Conversations with hookers

The whole area sells sex. That’s what most of the girls say. Most of the conversations I had with them initially were about sex. They were trying to get me to their room. In my young eagerness. I acted on impulse and agreed. Very little conversation. Very little bonding. Very little communicated. To the point where it left me confused on certain rules and regulations. For example how much time I have to bust a nut.

So I left with the girls. to their rooms. To do things I would never tell my mother. The sex itself was empty. Physically all the sensations were there however the fantasy didn’t hold up in my head. The fantasy of sex. Enjoyable sex for both of us. I was reminded by these girls that I was a job to them. A R200. However they changed once they were paid and the deed was done.

The first girl I had sex with told me to hurry up because she was at work. that killed the vibe. And her pussy felt good too. it was tight. Her ass was fat and soft. I told her we should stop. She obliged. I gave her, her money and she changed. She became playful. She pretended to spank me with my belt and started making jokes. Telling me to leave my girlfriend and take her instead. said she was a baby making machine. I believed that. judging from what I saw she knew how to fuck and she knew how to make fucking look good.

Since my whole vibe is vulnerability I let her know this was my first time and that I would normally be scared of her if I saw her in the streets. I then let it slip again that I’m scared of women. She let me know I’m a fool to be scared of women. I’ve never heard someone say it like that. I’ve heard I shouldn’t be scared but hearing I’m a fool to be scared of them got me to start thinking that maybe I was.

Then I spoke to another girl. I liked her sales pitch. “I will make you happy” she said. I was curious about the ways she could make me happy. so I went to her room. she got naked. So did i. and then she started sucking my dick. then she started playing with my balls. I was in love for a second. She got on the bed. Laid on her back and opened her legs. I climbed on top of her. Her pussy felt hot. Warm and wet but because of my mental state, alcohol and condoms it didn’t feel pleasurable. They were moments where it did. But I was too focused on coming to enjoy those light pleasures.

We ended up stopping prematurely. I got dressed. So did she. I told her I liked her. told her I was with another girl earlier but she rushed me and I didn’t like it. she stood infront of the mirror doing her make up. I moved behind her feeling her soft bubble butt. “Can I touch.” I asked. She giggled. I looked at her through the mirror as she was fixing her hair. She was so focused on making sure everything looked perfect. We made eye contact. “You look shap.” I said. She laughed. I laughed too. Then I felt warm. A warm fuzzy feeling in my chest. For the first time since I met her I felt good inside. I felt pleasure.

We walked out and made our way to the elevator. We spoke. I asked her questions about her life. like whether she worked everyday. She said she does. I told her I feel bad for her because it looks tough to be standing in high heels all nights. “All night.” she echoed. “What are you? Zulu, Sotho?” she asked. “Zulu” I replied. “Ooooh I’ve been with a Zulu before they like to fuck.” I smiled. “You?” I asked. “Zim” she replied. “My girlfriends from Zimbabwe.” “Oh, so you like Zimbabweans?” I hadn’t thought of it but yea it turns out I did. “Most Zulu’s like they don’t like foreigners” she said. I started shaking my head. She had a smirk on her face. “So you’re not like them?” I smiled and nodded my head. The elevator opened and we walked out. We headed to the ATM. “You’re my first client tonight” she told me.

I found the atm. I Had to wait for these two guys who were having trouble withdrawing their cash. I told her about it and she took matters into her own hands. she started shouting at them for taking long. She really wanted her money. I just laughed. I find it sexy when girls aggressively fight guys back. I like a girl who’s honest. Whether the honesty is pleasurable or painful. As long as its honest. She was being honest in her actions and I liked it. I gave her the money I owed her and called it a night.

I went home thinking about the physical things that happened. the way she sucked my dick. how her phat ass felt as I pounded it and grabbed it. however the most pleasurable memory I had was the conversation I had when we walked backed. She became human during that conversation. I stopped objectifying her and started humanizing her and surprisingly that made the experience better instead of worse. The minute I saw her as another human being and started connecting with her the same way I connect with other girls the more I started to like her. I started to like her for the whore that she was.

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