Faking not whoring or 'why I hate the smell of baby oil'.
First time posting.. hello there b3ta'ers!

(Just finished writing this... really didn't intend on it being so long but it's something I don't really talk about with anyone, so writing it has turned out to be quite a cathartic experience.)

Quite a few years ago, stuck in a foreign country with an icebound winter bearing down on me, a rapid dwindling of easily found summer jobs along with my pre-school grasp of the language and a ridiculous sense of pride that meant I couldn't just give up and go home.. all this colluded in a very misguided reasoning that yes, a job as a masseuse would be just the ticket. Yes, one of those masseuses, the happy finish kind. Having funded the last year of university with a clean and homely spot of phone sex I had sufficiently disengaged myself enough emotionally from a part of my sexual self that I thought this would be a piece of cake, and hey, hardly anyone knew me in this part of the world so how bad could it be?

So began a thankfully quite brief few months of concocting a far fetched tale of dodgy telemarketing that covered my odd hours and sudden handfuls of cash. My co-workers were a motley crew of (mainly very decent) eastern european ladies ranging from earthy babushka aunty types who would hug me to their ginormous bosom's while forcefeeding me home made pastries and admiring my amazing National Enquirer crossword completing skills (yay!) and evil money grasping alien insect with badly peroxided hair who would lecture endlessly on the necessities of fat, gross sugar daddies and the utter pointlessness of a self supporting career outside of the sex trade (boo!).. and we shall call her Tatiana, for that was her name, more on her later. The general code of conduct amongst the girls there was to give a bloody good massage first and round it off with whatever you are comfortable with but NO SEX, oral or penetrative because if one girl did then we all would have to, and this was no common whore house but a respectable rub-n-tug joint.

All was as well as it could be for a while, most of our customers were regular visitors, fairly decent and just after a bit of warmth, human contact and physical release. Cups of tea and laughs could be shared, much crappy day time tv was watched and I will be honest in saying one or two customers I actually looked forward to seeing. An elderly jamaican gentleman, well mannered, brilliant to speak to with wise observations, wickedly funny tales and hung like a damn horse always brightened my day. The dirty gross ones I pushed from my mind and if things got out of hand a baton wielding babushka was just outside the unlocked door. As time went on however, we all started to notice that Tatiana was getting the majority of trade, and the trade we were left with was getting quite aggressive and demanding of services that we were not prepared to offer. Something was starting to stink more than a sticky bottle of cheap baby oil.

Rather unsurprisingly the evil peroxided insect had gotten greedy and upped her game to well, being on the game. And not actually just complying with any old request but pretty much demanding more money from regulars while holding her razor-blade lined lady bits to their throats (probably). One guy she did this to did not appreciate this tactic and shopped our establishment to the cops.

By this point I had fortunately realised that the sex trade was not for me, nor was that shitty town, and I had pretty much saved enough cash to greyhound it out of there so was close to quitting. Still on the rota but a tendency to waltz in two or three hours late - hey, what's the point of being on time if everyone wants Tatiana or pussy, which i wasn't giving out anyways. One afternoon I tardily wandered in to find the normally quadruple locked door wide open, the place empty and turned completely upside down. I went to the friendly IT company next door to ask what had happened and they said I had just missed a whole load of police bashing down the door and taking everyone away for illegal prostitution, and I'd better get the hell away and not look backwards, advice I duly took.

Crapping my pants I took that as the perfect opportunity to visit friends very, very far away. Beautiful, kind friends who I would never, ever want to know of the true corruption that lurked in my belly. Thing is, I'm not a great lier, and I was a bit shellshocked at the unfolding of events, and I still blush to think of the ridiculous tales I concocted to explain my sudden arrival, what I had been doing the past few months and generally acting like a bit of a cracker. The fall out of justifying my actions to myself resulted in some pretty stupid delusions, like sex is just an act and it doesn't matter, so ended up acting like even more of a crazy slapper and hating myself even more, and worst of all I hurt a person that I loved dearly. Ah, young and dumb with a handful of cum!! (Sorry, couldn't help myself..).

So ashamed I was of my dalliance with the sex trade that I never openly admitted it to anyone, just quietly obsessing about what a worthless slut I was. Until eventually I met a man I thought I had finally fallen in love with, and who loved me. This secret lay throbbing and festering just behind my tongue, and I misguidedly thought that if we loved each other, honesty was the best policy and I should tell him of my dark and seedy past. I did, and holy shit did he freak out! There was much wailing and gnashing of teeth and cries of 'How could you!!?"! So hysterical was he that I actually started to find it all quite comical, sitting next to him rubbing his shaking shoulders as I tried to explain it was just a few friendly hand-shandies, not strangling kittens.

Because it was just a few handjobs. And I forgave myself and got over it. He didn't but he was a boring old geezer anyways.

Now I am older, wiser and in a great relationship and supporting myself well in a career that I love and am good at. My beautiful friends are still my beautiful friends and sexual intimacy finally occupies it's rightful place in my life, shared sweetly between me and my wonderful man. I finally like who I am now, and realise that the stupid shit you have done in your past is simply that, stupid shit. Learn, laugh and move on.

Length? Still nowhere near that of the elderly Jamaican gentleman.
(AmiBambini, Tue 15 Jul 2008, 13:09, closed)

Nicely written.
Gets my *click*

EDIT: out of interest, did you develop amazing muscles on one arm? Or try and alternate them?
(The Empress it seems you CAN polish a turd!, Tue 15 Jul 2008, 13:18, closed)

*just a few handjobs"
Very rarely get to see that written down.

*clicks*
( althegeordie is a bully and a cocksucker, Tue 15 Jul 2008, 13:20, closed)

And
A click from me. One, for the sheer honesty of it and two because it was well written.

Now write more you two-bit, hand-shandy, whore!

Talent should always be encouraged.

Cheers
(Legless Fuck Victoria's Secret, Tue 15 Jul 2008, 13:29, closed)

What you did is called survival.
We women are very good at it.
( big-girl's-blouse has the kind of breasts that will get her banned, Tue 15 Jul 2008, 14:05, closed)

So, about these massages...
how much?
:)
(Freddles, Tue 15 Jul 2008, 14:05, closed)

Jamaican?
No, he was paying for it.




sorry

*click*
( Madam Marlboro : bringing sexy back. YEAH., Tue 15 Jul 2008, 15:29, closed)

*click*
Welcome to B3TA and kudos for such an honest, well-told story.

Ed.
(Eds Meds Mathskillz=1,Socialskillz=0, Tue 15 Jul 2008, 16:52, closed)

Thankyou!!
Cheers very much for the lovely comments and clicks!

EmpressBobFossil - I seem to recall my arms toning up in general from the massages, and my arse expanding quite impressively due to the previously mentioned daytime tv and pastry diet. No wank arm though, sorry.
Legless - Thankyou, will do, and in the time I have been lurking here I have definitely enjoyed your tales too.

Big love from the two-bit hand-shandy whore! x
(AmiBambini, Tue 15 Jul 2008, 23:15, closed)

Thankyou for sharing that with us
Welcome to QOTW. We all have a past, and it feels good to share.
( mistaspakkaman - think of it as an extended vacation!, Wed 16 Jul 2008, 23:20, closed)