for more. This time, I felt complete. It didn’t make me want to stop being a hooker. In fact, it made me even more determined to explore this new side of me.
From then on, the online encounters site became my office. I said goodbye to teaching and signed off from my employment agency. Now, I can have all of the encounters I want and earn enough to live on at the same time.
But for me, being a hooker isn’t about the money. It’s just the way I enjoy sex – impersonal, simple, professional. I do a great job, or so my clients say, and everybody’s happy. I've even seen a few guys from my old law office, but I'm not sure they recognized me.