I will admit it, I prostituted myself. But who doesn’t? I’m not ashamed to admit it anymore, I feel I provided a specialized service that made a lot of women happy. It may have only lasted a few hours but I gave those women a level of satisfaction that they weren’t getting from their spouses or boyfriends. You know the old saying…If they were getting it at home, then they wouldn’t be coming to me.
I think I was pretty young when I first got into this business of servicing women’s needs, I think the first time I did it for money I was probably sixteen. When I look back at my early days, I know I was just a money hungry kid, I would do anything the women wanted as long as they paid me for it. I don’t remember being too worried if anyone found out about my activities, I had no shame. I can even recall a time when I was in the lunch room at my school and a friend of mine told me that Mrs. Arnold, our social studies teacher would be willing to pay some serious money for a little time with me…no questions asked. I was a little nervous, but I was driven by the thought of a big payday, so how could I say no?
I remember my first real trick after I got out of high school, the moment still seems pretty fresh in my mind. Her name was Mrs. Ellen Dodson, she was around 45 years old and she had a body that could have easily passed for a 43 year old. If I remember correctly her husband was some type of Doctor, and they owned a fairly large six bedroom house in a really nice neighborhood, that house had everything in it except the attention she so desperately craved. I remember the first time I went to see her, I came over on a Tuesday morning, her kids were in school. She led me into the living room, my palms were sweaty, my heart beating like a drum. I think she knew I was still pretty inexperienced at this game, but she played it pretty cool. She laid a hundred dollar bill on the coffee table, she then sat down in the lazy-boy and told me exactly what she wanted.
“I want you to vacuum the floor first,” she said.
Her voice was a raspy, smoker’s voice…It sort of reminded me of a cross between Courtney Love and an air compressor, it was at that point I knew she would get everything she wanted. I was just worried about being able to satisfy her needs. I had vacuumed many a carpet in my time, but nothing like the rug she had going on, it was a thick, heavy shag. I thought if I wasn’t careful I might screw up and look stupid in front of her…there was so much pressure to preform correctly.
I did my best to come across like I knew what I was doing, but I was so nervous. I hadn’t vacuumed with someone watching me before. The bag on the vacuum started to get pretty full, so I tried compacting it the best I could to get some more life out of it, I saw her wince when I did this and she let me know that there were more bags if I needed them. Dammit I looked like a rookie for sure.
But then she said “I like the way you vacuum” in her raspy voice, she adjusted herself in her seat, almost like she was squirming with pleasure. This renewed me, I was feeling more confident now, so I kicked it into high gear, I started lifting furniture with one hand and effortlessly vacuuming with the other, as I walked past her she grabbed my arm and said “go slower sweetie,” then she got up and guided me along at her slow, steady pace until I got the hang of it. From there, I say instinct took over.
After I had finished vacuuming the living room, I emptied out the vacuum bag and replaced it with a fresh one. I took the old bag out to the trash can and when I returned, I saw I had some dirt on my shoe so I grabbed some paper towel and wiped it off. She noticed me do this, I think she liked my attention to detail.
Then she told me that her husband never vacuums the floor, she told me he never really bothers to help out around the house. Then she asked me to take the kitchen garbage out for her, she told me where the bags were and then she went to check out the window as if to see if there was a peeping Tom. As I came back from taking the garbage out, she wouldn’t make eye contact with me, and it looked like she was beginning to cry “I just need someone in my life that would think about me every now and again” she said in a low rasp.
I put a new liner in the kitchen trash can and I said “Of course you do Mrs. Dodson, you deserve that” She looked me straight in the eye with unmistakable desire and for a few seconds I thought she might ask me to gently scrub the pans in the sink, but just then the doorbell rang, that’s when she handed me an extra twenty and shoved me out the back door.
After that day I had more women than I could handle. I would just walk around in the malls, grocery stores, JC Penny’s…Just looking for potential clients. Whenever I saw a women in her late-thirties to early forties, married for over ten years, maybe a few pudgy kids in tow, never wearing enough makeup to hide the wear and tear of a thousand thankless household chores and husbands who never lifted a finger to help them out….These were my women, I could satisfy these women with very little effort, it was almost too easy.
I always considered myself a pretty squared away guy, but I never imagined my attention to detail and my ability to get down and dirty when needed, would ever pay off the way it did. There were a lot of the women who wanted me to clean their bathrooms and when I would get on my hands and knees and scrub in-between the tiles with my special little brush, it seemed to drive them crazy. I have made more than one grown woman squeal with utter joy by just dusting underneath their curios. And if there are any guys out there reading this let me give you some free advice. Just take the time to learn your way around those vacuum attachments and I promise you’ll never have to go to marriage counseling again.
You might think a guy like me might end up in a few rough situations with angry husbands or boyfriends, but it has been fairly easy for me to operate below the radar. I think the husbands just see what they want to see. They will come home at the end of the day and maybe they will notice that the kitchen had been cleaned top to bottom, but they just assume their wives did it during their leisure time. I can remember a time when I accidentally left an old t-shirt of mine at Janice Stien’s house, I used it to clean the silverware…apparently her husband found it, but she was able to convince him that she found it in the front yard and she used it as a rag.
But once in a while when you play this game you are going to get caught. I once was changing the linen in Debbie Wilson’s bedroom when her new husband walked in. There was no covering this mess up, the sheets were off the bed still, the pillow cases on the floor and it looked as if I was cleaning up from a night of reckless passion. I just stood there, not knowing what to say, while he stared at me with that look of shock and betrayal. He finally blurted out…”I was going to do this over the weekend” next thing you know he is throwing his shoes at me and screaming at his wife “Why?” so I got out of there as quickly as I could, good thing I always ask for my money upfront.
Now if you asked me if I would ever go back to that lifestyle, I don’t think I could. It really is for the young men to do, the stamina required to satisfy so many women really takes a toll on you, besides after a while the women start to take you for granted. I will never forget the day I cleaned all the windows at Beth McGregors house, they were so damn disgusting. I don’t think Beth could tell night from day while looking out here windows. I scrubbed and polished all day on those windows and when Beth finally came home the only thing she said was “Why did you leave my curtains open?”
If I wasn’t being paid to put up with that kind of crap there is no way I could have handled it for as long as I did.