There is a new trend out there, guys: live sex for the real man who is confident in his sexuality… a real connection with a live woman… who is both teacher and a cheap prostitute(sex giver). I ought to know: my current girlfriend is a teacher and a cheap prostitute. She informed me the other day, over pancakes, that she has live sex with hundreds of men in order to do research for her new book, which has something to do with taming the wild woman out there. She said cheap live sex with other men was essential to her research. She said she meets men online through popular dating sites and offers to be their guide. Her rates are reasonable she tells me, cheap even.
As I am inserting my tongue into her belly-button, she says that for the price of a movie and dinner, or maybe a hotel room for the night, she can teach me everything. Everything. I have thus far agreed. I have taken her to live concerts, live sex shows and feature live movies as well. We have dined on oysters and spaghetti bolognaise, and have shared extravagant wines together.
Now, after three weeks, she says she wants to take our relationship to another level—a more serious level. I must admit, the sex has been great and I am willing to follow her almost anywhere (my tongue hanging out behind her as I drool onto the back of her dress, my penis always erect and willing, my precum dribbling into my cheap jeans as I walk behind her in the metro park). It makes me horny just thinking about it. However, I have to ask myself, “Do I really want to settle down with a teacher- cheap prostitute who must suck other guys off in order to complete her thesis? It’s a real quandary. She swears she will let me into her vagina for free nowadays; claiming that I am the man of her true heart. But, I do not like the idea of sharing my girlfriend/ sex partner with these others.
Call me the jealous type. For me, sex has always been an intimate and caring experience. For her, it’s a cheap duty for the greater good. I hope she does not have to meet her editor face-to-face when she goes to propose the book because she might end up in sixty-nine with him (or her) just to prove her point—mainly, that good sex can be taught by a live teacher-prostitute who happens to live in a condo and drives a brand new Full-size Ford truck (cherry red, just like her nipples, which, I suppose, she would let anyone suck for the price of a fountain pen. Last night, over pork-chops, she informed me that she loved my ‘small, unobtrusive member’ more than the other four hundred cocks she has had the pleasure of sucking. There may come a point when I am fully comfortable, fully adjusted to this.
Meanwhile, I will watch the live strip tease at the casino while I wait for her to conduct raw, naked research with the bellhop in some random closet on level three. Thinking about it is a cheap thrill, I suppose. And there are payoffs. By practicing with other men, she is able to service me well. And she does this pelvic gripping thing when she gyrates on top of me at night, or in the van parked outside her father’s old house. “I would suck old dad off for a night on the town. Then, I would report the details directly to my public. I came into this world naked and I am not ashamed of any of it,” she tells me from time to time while unzipping my cheap pants.
What is a fellow to do?