Chapter One – A Slow Start

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The Best Days of My Life

by Willow & Maple Forest

chapter one – A Slow Start

I’ve reached the point in my life I have the time and the inclination to look back at my life and times. Decades of personal excess and misogynistic abuse drove me from my lucrative career of DNA analysis and into a series of failed attempts at rehab. Honestly it is difficult to see how I survived those days, finally ending with a stint in prison. Yet I have more than survived. I’ve returned to college and I’m starting my life again. So an English class assignment to describe the happiest time of our lives had me looking back to when I was in college. I had the best part-part job imaginable, I worked as a happy hooker. And it was the complete opposite of what I thought it would be or feel like.

This true story I’m telling you is actually a dramatic recreation of my life. So the identities of everyone and everywhere in my past have been obscured and irrelevant details have been deleted or changed. But I can assure you, the men I met were all real and all of the sex I describe happened as I described it. And I actually loved having sex as a job and climaxed with every man entering me.

I started college late so I could earn money for school. For several years after high school I had a full-time job at a halfway house for female non-violent offenders reentering society. Working the night shift was hardly a job for me. Staying up all night and checking the residents as they slept paid better than the same position during the day. From the very first night I found lots of the women wake up in the middle of the night and sit in the tv room (without the tv on) so I’d talk to them about their lives before jail. Many of the women had been working as prostitutes and they told me about earning big money with little effort. They loved my reactions to their stories about what the men did with or to them. So a naïve high school grad starting the job was not the adultish gal quitting to start college with a nest egg.

To prove to my parents I was really serious about school, I had saved money for books and incidentals. Now they would pay my tuition and on-campus housing costs. So I started college much later than my freshmen classmates. But living in the dorms was an absolute revolution to me. The gals on my floor were all instantly my best friends. They seemed to respect me and asked advice from the “older woman” on the dorm floor. Once they learned about the work I was doing they were supportive and even helped find clients for my “part-time job”.

But I’m getting ahead of myself, let’s start at the beginning and say my name is Diane and I’m going to college in one of the fly-over states near one of the state’s largest cities. I was majoring in biochemistry and it was a real challenge for me. I found myself in a struggle to keep up my homework and have any kind of a social life. My freshmen year I was keeping the balance but my sophomore year the classwork and labs started consuming more time till all I was doing was studying. Then one of my dorm friends introduced me to the magic of cocaine. It changed my life for the better in ways I never imagined.

She dragged me out to a dance club, but I was too worn out to get on the floor. So she pulled me into a bathroom stall and proceeded to cut lines of a white powder on a makeup mirror. I snorted my first lines. Even before I was out of the restroom I felt like I’d never ever felt. I danced until my feet were sore, then back in the dorms we smoked weed and made a lot of coke disappear before dawn. Suddenly I realized had a test in organic chemistry in three hours and I was too tired to attend the class let alone take the exam. That’s when my friend rescued me and changed my life.

Even without studying, my score was as good as when I studied my ass off. And I stayed awake attending all of my morning classes. But when I was back in my room, I crashed like Skylab. Later in the evening my friend popped in to check on me. I couldn’t stop talking about how great I felt and especially how well I did on the exam. I don’t know if she offered or if I asked, but within an hour I had an eight-ball of coke in my drawer. And for the next several years I’ll admit I was on coke as often as I wasn’t, and even though disco had died, cocaine and sex with random strangers seemed as popular as ever. And my little habit was nothing compared to the strung out addicts I was buying my coke from. I was doing as well in classes as before cocaine but I actually had my social life back and even better than before.

This was the best I’d ever done at anything in my life. I was holding my own in my classes and my social life had blown up. I’d found a sort of equilibrium in the coke I used in a week and realized how much I was spending to buy it. By anyone’s standard, the cash I dropped on coke was excessive. And it was rapidly adding up to be a problem in the future. The money I’d saved had to be there for my folks to continue Sıhhıye escort paying for college. So I had to start earning big money. And soon.

I had to get a job, a part-time job so I had time for classes and socializing. And I had to get really good job. I mean a really, really good job. Only there was not going to be any part-time jobs I could earn several hundred dollars a week, hell most didn’t pay that much in a month! So the problem was finding a job that paid a hundred dollars an hour for four to six hours a week. One job leapt to mind. The women in the halfway house had told me all about a way to get big money.

I had to start working as a prostitute. The money from turning tricks would cover my “medication” expenses and it would only need a few hours a week to earn it. At least that was how I thought it would work. “Only how do I find men to pay me for sex with them? And what if they want something kinky?! I’ve only had sex with seven men and like twenty times! Wow!” My thoughts are disrupted by my roomie clattering into the room.

She really looked like she’d had a rough day. “I can’t believe how long we were knee-deep in muck and trying to net minnows.”

“That’s where you’ve been all day?” I asked. “You got a bunch of calls, I left your messages on your desk.”

“Oh thanks. I’ll look at them later.” She was rolling a joint as she spoke and looked at me after licking the seam sealing pot inside the paper, “You wanna start this?”

“No, you go ahead,” I began, “I’ll lay out a few rails to get this party started.”

After we smoked the joint and slammed the lines, I asked my roomie what she thought about me becoming a prostitute. And she convulsed from laughter, “You out on the stroll, that’s hilarious. You don’t have experience fucking anyone, let alone strangers you pick up.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that.” I smiled at the thought. But later that night when I was back from getting an eight-ball for the weekend I once more thought about being a prostitute. It was the only way I could think of to make the money I needed to fund my habit and maybe make some extra cash. I’ve had sex and I enjoyed it, so why couldn’t I fuck someone for money? But the idea faded as I thought about how to find men to pay me for sex. In the days before computer ads and cell phones, I really had no idea how to find men. Plus it was illegal, what would cops do if they saw me?

But the idea was stuck in my brain. I’d started to think it couldn’t be that hard to find men looking to pay for sex. In years of living in the nearby metro area I’d heard prostitutes would walk on a stretch of downtown everyone called the Loop. It sounded right to me. My only role models were my friends from the halfway house who worked in brothels or for pimps. Or girls working the streets on TV dramas. Dressed in obviously slutty clothing, they flagged down cars or bent-over the window of a stopped car and they made some deal. I could do that, it doesn’t sound hard. Only I can’t just stand on a corner, I’d attract police attention. But if I looked really hot and walked around the downtown Loop I could surely attract attention from some guy wanting a quick fuck. I was certain I could close the deal if I had the chance.

Saying I would be a streetwalker couldn’t help unless I got out on a street and started looking for horny men with money. But it didn’t turn out to be all that easy. On the twenty minute trip into town my heart was racing and there was the worst gnawing I’d ever felt grabbing my gut. It didn’t get any better when I was parked a few blocks from the downtown Loop. It was after nine o’clock and nothing was moving, not even a car on the roads. I took a deep breath and opened the car door. I sat with the car door open for an eternity and broke out in a light sweat. I kept telling myself I could do it. “I could let some guy grope my body then screw me however he wants. What’s so hard about that?” I grabbed the door and slammed it harder than I’d ever done. I fumbled trying to put my keys in the ignition. When the engine roared to life I backed out of the parking spot and turned to leave.

My tires squealed as I shot out of the parking lot. I was speeding all the way to the interstate and until I took the second exit to campus. I drove home feeling a mixture of disappointment and a new resolve. Back in my dorm room my roomie could see how disappointed I looked. “You’re back early,” she began, “What’d you do, find a John as soon as you got out of the car?”

“I didn’t get out of the car at all.” My voice was flat, but my disappointment was turning into disgust at how weak I was. “I got all dressed up, even putting on a garter belt and drove to the downtown Loop. I parked the car and opened the door, but I couldn’t put my foot out. I can’t make any money like that.”

“Maybe you’re just not the type to let random men have their way if they give you cash.” She had crossed the room to put her hand on my shoulder, “You Tunalı escort can’t beat yourself up for not wanting to fuck total strangers. You don’t have to earn money like that.”

But I did have to earn money like that. Because I did have to earn that kind of money. And I had to start earning it soon. If walking the downtown Loop is the only way to get that cash, that was what I would do. “I’m ready to hit the bars, how ’bout you” I said turning to face my roomie.

She turned her chair to face me, “I can’t. There’s chemistry test first thing in the morning and I’ve got to get a passing grade or it’s an academic warning, again.”

“Now that you mention it, I’ve got to work on the term paper for Peterson. It’s got to be good or she’ll nail me for the least little mistakes. Then I’d get an academic warning.” I slipped out of my night-on-the-town outfit and pulled on a pair of dirty sweatpants with a clean T-shirt. I tried to put any thoughts of my dilemma aside. And I poured myself in the paper till after two. However, I didn’t sleep well, I dreamt of men pawing my body and waving cash at me. I wished it was that easy.

I spent the day trying not to think about what I was going to do later that night. I kept busy the whole day and right though dinner in the cafeteria. Now I was trying to encourage myself to just take the plunge. I’d had a couple of one-night stands so I could fuck some stranger. Getting paid would only make it better, like getting too much cab fare from your date.

I kept up my cheerleading while getting dressed to show off my assets a little more than usual. I pulled on my laciest black panties and then the matching bra. I put on my nicest black satin blouse but left the top unbuttoned to put my boobs on display. Since I only wore pleated skirts I found my shortest black skirt, pulled it on then gave a spin to cause it to fly up and expose my panties. Black nylons were the only choice for this outfit and a garter belt to attract the men. Finally I put on my favorite pumps, they would be comfortable for the long walk around the Loop. To top it off I had a small black cocktail purse with a long leather and chain strap I could carry on a shoulder. Fully dressed and looking hot I twirled around once more and my skirt spun up so I saw my nylons, garters and panties. Perfect. And a little red lipstick to top it all off.

Driving to the city the same thoughts were rolling over and over in my mind. I’m telling myself, “This is the only way to make money in amounts I’ve got to have. So I can do this. I have to do this. How do I do this? I’ve got to find a man and approach him, then somehow offer my services to him. And I can do this. I have to do this. I can’t fail or my life will unravel. I need this money and this is the only way I can make it.” It doesn’t stop until I see a familiar parking lot

I drove to nearly the same parking spot as last night. I pulled my car up to the curb and threw open the car door. I grabbed my purse from the passenger seat and stepped out of the car. I pushed the lock button down and shut the door. I opened my cocktail purse and tucked the car keys under the condoms and a couple of tampons, just in case. Then I adjusted my skirt and stepped on the sidewalk, the Loop was only a few blocks from where I’d parked and it took no time to cover the distance.

As I reached the sidewalk, I paused only a moment before turning south. I tried to put a little more swing to my hips. Only I couldn’t, I was too much into my head. I kept saying to myself, “Oh my god! I’m really doing this, I’m really fucking doing this. Oh my god!” Over and over I was telling myself the same thing and walking along the sidewalk in a daze. I couldn’t get out of my head. My voice was shouting in my mind, “Oh my god!!! Am I really fucking doing this?!!!” I’d only been walking for half an hour when I turned east to a straight section of the Loop. But changing direction didn’t change the shouting in my mind. “Am I really fucking doing this? How can I do this?!”

I don’t recall a thing about most of the walk. I was far too into my head to even notice who was out on the sidewalk that night. I just walked, one foot in front of the other. One foot in front of the other. And I was finally on the sidewalk leading to where I started my walk. I was thinking I’m almost done, and it can’t be too soon for me. Then a voice called out directly to me.

“Hey ma’am, could we give you a ride somewhere? You look a pretty tired of walking.” The voice came from the passenger seat of some large maroon car. He was hanging his head out the window as he called and gestured at me. No one in the car looked a day under sixty so just shook my head and tried to ignore them. But once again the same guy called to me, “We ain’t gonna do nothing to you. Just giving a tired lady a ride.”

“Thanks guys but I’m nearly where I’m going. You can find your fun somewhere else.” With that I arrived at the sidewalk leading to my Turangüneş escort car, pivoted to the right and began striding down the sidewalk. I didn’t hear them anymore so I hoped they’d gone. Arriving at my car, I turned to look back where I’d came from to see nothing at all. I unlocked the car door and practically fell into the seat. Pulling off my pumps I leaned down to massage each foot for a minute or two.

Back on the highway home I had a hint of a smile. “So I did it, I was out and walked the entire Loop. Maybe no one was looking for sex tonight, but tomorrow will be better. I did it tonight and I can do it tomorrow. Some guy has to be looking to get laid.” For once I wasn’t bitching at myself for being too frightened to walk around the Loop. I felt just a little pride to say, “It took me five hours to walk the entire twelves miles in the Loop. And I was ready to close the deal if any man looked at me.”

The last part may not have been exactly true. I just hadn’t come across any men on the sidewalk or even in a car. In the shower I felt better about myself than in months. The hot water hitting my back and flowing down along my ass and the insides of my thighs. It felt so good, but my legs were too tired to do anything about it in the shower. So I picked up the pace and was heading for bed not long after getting home. My roomie hadn’t stirred since I’d opened our dorm room door. The only sound was her breath slowly marking time in the dark. Physically tired, my thoughts were still celebrating my achievement. “It may not have been what I’d thought, I just had to give it a chance. Maybe I’ll start closer to downtown…” Then I fell dead to the world till my roomie returned from her first class around ten that morning.

“Hey sleepyhead! You can’t just lay in bed all day. I know you’ve got some kind of class later. You look like you’ve been run over by a truck” she said as she tossed her backpack on her bed.

“Class today?” I’d rolled on my back and was talking to the ceiling, “What day is it?”

“Thursday, and you’re not going to make it to your English class.”

“I’ve gotten a great start on today.” I groaned as I struggled to get out of my bed. I didn’t have to go very far to turn this day around. “So a couple of rails for the day? You know I’m doing them.”

“I’ll get out the pipe so we can smoke some weed to take the edge off. Damn those are big.”

“Just slam half at a time, you lightweight. Here’s how a real woman does it.” My show of excellence at getting coke into my blood also started turning my day around. The aches and pains had vanished, replaced with the energy to walk all the way across campus for my afternoon lab. I smiled to myself, this is why I use coke. It makes my life work for me. After the lab, I returned to the dorm to study for the exam in organic chemistry. It was still two days away but I couldn’t afford to get less than a C, so I’d need all the studying I could get.

After the hot day of traipsing around the campus and sweating my ass off, I needed a shower in the worst way. Once in the shower it was all business and soon I was toweling off. I chose an outfit nearly identical to what I wore last night. After the twenty minute trip to the city, I parked in a different area this time so I’d start from a place I hadn’t been. When I opened the car door a wave of hot air rolled in chasing the air conditioning out. It wasn’t this hot on campus, but I wasn’t on campus. And I had a job to do. I had to find a stranger to pay me for having sex with him. And I could do it, I just needed a chance to show my stuff to start a conversation.

After locking the car, I started my walk to a different section of the Loop. It was empty when I came through last night and hoped my luck had changed for tonight. When I tried to hope for a horny young man, I imagined some old perverts asking me how much. Turning onto the Loop, I started walking slowly past the few bars in the neighborhood. There was a lot of noise and commotion in all of them, but it didn’t look like there was anyone older than twenty. So I kept my pace and moved past a row of apartment buildings. I wasn’t in my head as loudly as last night. But the fear I felt about both fucking some stranger or not making the money I had to get fought in my head as I walked past parked cars and directly into the hottest wind I’d ever felt.

Within ten minutes I was sweating on my exposed skin. And ten minutes later my blouse was sticking to my skin and the skirt was damp around my hips. But I kept walking, trying to look hot. In a few minutes I passed by a store window and saw myself in the reflection. Sweat from my head was starting to drip off my hair and down my back. But it was ever wetter there.

If I cut across on the boulevard I can be back in the car in about twenty minutes. I was thinking it was too hot to fuck anyway. After getting back to the car I started the engine and turned the air conditioner on full blast. But it was still some ten minutes before I felt cool enough to head back to school. “I should have kept going, how can I find a John sitting in my car. But I’m not getting out and into the oven outside. I’m fucking this all up. I’ve got to try harder, that’s it, I’ll just try harder.”

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