I Was A Thirty Four Year Old Virgin

I was a thirty four year old virgin when I first visited a prostitute.

I've always been shy and a bit of a computer geek, and somehow I missed out on opportunities at college and university that might have got my sex life off to a start. Once I graduated I ended up in an IT job, full of other single male geeks. None of us had much in the way of a social life, but I was furthering my career so it didn't seem to matter much. It was only when I hit thirty that I started to worry about the other things missing from my life. At that point, my age and lack of experience were a major worry. I was tempted by online dating, but knew that anyone I might meet would be more sexually experienced than me, and this became a major stumbling block.

At one point, I seriously considered sexual surrogate therapy, but in the end the price put me off. It did, however, make me start thinking about paying for sex, but at a different level. Websites and forums are what I do, and mostly how I interact with other people, so it didn't take me long to find forums devoted to escort work. I researched diligently, read up on the pros and cons, and the dangers, health and otherwise, of seeing escorts. The forums were an eye opener. The escorts posting sounded genuine, even relatively normal, and not the junkies I'd expected. I made up my mind to go for it.

It was still nearly a year before my first experience. I finally selected a woman in a town miles from home, about ten years older than me. I chose a more mature woman, as I felt it would be easier, somehow, to confess my inexperience to her than it would be to a younger girl. The experience itself was mixed. My performance was as you might expect from a first timer, but she was sympathetic and understanding. She didn't clock watch, and I enjoyed her company as much as the sexual activity. I left with a feeling of relief that I'd got it over with, that I was no longer a virgin.

After that, I found other girls local to me. I've had some fantastic experiences and none of the girls have fitted the media mould, here in the UK at least, of trafficked Eastern Europeans or drug addicts. There was the single mum of 19, who was saving to put herself through a college course to get a professional qualification (and she did, successfully, and gave up the escorting to take a less well paid job in her chosen field). There was the recent graduate, making some extra cash while deciding what career path to take. There was the swinger, who had decided that if she was going to do it anyway, she might as well get paid for it. There have been several students, who will leave college without the debt that weighs down their peers.

Overall, more of the experiences have been good than bad. I accept that I'm working at the middle to upper end of the market, but most of the girls I've seen have been intelligent and good company and I put that down to the amount of effort I put in to selection. I'm generally very careful in who I choose, and the less successful experiences have always come when I let myself make a rushed decision.

My plan was for it to be a short term fix, a start towards a normal life and a way of catching up with experiences I should have had ten years ago. It's worked so well, that it's becoming a lifestyle choice. I think I prefer it this way.

I'm a Young Black Guy

I'm a young black guy with a thing for older voluptuous white women. Prostitution has helped me realize my fantasy. My most memorable experience was with a single mother. We set a date at a hotel. She got some candles, started with a massage and we started having a nice conversation. Her body type was prefect for me: slightly saggy big breasts, round belly and nice ass. We got a great time together. 5 minutes after fucking, she started telling me funny stories about her son, the apple of her eye. We talked about normal stuff, like old acquaintances who had already met each other. I'm still struck by how giving she was by telling me about her son. Maybe she felt like I needed a little more confidence, she even gave me some nice compliments. Those lasted more than 1 hour.

I keep thinking of how nice it would be to keep my head buried in her chest, for protection. To only leave it unless absolutely necessary.

I have not tried that hard to explain my preference for larger white women to myself. Maybe I'm afraid it's based on this horrible stereotype of white women that I'm not even aware of. Maybe I'm afraid to put black women in perspective in this too. It's hard enough to talk about sex without putting race in it. As for my age preference: maybe I'm looking for a mother-son relationship.