I'd Settle For Somewhere Between Monogamy And Full Blown Prostitution

I'm not sure how I first got addicted to casual sex ads online. I think I'd been a single lesbian for so long that I was sick of everything – sick of the label "lesbian" and curious about men, and sick of having no sex life.

I started sleeping with fairly safe ordinary vanilla married men that I found on Craigslist and other sites. I screened them carefully – phoning them at work, getting real life details that I passed on to my friends so they always knew whom I was with. It really was a grand experiment. But I loved the thrill of it all and it wasn't long before I was seeing kinkier guys, and engaging in more extreme situations such as partner swapping and threesomes. I came to have a regular lover and we even explored swinging parties.

All of this boosted my self-esteem, my sex drive and my joy in living. I always had a smile on my face. I posed for a lesbian sex magazine as a centrefold – even though I was a size 16. I felt like I'd claimed my body and its sexuality. I started wondering if really I was bisexual.

Most of the time it an amazing journey. On the odd occasion, it was dull-as-dishwater sex with men who really bored me and had no skill in the bedroom. During those moments, I did wonder what the difference was between myself and a prostitute. After all, I was sleeping with men I didn't care for, that I'd met on-line, and would never have emotional attachments to. The only real difference was that I wasn't getting any cash at the end of the hour.

I started to put some of my own ads on-line – seeking dinner and drinks before sex, or even a sugar daddy arrangement. None of this I thought qualified me as a pro. Then I received an interesting offer. $1500 for my "anal virginity."

I considered the offer carefully, and talked to a few trusted friends. I found out that once of my friends did have a secret whoring past, while another admitted to working in a brothel as a "receptionist." I was surprised. I decided they seemed well adjusted enough, and that I'd take the money. I emailed the guy to say I'd be up for it. But he never came through with a time or date, and I eventually figured he was stringing me along in exchange for the few naked photos I'd sent.

Figuring I'd already come so far, I posted ads for my services – marketing myself as a curvy F cup, bisexual prostitute. I asked for an outrageous rate, about $2000 an hour, and planned to book a hotel room in a different city for a few days to see how it all went. The emails flowed thick and fast – but none of my potential johns could match the $2000 an hour – apparently the going rate for a BBW woman was about $200, even if she was bisexual and double-degree educated!

I thought about it. $200 an hour didn't actually seem like a lot of money, considering I was earning about $1000 a week just to work in an office. And working in an office was at least a job I felt I could admit to. So I didn't go through with it. Mostly because I didn't think the money would compensate for the stress of a secret life on the side.

Two years down the track, and I'm in a monogamous relationship with another woman. I do love her, but I'm sexually frustrated, miss sleeping with men, and miss the excitement of online hook-ups. I'm glad I never actually accepted cash-for-sex but wish I could negotiate some middle ground of excitement. I'd settle for somewhere between monogamy and full-blown prostitution.