Soft and Fuzzy

The first trick I turned wasn’t the first appointment I made. As the sole employee of my own escort agency, I sifted through the hundreds of responses like the industrious receptionist and scheduled three or four appointments from the first ad I placed, entitled “College Girl’s Rent Went Up.” The first client I booked was married and therefore could only host during the day, when I was either in class or working at my unpaid internship. I agreed to come over early morning before my job on the following Monday for an embarrassingly small amount of money.

By the time that appointment rolled around I had a weekend of experience as a whore, and enough money to pay my rent and bills. Intoxicated by my recent discovery of a seemingly unlimited source of fast and easy cash, I was now fucking for spending money.

I showed up in an outfit to match my low rates–a tiny pink minskirt I would now find humiliatingly overt and a tank top with black Payless heels. Luckily, in this situation, it’s very hard to be too obvious. M lived in a weirdo part of New York called Battery Park City which as a recent transplant, I was completely unfamiliar with. You cross a footbridge across the highway in downtown Manhattan and find yourself in a residential area. Besides being freaked out that this little pocket of suburbia even existed, I had agreed to meet M in a park near his house. I was dressed for clubbing at 8 am and wandering aimlessly through a park in Pleasantville. I stuck out like a hooker on a playground, since that was what I was.

Luckily M found me before any local authorities asked me to move it along. He was dressed in a navy suit and looked like Penn or Teller. I can never remember which is which, so just picture whichever one makes the story better for you. He took me back to his house, which was filled with feminine bric a brac like the Precious Moments figurines my grandmother kept in a locked cabinet growing up. I stood in the middle of the room in front of a treadmill cum clothes rack and pulled my clothes off at his request. Next to me, a white and brown cat snoozed. I wondered what he thought when he looked at the naked 19-year-old prostitute disrupting this scene of domesticity. Would he bend me over the very spot where his wife liked to cross-stitch the inspirational sayings that dotted the walls?

Perhaps he had the same thought, because he led me to his bedroom, still fully clothed and started to knead and massage my breasts. My nipples stiffened and I could feel myself getting wet. He moved my hand to his dick and I clutched it through his pants before unzipping him and pulling it out over the waistband of his tighty whiteys. He guided me around so that I was facing away from him and I found myself face to face with a veritable sea of stuffed animals.

I’ll fess up to having a stuffed monkey with a lot of character who sometimes joins me in bed. I’ll even confess that I have caught myself more than once positioning him so that he can better see the television. But the plush menagerie of 20 or 30 toys on the bed of an adult woman was enough to give me the giggles, especially considering the activity about to happen on that bed. I had regained control by the time M asked me if I liked to be spanked.

As a general rule, I always like everything that a client asks for. (What a coincidence, fingering your asshole is my FAVORITE thing to do!) But there are some things in the mandatory bag of tricks that I genuinely do enjoy, and spanking is one of them. (See also: facials, breast play, dirty talk.) So despite the fact that I’m pretty sure one of my nipples was in a Care Bear’s mouth, I was quite happy splayed out on a plush-y cushion while M turned my ass red.

He let his dress pants fall to his ankles and freed his balls from their elastic prison and reunited them with his already-liberated penis. Judging from the size of his erection everyone was quite happy to see one another. He nudged me to move forward and then climbed on top of me and rubbed his cock against my ass a few times. I twisted around and watched as he jerked off, eventually spurting a load of cum onto my ass that still stung slightly from the spanking.

I lay there while he brought me a towel to mop up, then collected my trashy outfit from the living room. A pile of bills sat on the counter that I presumed were for me. The whole thing had only taken about 20 minutes, so before getting a cab to work I ducked into a little clothing store and spent almost the whole wad on new skirts. After all, there was more where that came from.