An Escort in Seoul - Chapter One

Transcript

Chapter 1. What men are made of It never got old The feeling of standing in front of a door not knowing what type of man would emerge from behind it But knowing surely I'd have his dick in my mouth by the end of the night Or at the start of it It was always up to them But I never let them believe that a good escort can make a man orgasm Fulfill his sexual desires quench his lust for a time. I was not a good escort.

I was an excellent escort. I was phenomenal the very definition of seduction. I stared into the eyes of the men that stood before me and became the very thing they wanted.

I became a fantasy An illusion. I became their innermost desires Things they were too scared to confess Things they didn't know they wanted. I became their nightmare and their dream It wasn't about the sex.

It was rarely about the sex People did not pay as much as they did for just an orgasm Few minutes of false euphoria, an hour of pounding and sweating They wanted an unfathomable experience They wanted to be teleported into a whole new world They wanted to forget, to remember, to run to, to run from And I was their transport Their ticket out of reality Think of it as some kind of therapy Sometimes they cry, talk for hours about what lays their souls with poison, seek my approval, seek my Condemnation. I was where they came to when the rest of the world was shrinking on them and In their fears, I was wonderful, powerful, larger than life That is why I chose to become an escort I loved seeing what people were truly made of How low they'd sink, how high they rise, what broke them, what made them It made me feel irrelevant in this ridiculous thing called life. In a sea of their problems, my worries drowned That and the fact that getting fucked and paid was a kink in itself for me Nothing turned me on harder than having people pay to use me My body was in mine for those few hours I was theirs to lust after, theirs to bury their hopes, dreams, and come in Their hate, their resentment, their fears, my body absorbed Every bit of it sent me ablaze with passion And in their fire, I transformed, becoming something outwardly only for them I knocked on the door and took a step back After five years of being an escort in Seoul I still got jitters from both excitement and uncertainty about who'd emerge I loved the surprise, the wait, the anticipation That was the reason I told my agency to never let me know who they were Just where, if they had specific, any specific kinks I needed to fulfill They needed me to dress a certain way, smell a certain way All my regular clients were above the age of 40 I preferred them older They were nicer and could hold a decent conversation They could tell me about the world, teach me about art, music, fine cuisine, poetry All the important things of life For someone who spent most of his life taking it or giving it It was imperative that I enjoyed it to some degree And the older men were just more giving, more patient, more delicate Most importantly, they knew what they wanted They knew exactly what I needed to become, so it was easier to become it I didn't have to try so hard They scarcely lied or hid their fantasies from me They had mastered their art of not giving a fuck There was no shame, so there was no war Younger men were too conflicted, ambitious, impatient Their lack of experience with life was evident in the way they fucked With eagerness and no chivalry They were angry most of the time, selfish, conceited Not that I minded As long as they adhered to my one rule to discontinue whenever I wanted A rule I used sparingly The door swung open and my lips curved up.