Sex is legal and trade is legal, therefore if two people agree to give it up and pay it up, so they should. And the experience *can* be good. Customers are well-behaved, well-groomed, their kinks are adorable, and the vast majority don’t have a venereal disease.
However, not all enter into these agreements by choice, or rather the choices are few and are all various degrees of bad. Call center or this. Supermarket food sampling stall or this. Ambassador to Afghanistan or this.
Also, some men like it very, very much when a woman really, really doesn’t want to have sex with them, but must because she received payment for it. By the alleged size of the prostitution industry there’s a multitude of these hopeless romantics.
I want the woman to want me. To pull my arm, lead me to a room, lock the door, then become somber and claim we are crazy to be doing this. Or when we’re still out, ask me if I turned off the stove, and suggest we go check. You can never be too sure, houses burn down all the time.
I once solicited a woman and went to her apartment. I was 23, she was 35 (she said so and I believed her), and she had two working roommates there. It was after my own MEDUSAN COURTESAN had another liaison with some respected member of society, and I was going to teach her a lesson by doing something I didn’t want to do and she didn’t care about. What a revenge I masterminded.
The hooker was lovely, she came to the bathroom to hold my hand as I stepped out of the tub, it must have been an accident-prone place. Then she undressed and I gulped: “Mama!”
Naturally, I started with kissing her on the mouth. She opened her eyes wide but didn’t budge. As I was preparing to mount her, I noticed a large mole on her inner thigh. It threw me and I waned.
She said: “Pohoda, pán Jahoda.” (At ease, Mr Strawberry.) She then offered to switch with another girl, with no additional costs. She thought a younger specimen would be able to bring me in the mood. I said she was already very pretty and exciting, this simply wasn’t for me. I kept her talking until my time ran out. I think we recommended a few products from Tesco to each other. I can’t debauch on cue, but I can yap the living soul out of people.
I was surprised how matter-of-factly she conducted herself. There was no: “Ooh, there’s a man in my chambers, he’s going to have his way with me!” Nothing. There are more emotions when I sit with my bank teller: “Ooh, so little money, Mr Šoth!”