I had never done anything like this before and honestly I didn’t know why I had decided to do it tonight? I guess there is a first time for everything. At least that’s what I said to myself as I slipped on my shoes, pocketed the two five dollar bills that I had grabbed from the grocery money stashed in the can over the refrigerator, slipped on the over sized hoodie that my ex had forgot to pack on the day that I put him out, grabbed my keys, and slide out the back door. I tip toed down the stairs like a cat burglar creeping onto someones fire escape, quietly trying o make my get away with out waking the my unsuspecting neighbors.
Honestly though, it was my neighbors fault that I was even up. There sexcapades had kept me awake way into the early morning hours, as I listened to the female counter part of the beautiful male in apartment number 5, whom I had watched on more than one occasion with lustful eyes as he took out the trash, scream and moan (loudly I might add) in sexual ecstasy. I had only lived next door to them for three days and this was the first time that I had been privy to their sex life, as satisfying as it sounded, and I had to admit I was a tad bit jealous as I laid alone in my bed. He sounded like a phenomenal lover, and my jealousy stemmed primarily from the fact that I couldn’t watch, but not merely because of the fact that it wasn’t I that was engaging in such acts.
Still I must admit that a part of me did imagine that it was I laying in my hunky neighbors bed, moaning euphorically in sexual bliss. For I could only imagine the types of things that he was doing to his equally attractive miss, and a part of me really just wanted to know if my vivid imagination was truly on point. But as their love making coursed on through the night it became infuriating to listen to them, and by the time that they had finally climaxed for the fourth time in one night and drifted softly off to sleep, I was left horny and unsatisfied by the fifth ill fated attempt by my roaming right hand to please the monster called longing in my loins. So here I was walking the street in the that hour between late and early looking for what some would call a date, simply because my harmons had over taken me.
I felt a tad bit ashamed, but there was an air of xhilleration coursing through my veins. Though couldn't believe that I was about to make such a transaction as to pay for sex. I also felt confident in my new found inhibition. I had never done anything like this before, yes. But A part of me had always wondered what it might be like. Out loud and in mixed company I condemned men who did such deplorable thing, but secretly I had always wanted to know what it was like to do it myself. Pay for sex, or get paid for sex. I wondered what the fascination with prostitution was. Maybe it was the mixture of danger and civil dis-obedience that caused someone to step so recklessly out of the box? Or perhaps it was the lack of regular sexual release, or an over abundance of sexual energy? Or perhaps just a boring sex life at home? I didn’t know, honestly I didn’t care. My reasons were my own.
Three months of sexual frustration had bubbled over, and now I was tired of waiting for the right partner to come along. I needed some full body contact, against a hard body. My abundant porn collection could only do so much and I had stretched the fibers of my imagination far beyond its boundaries, and the kink in my wrist had started to irritate me. I needed, no, I wanted some help. And as I crossed the street to the whore stroll I said my silent prayer, hoping that my God would protect me and forgive me for my sin…
To Be Continued
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