After my first meeting with Karen at the bar in the French Quarters, I didn't have to give it much thought. She'd given me a good run down of what was expected of me and how to deal with it, the prospect of making all that money had me swayed and in a way I couldn't wait to start. We became friends and I met new friends through her, had a ball discovering the unique city of New Orleans and other parts of Louisiana. In the mean time I still kept my job with the recruitment agency. To me working as an escort part time didn't make me a prostitute, it was just a moonlighting gig that I took my clothes off for. Right?
She called me that day at work to let me know she had a client for me to see later that evening and would confirm by the time I got home. The rest of the day was fuzzy and I was anxious now that it came down to actually being with a client. It almost felt like a first date, but not quite, as one doesn't feel afraid before a first date. She confirmed he was at the Hilton by the River walk and was in from Kansas City for a convention and he wanted me there at 8pm. By this time I had found a lovely little house in the Garden district against well intentioned advice from my boss (day job) and his wife. They thought it was a little too close to the projects, but I liked the unique interior of the house, which I rented from an attorney. Besides my neighbours were nice people.
I got dressed in a nice black dress I bought from Ann Taylor a few days before. She had arranged for someone to drive me there and he arrived to take me on the short ride down town. He walked in with me and headed for the bar while I took the elevator up. I felt very cold, clammy, was shaking with nerves when I knocked at his hotel door. The man who opened it was maybe in his 40's, non-di
script, not very tall with a mop of red hair. The red hair is what I remember most for some reason whenever I recall the "event".
We exchanged pleasantries and he offered me a seat on the side of the bed, but my ass didn't quite make it that far and I sort of stumbled when I tried to sit. We talked of what he did for a while and he asked me about myself and where I came from since I didn't sound like an American. I didn't have to ask for the money as he handed it to me and I put it in my purse without counting it as Karen had told me to do. I then called her to let her know all was well. He offered me something to drink which I declined and then moved closer to me and touched my
breast at which time I knew it was time to get the show started. Standing up he removed his shirt and then pants
awkwardly, while I started unzipping my dress. He was
completely naked and I still had bra, panties, thigh highs and shoes. Pulling me towards him he gently pushed me to the bed and tried to kiss me, while leading my hands towards his dick encouraging me to stroke it, which I did but didn't anticipate what came next. I vomited.
I guess my nerves must have got the best of me and confessed it was my first time as an escort and
awkwardly ran to the bathroom to clean myself up, leaving the poor fella to not only clean himself of my vomit, but also to strip the bed and I guess at some point call house keeping for clean sheets. Things were too
awkward and there wasn't any point in staying so we said our good byes and I walked to the bar to meet my driver and almost collapsed in a seat next to him. I had a sip of his drink and then found a pay phone to call Karen who told me every thing would be
OK. She asked if I wanted to come to her home, but I declined
just wanting to go home shower and cover myself with a soft comforter.
Counting the money in the car I discovered he'd given me $170, the fee was $150 of which Karen got $60 and I kept $90 (this was New Orleans in the mid 1980's). I guess I didn't do too bad taking home $110. I took a shower, climbed into bed and tossed and turned for an eternity before falling asleep. I had to be at the office at 8.30 am.