The first time I got paid to fuck somebody was during second semester of my Freshman year at an Elite Small Liberal Arts College. The first person that ever paid me to fuck them was a frat boy.
One night I was minding my lonesome in my dorm studying Italian when I got a text message from P, the star football player with a monster cock. He wanted to know if I was interested in making some quick money. I told him yes because, well, who the hell likes slow money!? He gave me the details and begged me to come join him. Basically this closeted frat guy — call him A — was horny and messaged P begging to be pounded by several black dicks all at once.
I told P hell no — I wouldn’t do it. But he didn’t like people telling him no, so ten minutes late he was banging down my door and after I let him in he spent the next thirty minutes trying to convince me to do it. He was my pimp and I was a scantly-clad prostitute new to the corner! P begged me to do it because he really needed the money to pay his frat dues funnily enough, and the white frat boy made it clear that he wouldn’t pay the full amount unless two black dicks came over and fucked him.
At least I’d be getting compensated for this hook-up. I could definitely use $500 bucks right about now, and these funky Italian flashcards aren’t going to magically turn into money. At the time I was working a couple days a week on-campus making around 100 dollars a week, so the premise of making 500 dollars in less than an hour for doing something I probably would be doing anyway was enticing enough.
We had a few drinks before heading over and because we were wasted when we got to his room we laughed the entire way up the stairs, in a state of disbelief. What would our mothers think if they ever found out?
The first person who ever paid me to fuck them was a frat boy.
We got to A’s room and pushed open his room door, which he had left slightly ajar. The room was dark and smelled of lube. He was standing by the window, naked and as soon as I saw him my jaw hit the floor, my body froze and my balls shriveled up to the size of raisins.
He was definitely NOT my type and I was so uncomfortable I blacked out for a few minutes. A, the frat boy, was bent over doggy style on the ground and P fucked him ferociously. I sat on the bed playing with A’s Fleshlight because I decided I wasn’t going to touch him in any way whatsoever.
Then, P let out a gasp, but not the “I’m coming” gasp. This was the “OMG THERE IS SHIT ALL OVER MY DICK” gasp.
We were horrified. A apologized to P but wanted to keep going. Ugh, no.
I left A’s place feeling disgusting but not too sad or regretful. P and I walked back to the other side of campus and laughed the whole way. When I got back to my dorm I put the 500 dollars in a drawer and went back to studying Italian.
I never saw or spoke to A again but according to Facebook he is now a Director of Youth Ministries at a Methodist Church in Tennessee. I wonder if he is still paying young college boys for sex.