I've been reading the stories on this site for a few years and I thought I'd share an experience that happened this summer. I hope you enjoy it.
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I'm 24 years old. I have brown hair, brown eyes, full lips, and 34c breasts, and I'm 5 feet four inches tall. I've put on a bit of weight since high school, but i still get looks when I dress up, or even when I'm just doing groceries or walking outside.
Early this year my husband lost his job. He works in the high tech industry and we had moved into a very nice condo outside of our city. Because of the economic situation, it was very hard for him to find work in his field. After a few months money was very tight and the unpleasant prospect of losing our new home was becoming a reality. My husband took the loss of his job very badly, and he spent a great deal of time in a bathrobe, watching daytime tv, and drinking.
I knew we needed money. I couldn't ask my parents for help, as they lived far away and had very little of their own. My husband had no contact with his own family, since he had married me and his parents considered me trash. I grew up in a trailer park in Oregon and I barely graduated high school. Although I've tried to rise above my past, I know Ken's parents wanted him to marry someone in their own social class.
As things got tighter and tighter, Ken simply sat in front of the tv, watching Jerry Springer and Jenny Jones and usually passing out before dinner. I won't lie and say I didn't think of selling myself. I didn't know any other way of making the kind of money we'd need to keep our home.
One day I decided to take the plunge. I would take a bus into town and go to one of the hotels in the city. I watched a little tv with Ken and observed the cans of beer piling up on the coffee table. Before six his eyes were closing and I knew he'd soon pass out. I lay Ken out on the couch, brought him a pillow and a blanket, and when I heard his snoring I went into our bedroom and changed.
I put on a red lace bra and panty set, black stockings, and a short black skirt. On top I wore a white camisole and a red blouse. I went to the bathroom and applied my make-up.
Before leaving the house I decided I'd take a cab. It would cost me almost 40 dollars to get into town in a cab, money we didn't have. I knew that if I spent that money I'd have to make some, and I decided it was the best way to garantee I wouldn't chicken out.
I phoned for a cab and went downstairs. The taxi arrived and I gave the cabbie the name of one of the nicer hotels downtown. I still wasn't sure what I was going to do but I hoped the momentum of the situation would mean the details would take care of themselves.
I arrived downtown and walked into the hotel. It was almost 8:30, the sun was setting, and the lobby was crowded with people checking in, sitting on sofas reading, and drinking in the hotel bar. I went to the bar and ordered a white wine, realizing I would have to spend more money for drinks, not to mention the cab ride home. This evening was starting to cost me quite a lot of money.
I looked around the bar. I don't think I'd ever been to a bar alone, and after only a few minutes I could feel many eyes boring into me. Most of the men seated around the bar were much older than me. I guess they were men travelling for business, and as I felt their gazes resting on my face and body I realized that a hotel was the perfect place for what I wanted. Most of these men were far from home, and more than a few probably looked upon a business trip as a good excuse to play.
After a few minutes a middle-aged man moved from his seat to one next to mine. He was probably 50 or maybe a little older. He had grey hair, a bit of a paunch, and a fat face, the result of a lifetime of drinking, I guessed. He also had a gold band around his left ring finger. I had removed mine and left it at home. We struck up a conversation.
He told me his name was Dennis. He asked me if I was from around here and I answered yes. He asked what I was doing in the hotel and I told him I was unwinding after a long day. It was easier than I had imagined to play this little game. I laughed at his stupid jokes, arched my back when he stared at my breasts, and giggled when he made suggestive comments. He offered me another white wine and I accepted. After a while I could feel his shoe rubbing against my calf, and I didn't pull away. A few men were watching and I actually enjoyed the attention. I think it may have been the alcohol, or perhaps just the fact that men were looking at me after months of being ignored by Ken.