This is the story of the time I bought sex. It’s quite likely you know about the girl, she’s a porn star. Her name isn’t Aiday, she’s not from Kyrgyzstan nor from Canada, that stuff is just to make it romantic and exotic. But she’s based in London, kind of. (The same way I’m not named Olaf or Denny.)

If you dislike/hate me for this, I understand, and of course it was the wrong place to look for affection and warmth. But I just wanted to try sex, see I have Asperger syndrome, and for me AS means I have no idea how to get laid, no idea how to get a relationship.

Aiday and Olaf met at a hotel, before the meeting he was inexperienced. Despite his perfect face, her nipples were the only one he had touched. She had a Canadian passport but a background from the unknown Central Asian state Kyrgyzstan, he was from Sweden.

Pulling a carry-on case Aiday went into his hotel room. Just carry-on cases would for months painfully remind Olaf on this day. It would hurt him, it actually already hurt him that entrusted her beautiful words they would never seen each other again. Right after she dropped the carry-on case she threw her arms around him and kissed him on the mouth. While she didn’t had to use even an ounce of her knowledge of human nature to note how nervous he was, it was abundantly clear: "You do not need to be nervous, I will not bite you." In a fit of self-confidence he lay down on the bed, where she already sat and placed his head in Aidays knee. She stroked his hair. "I can not stop looking at your eyes," "You must be popular with the girls." He had heard similar things before, if true, we can kill the myth that looks play any role for men. If you are shy, awkward, weird, you’re screwed, no matter how you look. Then they ended up lying on its side with legs around each other.

They talked about travel, tattoos and some words about her real, serious relation. He had thought that, even if she was a woman of the same sexuality as Catherine Millet, she deserved to be loved. If there were happy sluts he believed that their secret was just lifelong love on the side. He wanted her to be happy, and have a happy sex life because he would be part of it.

He sat on the bed with her legs and arms embracing him, she moaning and humping up and down. In the erotic intoxication, he did not even know how they had ended up in that position, and in an unexpected strong desperation, he wanted to come as fast as possible. He had no illusions the shag was good for her, but maybe she'd had liked the foreplay. Long foreplay that started with his head in her lap, with kisses, with her legs embracing his before Olaf's fingers unbuttoned her jeans.

Afterwards they ended up sitting the same way as before, but now naked. She kissed him again, before her fingers and eyes found the scars on his left shoulder. "Yeah, that's scars" he said. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Seven!" She counted. More kisses, "I like kissing you", she said surprising him. "You're hard again." She suddenly said with a smile on her face and her hand around his rock-hard sex. He followed her example and fingers caressed the tattoo over her butt before finding themselves forward and into her …

Then she toke a shower. Gave him a gift, candy from Milano that she had in her case, and he gave one gift back to her, together with money.

Thank you to anyone who have read all this, I keeped it short but enties here usually are even shorter. You're free to comment, please. Btw she actually called me a "nice guy" on her blog. And I want to end with saying I'll never do it again. This isn't for me.