Subsequently, I started caressing myself during virtual sex to get the right attitude and satisfy the client with more than enough to stimulate his lust. This approach led to the fact that some of the men became my permanent sponsors. But even that did not seem to be enough. The truth is that it took a lot of time for beautiful pictures and intimate correspondence, and I had to postpone, as I thought for a while, my offline meetings. My boyfriend suffered from this most of all. We had much less sex, because I often cum with clients, and it seemed too tiring to interrupt work, cram Harry’s schedule between classes and extracurriculars, and go out for sex.
For me and the men on the site, everything began and ended online, without real meetings or sex. Although there were many offers and they started at a few hundred a night. I hope you understood what I had to give them for that. The money was not bad, my price was like that of an elite prostitute. With all that said, I didn’t want to and, to be honest, I was afraid to go out with clients. But everyone has his price. One day I got an email from a man whose profile said his name was John, he was fifty-four years old, and he was in the trucking business.
He declined my offer of online sex, arguing that he was focused on “real life”, but put forward a counteroffer: to keep him company for an evening for a thousand dollars. For me, this amount was quite large, ten days of work, after all. I dared to write him a message saying that I did not meet for sex for any money. He told me that he wasn’t even offering sex, but that he was paying me the money just to go to a restaurant with him. A thousand just to meet him? Nonsense. But this man was persuasive and offered to video call me to make sure both that he was decent and that he could afford it. After thinking about it for a while, I agreed. On the phone with John, I realized that he had money. How? First of all, by looking at his apartment. The marble floor and fireplace, the antique columns, the gilded chandelier, and so on. Every detail of his home looked insanely expensive. Our conversation with him was fun and relaxed, though I thought I would not be able to relax. We joked and laughed and still made an appointment two days later at the weekend. I only agreed because John made a really good impression on me. And what could be wrong with an ordinary meeting? Especially if you get paid big money for it.
Before the meeting, I put on my makeup. I chose a bright one, even though I had originally planned to look as modest as possible. It was spring and quite cold outside, but this did not stop me from choosing a loose leather skirt above the knee, a blouse, a leather jacket, and heels. In short, I wore the best clothes I had. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I found myself looking like an expensive slut, an image that had previously been disgusting and unacceptable to me. As I admired myself, I bit my lower lip, lifted the edge of my skirt, and looked at the outline of my juicy ass, the halves of which were separated only by thin panties. My phone rang. A familiar name popped up on the screen, which meant it was time to come out.
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