I Was A 35 Yr Old Single Mom

I was a 35 yr old single mom who did not receive child support payments the court had ordered. I made money as a personal trainer, a yoga instructor, a bikini bar dancer and a stripper. After being injured and out of work long enough to go through my savings, I found my self in a desperate position. While placing my perishables in my neighbor’s refrigerator and freezer (the power was cut off in my apt. ) I felt desperate & ashamed, but thank goodness, I was pretty.

That night, I left my son with my neighbor and dragged myself into the bikini bar. Once there I got dressed, hit the floor and immediately ran into a good looking, lighter haired, younger version of Richard Gere. He was my age, happily married to a beautiful woman who graduated from the university I dreamed of attending. He was a successful, upper middle class businessman.

We had instant chemistry and an ease you usually reserve for close friends. I told him point blank, “I need $300 to get my electricity turned back on”. He made some silly joking response and told me he would cover it, I went further with him in the VIP than I’d ever gone before, allowing him to touch my breast through my clothing and feeling him up as well. By the end of the night, I had the $300 and his phone number. He left with the knowledge that I enjoyed sex and needed help financially. We started seeing each other about once a week, at my apt. when he was supposed to be on his way to work. He didn’t like to have a set amount, so I would let him know what I needed and for what and he would give me the money. In his mind, I guess that made me a girlfriend or mistress instead of a whore. His wife got pregnant and had a child during our time together. I moved to a better neighborhood and he helped with the move and rent. We talked like really good friends, but, toward the end, I was rude and mean just to get rid of him.

I’m not sure what I was thinking when I finally pushed him out of my life, but, soon enough after that, I was out of money and driving to Vegas after a full year of not stripping, begging the manager to let me work his busy shift. I was driving my broke-assed vehicle and singing along fervently with the song lyrics, “Send me an Angel”.

I changed the lyrics and sang out the window, “Send me an angel that can help me get out of debt! Help me get a safe car to drive my kid to school and back! Help me pay for the tools and classes that I need to get better work as an artist! Help me pay for tutoring for my son and healthy groceries and clothes that don’t smell like the last person who owned them even after we wash them again and again!!!! Help me! Help!!!!”

The first customer I ran into was that angel. He was 58 and I was 36. He was a short, successful businessman who liked to take care of and rescue women.

I didn’t have sex with him that night, or the next, I was playing the good girl that I actually was- in another dimension. I went to a party with him, then to his place, then to breakfast, then shopping for clothes and shoes. He gave me his huge beautiful, shiny new spare SUV to drive home to my son and enough cash to cover my rent for the month. By the time I had sex with him, he had given me a credit card with my name on it, a full wardrobe, I had met his friends and colleagues. I cum easy, so the sex is never bad, but, with him it wasn’t great, just good. Of course he never knew that, especially when I ejaculated (I cum easy). I loved the way he treated me, but, was not in love with him. In fact, I could barely stand him. He was a white republican and I was not. I was infiltrating the world of greedy, white, socially conservative men while fully taking advantage of his adoration for my body. I was his whore, though he would have called me his girlfriend, for 8 months. I once counted up all the things I had him purchase, my rent, the cash and the credit card bill and realized I had earned over 150,000 in that 8 months of companionship and sex with a man I didn’t love or care about. I joined a sort of escort service (really just a rich freak who liked to set up older men with hot women) after that and went on 5 or 6 "dates" for anywhere from $500 $1,000 until the tools I had acquired and the skills I had developed (creative computer software) allowed me to start a career in the new media industry. I'm in my 40's now and single. I miss the sex, the power and the instant money of the days I sold my sexuality.

To this day, I look at housewives and girlfriends who don’t pay their own way and wonder if they realize they are prostitutes.

I Figured, What The Hell

My introduction to the biz went down like this: I was boning this guy who would come up from Montreal every weekend and eventually I started seeing someone more local and so the last time that he came to see me I told him I didn't want to see him any more and he asked me if I'd considered ever doing it for money. At the time I figured, what the hell, I've already slept with this guy and now he wants to pay me. Works for me. It was such an ego trip. I branched out after that and started posting ads online whenever I needed money for anything. I discovered that I both enjoyed it and it was not what I had expected at all (sometimes it is exactly what I expected). Most of my johns are middle-aged men with beer bellies who are unhappy with their wives, or are out-of-town on business. They are, on the whole, pretty boring to talk to, but that is what they all want. To talk and then be seduced by a sexy twenty-something. And I am exceptionally good at making them believe that I am genuinely interested, that I'm not faking it (sometimes I'm not), that I really love it when you call me "sweetie" (this is probably my least favourite thing to be called during a session, my Dad calls me sweetie, not good associations). I really shouldn't complain, at $200 an hour you can call me whatever you want. My story isn't full of horribly degrading acts done in the desperation of drug addiction. I'm not from a broken home and my parents are still married. I take pride in doing my job well and leaving my clients satisfied. When I was reviewed the first time, for an online escort review forum, I remember being nervous knowing that the guy was going to write one and was thinking of all the possibly negative things he might mention, like that ingrown hair, or my calloused feet. I was totally obsessing over it. But the review was glowing, as were all the ones that came after it. It isn't a great feeling knowing that you are being evaluated sexually and that your looks, hygiene and even your location (of the incall) are up for criticism. I'm not sure my how my ego would react if I was ever reviewed negatively. It'd be a blow to my self-esteem to be sure. But my reviews speak of me as I wish I was (without acting). I often have trouble seeing what others see as positive in me (even in my personal life) and while the reviews do boast of my carnal skills and my good-looks, they also discuss my fun-loving personality and intelligence. Part of me does this to boost a self-esteem that isn't always there and the other part of me enjoys the power in it all. That is, having something that men want and then making them pay for it. Or alternatively, throwing their money in their face. Figuratively-speaking. I call the shots and if you don't like it, go elsewhere. That and I could never bring myself to work a legit, 9-5 job. I'm 25, I figure I'll do it for a few more years, prove to people that it should be decriminalized here, make some bank (so that I have something to show for it, if my parents ever found out) and get out before it eats me up inside.

I Am A Christian

I am a 37 year old mom with 3 children ages 15,5, and 3. through a recent seperation i found myself in need of a job and no money for daycare. I love my computer and love to "play" online and so i decided what the hell, i could get paid to do this. So a year ago i started my webcam modeling career. The pay is good but not outstanding. The work hours are flexable but i work after the kids are in bed and so i am tired most of the day and have very little time to really enjoy my kids. It is not garenteed work and i spend many hours online just hangin' out in my chat room talking to the guys who beg for free shows or who are drunk and just want to spout off mean stupid stuff to a woman. I am engaged and my fiance' supports me in this job but he is unable to live with me. Many nights i get off work and have been satisfying all these guys with what they want and don't get what i want. It is basically 4 hours of bad sex. After that you are ready for some real physical action with a real person. That being said it ended up putting a stain on my relationship anyway despite all my efforts. Work is consuming my time and therefore i don't have, or don't take the time to persue other intrests. When i do have friends over the conversation ends up turning to sex because that is what i live and breathe. My fantasies are getting more off the wall and i have even resorted to seeking satisfaction from others outside of my relationship. Don't get me wrong, most nights i enjoy what i do and some of the stuff i do is so crazy and funny that i can't wait to tell my fiance' or his friends, but the twist is, do they really want to know about it. The good part of the whole thing is that i have learned a great deal about myself, my limits, my interests, my needs. The bad side is that i have discovered that my needs keeps going up a level the longer i do this. This story has no ending. I am still doing it until something better comes along. Not sure how or even if i should get out of it. I am able to justify the job by telling myself that it is legal and it is safe. That i am saving money in work expenses by not having to leave my home to go to work. I am not sure what the ending is going to be. I am a Christian so i pray to God that it will be a happy one.