by Christopher P. Mooney
Location: London’s Chinatown
Duration: 1 hour
Premises: Nice room; clean, warm, comfortable. Shower available. No parking restrictions.
I arrived bang on time, as I always do, because if I’m paying for an hour I don’t see the point in wasting a minute. Tanya’s walk-up had a note by the entrance: Model. 5’2”. Young. White. Slim. The first thing to say, that I noticed as soon as she’d opened the door, is she doesn’t quite match the photos on the agency’s website. For example, the bio said 24; which she would have been at some point. I didn’t say nothing because I wanted to avoid an awkward start to the date.
This guy was a fucking pig. He arrived almost ten minutes late. While we were sorting the paperwork, he made a snide remark about my age. He hadn’t even bothered to say hello. The only saving grace at that point was he gave me the money up front with no fuss.
I was looking for a GFE and she’d agreed to this during our initial email contact — and did DFK, with plenty of tongues — but wasn’t up for cuddling or chatting or anything of that sort. I even had to undress myself. Tanya insisted on OWC. Seriously, how many women make their boyfriends put on a rubber before giving them a BJ?
I don’t mind the deep French kissing, but suck a stranger’s cock without a condom? No fucking way! I know what I do for a living, and I know how some people view that, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a brain in my head. It’s still my body. Clients only rent it. I have to live with it, always.
She tried to placate me by asking if I wanted to DATY — you know, RO — but I told her where to go. I ain’t putting the lips I kiss my kids with near no WG’s vagina; not for all the tea in China.
I asked if he wanted to eat me out instead because, believe it or not, most of the guys I see don’t hesitate when it comes to reverse oral. (I’ve heard them refer to it as “Dining at the Y”.) But he said, and I quote, he “wouldn’t never kiss no working girl’s cunt.”
I didn’t come when she was sucking me off so we went straight into SWO (Mish only!). It was fine, I guess, but it just seemed her heart wasn’t in it. Very disappointing. I don’t understand how you can be so obviously cold and mechanical with the men who pay your wages and expect to be in this game long term.
I did allow him to penetrate me, to ejaculate inside me, without a condom. I always do. I take other precautions beforehand and have a standing appointment to get checked every two weeks, so I have no problem giving them that much …
I certainly know what I’m doing. She had a good time with me and I think she even came a couple of times.
… but he was useless, with no technique. No doubt he picked up what he thinks he knows from porn. His poor wife! The funny thing is, when he’d finished, he asked if I’d come. I said yes, of course, but it couldn’t have been further from the truth. Any punter who thinks he can turn on a working girl is kidding himself.
Look, I’m not saying she went out her way to deliberately con me or nothing like that, but I did leave feeling dissatisfied. I’ve done this countless times over the years, with countless women, but none worse than her. VFM? Don’t make me laugh. Overall, a very poor punt.
He got value for money and I got my money. I see about six men a day, six days a week, and that week, for sure, he was the worst of the lot.
At various times in his life, Glaswegian Christopher P. Mooney has been a paperboy, a supermarket cashier, a shelf stacker, a barman, a cinema usher, a carpet-fitter’s labourer and a foreign-language assistant. He is now a professional high-school teacher of French and English and an amateur writer of crime fiction, horror fiction, adult fiction and eclectic poetry. His stories and poems have been published by Crooked Holster, Dead Guns Press, Devolution Z, Revolution John, Out of the Gutter, Yellow Mama, Horror-Sleaze Trash, Romance Magazine, Open Pen and The Molotov Cocktail. He lives and writes in a small house near London. You can find him online as @ChrisPatMooney.