As I may have mentioned earlier last year, I got laid off from my job of 11 years. Well needless to say, the ensuing financial stress took a huge toll on my marriage. Well a couple of months ago my wife had finally had enough of my shit (her words) and took off. I was pretty tore up over it for several weeks, but I toughed it out, not like I’m the first guy in this situation, right?
Anyway, after I got over the mourning and drinking-myself-into-a-nightly-stupor phase, I mentally forced myself to get on with my life. (surprisingly enough, that actually sorta worked) At this point I began to start feeling somewhat lonely. And I mean that in the biblical sense. And by biblical, I mean sexual. Masturbation has it’s place, and I endorse it thoroughly. Vigorously, even. But after a while, even the finest whacker begins to miss the touch of a human being. (no homo) I’m way beyond dating now, I have no illusions about myself. I’m short, scrubby, poor, dumb and ugly. Catching the eye of any woman I actually wanted is pretty much out of the question these days, so I gathered up a couple hundred bucks that were left over from a student loan I recently defaulted on and went cruising the prime meat market known as Southwest Little Rock.
I have to admit, I was scared shitless. I’ve never paid for it before, at least not in the most literal sense of the phrase. So, I gotta tell you, picking out a hooker in Arkansas is every bit as scary and nauseating as it sounds. But eventually, I caught sight of one young(ish) lady who wasn’t completely revolting. Mocha-skinned with a respectable rack and only a barely noticeable paunch. She had big lips and a look on her face like What the fuck, let’s get this done already!. I was intimidated, but hey a man has needs, right? Lookin’ for a good time, white boy?, she was halfway in my passenger window, bent way over to show off her nearly-pendulous tits. Well, too late to turn back now, so I spoke up. Yeah. I had to bite my tongue, because I nearly said Yes ma’am. and I don’t know whether or not that would be considered offensive given the circumstances.
She quoted me a short list of services and I picked what I wanted (a little oral and a fuck, if you’re interested). She said it would be $120 and I agreed. Some of you more experienced guys might be able to tell me if that’s reasonable or not, but at the time I was too nervous and horny to haggle, if you know what I mean. Cash up front, of course, and then it was on. She sat in the seat without speaking, except to direct me to her room. Typical seedy motel, cliche’ even. She led the way to the room, up a flight of worn-out concrete stairs, my eyes glued to her buttocks bump-jiggle, bump-jiggling all the way. I couldn’t shake the feeling that at any moment she would pull out either a gun or a badge and then I’d be fucked in all the wrong ways, but she just opened the door and went in. I peered inside the door, I don’t know if I expected it to be full of gangsters or crackheads or something, but it was just a regular crappy motel room, it was obvious that the bed had been used and then quickly remade. I shut the door behind me and locked it several times. I was sweating like crazy by now and she noticed with a huge smile. “First time, huh?” I nearly bolted!
When I looked back up from my shoes, her shirt had magically evaporated, and she was patting the bed next to her. At the sight of those tig ol’ bitties, my mouth began to water. She had my full attention, and I obediently sat on the bed. She guided my hands gently to her breasts, and before I even knew it my pants were off. It was clear she knew what she was doing, it was so great that for about half an hour there I even forgot that she was black.