Prostitution and the Art of Marketing.

David had spent nearly £8,000 pounds on prostitutes in the last two weeks.

That figure of £8,000 came from one of the drivers, our agency manager released financial information from her ledgers very sparingly, and only when it suited her.

In some ways David was following a certain format. He had never used prostitutes before, and then one night a friend had shown off his 'date' to David. She'd quite astutely taken the time to do a little prospecting, and was now entitled to a small % of everything he spent. Without having to give him so much as a handjob.

I don't think David actually liked the company of Women. I don't mean that in a sinister way, I think he just wasn't entirely comfortable interacting with women in anything but a most sense, i.e fucking us. I know he was a divorcee, a happy one I think. He was moderately successful, had a nice home, he didn't have expensive tastes and I suspected we were his biggest outgoing.

Up until now he'd never asked for long bookings, and as that was where we tended to make most of our money it was a bit of an issue. Typically short bookings are a pain, depending on the client you can end up doing 4 hours of sex crammed into an hour.

Sometime clients did it because they were cheap. The management usually dumped those. David was different, because he did it just because he didn't want us around when he wasn't fucking us.

The management liked David because he was flexible, if one of the girls had a few hours in between clients, the agency would text and see if he wanted a her for an hour. He was unusual in that he never asked for a specific woman, just made a booking.

The first time I did an outcall with him, the manager rang me as the driver had just picked me up from my third and what I was expecting would be my final client of the night.

I did have to take the booking that was the rules. So I couldn't understand why the manager was being so nice to me on the phone. It turned out he wanted anal and we weren't expected to provide anal sex for a client until we'd had a few bookings with him.

I was in my managers dirty books, and I'd already had anal sex twice that night, so I just said yes thinking I'd get a favor from her later. She made me promise I'd actually let him fuck me anally, because I had a reputation for talking men out of anal without actually saying no.

I think abrupt was the best way of describing David. He was polite, perhaps more so to the driver than me. He had a large house with a reception so he invited the driver to wait inside.

Men like to talk about their homes and their cars, I tried both and David just looked at me uncomprehendingly.

If there's a way to tell a woman to strip off and get on her knees without seeming rude, David managed it. What followed suited us both I suppose. I gave him a blowjob for a few minutes, my success at it being for him to tell me to get on my hands and knees so he could fuck me doggy style. He put the condom on without any problem which definitely made him one of the better clients. A few minutes of vaginal fucking and he pulled out, and showed his only real kink, by ejaculating into my knickers.

He had me stay on my hands and knees and stood over me, for a few silent minutes, still rubbing his crotch with my knickers. He didn't actually ask for anal sex, but then I suppose it had been agreed before hand. He took a jar of lube from a drawer which I suppose was indication enough.

While he fingered my bum, and applied I could hear him rubbing himself with my knickers. As I was facing the wall it was more of an audio experience, I eventually hear him open the wrapper on another condom.

The anal actually wasn't too bad, usually even with regulars I have to exercise quite a bit of control. The only awkward bit was when after working him in most of the way, I moved forward on my hands and knees, the idea being to prompt him to being thrusting in and out. It was a technique I'd developed to stop guys putting their cocks in all the way and usually it worked.

“all the way” wasn't I suppose a full sentence, but it was clear enough. I moved back and allowed him to push slowly in the rest of the way, until his pubic area was resting against my arse.

The sex itself was pretty slow, he slowly moved in and out of me, I could feel him taking the time to check the condom. After a few moments, he pulled out of me, I heard the condom come off and him begin to wank himself with my knickers.

After a few minutes I heard him put his trousers back on, he was fully dressed, before he told me I could stand up and get a shower. It had taken just over half an hour, and that was that.

He asked me if I wanted some money for the knickers, which he obviously intended keeping, I certainly didn't want them back. It was a common request from men, and I tended not to become invested either financially or emotionally in my underwear.

I next met David a week later at one of the apartments we were using for incalls. In calls are something of a legal difficulty in the UK. Strictly speaking there can't be any more than one woman working at a time at any address. I personally didn't like doing them, largely because I could end up spending the entire day in the apartment and only see one or two clients.

That Saturday I wasn't even strictly working. I'd fallen out with the manager yet again, and she'd decided to fuck me around by forcing me to spend all of Saturday in the apartment introducing myself to clients.

My role was meant to be limited to greeting the clients at the door, in my underwear of course walking them into the lounge, serving them booze, smiling sweetly and being as entertaining as possible until the girl they'd booked was available.

The idea was that I'd introduce myself to other clients and hopefully get my own bookings. In practice it was a source of aggravation as other girls were very protective of their regulars. Sometime a guy would change his mind or wouldn't want to wait and just ask for me, or he'd decided spur of the moment he wanted a threesome. Generally though it was just milling about the apartment.

I didn't know David was coming, when he turned up I think because he hadn't specified a girl he just assumed his booking was with me. The first problem was that there wasn't any place to put him. There was a client in the master bed room, and another in the lounge. Clients can never mix! It was a rule our manager had based on her own experiences.

With there being no where else to bring him I brought him into the office. It was actually more a locker room than office, as all the agency administration was done at a different apartment. I'd actually been trying to study in there in between clients and my books were laid across the table. He sat down and felt free to peruse the books without asking. He asked for a drink and I hated away to fix one for him.

When I got back drink in hands, He said abruptly “I like Politics”, without expanding further.

Now don't think for a moment that what I was studying (I won't say what) had anything to do with Politics or even the humanities. I still don't understand how he jumped to politics, from simply looking at my course materials.

Still though I realised that now I was meant to provide a conversation about politics. Which I made a fairly good attempt at. Recently a boyfriend had brought me to see his political hero Tony Benn give a lecture. So I spoke about Tony Benn.

David hated Tony Benn with a Passion, and proceeded to lecture me angrily about how he'd ruined the UK economy in the 70's. I didn't particularly care, and my first instinct was to just agree to everything David was say, however I reconsidered and started to provide an argument, or rather a pastiche of one. I implied that I was a fervent socialist, and that Tony Benn was the greatest prime minister we never had. My arguments were basic enough that David was able to assert himself while at the same time I gave an impression of challenging him.

Eventually the woman who'd David booked, came available but David shooed her away, which she wasn't particularly bothered about as she obviously wasn't that enamored of him.

The Doorman came in after a while to ask whether David wanted to put me on the clock instead. I was pleased enough when he agreed and while he headed off to pay the Doorman, I headed into the now vacant bedroom to get ready.

As I was getting ready the Doorman popped his head in to say that David had booked me for the next 4 hours, and that he was going to be rescheduling clients, and sending them to another apartment.

I wondered initially what I was meant to do with him for the next four hours. When arrive in the bedroom, the first thing he asked is if I realised now that I was wrong about Tony Benn.

I said No of course.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/3i73qi/prostitution_and_the_art_of_marketing