The last two years in college I moonlighted as a call girl. I never intended to. By accident I learned that another girl in the dorm, a year older, was doing it. The money she made seemed like a lot to a poor, struggling student like me.
I was a natural for it. I was female, which truthfully may be the only requirement. But my parents had given me some good genes. Guys were always interested. I was slim but with noticeable boobs and butt, all the curves a female could want. I never thought of myself as a great beauty but I was good looking enough. Dark hair, blue eyes, light skin, even features and a nice chin.
I thought I had another advantage. I loved sex. I hadn't been with that many guys but enough to know that an orgasm was unbelievably great. And I was absolutely obsessed with lovely, erect cocks. As it turned out,liking sex wasn't really needed. Many times, I didn't get great enjoyment but made sure the guy did. That was the reality -- make sure the guy paying for it enjoyed it. It often required good acting talent, lots of faking. Although, having a cock in my mouth and then in my vagina was good even when the rest wasn't.
But sometimes things went great. The deal was, these were all married men on business trips looking for some fun. Every once in a while I'd get a great one, a really good lover. I'd have orgasms all over the place. But mostly, all they wanted was their own satisfaction.
I realized from the beginning that what I was doing was illegal. It wasn't risky at all like it might be in a whore house or working the streets or bars. The lady running the business seemed to always vet every guy and many of my customers were repeats. I went to his hotel room. Always an upper class hotel. I often got tipped, paid more than had been asked for.
I kept it all a secret, obviously. I mean, telling people you're a whore is a turn off. My parents would not have liked it at all. But it never bothered me. I always got some turn on out of it. Besides, if I wasn't doing it for money, I'd be doing it for free. Maybe the guys weren't who I might pick if I was on my own but on the other hand, I'd picked a few that weren't all that good either. You can't always tell ahead of time.
I graduated, got a fairly good job, moved and started over. On my own, being a call girl was over with. At work I met and dated Kyle. We went out several times and started getting fairly involved. I played being a good girl. Lots of heavy petting but no sex. Although I had got to the point I was ready. He invited me to go with him on a weekend to a nice resort hotel.
"A weekend?" I asked.
"Yes." was his reply as he looked at me sort of worried.
"That means sex, doesn't it?"
He really looked worried. "Well, uh, yeah."
I just looked at him a moment. I think he actually sweated. Then I just said, "o.k." and paused, then added, "but once you turn me on watch out."
Well, it was a fantastic weekend. The very best sex of my life. He ate me. He ate me like he loved it and had been dreaming of it forever. At least a dozen times over the weekend he would get his mouth to my pussy. There isn't a girl alive that wouldn't love that. We also fucked a lot. He had, still has, a really great cock. Fills me up. I sucked him a lot, too, but only once until he came and I swallowed. The other times it was to get him up again so we could fuck.
For a girl that always made sure the guy used a condom all through college, I made a big mistake. I got pregnant. We got married. We're still married and now there are three children but there will be no more. We agree, three is enough. Now, with the pill, we can control that. In fact, it's a very good marriage. I think we really love each other as much as most anyone could. We get along very well. The sex is still great. I'm still a good enough actor that even if it isn't quite as good as some times, I make sure he thinks it is. I haven't worked since our first, a boy, Lewis, was born but now, twelve years later, our youngest is starting school and I'm going to have a lot of time on my hands. I've talked with Kyle about me working, part time most likely. Although I don't really need to, he makes very good money.
Then I'm at lunch in a nicer restaurant than normal with two other mothers of kids in the same school as mine. I recognize a woman across the room. I have to look back several times but become sure that it's Darla. Darla is the girl ahead of me in college that was a call girl and got me into it. I haven't seen her in , well, it must be twelve years. She still looks sleek and classy like always. I also realize that she's seen me and we stare at each other. She's with a very handsome, older man.
Anyway, she's done before we are and comes by our table. "Nancy, is that you?" she asks. I agree and confirm that she's Darla. She says she doesn't want to interrupt but would love to talk with me and gives me a business card. My mind is remembering all sorts of things but I take her card and get back to my friends, letting them know that we had been at college together.