My Sexual Odyssey Part V: A Real Whore - Sex Stories

My Sexual Odyssey Part V: A Real Whore

... if he could call me if he comes to town again. I assured him he could, and gave him my telephone number. With that, I exited the hotel room, and returned to the world of ordinary life, as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. I drove the rest of my way home pleased with myself. I just whored myself out and I love it. On my way home I felt odd. I realized that I didn’t even know his name. I was flushed with expended lust, sexually depleted, yet somewhat excited at the anticipation of possibly doing it again, despite wanting to shower and change immediately. I went home feeling spent, but satisfied. I entered my apartment, and as I looked in the mirror, I told myself that I was in fact a real whore, a prostitute, and just as you cannot unscramble an egg, although I could stop, I could never undo what I had done: I had turned a trick. I went into the living room and sat down. I realized that I had felt a curious kind of relief. The sky hadn’t fallen, and the earth didn’t open up. I was still me. The change was really only conceptual, in that I hand’t really altered anything about myself. For one thing, the sex I had with Brad in the truck was more sleazy and sordid than having sex with my first “trick” or client in an upscale hotel; for another, who decided that exchanging sex for money is somehow worse than having a one-night stand for free? Besides, I would have let him fuck me anyway, so what’s the big deal? I took a long bath, then showered off, realized it was late, and went to bed nude, as always. The next morning, I awoke and thought about the previous evenings activities. No, I had no regrets. In fact, it had been fun.