On the verge of virginity

Just like any other night

It was late on a Saturday night, I was pulling out of the parking lot after work. As I sped off onto the highway a feeling of being trapped and unfulfilled began to hit me like a tidal wave – I swear the only time I feel alive is when I'm looking at beautiful women, I just wanted one I could experience physically. White-knuckled on my way home I rolled down the windows to vent the smell of grease, lit a cigarette and turned up the radio to try to drown out my thoughts. I was starting to believe the rest of my life was going to consist of making burgers 10-12 hours a day, and then coming home to an empty house, or at the very least a home without a woman.

Upon arriving home all I could do was pace, my stomach was yelling for food, but I was a rather picky eater and often found myself staring at a fridge full of food craving some sort of fast food–I usually had to be pretty consumed with hunger to make a compromise. I wish there were food pellets, or some sort of vitamin supplement that would just keep a man nourished and full for up to eight hours. So there I was starving, and irrational, just pacing back and forth, thinking about gorgeous women and my eventual future which would most likely not include any of them—except maybe as a casual acquaintance. I thought long and hard about the idea of enrolling back in school and finding a career to consume my time, I'm sure being lonely with a career has to be better than being lonely with a dead-end job. Still there was this thought in my mind that maybe I could find a way to get a bit of instant gratification tonight, it had lingered for months now and I knew that I wouldn't be able to sleep until I at least gave it a shot.

My nerves were on end, I had never paid for sex before, but it definitely seemed like an agreeable arrangement to me. There was even something dominant about being able to pay for sex, I felt like I was in control of my own destiny tonight, no longer lying around whining about the weight of the world, it was absolutely intoxicating. Finally I felt like I'd be able to dominant a female, I had never really been able to indulge in this particular pleasure to the extent that I was about to, because I either respected the woman I was with too much, or I was just too god damn shy to really dominate her—besides it wasn't exactly like I've had hundreds of women in my bed to really get the hang of fucking. I walked into the convenience store, and marched towards the ATM. I had been putting some money aside every week in the unlikely event that I was able to get a date, finally there was some sort of date to use it for, at least it seemed appropriate to me. I wasn't booking the whole night just half an hour, it had been nearly two years since my last lay, so I figured lasting half an hour to get my money's worth would be the real challenge. I pictured myself as a sadistic rabid wolf, I had been kicked out the pack for my illness, and now I was about to feed for the first time as a lone wolf.

The address was easy to find, but there was nowhere to park out front. I had to cruise the alleyway before I could find an empty space. It was thrilling, there was the possibility I could be robbed, or even worse, but there was something inside that had abandoned rational thought. An animalistic state of mind took over, a mental "tunnel vision" so to speak. I decided to taste one more cigarette before encountering whatever was going to happen behind that paint chipped door. My heart was pumping so fast, if all went well, this could be a new hobby I thought, at the very least until the thrill happened to drain my bank account, get me killed, or dwindle—the most unlikely one of them all. I crushed the cigarette underneath my foot, there was at least half of it left, but like a child on Christmas morning I just couldn't wait to find out what was under the tree.

She answered the door, and I really took her in. Big brown eyes, Brunette hair, and a body that may have caused me to drool a bit. She wasn't the overly perfect classic pornstar, she was more of girl next door type—very real and very beautiful. I believe her advertisement had said something like, "34 C cutie, petite with a spankable booty" she certainly was that, not overly toned, but a solid affordable 8. I think she said her name started with an "M." To be honest I was kind of shocked that there wasn't any sort of pimp or security personnel at all, but then again I wasn't really sure what to expect, hell I was half expecting to be robbed and left for dead. She asked me my name, I told her it was "Steve" because I wanted to keep my identity secret, besides I wasn't really looking for any new friends. We exchanged a couple greetings, then she took my hand and escorted me downstairs to a small room that contained only a bed, a dresser, a few slutty outfits laid out on the floor, and a television boasting an orgy. She turned off the television, she made it clear that she was firm with her original price—I wondered if she was constantly bartering before-hand. I paid her, she put the money on the dresser and undressed.

This was it, everything I had been anticipating for as long as I could remember. Finally I had an attractive woman naked before me, ready and willing to be taken for a ride. Things were looking up. I pumped and pumped away at her, trying to savor each stroke, but she just laid there like a corpse. Typical, women just couldn't be paid enough to find me sexually intriguing, I am and will always just be some short, ugly, asexual moron to them, like they can't even picture me with genitals. It was like a curse, every women was beautiful and attractive in her own way, and I yearned for them all for different reasons, but they just couldn't find one about me. I became enraged, bent her over the bed and really let her have it, spanking her ass red and pulling her hair. I was going to fuck her into falling in love with me, and leave her by the roadside, that's what an attractive man would do, a man with prospects, a man with opportunities. I was that man. I was the man, and she was going to feel every inch of my power throbbing through her. I felt ten feet tall towering over that fine specimen of the female form, there was a blinding sensation of rage, excitement, justification, and I began to slow down to catch my breath for a final finale of thrusts—besides I had been staring at the clock for the entire time, and there were only five minutes left to spare. She looked back and tried to give me a sexy face, but I'm sure she was just looking back to see if I was done, to see if she could finally roll over, get dressed, and get this horrific ordeal over with. That whore.... So I pulled out and came on her chest.

On the way home I didn't feel much better, but I wasn't thinking about trying to get another hooker. I thought about the idea of emotional attachment