“Do you get what you Pay For?”

There I was on a Saturday night.

Sitting at the end of the bar with a longneck Coors light in my hand.

I kept looking.

Waiting.

The whole time running the script in my mind.

I wanted to know exactly what to say if it was a setup.

I imagined myself  before the judge, “Your honor, I’m a good person, and I can explain everything.” And since I have never been in front of a judge before, surely he, or she would be very lenient.

“GOD Bless the Internet”

It was 2010 and Craigslist was the place to go.

It’s an absolute travesty you can no longer browse the casual encounters.

And that is really why I thought it was a setup. 

The picture? No way that was really her.

And only $200? I kept thinking there is no way I can do this. I am supposed to be a good boy. This is too good to be true.

So, I messaged.

She called!

It was on!

I ordered my second beer. The phone buzzed. (The good old crackberry days.)

“You here?”

“Yes.”

“Where are you sitting?”

“End of the bar. Burgundy shirt. Coors light bottle.”

This was it. Moment of truth. Would I be going to jail? Or get the ride of my life? Jesus man, this has to be some of the most sketchiest shit I have ever done. Real men don’t have to pay for it do they?  Only drugged out crack addicts with missing teeth have to pay for it, right?

Am I willing to risk having a record over trying to buy sex? Outside of a few places in Nevada paying for sex is not legal, and looked down upon. And I am a long way from Nevada. 

What about my reputation? Oh GOD, what would I say to my parents? I would have to lie to them.

Then he was on me.

Oh, shit, he’s undercover.

“You Jason?” (Names changed obviously to protect the innocent and shit.)

I had one last chance to leave. 

“I am here about Naomi.” (Again, names changed)

“Yeah, I’m Jason.”

“Naomi is in the car, let’s go.”

Cue the music.

Slow motion.

Last sip of the bottle.

Of course, I am playing it cool.

“And then, an Angel from Heaven”

Of course, it could still be a setup. No money has exchanged hands yet.

But once I leaned down to the window, took her hand, and told her my name there was no turning back. I was committed. She was worth going to jail for. 

Of course, I thought the stereotypical bullshit. You know the line. “What’s a girl like you doing something like this?” 

Then the pimp pipes up.

“Grab your car. Follow me to the store.”

That must be where they are going to arrest me. Great, then there won’t be so much humiliation in a crowded parking lot. I still had the chance to leave. 

Then I thought maybe she needs to be rescued. 

I could be like a hero or something.

Who am I kidding, I am sure the guy was carrying.

Besides, I was thinking with the wrong head anyway.

We pull into the parking lot of the store. My head is on a swivel. Everything seems normal.

Inside the store, he tells Naomi to pick out the wine she wants.  At the register, the pimp gives me the signal to pay. Of course, how stupid of me. I wondered if this was a test of my commitment. Did the police show up while we were in the store?

Back in the parking lot, he barks one last order. The often dreaded, “Follow me.” 

What seemed like the longest drive of my life was maybe all of five minutes. After a couple of turns, we made our way into a residential neighborhood.

Then it hit me. 

This is where it would happen.

This is where they arrest all the Johns. 

Right as you get through the door and WHAM, I would probably be face down.

It didn’t matter that I was in a trance.

All I could see was running my hands up those silky smooth, tan, and firm thighs right into heaven itself. I just hope they wait until after I do the deed to arrest me.

I braced myself as I walked through the threshold. But, no one jumped out.

Naomi walked ahead of me. Her gait was one with the high heels. Probably seen her share of the catwalk.  All part of the show I imagine. 

I was a little taken aback. The place was virtually empty. Like someone had just started to move in. The kitchen was bare. In the living room only a matching sofa and loveseat. No pictures, no television, no table in the dining room.

The pimp opened the bottle. Poured us all a glass. I drank somewhat hesitantly. Naomi downed hers. He nodded to Naomi. Told her to go get ready.

Oh Jesus, fuck me.

The swat team just got their cue.

“Time for the Deed”

Naomi was out of sight. 

“The money.” Says the pimp.

This is where it usually goes wrong in the movies. I mean, I didn’t really do anything wrong until I gave the money, right?

No matter. I looked confident. $200, in twenties. Because that’s just how I roll. Slid it across the kitchen island. He counts it. Can’t say I blame him. I wondered just how much of that Naomi would get. After all, she would be doing the lion's share of the work.

The pimp tells me to make myself comfortable. He walks down the hallway.

I sit and wait. 

And wait.

After about ten minutes the pimp returns. Said Naomi would be out in about five more minutes.

He attempts some small talk. I am careful not to divulge too much. Even the name I gave them wasn’t real. Neither was where I worked or where I was from.

He makes a return trip down the hallway.

A few minutes later there she is. 

A lacey black top. Frilly black thong. And still the heels.

A body I could see more of now. 

A body built for sin.

But, there was something different.

As she walked to where I was, I could see that her walk was not the same as before.

She stumbled. Ever so slightly. But it was there.

As she knelt before me the look was different. It was not the same as it was in the car. Her eyes were glazed over. This Naomi was on something. I knew now what the pimp meant by getting ready. It was not just a change of clothes.

I still didn’t care. I was there for one thing. And I doubt pimps are big on refunds. 

The pure carnal indulgence of the flesh. And at that moment I didn’t want anyone besides Naomi. To this day, ten years later, I still have not met a woman so beautiful. So put together. A perfect specimen of GOD’s handiwork. 

She took my hand and led me to the back bedroom.

It held more signs of life. A bed with nice sheets. 

A dresser with a chair and mirrors.

A bedside table with a handful of colorful-looking condoms.

When Naomi sat me on the bed I realized the pimp was in the room as well.

He said he would be sitting in the room watching.

Cuckolded! Nice.

Whatever. My focus was on Naomi.

She started to undress her and me. I was already wet as hell.

My only fear now? That I would cum before I wanted to.

“Worth the Money?”

Her Tits!

Her gorgeous, perky tits were on full display as she straddled me!

Cue the music. Again. As she went down on me and started sucking my cock. If the average woman only knew that’s how a man wants every sexual episode to start.

Please God let me last for hours. I want to get my money's worth.

What kept me from cumming in her mouth I have no idea. It’s like she knew exactly when to slow down or stop so I wouldn’t go over the edge.

She stood up. Slid her thong off. Tore open a condom and put it on me. She kissed my body on the way to my mouth.

Then it happened. The only moment in my life where I will ever be that close to heaven. 

Her wetness was unlike any wet I had ever experienced. Even with a condom on. It was like her sole reason for being born was to tease and please every inch of my average cock. 

She rode me, cowgirl.

All the moves were there.

The caressing of the hair.

The leaning back of the head caused by the deep ecstasy that I alone was providing her.

The way she fondled her nipples and then reached slowly for her clit. 

Then, somehow, amazingly orchestrated a roll into missionary without my cock falling out of her waterfall of a pussy.

She looked at me as if I were the last man on earth and uttered the words every man in that position loves to hear.

“Come on Daddy, give me the cock. I have been a very bad girl.”

I almost lost it there. Or maybe the $7 dollar magnum pill I took a few hours before actually had some magic in it. It was at that point I felt like I was getting my money’s worth.

I just kept fucking the best way I knew how. I had never lasted that long before and very few times since. Maybe there was a GOD in that moment. Even he saw the beauty in it and wanted it to last.

At some point, Naomi leaned up and orchestrated another magnum opus. She was able to lean me back and managed to go back to cowgirl with no strain. Like a Goddamned pro. Like she had done it a thousand times before. And the dick stayed in.

But instead of continuing to fuck me she slid off once again caressing my body with her lips. She got down to my cock and pulled the mother fucker off with her teeth and spit it onto the floor.

Then she commenced sucking my cock like it has never been sucked before. Golf ball through a water hose type of sucking. Every inch of my average cock in and out of her beautiful mouth sucking. 

I thought for sure it was time to cum but GOD said, “Not yet my son.” 

When she was good and ready she put another condom on me and went right back to riding me, never missing a beat.

It was then I was sure I got my money’s worth. If there was a next time I would gladly quadruple it.

I had no idea at this point how long we had been fucking. But, like an Olympic sprinter staring down the finish line, I was getting there. It was only a matter of seconds now.

I tried hard to stop it because I wanted more. I was helpless. 

Now, she was staring down at me. 

“Where do you want to put it?”

I was puzzled. I didn’t know if she was talking about her ass or what.

“Your cum. Where do you want to put it?”

Holy shit, I thought to myself. How did she know I was close?

“Your tits,” I managed.

She slid down the bedside so stealthily, her knees didn’t make a single sound on the floor. 

I was on my feet in a flash. This time the condom came off with her hand. Naomi gave me the most wondrous hand job until I spilled the most beautiful music across her exquisite tits.

She looked up at me just like they do in the pornos.

The happiest moment of my life.

I can scratch it off my bucket list.

That’s right. You heard me motherfuckers. You get what you pay for. And I was glad I did.