Erotic Story: Confessions of an Exotic Sex Worker…The One That Never Ends

My name is Nene and I am a prostitute in Nigeria. I work for myself and by myself. I have a website where a lot of my pictures are posted.

They are mostly nude, s*xual pictures that aim to attract guys. My rates are also posted there including my methods and rules.

Why am I sharing my stories? Well, will you believe me if I said I simply want to entertain you? I hope you do because that is all this is all about.

From time to time, I will be sharing my s*xual experience with each client with you, not in chronological order, though. Today, I will be sharing my experience with a guy I shall call Mr. X.

Mr. X is in his 50’s. Sure, he sported that popular Yoruba older man belly pudge, otherwise, he looked pretty okay.

We agreed on the hotel we will meet at, and the time of our meeting. I usually prefer to head to the hotel room first and have my clients meet me there.

I wanted to make sure I had time to prepare. I can take a shower, change into something s*xy, or set up my props (if my client was into that).

When I opened the door, Mr X greeted me with a smile. He entered inside and proceeded to take off his clothes. I loved clients who did not dilly dally.

Part of my methods is to make sure the guy paid into a bank account before the meeting. I did encounter a few men that were sceptical. I understood, it’s Nigeria, after all, and we are professional scammers, but I’d rather work this way than have someone f*ck me and not pay for it.

I walked up to Mr X to help him undress. His kisses were sloppy but I had learned to get used to it. He nibbled weirdly at my neck and asked me to lay down.

He was into p*ssy eating (one of those things we discussed before meeting), so I was not surprised when he headed straight down there.

Men, what the man lacked when it came to mouth kissing, he more than made up for during p*ssy eating. He went to town on that c*nt.

He teased, licked and gently sucked away on my cl*toris till I just about went wild. It was rare, in my line of work, to meet a guy who ate p*ssy well so I simply relaxed and enjoyed.

He ate me for almost 20 minutes straight, leaving my p*ssy dripping uncontrollably. By the time the f*cking began, I was more than ready.

He lifted my legs over his shoulders, sat on knees and began to enter me. His d*ck was already hard and throbbing when he entered that I figured orgasm was imminent. I was wrong.

Forty minutes later, my man was still thrusting happily into me. He turned me over on hands and knees and entered me from behind. He alternated between deep, fast thrusts and gentle ones.

He was sweating and moaning and having the best time while I was wondering how much longer he will be.

At the one-hour mark, I was the one doing the f*cking. I squatted on his d*ck and gave it all I had, hoping my bouncy boobs and gyrating hips will push him over that line.

An hour, and a half after, we were still on it. This time, we were standing. I was leaning against the bed, bent over while he entered me from behind.

His grunts and groans were still so enthusiastic that I was sure he was not even noticing the time. His hands on my hips were sweaty as his fingers dug into my ass.

I held on to my boobs and teased my n*pples so I stayed wet for him. I soon began to stroke my clit as he f*cked me. I felt the pleasure and tried to get back into the game.

It was a little bit after the 2-hour mark that he finally started to get there. We were back to missionary, my legs were far apart and his thrusts were getting more urgent.

His moans were louder and breathing was faster. With each thrust, he ground against my pelvis, hitting my sweet spot and making me feel really good.

I tightened my p*ssy around him to encourage him as he finally came deep inside my p*ssy. At that moment, I understood why his wife stopped fucking him several years ago.

About the Author:

Lola Phillips is a columnist, relationship and s*x writer.