What’s past is prologue

Posted: June 1, 2010 in blowjob, Hobbyist, hookers, prostituion, sex
Tags: , , , , , ,

How did I get here?

Well... how did I get here?

I’ve been struggling with an injury lately. How it happened isn’t really important. Maybe it was a sports injury, maybe it was work-related. Maybe I threw my back out trying to lift up my massive gut to reach my dick. Whatever, it’s not important. The point is, I was undergoing a bit of physical therapy for my fat/dick- related injury. And as my massage therapist Helga was working through my corpulence to get to the root of my injury, I found myself fantasizing about her working through my corpulence to get to my root.

Now, I haven’t been to an AMP in a long time. The so-called ‘massage parlor’ where the massage was just a pretense for the happy ending. The rub n’ tug joint. But that’s often the first entry into the “hobby” most guys have. There seems to be a progression. From strip club to massage parlors to escorts.

I spent a lot of time exploring strip clubs. I remember one stretch of highway in my hometown where there were about a half a dozen strip clubs of varying degrees of class and quality. I would start at one end of the road with the dark, dank dive bar; the one with the pool table and the lackluster stripper with the Harley-Davidson tattoo across her chest. Then I’d move on to the one with the strobe lights and the glittery swing on stage. I’d end up at the far end of the spectrum at the Showgirls-esque club with featured “acts.”

Yeah... it was just like that

True story: I saw a featured stripper there who had a whole ‘nautical’ act. She had props and costumes, all in a vague naval theme. Sailor cap, cutaway bellbottoms, anchors. Sexy anchors. She danced a set to songs like “Blue, Navy Blue” and “Sea Cruise.” Hot.

But eventually, as most guys do, I grew tired of the ‘look don’t touch’ aspect of the clubs and started looking for more.  My hometown had lingerie modeling joints. You’d pay your door fee, go into a small room, “get comfortable,” and a ‘model’ would pose in scanty lingerie. Of course, for an additional tip she would, y’know… do things. From there, I progressed to cruising the boulevard for streetwalkers, always more afraid of them than they were of me.

Fast forward to the internet age and here I am, a grizzled veteran of the online hooker review boards.

What I am is what I am.

So what would lead an otherwise happily married man with 3 kids, a dog and a fish, a happy home in the suburbs and a  minivan in the garage to go cruising for strippers and hookers?

Ask any “hobbyist” and you’ll hear a litany of excuses, usually centering around the failings of their wives. The conventional wisdom is that if they were getting it at home they wouldn’t need to look  for it on the street. Well, sure, it’s not their fault, it’s their wives. Look, way back when, as I was driving up and down the streets at midnight, picking up scrawny girls for quickie handjobs in my car, I had a freaky, sexy, willing girlfriend waiting at home for me. And when I say freaky, I mean choking, slapping, swinging freaky. She was totally hot, totally willing and totally available. Yet I was fascinated by the world of sex out there.

I’m no saint, never claimed to be. Nice guy? I try. I have to try. Being an asshole is effortless. I’ve been fucking hookers of all stripes for years, with no end in sight. And it’s not, never has been, because of a failing on the part of my partner. It’s me.

This is what those guys slapping each other on the back about banging hookers won’t admit. They like fucking hookers. They would be fucking hookers if they were single. They would be fucking hookers if they were married to sex kittens. They would be fucking hookers if they were married to other hookers. The guys who spend hour after hour after hour online looking for hookers, flirting with hookers, making dates with hookers and writing reviews of fucking hookers… yeah, those guys re only doing it because the cold, distant, harpies they’re married to won’t blow them anymore. Right?

I don’t —we don’t– pay for pussy because the wife won’t pay attention. That’s just another deflection. Another way of placing blame with someone else. Another way of absolving ourselves of responsibility for our own actions. Hey, it’s not my fault I pay to get my dick sucked, it’s yours! Well, guess what? That’s bullshit. It’s my dick, and it’s entirely up to me who I stick it in.

Yeah, there are miserable, shrewish, frigid wives. There are wives who don’t like sex. There are wives who are emasculating bitches. And it’s still your choice to seek out strange pussy. You don’t do it because of the wife, the kids, the job. You do it because you like pussy, all kinds of pussy. The key indicator is that most of us “hobbyists” don’t just quietly, discreetly see the occasional paid companion to while away an hour or two of shared intimacy. The hardcore “hobbyist” has made the flirting, bantering, and jockeying for ‘position’ just as important as the actual in-out. You don’t spend hours chatting with hookers online because your wife won’t suck your dick. You don’t write dozens of goddam reviews highlighting your sexual prowess with hookers because your wife is too busy with the kids. And y’know what? Maybe if you didn’t spend hours chatting with hookers online your wife might be more willing to suck your dick for free.

Choke me in the shallow water, before I get too deep.

  1. Awesomely honest and well articulated post! Though, I don’t know what guys say to other guys, but every single one of my friends who’s a “hobbyist” told me pretty much the same thing you said here – they’re in it for fun & excitement of no-strings-no-expectations-attached sex with a variety of women…

  2. bitch says:

    I disagree. The blamegame you describe is a sign of closet homosexuality. If they just liked pussy, the boards would not be the cesspools of misogyny that they are. These guys hate pussy, the boards just allow them to immerse in veiled converations about other guys dicks while ostensibly maintaining the fragile illusion of heterosexuality. I say ostensibly because they aren’t really fooling anybody, least of all the ladies, which is why the Thinking Man’s Whore always carries an extra condom to cover her strap-on cock…or so I heard.

  3. Ball Smack says:

    Wow. I shouldn’t reply to this thread, but I have to. I guess. Stop hating on everybody and go eat a vag or suck a dick or whatever your preference may be. No one cares. Your Bill Dubya campaign isn’t fooling anyone and twits like you will continue to ruin what he was striving for.

    Please stop trying to ruin his mission because you feel let down.

  4. Bitch says:

    http://www.freedictionary.com/overcompensation I don’t just make this shit up, ya know. bwaaaah ha ha ha haaa!!! 😀

  5. Bitch says:

    What, nothing? Too bad about your back injury. You should really invest in a wheelbarrow to carry that massive gut around when you aren’t using it to smother some whore.

  6. Bitch says:

    Omg google Man Calls Cops Because Sexy Dancer Was Too Old! Normally this brand of douchebaggery is confined to the Alerts forum of your local beloved Doucheboard. “I decided after paying that she was too old, so that means she robbed me and I called cops on that thieving whore!” and the douchearmy would all hassle her. But now hobbyist douchebaggery is national news. Nice! Cool cops though, to laugh it off. Thought you might get a chuckle.

  7. […] mailbag one day to find this waiting for me from some disgruntled fan calling himself  ”Ball Smack” from Kansas, writing from what has every appearance of being a bogus e-mail address. My new […]

  8. Roger McArthuc says:

    Hours a night chatting online to hookers?? Good grief…is this what some guys do? I’m 45 and in a state of desperation (sexless marriages with young kids actually do exist) sought the services of a young lady 7 months ago. I’ve seen her a total of 3 times, and I’ll keep seeing her every month or two until she becomes unavailable. Why pay for it? The answer is easy, a 45 year old man doesn’t have sex and intimate conversations with a 20 year old catwalk model university student with an interest in classical literature and an IQ of 150 (I could go on)…unless he pays for it. I thought that this was what escorts were about for all men. Thanks for opening my eyes. I don’t think I’m in any danger of an addiction. Always a 1 woman man really (yes, they really do exist) – but happened on your site whilst trying to find out a little more about this business that I’ve found myself buying. But then, you are in the USA…I’m in Australia. Very different ethos. Legal, so there is no messing around. You call or email, you don’t come across as an idiot, you have a 4/5 star hotel income…she’s there…easy as that. Maybe it is something about the USA itself that promotes these secret obsessions?