Ghost Rider
Footballguy
The idea of being ravaged with STDs is far more worse to me. I'd rather just do it myself and stay healthy.
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Have you ever slept with a prostitute? (1 Viewer)
- Thread starter timschochet
- Start date
Apple Jack
Footballguy
Once. Well, I ####ed her, didn't sleep with her. Spent two months driving around Mexico kicking dope with a buddy/chaperone back in my 20s. Pulled into Puerta Vallarta, checked into the hotel and went straight to a bar to hunt for blow and start drinking. The waiter said he'd have us covered for the duration of our stay but didn't have any that night. He suggested we go to this club down the way and quietly ask around. I walk in the door and immediately lock eyes with a chick on the other side of the dance floor. He didn't mention it was a strip club. Hottest chick I'd seen yet in Mex. Blonde...possibly Brazilian. We sit down, order drinks, and not a minute goes by before she comes up and sits in my lap. "Hola." "Hola." "Djou want sex?" "YES. Yes, I do." She nods to a very large man who comes over with a mobile credit card machine. I swipe my card, flag down a chick for my buddy and I'm upstairs getting a blow job (with rubber...what's the point?) within five minutes of walking into what I was expecting to just be a regular off the main drag bar. Had her for 30 minutes. $175 for me and my buddy. $100 for me, $75 for him. Turns out it was Spring Break and all the hot hookers Mexico City get brought down to the spring break towns.
There was a story on a guy I used to work with who used to always get the cheapest, nastiest hookers imaginable when up working the US Open in NYC. And would go down on them. Oof.
There was a story on a guy I used to work with who used to always get the cheapest, nastiest hookers imaginable when up working the US Open in NYC. And would go down on them. Oof.
Papa Georgio
Footballguy
Clifford
Footballguy
T Bell
Footballguy
mquinnjr
Footballguy
timschochet
Footballguy
saintfool
Dead sexy
Arizona Ron
Footballguy
flysack
Footballguy
Ignoramus
Footballguy
:yuck:Was with a prostitute in Germany and while she's blowing me she says "Lick my #####." Even though it's heavily regulated over there, there's no way I'm doing that... I give her an incredulous "What?" She repeats herself and turns out she's saying "Look [at] my #####." Whew.
Evilgrin 72
Distributor of Pain
A few years back, I got a room at the Grand Bohemian in downtown Orlando for myself, my brother, and my buddy. We went out on Church St drinking for a few hours and I got totally feces-faced. I'm talking 10-15 beers and at LEAST as many shots, it was that kind of night. Went back to the room around 1-2 AM and I passed out COLD, and when I say passed out cold, I do mean comatose.
Apparently, my brother and his buddy, who weren't quite done for the night, opened the phone book, called an escort service, and had them deliver a small hair-pie with pepperoni (nipples) to the room. She did a strip tease for them, to the dulcet tones of "New Faith" from Slayer, as we only had 1 CD in the room. They tell me that her hips gyrating as Tom Araya belted out "I keep my Bible in a pool of blood so that none of its lies can affect me!!" was particularly alluring. They then had her give me a face dance for a few minutes as I slept, and my buddy insists he saw her beef curtains flap in the breeze as I snored into her lady-parts. After an hour or so, she had to leave because "she had another client at the airport" but said she'd be back to give them the goodies they'd paid for but not received (oral.) I am completely unaware that any of this is going on. If I'd been awake, I'd have told them there was roughly a .0001% chance that she'd actually return, but they must have found the one honest hooker left in America.
Fast forward to 6:30 AM. I wake up, but am so catatonic, I am unable to open my eyes or move yet. My head is throbbing and it feels like someone glued sandpaper to the insides of my eyelids. I'm desperately trying not to heave all over the carpet of this nice hotel room when I hear a woman's voice saying "so, you guys want those BJs now?" I have no idea who this is or who she's talking to, so you can imagine my bewilderment. I try desperately to see who it is speaking, but my eyes are crusted shut and I'm afraid I'll throw up all over the bed if I lift my head. I hear my brother (Yams) saying - "No, it's cool, it's like 6:30 in the morning, we just want to sleep." She replies, "are you sure?" No response. I hear her get up and walk to the door. She opens the door and says : "OK, have a good night guys........" followed by a long pregnant pause, clearly giving them one last chance to come to their senses. The door does not close, so I know she's just standing there waiting for a response.
The response comes from my brother's posterior in the form of a ten-second fart that audibly drops in pitch every few seconds. If you wrote it out in sheet music it would look like :
xxxxxxxxx---------------------------------------------------------------------------
-------------xxxxxxxxxx-------------------------------------------------------------
---------------------------xxxxxxxxxxxx--------------------------------------------
--------------------------------------------xxxxxxxxxxx-----------------------------
------------------------------------------------------------xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx------
...followed by the closing of the door - **ka-chunk**
I was laughing so hard, still unaware of what was going on, that I threw up all over the floor between the beds. Shortly thereafter, I fell back to sleep.
6 hours later, we all woke up, 30 minutes past checkout, and leaving my brother and friend 30 minutes to drive the hour back to Melbourne to get to peer review for their PhD theses or some s---. Needless to say, they didn't make it. After pulling over in a Burger King parking lot on the way back, at which point all three of us threw up out of individual doors of my friend's Civic, they stopped and bought a big bag of beef jerky at my behest to apologize to their professor/advisor for missing peer review. I wish I could have been there when they gave whatever BS excuse they dreamed up as to why they missed the meeting and then tried to bribe their way out of trouble with dried beef.
That's all I got vis-a-vis hookers.
Apparently, my brother and his buddy, who weren't quite done for the night, opened the phone book, called an escort service, and had them deliver a small hair-pie with pepperoni (nipples) to the room. She did a strip tease for them, to the dulcet tones of "New Faith" from Slayer, as we only had 1 CD in the room. They tell me that her hips gyrating as Tom Araya belted out "I keep my Bible in a pool of blood so that none of its lies can affect me!!" was particularly alluring. They then had her give me a face dance for a few minutes as I slept, and my buddy insists he saw her beef curtains flap in the breeze as I snored into her lady-parts. After an hour or so, she had to leave because "she had another client at the airport" but said she'd be back to give them the goodies they'd paid for but not received (oral.) I am completely unaware that any of this is going on. If I'd been awake, I'd have told them there was roughly a .0001% chance that she'd actually return, but they must have found the one honest hooker left in America.
Fast forward to 6:30 AM. I wake up, but am so catatonic, I am unable to open my eyes or move yet. My head is throbbing and it feels like someone glued sandpaper to the insides of my eyelids. I'm desperately trying not to heave all over the carpet of this nice hotel room when I hear a woman's voice saying "so, you guys want those BJs now?" I have no idea who this is or who she's talking to, so you can imagine my bewilderment. I try desperately to see who it is speaking, but my eyes are crusted shut and I'm afraid I'll throw up all over the bed if I lift my head. I hear my brother (Yams) saying - "No, it's cool, it's like 6:30 in the morning, we just want to sleep." She replies, "are you sure?" No response. I hear her get up and walk to the door. She opens the door and says : "OK, have a good night guys........" followed by a long pregnant pause, clearly giving them one last chance to come to their senses. The door does not close, so I know she's just standing there waiting for a response.
The response comes from my brother's posterior in the form of a ten-second fart that audibly drops in pitch every few seconds. If you wrote it out in sheet music it would look like :
xxxxxxxxx---------------------------------------------------------------------------
-------------xxxxxxxxxx-------------------------------------------------------------
---------------------------xxxxxxxxxxxx--------------------------------------------
--------------------------------------------xxxxxxxxxxx-----------------------------
------------------------------------------------------------xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx------
...followed by the closing of the door - **ka-chunk**
I was laughing so hard, still unaware of what was going on, that I threw up all over the floor between the beds. Shortly thereafter, I fell back to sleep.
6 hours later, we all woke up, 30 minutes past checkout, and leaving my brother and friend 30 minutes to drive the hour back to Melbourne to get to peer review for their PhD theses or some s---. Needless to say, they didn't make it. After pulling over in a Burger King parking lot on the way back, at which point all three of us threw up out of individual doors of my friend's Civic, they stopped and bought a big bag of beef jerky at my behest to apologize to their professor/advisor for missing peer review. I wish I could have been there when they gave whatever BS excuse they dreamed up as to why they missed the meeting and then tried to bribe their way out of trouble with dried beef.
That's all I got vis-a-vis hookers.
Last edited by a moderator:
timschochet
Footballguy
Tom Servo
Nittany Beavers
Tom Servo
Nittany Beavers
Apple Jack
Footballguy
I was wincing reading about that hangover.
I have another possible prostitute run-in, but I'm not sure. I worked an event in Vegas with a two-week event cycle, so spent two weeks on the strip. Burned the candle from both ends all trip, but Sunday in the middle was our one free day. My buddy and I woke up at seven, showered, went to the bar and got bloodies, got in the car, went to the store and bought thermoses and bloody makin's, and went up to the country club where a college acquaintance was the director of golf. Played 36 holes, killing all bloodies and many ####ty beers in the process. Something must have happened between there and strip, but I don't recall that part. Next thing I know, I'm on the main floor of the the Bellagio, trying to convince myself that I wasn't hitting on my buddy's fiance (that's just a flash of a memory there, but I do know that we went to dinner with them a few nights later and I was compelled to apologize.) Anyway, so car bombs, jaeger, vicodin, whatever. No idea really. So the hotel phone wakes me up in the morning. Both eyeballs are hanging out and I can barely breathe without throwing up. It's a coworker and they're downstairs waiting on me to leave for the venue. Then just as I notice a scent of perfume and sex my coworker says, "who was the chick who answered the phone the first time?" "Who?" Turns out he had called once already to say we were meeting a half hour later. I look around and there is no chick. That was too much to process so I just say give me a couple minutes I'm coming. I get up and immediately have to bolt for the bathroom to puke, when I run through a pile of vomit on the floor in the dressing area. Okay. That brings the last of any moisture in my body out through my salivary glands and my throat in the form of a violent purging. Finally gather myself, do a very rough attempt at a cleanup, both me and the floor, get dressed and run downstairs. I swing by the front desk informing them that I'll be needing to change rooms when i return. The coworkers are all laughing and shaking their heads as I walk up. My coworker who was managing the event with me has tears in his eyes. So over the course of a day spent setting up routers, running cat5 cable and throwing up, the guy who was with me is filling me in on the bits and pieces he remembers. Yes, I did sing bits of Sexy Mouther####er to my this guy's fiance after doing a car bomb with the two of them. (I still feel shame for that. I haven't hooked up with a friend's woman since high school, so save me the lecture.) And yes, a chick did come sit down next to me while playing video poker and I did talk to her. He doesn't know if she was a hooker, but that was when the last person who knew me left my proximity for the night. Needless to say all cash that I had was gone, though for all I know it was gone before we ever got back to the strip. I just hoped I didn't screw a hooker, because I had a box of rubbers in my suitcase for a chick who was coming in a couple nights later and they were untouched. My buddy thinks it was with the evidence that I was mostly incoherent when he left. I think it was not, as I didn't have enough cash for a hooker and would have had a leftover jimmy around. I got tested a few weeks later and it came up triple bars. All good.
ETA: Thinking this might lose me my anonymity with a few posters.
I have another possible prostitute run-in, but I'm not sure. I worked an event in Vegas with a two-week event cycle, so spent two weeks on the strip. Burned the candle from both ends all trip, but Sunday in the middle was our one free day. My buddy and I woke up at seven, showered, went to the bar and got bloodies, got in the car, went to the store and bought thermoses and bloody makin's, and went up to the country club where a college acquaintance was the director of golf. Played 36 holes, killing all bloodies and many ####ty beers in the process. Something must have happened between there and strip, but I don't recall that part. Next thing I know, I'm on the main floor of the the Bellagio, trying to convince myself that I wasn't hitting on my buddy's fiance (that's just a flash of a memory there, but I do know that we went to dinner with them a few nights later and I was compelled to apologize.) Anyway, so car bombs, jaeger, vicodin, whatever. No idea really. So the hotel phone wakes me up in the morning. Both eyeballs are hanging out and I can barely breathe without throwing up. It's a coworker and they're downstairs waiting on me to leave for the venue. Then just as I notice a scent of perfume and sex my coworker says, "who was the chick who answered the phone the first time?" "Who?" Turns out he had called once already to say we were meeting a half hour later. I look around and there is no chick. That was too much to process so I just say give me a couple minutes I'm coming. I get up and immediately have to bolt for the bathroom to puke, when I run through a pile of vomit on the floor in the dressing area. Okay. That brings the last of any moisture in my body out through my salivary glands and my throat in the form of a violent purging. Finally gather myself, do a very rough attempt at a cleanup, both me and the floor, get dressed and run downstairs. I swing by the front desk informing them that I'll be needing to change rooms when i return. The coworkers are all laughing and shaking their heads as I walk up. My coworker who was managing the event with me has tears in his eyes. So over the course of a day spent setting up routers, running cat5 cable and throwing up, the guy who was with me is filling me in on the bits and pieces he remembers. Yes, I did sing bits of Sexy Mouther####er to my this guy's fiance after doing a car bomb with the two of them. (I still feel shame for that. I haven't hooked up with a friend's woman since high school, so save me the lecture.) And yes, a chick did come sit down next to me while playing video poker and I did talk to her. He doesn't know if she was a hooker, but that was when the last person who knew me left my proximity for the night. Needless to say all cash that I had was gone, though for all I know it was gone before we ever got back to the strip. I just hoped I didn't screw a hooker, because I had a box of rubbers in my suitcase for a chick who was coming in a couple nights later and they were untouched. My buddy thinks it was with the evidence that I was mostly incoherent when he left. I think it was not, as I didn't have enough cash for a hooker and would have had a leftover jimmy around. I got tested a few weeks later and it came up triple bars. All good.
ETA: Thinking this might lose me my anonymity with a few posters.
Last edited by a moderator:
Leroy Hoard
Footballguy
I try not to fall asleep, I like my wallet too much.
Tom Servo
Nittany Beavers
tom22406
Footballguy
I just got back from a trip to Amsterdam with some friends. On the final night, some of the guys I was with said they wanted to check out the Red Light District again and get with a prostitute.
Before this trip, I had always seen prostitution as seedy and somewhat sad and immoral. The way prostitutes are presented with such nonchalance in Amsterdam peeled off much of the seediness for me, making it at least plausible to partake in, but I was still unsure if it was something I would do.
We started walking around looking at the windows and making a note of who we found the hottest. The thing that most surprised me is how insanely pretty these girls are. They're not your typical degraded slutty whores, but model-like, classy ladies. One of my friends found this crazy hot blonde and decided she was the one. Off he went, through the glass door, curtains closing behind him. My other friend found another blonde and went off with her shortly afterwards. I decided to stick around to hear their feedback.
After roughly 15 minutes, the first friend came out. He told me she was amazingly hot, great sex, blah blah and seemed so blazé about the whole thing. The second friend soon came back and said pretty much the same things. Next it was my turn to find a girl I really liked, so we went looking around again, my friends pointing out girls I might like. After a while I noticed this absurdly beautiful brunette and we locked eyes. Whereas other prostitutes would usually wave towards potential clientele and do a little dance, this one did nothing but stare at me with this ridiculous gaze. I said to myself #### it and just went up to her door and opened it.
She told me her price, I nodded and went behind the curtain to find a little dim-lit room with a bed and a bedside cabinet with condoms and lube on it. She asked me where I was from and then told me she was from the Czech Republic. After paying her, I asked her her age and she said 24. She asked me to take off my clothes and lie on the bed. I complied and she put a condom on me and began sucking my ####. It felt strange having just seen this girl for the first time 3 minutes ago and she was now giving me head, but I tried not to think too much and just enjoyed it. I tried to finger her but she pushed my hand away and said "not the #####, but the breast is okay. Also, no kissing". At that point I realized how cold and mechanical this whole thing was. There was zero bond, zero connection, zero warmth. It was all so clinical. I ####ed her anyway and she began to make all these obviously forced moans which just reinforced how fake the whole thing was. After a while she told me the time was up so we stopped and I put my clothes back on, left the room and we didn't exchange a single word.
The sex was good, and she was monstrously good looking with a photoshop-perfect body, but I left feeling completely numb rather than satisfied or content. I found it weird how casual my friends were about their experience. They were really happy about ####### their model girls, and went into detail about what they did with them, whereas I didn't really feel like sharing anything because it didn't really feel like a real experience. The worst part was turning around and seeing her standing by her window again, waiting for the next customer.
This event has been on my mind ever since, and I felt like sharing it here and seeing what people thought about prostitution in general. I guess some guys have no trouble taking it for what it is? For me it was just far too cold and impersonal to take much from it.
Before this trip, I had always seen prostitution as seedy and somewhat sad and immoral. The way prostitutes are presented with such nonchalance in Amsterdam peeled off much of the seediness for me, making it at least plausible to partake in, but I was still unsure if it was something I would do.
We started walking around looking at the windows and making a note of who we found the hottest. The thing that most surprised me is how insanely pretty these girls are. They're not your typical degraded slutty whores, but model-like, classy ladies. One of my friends found this crazy hot blonde and decided she was the one. Off he went, through the glass door, curtains closing behind him. My other friend found another blonde and went off with her shortly afterwards. I decided to stick around to hear their feedback.
After roughly 15 minutes, the first friend came out. He told me she was amazingly hot, great sex, blah blah and seemed so blazé about the whole thing. The second friend soon came back and said pretty much the same things. Next it was my turn to find a girl I really liked, so we went looking around again, my friends pointing out girls I might like. After a while I noticed this absurdly beautiful brunette and we locked eyes. Whereas other prostitutes would usually wave towards potential clientele and do a little dance, this one did nothing but stare at me with this ridiculous gaze. I said to myself #### it and just went up to her door and opened it.
She told me her price, I nodded and went behind the curtain to find a little dim-lit room with a bed and a bedside cabinet with condoms and lube on it. She asked me where I was from and then told me she was from the Czech Republic. After paying her, I asked her her age and she said 24. She asked me to take off my clothes and lie on the bed. I complied and she put a condom on me and began sucking my ####. It felt strange having just seen this girl for the first time 3 minutes ago and she was now giving me head, but I tried not to think too much and just enjoyed it. I tried to finger her but she pushed my hand away and said "not the #####, but the breast is okay. Also, no kissing". At that point I realized how cold and mechanical this whole thing was. There was zero bond, zero connection, zero warmth. It was all so clinical. I ####ed her anyway and she began to make all these obviously forced moans which just reinforced how fake the whole thing was. After a while she told me the time was up so we stopped and I put my clothes back on, left the room and we didn't exchange a single word.
The sex was good, and she was monstrously good looking with a photoshop-perfect body, but I left feeling completely numb rather than satisfied or content. I found it weird how casual my friends were about their experience. They were really happy about ####### their model girls, and went into detail about what they did with them, whereas I didn't really feel like sharing anything because it didn't really feel like a real experience. The worst part was turning around and seeing her standing by her window again, waiting for the next customer.
This event has been on my mind ever since, and I felt like sharing it here and seeing what people thought about prostitution in general. I guess some guys have no trouble taking it for what it is? For me it was just far too cold and impersonal to take much from it.
flysack
Footballguy
This is exactly why I've never been with a hooker.
I've heard stories where the girl really got into it (usually strippers drunk at the end of the night, friends offer them some money to come back to the hotel room, everyone has a wild time), but I can't see it it being anything other than a mechanical act, that doesn't do it for me.
/bummerpostsucks.
Captain Quinoa
Footballguy
Captain Quinoa
Footballguy
I'm calling BS on your friend driving a Civic.Evilgrin 72 said:
whoknew
Footballguy
That's just Amsterdam. It doesn't have to be like that. You can find girls that will snugglebear and spoon with you, if that's what you want.
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![[icon]](/data/avatars/m/5/5167.jpg?1660313464){kind=avatar}
[icon]
Insoxicated
Wait, aren't you the guy with the wife who's been denying you any action for years?datonn said:Nope, and I never will.
Though I had a roommate on a business trip bring two back to our room after staying out a couple hours later than I did. I was right in the middle of a Skype chat with my wife out in the living room, when he stumbles in, a bit drunk, a hooker on each arm, asking "if I wanted one" (in front of the webcam, no less). So I said to my wife: "What do you think, ________? Do I want one?"She knew I was completely joking, and I excused myself to my bedroom to continue our Skype call while he partook in a little somethin'-somethin' with those two women. It actually was a funny, cool experience. As my wife knew I'd never cheat on her (even with temptation literally feet away in the other room), and I knew I could get away with asking her if "she was into it" (me having a little sexual adventure with some random stranger while on the road). LOL. We've had our troubles in our marriage...for sure! But we both know that the other would never, ever cheat.
seahawk 17
Footballguy
My buddy lost his virginity to a hooker he found on Craigslist. She told him to knock on the door to the garage so he did. She takes him into the garage where there was a mattress and a heat lamp. He said it was a miserable experience but he got the first one out of the way.
St. Louis Bob
Footballguy
You guys sure do puke a lot.
St. Louis Bob
Footballguy
Well, if you don't even like sex why would you cheat?datonn said:Nope, and I never will.
Though I had a roommate on a business trip bring two back to our room after staying out a couple hours later than I did. I was right in the middle of a Skype chat with my wife out in the living room, when he stumbles in, a bit drunk, a hooker on each arm, asking "if I wanted one" (in front of the webcam, no less). So I said to my wife: "What do you think, ________? Do I want one?"
Evilgrin 72
Distributor of Pain
(HULK)
(Smash)
No, he's the guy who sees ghosts and I'm just looking for an excuse to whitestar this thread....Wait, aren't you the guy with the wife who's been denying you any action for years?datonn said:Nope, and I never will.
Though I had a roommate on a business trip bring two back to our room after staying out a couple hours later than I did. I was right in the middle of a Skype chat with my wife out in the living room, when he stumbles in, a bit drunk, a hooker on each arm, asking "if I wanted one" (in front of the webcam, no less). So I said to my wife: "What do you think, ________? Do I want one?"
Who on Earth doesn't like sex?Well, if you don't even like sex why would you cheat?datonn said:Nope, and I never will.
Though I had a roommate on a business trip bring two back to our room after staying out a couple hours later than I did. I was right in the middle of a Skype chat with my wife out in the living room, when he stumbles in, a bit drunk, a hooker on each arm, asking "if I wanted one" (in front of the webcam, no less). So I said to my wife: "What do you think, ________? Do I want one?"
What I've said before is that the older I've gotten, the less my mind and actions are ruled by my "member." And the more I've found other things that give my mind/heart enjoyment and fulfillment. The greatest sport on God's Earth being one of them. 
Guys do insanely stupid things in the name of trying to not make their "member" so isolated/lonely. Put themselves into financial hardship or ruin, wind up with court dates, et al. Seriously moronic, immature behavior! I just reached a point in life where I said "enough." Then if the opportunity for a little play-time presents itself, awesome. But my mind/actions have no longer been ruled by sexual desires. Think about it: if a guy is willing to pay 1-4+ hours of their life in spent wages...just to have a random stranger spend 10-20 minutes pretending what's in their pants is a salty popsicle, what does that say about where they're emotionally/intellectually at as a human being? What their priorities are?
And you know the dirty little secret? The less you pursue women (or a particular woman), the more they start to pursue you. Because many/most of them love sex too...but are accustomed to men tripping all over themselves and impersonating an ATM to get it. Basically, making complete ###es of themselves and doing 80-90% of the work just to be "rewarded" with what they want as much as you do. If you can actually reach a point where you can "take it or leave it," not for an evening...I'm talking days/weeks of "whatever," I can almost guarantee that you'll be "the hunted" more than you expect. Which is kind of nice...instead of having to be "the hunter" all the time.
Officer Pete Malloy
Footballguy
(HULK)
(Smash)
I would be fibbing if I didn't say a part of me considered keeping my Fanduel winnings secret and investing in this activity. Especially once I learned that several/the majority of the ladies that RN is a savant about actually are available.
That part was over-ruled by other parts of me and my FD winnings are mostly now in joint savings.
That part was over-ruled by other parts of me and my FD winnings are mostly now in joint savings.
Thorn
Footballguy
"I" think "you" protest "too much."Who on Earth doesn't like sex?Well, if you don't even like sex why would you cheat?datonn said:Nope, and I never will.
Though I had a roommate on a business trip bring two back to our room after staying out a couple hours later than I did. I was right in the middle of a Skype chat with my wife out in the living room, when he stumbles in, a bit drunk, a hooker on each arm, asking "if I wanted one" (in front of the webcam, no less). So I said to my wife: "What do you think, ________? Do I want one?"
Guys do insanely stupid things in the name of trying to not make their "member" so isolated/lonely. Put themselves into financial hardship or ruin, wind up with court dates, et al. Seriously moronic, immature behavior! I just reached a point in life where I said "enough." Then if the opportunity for a little play-time presents itself, awesome. But my mind/actions have no longer been ruled by sexual desires. Think about it: if a guy is willing to pay 1-4+ hours of their life in spent wages...just to have a random stranger spend 10-20 minutes pretending what's in their pants is a salty popsicle, what does that say about where they're emotionally/intellectually at as a human being? What their priorities are?
And you know the dirty little secret? The less you pursue women (or a particular woman), the more they start to pursue you. Because many/most of them love sex too...but are accustomed to men tripping all over themselves and impersonating an ATM to get it. Basically, making complete ###es of themselves and doing 80-90% of the work just to be "rewarded" with what they want as much as you do. If you can actually reach a point where you can "take it or leave it," not for an evening...I'm talking days/weeks of "whatever," I can almost guarantee that you'll be "the hunted" more than you expect. Which is kind of nice...instead of having to be "the hunter" all the time.
Officer Pete Malloy
Footballguy
Ignoramus
Footballguy
""Goodposting"""I" think "you" protest "too much."Who on Earth doesn't like sex?Well, if you don't even like sex why would you cheat?datonn said:Nope, and I never will.
Though I had a roommate on a business trip bring two back to our room after staying out a couple hours later than I did. I was right in the middle of a Skype chat with my wife out in the living room, when he stumbles in, a bit drunk, a hooker on each arm, asking "if I wanted one" (in front of the webcam, no less). So I said to my wife: "What do you think, ________? Do I want one?"
And you know the dirty little secret? The less you pursue women (or a particular woman), the more they start to pursue you. Because many/most of them love sex too...but are accustomed to men tripping all over themselves and impersonating an ATM to get it. Basically, making complete ###es of themselves and doing 80-90% of the work just to be "rewarded" with what they want as much as you do. If you can actually reach a point where you can "take it or leave it," not for an evening...I'm talking days/weeks of "whatever," I can almost guarantee that you'll be "the hunted" more than you expect. Which is kind of nice...instead of having to be "the hunter" all the time.
McGarnicle
Footballguy
Most of my prostitute stories are a bit depraved, but this one isn't too bad.
I was with a friend from HS walking out of a strip joint at closing time in a really bad neighborhood in Bridgeport, CT. I had been drinking, so my buddy was trying to hail a cab while I tried to just stand upright. I noticed a woman approaching guys as they left the place and they all shook their heads. When she got to me she said "suck your #### for 5 dollars baby". She was black, probably 40ish, and looked like she'd been up for a while. Scratching a lot, teeth weren't the best, maybe a hot shower and a change of clothes would've helped as well. I immediately took out my wallet and saw that I only had two dollars left. There goes my chance, I said to myself. But she looked really excited when she saw the two dollars and said that would be fine. She started walking toward an alley so I kind of gestured to my friend and he just looked at me and shook his head. I guess he was bummed that he didn't even have two dollars. His loss!
When I arrived in the alley I was surprised that my date was already down on her knees. I guess we're getting down to business! But what she lacked in conversation, she made up for with some really solid technique. I guess my only complaint was that there was no place to lay down and savor the experience, and to this day I think this may be the only time I've ever climaxed standing up. All I can say is it was over too quickly.
After I gave her the two dollars we got to talking and it turns out she knew the guy I used to buy weed from. We actually chatted for about 20 minutes and I asked for her phone number. Unfortunately she didn't have a phone, but she said she was always "around the way" and we could "kick it" anytime I was in the area. Needless to say I found myself in the area quite often after that, and we "dated" I guess you'd say for about 5 months.
All in all, it was a very fulfilling and meaningful experience that I wouldn't trade for anything.
I was with a friend from HS walking out of a strip joint at closing time in a really bad neighborhood in Bridgeport, CT. I had been drinking, so my buddy was trying to hail a cab while I tried to just stand upright. I noticed a woman approaching guys as they left the place and they all shook their heads. When she got to me she said "suck your #### for 5 dollars baby". She was black, probably 40ish, and looked like she'd been up for a while. Scratching a lot, teeth weren't the best, maybe a hot shower and a change of clothes would've helped as well. I immediately took out my wallet and saw that I only had two dollars left. There goes my chance, I said to myself. But she looked really excited when she saw the two dollars and said that would be fine. She started walking toward an alley so I kind of gestured to my friend and he just looked at me and shook his head. I guess he was bummed that he didn't even have two dollars. His loss!
When I arrived in the alley I was surprised that my date was already down on her knees. I guess we're getting down to business! But what she lacked in conversation, she made up for with some really solid technique. I guess my only complaint was that there was no place to lay down and savor the experience, and to this day I think this may be the only time I've ever climaxed standing up. All I can say is it was over too quickly.
After I gave her the two dollars we got to talking and it turns out she knew the guy I used to buy weed from. We actually chatted for about 20 minutes and I asked for her phone number. Unfortunately she didn't have a phone, but she said she was always "around the way" and we could "kick it" anytime I was in the area. Needless to say I found myself in the area quite often after that, and we "dated" I guess you'd say for about 5 months.
All in all, it was a very fulfilling and meaningful experience that I wouldn't trade for anything.
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