Everyone in this story is over 18.
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I guess what led me to being an escort is a bit of a cliche. Poor college student. Trying to make it on my own. Failing to earn enough money to support myself. A friend told me how they made money. Nothing unheard of.
Except I am a guy.
This is not a story of someone naive. I have always known I am good looking and I worked hard to be that way. People have always let me know it as well. As a child, I was always told how handsome I was going to be. Puberty did not change that. No awkward stages. I sprouted early. I was always comfortable around girls. As the only boy with five sisters and no male cousins, girls were just something I was at ease with. I played sports but was not a jock. I did quite well at school but was not a nerd. I was outgoing but not a showoff.
As I said, I worked on my appearance a lot. Since age 14 I have worked out. Not just weightlifting, but running daily, swimming, biking, hiking. My body showed it. I was 6'4", 210 pounds at age 18. Lean and muscular.
I also knew by then that I had a great cock. It first came up in the locker room, as things like that always do. Some guys are show-ers and some guys are growers. I was both. Limp I was around five inches. Hard about eight. Pretty thick as well in comparison to others. A couple of the guys started joking about my "trunk". It became a joke in the track team locker room. They gave me the nickname of elephant. People would ask what the name meant but I would always blow it off. That stuff always comes out. Some guy tells his girlfriend, she tells a friend, soon a lot of people know. Not that I was complaining.
Even before this I had no problem hooking up. Head at the movies, handjobs at a party, sex was easy. Dated a lot but never had a steady girlfriend. I was "that guy" in high school. I did not want a serious girlfriend. I knew that I could not be distracted. I grew up in a small town north of Boston where most people did not go off to college. They just stayed put after graduation. I did not want that. I wanted to leave.
My family life was less than ideal. My mom and dad got married once they found out mom was pregnant. Mom was seven months pregnant at the wedding. They ended up having six kids over nine years. I came along near the middle. When dad found out mom was pregnant the last time he bounced. Did not hear much from him over the years other than a few cards with a $5 bill in it. I know it was tough on mom but she did not get much sympathy from me. She was not kind and just an unhappy person in life. Always had been.
I decided early in my teen years that I was going to get away and stay away. I studied hard and did a lot of extra-curricular activities. Track, swimming, volunteering, tutoring other students, computer club, fundraising. If a teacher recommended it, I did it. I graduated second in my class, had an amazing transcript. I applied to pretty much every scholarship I could. I got a lot of them as well. I was accepted to MIT with the majority of my tuition covered. I was feeling great.
I knew that no financial support was coming from mom. This had always been understood. The summer after high school was all about working. I had a paid internship with a software developer, I had a job waiting tables at night, landscaping Saturdays and Sundays. I felt confident that I would put away enough money along with having a part-time job during the year.
Freshman year was eye-opening. The course load was brutal. I was struggling hard. I could not keep up my grades. I dropped the part-time job to focus on my studies. This worked. I maintained my required GPA. Scholarships retained. I also completely wiped out my bank account. That was the money I had planned to use over 4 years. Gone.
I had decided to stay in Cambridge that summer. I had a great internship lined up. My friend, Derek, and I had arrangements to move into a shared apartment for the following year. We had a sublet for the summer. And I had also been smacked in the head by love. For the first time in my life, I was in love.
My birthday was two days before the end of the semester. I was basically done. I had one assignment left to submit but it was completed. A group got together to have some drinks and celebrate the semester and my birthday. Drinking some beer and hanging out along the Charles River and just having a great time. A party was happening that night. A girlfriend of a friend of a friend showed up at the river with her friends. Sure, I went to a technology school that was mostly guys, but it was not like I had lived a monastic life for the past year. Random college hookups happened but nothing serious. However, girls at a college party are always an attraction. I was feeling good and had always been outgoing. I chatted with the girls, light flirting. They suggested a different party so a friend and I decided to go with them, bailing on the previously planned party. We decided to walk with the girls to the party but they needed to stop and meet their roommate.