Luke was bright, successful sophomore engineering student. And he was a virgin. But, I repeat myself.
Seriously, for all the incessant talking Luke and his buddies did about sex, very few of them had experienced the infinite joys of a woman firsthand. There were even geeky mock engineering equations involving sex.
“The heat of the meat is equal to the angle of the dangle divided by the mass of the ass.”
Cute, right? No, it was not cute. This was exactly the kind of nerdy shit that kept them all virgins. It was as if proficiency in Calculus was a deadly disease, sexually transmitted, and all women had the innate ability to see which men had it and stay away.
The ratio of male to female students was something like 30-to-1 in Luke’s small engineering school. What that meant in practice was that every female was already partnered with a male engineering student. There was no female engineer so aesthetically blighted as to not be able to have her pick of the male engineers. It was like a game of musical chairs with 500 participants and only 16 chairs. The music had stopped, and Luke did not have a chair.
Not that he was a horrible looking sort of person. Yeah, he was an engineering geek, but he had a nice mop of dark hair, no acne, and bright ice blue eyes. He had a non-athletic body, with some “baby fat” still clinging to his abdomen, butt, and face. Old lady friends of his mom might think he was cute, but as to girls his own age? Not so much.
Now in the interest of full disclosure, Luke was not actually a virgin. He had paid twice for hookers in New York City. All his other sexual experiences were with his right hand. Or, occasionally his left hand. As Woody Allen famously said, “Masturbation is sex with someone you love.”
The first hooker, he wasn’t even looking for. It was the very day he’d got back to NYC for his sophomore year of school. He was just walking along a few streets north of 42nd, and a terrifically stacked blonde girl, about his same age or a few years older stopped him and said:
“Looking for a date?”
“Ummm … sure, okay,” Luke had said, flustered.
She took him into the building she’d been standing in front of, and led him down a dark hall. Outside another door, a tall, heavy, bald guy was standing with is arms crossed, looking menacing. He stepped aside right after Luke’s new blonde friend made eye contact with him.
“I’m Candy. It’s 60 for oral, 100 for short time, 200 for long time,” the blonde rehearsed from rote.
Luke only had about $80, so he indicated that oral would be fine.
He set the money on a table where Candy had pointed, and she bade him lie back on what looked like a massage table or high cot, made up with sheets and blankets. He lay face up with his head on the pillow.
“Well?” Candy asked, waiting for Luke to pull his pants down.
“Oh,” said Luke, finally realizing that it was his turn to do something.
He hadn’t had his trousers and underwear pulled down for 10 seconds before Candy was leaning over him, reeling his entire flaccid cock into his mouth. He hardened to full erection almost immediately; it had been Ataşehir Escort a long time since he’d jerked off. Once he was hard, Candy really got down to business. Her mouth on his virgin cock was the very best thing the young engineering student had ever felt. Way better than becoming a National Merit Finalist his senior year. Better than the scholarship to engineering school. And infinitely better than his own hand. It was ridiculous the amount of pleasure she was able to impart with her mouth and swirling tongue. And though he was not small (about 7″ and thick), Candy was effortlessly able to deepthroat him, just like the girls in the porn he liked to watch. The effect of all this was such that he came in under 45 seconds, start to finish.
“Sorry,” Candy said, expecting Luke would be mad that it hadn’t lasted longer.
But Luke wasn’t anywhere close to mad. He was overcome by ecstasy. Still, his engineering mind couldn’t help but do the calculation: $60 divided by 0.75 minutes (i.e., 45 seconds), meant that Candy’s rate for the blow job had been $80 per minute, or $4800 per hour. “Wow!” he thought, “But she was worth every bit of that!”
His second experience with a prostitute was near the end of the second semester of his Sophomore year. It had recently turned to Spring in New York, and walks in Central Park had turned his thoughts to girls again, not that they had ever really turned away. He was walking somewhere on the west side, and an older brunette, not quite his mother’s age he supposed, beckoned to him.
“Like a date?”
Suddenly, he was smitten with her. She had the white cheeks of a porcelain doll, and tattoos all over her bare arms. Here hair, now that Luke really looked, was a sort of dark mahogany with red and violet tones added in. She looked like the lead girl in a female biker gang. He thought immediately of the song “Motorcycle Irene” by the old 1960s group, Moby Grape. It had always been a favorite of his, and now here she was, right before his eyes.
“There she sits a-smokin’, reefer in her mouth;
Her hair hanging northward as she travels south.
Dirty, on her Harley (but her nails are clean) …
Super-powered, de-flowered over-eighteen Irene.
“I’ve seen her in the bare, where her tattoos and her chains
Wrap around her body where written are the names
Of prisons she’s been in and lovers she has seen …
Curve-winding, bump ‘n’ grindin’, Motorcycle Irene.”
“Yes,” Luke said, finally collecting himself enough to answer. “Yes, ma’am, I would like a date.”
“Knock off that ‘ma’am’ crap, okay? Geez.”
“Sorry,” Luke said as he followed her into a seedy looking hotel. She had him sign in the guest register and told him what name to put down, “Mr. and Mrs. James Smith.”
Luke was pretty sure that the weathered and age-wisened old man behind the bulletproof plexiglass window knew that they weren’t Mr. and Mrs. Anything. But he only said,
“That’ll be 20 for the room plus 15 key deposit. You have 30 minutes.”
Luke fiddled endlessly in his pocket looking for a ten and a five before just handing the Anadolu Yakası Escort man two twenty dollar bills. The mad didn’t even look up from his crossword puzzle as he palmed a 5 note and passed in under the thick window to Luke.
“C’mon, honey. I’m Giselle. And you are?”
“Try not to be nervous, honey. The whole point of this is to have fun, right?”
“Right,” Luke agreed.
The room that Giselle led him to was depressingly dingy. There was an old busted up armoire with a few empty clothes hangers in it. One door was totally off of it, and the other was hanging by one screw of the upper hinge. There was a low, military style cot with a dingy striped sheet draped over it. The mattress felt to be made of hay.
“$140 for everything but anal, until you cum. Okay”
“Sure,” Luke replied. He put seven $20 bills on the rickety nightstand by the bed. It was exactly what he had left in his wallet, so surely that was some kind of sign.
Giselle was hastily discarding her garments. She left on a cute, sexy little lace brassiere, and her high heeled stiletto shoes, which were black. Her pussy hair matched her shoes, though there was not much of it. She had trimmed it to a neat little landing strip. Luke had never seen any such thing before, and found it hard to look away. Giselle flopped onto the bed on her back and looked up at him.
“Well?” she asked. And Luke realized that he needed to get undressed. He stripped all the way down and then put his left knee on the antiquated cot, causing it to sag noticeably. His right foot remained on the splintery wood floor. He started to reach under her right bra cup to get at her nipple. She deftly flipped unhinged the brassiere at the front, between the cups, grabbed it with his right hand and tossed it into the corner of the room. Now he had access to her milky white tits.
“She must never go out in the sun,” Luke thought. But her nipples were a rich dark brown, and were quite large, and the color contrast fascinated him to no end as he began to knead them. Giselle was ripping open an condom and putting it on Luke’s now hardening cock. After it was on, she started stroking him back and forth until he was massively erect and ready to go. She then guided his cock toward her amazing mature pussy with her right hand. But he still had one foot on the ground.
“I think you’re gonna have to get all the way up on the bed to make this work,” Giselle said. Luke couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic or not. But she just seemed mildly impatient. He moved his left knee to the other side of her on the narrow cot, and put his right knee down outside her left thigh. She quickly guided his member into her moist snatch (to which she must have applied some kind of lube while Luke wasn’t looking – it was wet and glistening) and finally in. He sunk right in to the hilt on his first stroke and started to pick out a rhythm. When he had settled into a rhythm, the older brunette matched his pace, grinding her pelvis into his to make the impacts more forceful. He was encouraged to fuck harder. Remembering Candy and the 45-second blow job, Kartal Escort he was determined to make this current pleasure last longer. So, he tried to think of things other than how hot Giselle looked under him, with her breasts knocking together every time his balls slapped up against her. He picked a number at random, 32579 and tried to determine its prime factors. That worked perfectly to keep him away from the edge of orgasm.
It did not occur to the young engineering student until sometime the next day that economic and other considerations did not favor Giselle wanting him to take up the full 30 minutes for which he had paid for the room. Sure, the crossword puzzle guy at the desk was fine with him taking 30 minutes, but Giselle was hoping for something more like 4 minutes. So, while, Luke thought everything was going like gangbusters for his first time fucking a woman, Giselle said:
“This doesn’t seem to be working for you. How ’bout I get on top.”
Luke was cook with that. He withdrew from her and switched places with her. With is back directly on the mattress (although perhaps that is too kind a word for what it was), he could feel how bad it was. Hay or straw or excelsior packed into a mattress case, atop a lattice of springs, some of which seemed definitely to be missing. But Giselle helped him pop his cock back inside her, and soon he was banging her again.
In this new position, several things worked to make him reach orgasm faster. First, in the commotion of the switch, he’d forgotten both his original number and the prime factors he had already extracted. Second, in this position Giselle’s marvelous white tits and large dusky nipples hung down directly in his face. With gravity working to extend rather than compress them, the woman’s breasts just looked absolutely fantastic to Luke. He was very hard and very close to orgasm. Then, too, being on top Giselle could control the depth and speed of his penetration. He pretty much had to go at her pace, which pushed him very close to the edge. Finally, in this position, both his hands were free to grab the cheeks of her exquisite milk-white ass. Those two perfect globes, grabbed in the palms of his greedy hands and sending pleasing neurological impulses along his spine to his brain … well that just did it. He started gushing jet after jet of cum into her. It was even more satisfying than the blow job he’d had from Candy last fall. He couldn’t think of anything in his life to rival it. He estimated 12 minutes of bliss. And, again, more than worth the price.
“Maybe see you again?” Giselle said to her satisfied customer.
“Sure, I hope so!” Luke answered. But he knew the odds were slim. He just had three more final exams, then he’d be gone, home for the Summer. The chances of seeing her in the Fall seemed pretty slim. But she had been really nice to him, and for the rest of his life, he would carry her words with him, treasured up in his heart:
“I think you’re gonna have to get all the way up on the bed to make this work.”
Back at school, studying and later packing to go home, he thought of how great sex was, and wondered what he could do to get women to actually like him enough to have sex with him, with no money changing hands. Sure, he was still chubby and awkward in his ways. He was still a Math and Science geek. But there had to be something he could do. All the way home, he thought about what that might be.