Chapter 1: The Beginning

Annie and her husband Ray had been our next door neighbors for five years and she ended up being my best friend. John and Ray never developed that great a bond, but they did get along pretty well and a week didn't go by when we didn't have dinner with Annie and Ray at least once.

Ray had a good paying job so Annie didn't have to work and as a result she was home a lot during the day. John's job was all right, but it didn't pay all that great and money was usually tight around our house, but even so John absolutely refused to let me get a job. That made it so that I ways always home during the day so it was inevitable that Annie and I would spend a lot of time together.

As I said, Annie became my best friend and I had no secrets from her and I would have said that she had none from me. I knew that her sex life with Ray sucked, her term, not mine, and I knew that she had tried hard to heat things up to no avail. I knew that Ray didn't like oral or anal and that his preferred position was 'missionary'. And I knew that as far as Ray was concerned Annie was extremely frustrated sexually. What I did not know was that she was not suffering in silence.

The morning had started out the same as a hundred others with Annie sitting at my kitchen table having coffee with me. Annie mentioned that I seemed to be in a bad mood and that caused me to launch into my two biggest gripes — lack of a decent sex life and the scarcity of money.

"He won't let me work, but he won't give me any spending money either. He needs some new flies or lures so he can go fishing, no problem, but if asked for some cash so I can go to Wal-Mart and get a few things for myself? For get it, can't spare it, budget is too tight this month. He can spare the money for eighteen holes on Saturday and Sunday, but no money for me to get my hair done. Then there is the sex thing."

At that point I stopped and said, "No, we don't need to go there."

"Why not?" Annie asked, "Let it out. It won't do you any good cooped up inside of you."

"Yeah, I guess you are right."

"I know I am."

"You know, I used to think I had it so much better than you because John does everything that Ray won't. John is superb at eating pussy, he likes taking me in my ass and he would do me standing on my head if I'd let him. The problem is that while he will do it all, he hasn't been doing any of it lately. I haven't been laid in almost two months. He is putting in so much time at his job that he is dead tired when he gets home. Night before last I met him at the front door wearing only nylons, high heels and a smile and all he did was kiss my cheek and ask me what was for dinner. When he goes out of town for that seminar next week I am seriously thinking of going bar hopping and finding myself a hunk to fuck my brains out."

"No sweetie, you don't want to do that."

"The hell I don't. Vibrators just aren't cutting it anymore."

"I've got a better idea. Why don't you get a day job where you can set your own hours, make a little money and maybe, just maybe, get yourself laid."

"Oh yeah? And just where would I find a job like that?"

"Go to work for an escort service."

I sat there with a shocked look on my face. Not shocked at the idea itself, but who it came from.

"Oh don't look at me like that. It solves all of your problems and it is a better alternative than what you were thinking of doing. It is a whole lot safer for one thing; all the nut cases would be screened out. You get to set your own schedule and best of all, you get paid for it. I do it so I know you can."

"You do it?"

"Have been for almost two years now."

"You have been doing it for to years and I never knew?"

"Shows you how easy it will be for you to hide it from John. If I could hide it from my best friend you ought to be able to hide it from your husband."

"You really have been doing it for that long?"

"Yep."

"Oh wow. I just can't imagine you being a prostitute."

"I am not a prostitute, I am an escort."

"There is a difference?"

"Of course there is. A prostitute goes with a man for one reason and one reason only; she gives up sex for money. An escort is hired to be a companion and the date could very well end without involving sex at all. Sometimes all a man wants is arm candy for some reason and he won't even be interested in sex. But even if he is you can say no if you aren't interested. It's great."

"Bullshit girlfriend. You are a whore, pure and simple, but that doesn't make you all bad."

Annie's face turned dark, but before she could explode on me I laughed and said:

"I know you are a whore sweetie, because that is how I put myself through school."

"You? Little Miss Goody Two Shoes? You whored your way through college?"

"Of course not sweetie, I was an escort."

The rage left Annie's face and suddenly we were both laughing.

"Tell me about it Annie. I had no idea that you were a slut."

"It came about because I met an old boyfriend. I was shopping at the mall when someone squeezed my ass and I turned around to hit him with my purse and saw that it was Jim Queen. I'd gone steady with Jim for two years until he went into the Navy. He asked me to join him for coffee and I said yes and we started talking about old times. In the middle of asking me whether I had seen this guy or that girl lately he smiled and said:

"You ever find anyone who could eat your pussy as well as I did?"

"I was in just the right mood and I told him how miserable my sex life was. I told him the quantity was fine, but that the quality sucked. He smiled again and told me he cold help.

"My apartment is only five minutes away."

"Long story short, I went back to his apartment with him and spent five hours doing everything that Ray won't do. When Jim was done and I was lying there purring like a kitten he told me he could use a girl like me and I asked him for what. He told me he owned a modeling agency and an escort service. He told me he was always on the look out for foxy ladies and I let him talk me into it.

"I go out on dates during the day when Ray is at work and I'm making about fifteen hundred a week and no, I don't fuck on all my dates. Whether or not they get any depends on how horny I am and how hunky or cute they are. I can put you in touch with Jim if you would like."

"Let me think on it."

I did think about it. I thought about it a lot and as I thought about it I remembered how much I had loved doing it when I was going to school. I was halfway into my freshman year at college when the company that my dad had worked for for twenty-nine years went bankrupt. Suddenly my college fund was the family safety net until my dad could find another job.

To stay in school I had to get me a job and I ended up getting on as a waitress at a bar and grill just off campus. I hadn't been there two weeks when the owner asked me if I was interested in making more money than I was as a waitress. I told him of course I was interested in making more money, but doing what? He told me about his escort service and told me that I could make as much as three hundred a day depending on how many hours I worked. He charged seventy-five dollars an hour and I got half. A six-hour date would net me two hundred and twenty-five dollars and it was all under the table. No taxes, no FICA, no Medicare — I got it all.

"What are we talking here when you say 'date?"

"I'm not running a whore house sweetie. If your date wants to play that is strictly up to you as long as you don't do anything that will bring the law down on me. What you would do is be arm candy for someone who wanted companionship."

"No sex, right?"

"Depends on you. If your date wants to play it will be up to you to negotiate with him, but if you are willing to have sex I do have a list of select clients that want extra attention if you take my meaning. I f you decide to go that route I set the fee and I take a percentage."

"How much?"

"Your cut would be a hundred an hour on top of your half of the seventy five. Say a six-hour date where he takes you to dinner and a cocktail party or whatever. After four hours he wants to go to his place and play and you go and stay two hours. You would get your half of four hours at seventy-five and two hundred on top of that. I got dates during the day and dates at night. It is possible that you could have two or three dates on a day if you were interested."

"No, I've got classes during the day and there will be some nights when I won't be available because I'll need to study or work on term papers."

"No problem. Just tell me when I call and ask if you are available.

Why not I thought. I'd been putting out for two years and all I'd been getting was burgers and fries, a movie now and then and maybe an orgasm if I was lucky. Why not make a buck doing something I liked doing anyway.

"Count me in Mr. DeAngelo."

And so began my career as an escort. It paid my way through college, paid for a pretty nice apartment and a new Mustang convertible. I had just about decided to tuck my brand new degree in Marketing away in a drawer somewhere and keep on being an escort when I met John. I fell ass end over teakettle for him and that put an end to my days as an escort. After a short courtship John and I were married and we set out to build us a life together.

Marriage to John had its upside and its downside. We were both crazy about each other and we both loved sex in all of it's many forms and for the first couple of years all we did was fuck whenever we were given the opportunity. Sex with John was great and he never failed to give me a ton of orgasms. That was the upside.

The downside was that he was old fashioned. His parents were from 'The Old Country' and they instilled in him the characteristics that they had brought with them to this country. Be frugal, save your money, don't worry about yourself, but instead plan for the future of your children. Make sure they go to college and make something of themselves. The wife stays home and anchors the family and the husband supports the family makes the decisions and handles the finances. Having had to fuck my way through college I was more than content to let someone else be in charge, handle the money and relieve me of the responsibility.

John's credo was that "No wife of mine will work as long as I'm able. It is more important that you stay home and take care of the house and family."

Only one problem with that — there wasn't going to be any family for me to take care of. A botched abortion when I was twenty had seen to that. And then, over the last few months our sex life took a nosedive.

So, lack of money and a lagging sex life had me almost considering letting Annie put me in touch with her friend. Almost considering, but the more I thought about it the more I was afraid that things would go wrong and I'd end up screwing up my marriage. The marriage wasn't running all that smooth at the moment, but I did love my husband and I knew that he loved me so I wasn't going to take any chances.

That is I wasn't about to take chances until he came home from work that night. He came into the house carrying a round cardboard tube around four feet long and I asked him what it was. He opened the tube and took out a putter.

"This putter has a head on it about two ounces heavier than my old one. It will give me more control and should improve my putting."

"Just a minute here. Two days ago I told you that I needed a new dress and a new pair of shoes for the class reunion and you told me we couldn't fit it into the budget right now. But you can get a new putter even thought you already have a good one in your golf bag?"

"This isn't a frivolous purchase baby. This will help me improve my game. When I'm at that seminar next week I'll be playing a round or two with some prospective clients. I need to be at my best to show them I'm a serious player if I want to sign them."

"Yeah John, right" and I grabbed up the morning paper from where it had been sitting on the counter, pulled out the want ads and sat down at the table.

"What are you doing?"

"Starting to look for a job."

"Oh no. No wife of mine is going to work. I won't have it said that I can't take care of my family."

"You don't have a family John; what you have is a fed up wife and she is going to work and if you don't like it she can be an ex-wife."

"I forbid it!"

"Forbid and be damned John. I'm getting a job so I'll have my own money to buy dresses or shoes or whatever the hell else I want without having to crawl to you to ask for one fucking penny."

"We need to discuss this calmly. Frankly, I'm finding your attitude a little confrontational and I'm not at all sure that I like that."

"No confrontation John. I'm stating a fact. I'm going to find a job and go to work."

That wasn't the end of it of course. John kept telling me that he wouldn't allow it and I kept telling him he had no choice in the matter. The arguing ended when I grabbed a suitcase and started packing.

"What are you doing?"

"I see no sense in living here and constantly fighting with you over this. I'm getting a job and I'm moving out so I don't have to put up with anymore of your bullshit over it."