A Saturday evening some months ago that was slowly fading into night. I was sitting at a table in a bar, sipping the rest of my cocktail. The friends I had come here with had moved on in the meantime. I didn't feel like partying, they did. No problem.
I could feel the stares. They wandered over my legs, my skirt, my top, up to my face and back again. Finally, he nodded slightly at me and came closer. He was older than me, estimated to be a little over 30, with a business hairstyle, a well-groomed 3-day beard and he looked sporty. Would I mind if he sat down with me and invited me for another cocktail? I didn't, he looked good and there's nothing wrong with a bit of company. I decided on a piña colada and while we drank and made small talk, I kept noticing his eyes on me.

I waited for the question that was unspoken in the room. It wouldn't be my first one night stand and he was exactly the type of guy I was in the mood for that evening. And finally he asked. But it was a different question to the one I had expected. Instead, he offered me money if I came with him. I wasn't prepared for that and thought back and forth. In fact, only seconds may have passed, but whole discussions of principles were taking place in my head. I finally came to the conclusion that I was ready to have an ONS with him and if there was some money involved, why not?

So I finally said okay and shortly afterwards we both left the bar to go to his house. The mood was still cheerful, but at the same time I had a bit of stage fright and felt a certain tension. It wasn't just fun, there was a business factor involved, I had agreed to have sex with him for a fee. That changed a lot of things, even if it didn't seem like it on the surface. For the first time, I had slipped into the role of the service provider, who should also have fun, but within the framework set by the partner, or now the client. Stage fright, as I said, but no fear or aversion. The situation was exciting, new and an excursion into a world that I had any contact with before and was mainly familiar with clichés. It was a thrill to make this a reality for one night.

When we arrived at his place, we went into the living room, where he calmly placed the agreed fee on the table for me. I pocketed it somewhat awkwardly and wondered what would happen next. Would he give me instructions or did he expect me to take the initiative instead? As it turned out, neither, because he poured us both some liqueur and we talked for a few minutes about trivial matters. That relaxed me a little and eventually I asked what he would think if I freshened up in the bathroom and then we had fun together? He thought a lot of it.

Back from the bathroom, I had to undress while he looked at me from the armchair. Stripping was neither my preference nor my talent, but oh well. I slipped out of my clothes more awkwardly than lasciviously until I was standing in front of him in just my thong and felt the scrutinizing looks again. Then I went to him, knelt in front of him, opened his pants and started to suck him off. As I mentioned before, I was anything but inexperienced sexually and had already had a few ONS. However, I was always in charge and basically did whatever I felt like doing. In this case, however, there was a clear division of roles and that meant that he said what he wanted and I did it. I don't want that to come across wrongly, if he had asked for something I wasn't willing to do, I wouldn't have done it and, if in doubt, I would have given him the money back. But I found it exciting and the positions and practices he wanted were all okay and nothing unusual.

Nevertheless, I was much more insecure than usual, I kept looking at him and trying to interpret his reactions. Was it good the way I was doing it? Or was it not and he was just pretending to make me feel better? It took a while before I was halfway sure that I wasn't being too stupid and loosened up a bit. Especially when we switched to positions where he was the more active part, like in the missionary position or when we switched from riding to doggie position.

Time passed and eventually I disappeared back into the bathroom to clean up and get dressed.
The farewell was friendly but not sentimental, no questions as to whether we would meet again, maybe have breakfast together or anything like that. We had a lot of fun together, sex in different positions and yet it was a business arrangement and now the meeting had just come to an end and we were parting company. It was something I hadn't experienced before, but I kind of liked it. I've had various relationships, of course, but somehow I prefer to be alone in my own four walls. Acquaintances who always want to say hello or more are rather annoying. It was clearly over and done with here and that was pleasant. Also because I had a few things on my mind that I wanted to think about.

Because: I had prostituted myself quite unplanned and what did that actually mean? It was neither dirty and humiliating as I knew it from television nor sophisticated and wicked. Instead, it was just sex, in which I played a role in the client's script and was only marginally concerned with my needs. Was that good? Was it bad? Had I made a mistake?
It was different. What was clear was that it gave me a buzz, I felt comfortable in the role of wish-fulfiller and it flattered me that my body, with which I was dissatisfied in many ways, could be quite attractive and seductive after all. So I drove home from my first customer, and it wasn't to be the last. Now I have the same hobby as my sister.