Where it happened: House of Ill Repute
Langauge: English
Sex: Male
Rating: 10
Category: Straight
Okay, it was the mid-70’s, and it seemed like everyone was having sex but me. I was a skinny, shy kid who found it difficult to communicate with girls. I’m not sure if young girls are the same now, but it seemed then, that if any of my friends had a girlfriend, she was putting him through all kinds of torturous head games, just to get a little. My need was great (embarrassingly so, now in retrospect), and I didn’t have the time or the money to cultivate one of the high school head cases.
I got a part-time job in a restaurant for $2.15 an hour, and managed to scrape up a few bucks after a while. I lived about 2 miles from a seedy part of Aurora Avenue in Seattle, that had a couple businesses where you could hire a girl for a “private dance”. These places were probably mobbed up, but are long gone now.
One Friday or Saturday night, I mustered up my courage and my horniness, and ventured into one. Embarrassed, I told no one my plans, not even my best friend. Looking back, if something had gone horribly sideways, no one would have even known where to look for my body. I remember it was a cold Spring night. I had on a heavy coat and tan, leather boots.
I walked into the vestibule, and there were about ten different girls in their 20’s, sitting on chairs along the wall. The lights were low, and mostly red. All were dressed in short skirts or something that crossed the line between livingroom and bedroom clothing. There was a trucker-looking guy just coming out of a room with a black girl, saying, “Thanks & see you next time”, and giving her a kiss on the cheek.
A cute brunette, about 23, with long hair past her shoulders, said, “Hello”, and asked if I wanted a “dance”. I numbly nodded, and she told me that I could pick any girl, and it would be $40 for an hour, to be placed on the coffee table in the middle of the room. That was a princely sum to me back then, but I did as I was told and picked her, being the first girl of course to speak to me.
She led me into one of the smaller, windowless rooms that contained a chair and a raised platform, covered in the same shag carpeting as the rest of the room. The dim light came from a red bulb in here, also. She told me to make myself comfortable, so I removed my coat and sat in the chair. “No,” she said. “I mean ‘comfortable'”, and started taking off her clothes. I followed suit, trying desperately not to let on that I had never seen an actual naked woman in person. I laid down on the platform, and she asked what I was interested in. I wasn’t sure what she meant, so I think I said something like, “You.” She kind of smirked, and said, “I hope this doesn’t shock you,” and proceeded to take my virgin cock in her mouth. To this day, I cannot recall ever receiving a more gentle and tender blowjob.
After a few minutes, she rose and asked if I’d like to fuck her? Uh, yeah! She laid on her back, and I got on top. She took my cock and expertly guided it into her. I moved back and forth for a few awkward minutes. I had no idea what to do with my hands, so I just stupidly rolled a lock of her hair between my thumb and forefinger. Finally I came after what was probably less than 5 minutes, and was a bit shocked when I pulled out to see that I somehow, magically, was wearing a condom. I never even felt her roll it on. So cute, experienced, and smart!
As I was getting dressed, she asked, “So how old are you?”
I didn’t want to sound as pathetic as I really felt, so I lied and said, “Eighteen.” She nodded, and seemed satisfied with that.
In reality, I was still one week shy of my 16th birthday. Had the cops busted in the door, as I was fearing, she probably would have been in much more trouble than I.
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