Our anonymous author, who we'll call Torsten Nobir here, is all about sex. This time he gives us an intimate insight into his first experience with a male escort.
Male escort: The desire for sex without any fuss
The last time I spontaneously thought to myself: Today I'm spending a hundred euros on a massage and a fuck - without anything in return, without searching and lengthy agreements, without compromises. So I go through all the "HUNQZ" offering their services on Planetromeo. The thumbnails look pretty hot. I'm looking for a hands-on, active guy. I want him to knead my whole body first, make me forget everything, enjoy and then fuck me until he comes.
Booking an escort: Between desire and doubt
I can be with you in an hour; I’ll bring the cash with me. Please have a shower beforehand. A 26-year-old Latino, slim, smooth skin, nice arse. I message him, taking another look at his abs. There’s still something youthful about him, but his cock is really massive and fully grown. I get straight to the point with this sort of thing: „Hi, how much does an hour cost with a massage, a blowjob and you fucking me?“ – „100 euros. I’m available at the Sansibar Hotel.“ – A hotel in Nordstadt, all right, I’m getting more and more turned on: „I can be with you in an hour; I’ll bring the cash with me. Please have a shower beforehand.“
I drive off, take a taxi and ask myself: Is this something stupid I'm doing? I'm pretty young for a hustler, aren't I? Of course, I'm totally liberal when it comes to prostitution - sexwork is work too and so on - but when it affects you, you start to have doubts. I go there anyway.
Sex work, cash and a queasy feeling
Arriving at the hotel, I pay the taxi driver for his services and look at the large Hotel Sansibar. It's early evening and the hotel looks strangely grey. Not a hot boy to be seen - I get out of the car and walk towards the hotel. And sure enough, the door opens, but it's just a well-pimped lady who hurries off down the pavement unnoticed. I wait a few minutes, probably only three, but they feel like 20. You idiot, I thought to myself, you've been taken for a ride - stupid idea!
And a man comes up to me from the side: "Hi!" Me: "Hi." It's not the one I'd booked. This was someone with a small gap between his front teeth, very muscular and in his early thirties. Also a hot guy, no question, but... I follow him to the hotel. To the hotel next door, to be precise. Not the Sansibar, whose address he, or rather the HUNQ that I had actually booked, had given me in the chat. So into the pub next door, past the demonstratively disinterested receptionist and up to the second floor. My counterpart compliments me on my clothes and we enter a hotel room.
Not the man who was booked
I look around the small hotel room and ask myself: Am I going to be robbed? Or will the guy I've booked come round the corner? Probably not: there's no corner here - just a narrow bunk bed. I briefly think that my dream partner is lying up there, hiding, jumping up and down like a cake; I look over the edge of the bed, but there's no one there. Just the fucker with the gap in his teeth in front of me.
He undresses, slams himself down on the bed - I do the same and wait on my stomach for the massage. But nothing of the sort follows, instead he slaps my arse once with the flat of his hand. How sensual. Freed from the thought that I'm about to get a massage, I start to suck his sizeable cock, which then gets half hard. Then I lie down on my back: let him fuck me, I tell him. His half-stiff cock penetrated me unsatisfactorily like a piece of warm butter. He flexed his pecs and biceps, but apart from that it was a really lame act.
When the escort experience ends differently than expected
I laid him on his back, sat on his penis and jerked off. After I had cum, he was visibly relieved that his work was done. I've had better sex, but at least I'm one experience wiser. The next time I book an escort, I'll behave like I would in a restaurant and leave the dish if I get something other than what I ordered.
