Ah, the things we do for money. They say that "money is the root of all evil." Maybe that's so. What kinds dastardly deeds have you engaged in for a buck or two? Confess your dollar driven sins with us here and now.

New Secret Account

So I've been reading these confessions while playing with my pussy for years. Figured I would start sharing some of my own secrets. I've always loved being naughty and taking nudes. To everyone who knows me I seem sweet and innocent but really I have an insatiable sex drive at times. I've met up for hook ups and had men cumming to my pictures all over the world. I'm an ebony bbw with huge 46DD tits and I love the idea of turning men on. I just made an OF account in anyone wants to see me showing off

He Was 72, I Was 16

If someone randomly comes up behind you and says, "Are you a prostitute?", and you're not, then what would you do? Slap him and leave, ignore him, create a ruckus or call for help? I know a few friend of mine who would just play along to see what happens. But this isn't her story.

This happened to me when I was 16. I broke up with my boyfriend a few weeks ago, and wasn't handling it very well. My friend dragged me to a nightclub we frequented to let off some steam. In case you're wondering, we used to fake our way in at that time. We had done it before. Anyway, a couple of hours of drinking and dancing later, I had to go pee. After I came out, I got out out for some fresh air. That's when an old guy, who was apparently watching me for a while, came near and asked me, "Excuse me! Are you the prostitute?" I gave him a weirded out look and went back inside and told my friend. She laughed and said, "Why don't we say yes and ask how much is he willing to pay for both of us" She was kidding, of course! We laughed about it and another hour later, she was making out with her boyfriend, and I went out again for some space.


I saw the old man pacing up and down the corridor and he began to leave when he saw me. Maybe I was just too drunk, but I decided to approach him. And I did. He apologized for what he said and kept apologizing straight for 15 minutes. I asked him to calm down and got him talking. He was a 72 year old gramps, with thick glasses, liver spots and all, who was scammed by a website offering escort services. He was asked to wait at the corridor to meet a girl who would be dressed in pink shorts and a black crop top. My dress had him confused that's all.

However drunk as I may have been, I knew what I was doing. And after I heard his story for a while, I felt the urge to tell him that I was indeed her. I wasn't, of course, but I was probably in a strangely playful mood. Call it being 16, drunk and horny, but after stopping myself a couple of times, I blurted it out, "I'm the girl! I was just making sure you're not a cop."

And my night's destiny changed! The gramps beamed with joy and asked me if I wanted the money now. I took it. It was quite a sum. I then asked him where did he want to do it? A few minutes later, I was walking down the quite street with him, texting my friend that I had left with another friend of mine. To be honest, I was shit scared at what I was doing. The old man lived nearby and we talked and walked to his apartment. It was a small one bedroom home in a run-down building.

After we entered his apartment, he closed the door and pinned me against it and began kissing me sloppily. His hands were all over the place, finding their way to grab my breasts and feel my pussy. From there, he took me to the bedroom and we had sex. I remember him eating me out and fucking me for about 5 minutes and cumming inside. As I sat on the bed wiping myself between my legs and processing what I just did, he told me his whole life story. An hour later, we fucked a second time. It was short too, but this time, the gramps wanted me to ride him. It ended the same way. I blew him for a while, rode him for a few minutes and he was already ready for bed.

The next day, after I sobered up, I thought of telling him the truth. But I didn't. He asked me for my number, but I made up some excuse to not share it. He offered me some more cash, if I gave him a quicky before I left. A quicky he said! All he could do were quickies anyway. I felt sorry for him (after hearing about his life story the night before, which was quite sad to be honest). So, we had a 'quicky' in his shower. I was sober now, so I asked him to pull out. After the shower, I ate some breakfast which he prepared and left.

To this date I wonder what happened to him. I missed my period the next month and thought I was pregnant. False alarm...but was I scared shitless. So....did this make me an escort? I took his money after all. Did I need it? What's 'need' anyway, but a guiltless 'want'! So I suppose I did it for the money after all!

Age Isn't Just A Number

I am hooked up with a man that I have a 9 year old daughter with. He has no money issues. When I met him I was a personal trainer and he had a membership there. I was so broke that he broke down my will to resist. I had his daughter not too much later.

He is a lot older, 22 years older, and I am totally dependent. Also sex for me is unfulfilling, I am more adventurous but he doesn't want me to be one of those women. He does care for me, but our age difference gets in the way. He doesn't approve of my friends and his friends bore me. My daughter has everything but a sibling. Which I have to do because he is already over 50.

I have waited to get married but he isn't interested, he doesn't see why. I know I am common law married but the paper would get me pregnant pretty fast. Either way I need to get this baby started because my daughter is already 9 years old.

I kid him to get me pregnant tied to the bed, to which I get the look.

Split Personality, Daddy's Little Girl

I am a 24 year old lesbian living in Austin, Texas, on and off college student. Two years ago I was working waitressing and I got drawn into a conversation with an older man eating alone. He got me to tell him I was couch surfing and my car had died a miserable death. He waited for me to get off and walked up to me at the bus stop and showed me his DL giving me his name and told me he liked baby girls and nothing made him happier than looking after a baby.

Puke! He offered to put me in an apartment, help me go to school, loan me a car, all I had to do was be his baby girl and let him take care of me. Puke!, except I talked to him, accepted a ride to my friends place, he walked in with me, it was pretty bad and he told me to get my stuff and he was taking me to his place.

Two years, I have to sleep with him, he holds me when he is deep in me and asks me if I love my Daddy. If I am his baby girl. Puke! I can't stop myself, I repeat over and over that I'm his baby girl, and that I love my Daddy. Puke, double puke! When I am not in his arms I can't imagine calling him Daddy, but when he pulls me towards him to penetrate me I start asking him if he loves his little girl. I call him Daddy, I snuggle in his arms.

Brain and feelings are not working, it is stupid he is not my father, but he is my Daddy. Two years, college is coming along, I live with him. I stopped seeing my girlfriend six months ago, she just pukes when she hears me call him Daddy or refer to myself as his baby girl.

At First

I was 14, swimming in the neighbors pool with him and his wife. He and I went into the bedroom to change out of our swim trunks and into regular clothes. She was making some sandwiches in her bikini. Once we were naked he showed me pictures of her totally naked, some with a very heavy creampie. I got hard he massaged it and he turned around and I humped at his butt and shot off. Next he lubed me, bent me over and fucked me. When we went to the kitchen I had a load of his sperm up my butt. I sat there leaking into my undies, and her bikini was sliding down, her husband helped and I got to see her butt and tits in real life not just pictures.

After that, he said he'd give me $20 if I let him do it to me again. I did, he wanted more, and I gave it to him as well as blowjobs. I got $20 each time, even $10 extra when he blew me. He introduced me to a few others. Mostly older men, most married to women but who wanted to fuck a young male. I got between $20 and $ 50 each time I got fucked or gave a BJ. One of the men who was gay, not married at all, let me fuck him. That was my first time having sex as a top with anyone. I loved the feel of it. I went back to him a lot and didn't charge him for what he wanted to do to me.

I did that all the way to today. I still let men fuck me for money. I drive a really nice car, I fuck guys and girls, and love it when I fuck a girl right after I've had a paid date and have cum in my ass.

  • My Family Needs The Money Right Now

    Backstory, I was born in Wilmington N.C., my parents have three daughters of which I am the oldest. My mother had breast cancer and a double mastectomy. My father's job furloughed him in June. Right now I'm the only one with a job. I started prostituting after my father lost his job. In college I helped pay for college as a dancer and part time prostitute in a club. I have actually given it to a woman, she tipped me.

    My mother believes I have a real good job, my sisters look up to me, my father is embarrassed that I have to send him money. I like sex with strangers, it's like one night stands except I get paid for it. I really liked the woman, I want more of that. Bottom line I am a whore and a slut.

    Sorry Mommy, once I get some time off I'll try to go home to see you.

    Back Then

    I was and still am a slight built guy. Thin, with waist indented from my hips and chest, had long hair for many years, I was very short and only weighed about 135 at 15 years old. I was with some older boys for the afternoon, running around in a car. We ended up near some woods, and it was there that they laid me down and made me have sex. I had to suck each of them to hardness (1 came in my mouth the first time) then they all took turns fucking me. There were 5 of them and they took some pictures of me. I was forced to be their fuck dates whenever they picked me up. Sometimes it was individually, sometimes the whole group, sometimes one or two of them with other guys that weren't part of the original 5. That first time I got fucked 9 times, and three times got it in my mouth to swallow.

    Eventually I told this 40 year old guy I did pool work for. He said he'd give me $20 if I sucked him off. So I did it. The next day he fucked me for $ 50. From him and some of his friends, I was soon making a couple hundred dollars a week, sometimes more. Then one married guy who's family was out of town had me over to his place. He laid out underwear, and a mini-skirt with white blouse, blue satin panties with matching bra and thigh high stockings. They belonged to his daughter, whom I knew from school. I used some lipstick and a little makeup and while he fucked me and I was sucking him he kept calling me by his daughters name. I didn't care, and I repeated this often for him, with my own girl clothes and undies many times. He paid a lot more. Then I would charge more for crossdressing and making up for men. Though I was still getting my ass pried open by the older guys at school, eventually most of them went to college and there was only 2 or 3 who didn't have wives or girlfriends and kept using me as their sexual outlet. So mostly, if was paying customers. In the three years I did it, I only had 4 guys who wanted me to fuck them. That was my first time having sex being the top. I did love it, but loved the money I got for being a gurly bottom.

    In college, I met a great girl, 2 years older than me, and she and I started having sex. She's the only sex I've had since meeting her. We are married with 2 kids and she's as slim and pretty and firm as the day we met. She has no idea how a Jr. in college could have bought his own house. No one knows except my old customers. She has no idea that I was a crossdresser whore for horny boys and men.

    Sleeping My Way Through Probate Court

    I never met my dad. He died at the age of 72 when I was three years old and I have no memory of him. My parents separated when I was about a year old and mom wanted a divorce and my father didn't being Catholic. But then he died and in our state, the wife gets everything. Mom later told me that she almost missed out as the pre nup said she would only get one house worth about a million and alimony in the amount of $10k a month. Yes that's a lot for most people but Mom isn't most people.

    Mom inherited about sixty times what she would have gotten in a divorce.

    That wasn't enough for Mom. a year after my father dies she had a whirlwind romance with a man three times her age who was far wealthier than my father had been. This guy was worth hundreds of millions of dollars, was a foreigner and even had a title of nobility and a coat of arms and a castle and everything. Basically he was three levels down from a prince. His great grandfather lost all their money and sold the family castle to pay bills but this guy started his own business, mad a fortune and bought back the family castle, had it restored then added a few hundred acres to the estate just for extra credit. he also owned an Island in the south pacific and a yacht to drive back and forth in. Oh and an airplane and a helicopter.

    I think Mom made cash register sounds when she met him. My step dad was a really nice guy who knew Mom married him for his money but didn't care. He got to spend the rest of his life fucking a hot woman with the looks of a supermodel. Mom didn't care that he occasionally slept around because she was in love with his money not him. He had a nice trophy wife to show off to everyone, a status symbol in his circle. Mom got to inherit everything when he died and he adopted me to boot so if she went first, unlikely then I get everything as he has no other kids or siblings and his parents are long dead. he has a couple of distant cousins he hasn't seen in years. So he was the only Dad I knew until he died when i was 12.

    Mom was in mourning for about a year (for show) and then met a cute young stud who turned out to be very wealthy and had cancer, Mom's favorite combination. Mom was pushing forty by then and the young stud in question was a really hot looking 23 year old guy who had a billion dollar trust fund that would go to his widow if he married. He married, mom.

    So I was 14 by then and he had a year to live though we didn't know it at the time. Mom knew he had cancer when they met but everyone thought he had a few years as it wasn't supposed to be fast progressing and supposedly it was normally easy to treat but it was stubborn and my 2nd adopted Dad died when I was 15. This left Mom officially a billionaire and she has since added a zero to that number through very wise investments.

    When I was 16 I had a really cute 15 year old boyfriend who Mom had the hots for. I had a sleepover with him (Mom didn't object and for some reason neither did his parents, must have been all our loot lol). I woke up in the middle of the night to find the other half of my bed empty. so I searched my wing's upper two floors and he was no where to be found. Then I took a hike down to my mother's wing and heard noises coming from her suite and that takes a lot since the place was huge and practically sound proof. They didn't even bother closing the door. I stood there and rubbed one out while watching my 15 year old boyfriend fucking my 40 something mother and as he did he looked up at me and smiled as he discovered he had my tacit approval since I was masturbating instead of yelling at him. I had to admit, watching him fuck my mom was hot! If I didn't have an aversion to i****t I'd have dove in tongue first to see what it was like to have a vagina on one side of my tongue and a penis on the other both at the same time. But I digress.

    So my boyfriend and I sort of kind of half ass broke up. I was disappointed with myself that I didn't feel that jealous. We all agreed that mom and I would both fuck him regularly taking turns. I would watch them fuck and then the next night Mom would watch us fuck. But then I found a hotter boyfriend in his thirties though I never figured out if he was hot because of all those yummy muscles or if he was hot because of his $150 million dollars or maybe it was the Bugatti. No matter. A few months later Mom and I both got married in a double ceremony. Mom married her 16 year old fiancé and I married at 16 (a month before turning 17) to my gorgeous AND (even better) wealthy boyfriend. Oh and in case you are wondering, in that state at that time 16 was the minimum age for marriage with parent's approval. Mom eagerly approved of my marriage and her fiancé's parents, blinded by her BILLION$ of dollars, eagerly approved of his marriage to my Mom.

    Mom is still married to her young stud. He's 32 now and she's going to be 60 next month. Mom insisted the move to a state where her will overrides the law that states that the widower gets everything. So when she dies, he gets about ten million in a trust fund and two of her seven homes along with the Bugatti since he loves sports cars and she doesn't care much about them and besides it's almost 20 years old now though it only has about 12,000 miles on it. The rest goes to me but mom is very healthy and so it will probably be 20-30 years before I get all that loot.

    Meanwhile my first husband died in a boating accident five years into our marriage. His family was more upset that I got the money than that their family member had died.

    As for me, I really loved him. Not at first so much but he was really a nice guy and I hadn't really intended to divorce him like my mom kept suggesting. I still miss him. He was the only man I ever really was in love with though I'm only 32 so who knows what will happen. Honestly, since I will inherit mom's fortune anyways and I already had a trust fund to provide for me, his fortune was just frosting on the cake. Honestly, with a longer romance I'd have fallen in love with him anyways and married him if he was dirt poor. And today, if the option was available, I'd trade all my assets in AND my income to bring him back to life.

    My second husband, I married just for money and with Mom's advice. Being wealthy I go to a lot of parties where other wealthy and often celebrities hang out. This guy wasn't a celebrity but he was wealthy, quietly wealthy. Jack lived in a modest 3 bedroom house in a very nice but not necessarily affluent part of town. He was born with a diamond encrusted 24k spoon from Tiffany's in his mouth. He was the great, great, great grandson of a famous 19th century American robber baron whose name you probably heard of, his ancestor not Jack, who has a different last name.

    Jack was a nerd who was into two things, writing history text books for Ivy league universities and collecting postage stamps the likes of which most millionaires could not afford to buy. He once handed me one of his prized stamps and I looked at the little old piece of paper with someone's portrait on it and he then told me that little piece of paper was worth more than 1000 times it's weight in gold. I almost shit myself when he told me that. I mean it wasn't the idea of having something that valuable in my hands that stunned me. I had earrings worth more than that. It was the fact that it was a tiny old little scrap of paper that was worth that much. If I had seen it lying around I'd just as soon flush it down the toilet as keep it. But then I don't collect stamps. <..(continue confession)

    Not A Little Princess, But By God I'm His Wife

    Coming from where I came from I told myself that loving a rich man or loving a poor man, rich was better. I was in my early twenties working reception for a large downtown law firm. After work I went down to the Hyatt bar to get invited for drinks by rich men. Cheap watch, take a hike. Really nice watch let's talk.

    I had more than one false run, upstairs, wham bam, good night. And more than one dry run, lots of talk, daddy's weenie a disappointment. I got accused of being a hooker but I never asked for money so the Vise had to sit and watch.

    Along comes Johnny, Rolex, smart suit, expensive drinks, dinner in the main dining room, trip upstairs, his fist hit my face, breaking my nose and the orbit of my left eye. Johnny was the enforcer for the pimp that ran the downtown hotel girls. One of the lawyers at the firm kept me from being booked for prostitution, like I said I didn't charge. The Vice was in on it with Johnny, Vice kept the hotels clean for only the right girls.

    Lawyer boy had a really nice Rolex, drove a Jag, had a beach house, two ex wives with kids, lonely Daddy looking to get laid. I paid him back, pro bono for pro bono. I let him knock me up, 25 married to a 55 year old rich Daddy with two ex wives. The baby did it, that and 25 who took care of Daddy, stuff I learned growing up.

    I don't ever claim I married him for love, it was about the money. But Daddy is the Daddy of my little man and you got to love your baby's Daddy.

    Asians See Things Differently

    Four years ago in a far off foreign land my passport and money were stolen. A man who was behind me in line took over the conversation with the immigration officials and agreed to be my guarantor and put me on a plane the next day. He bought a bond as guarantee and took me to a hotel. That night he had me at his home for dinner, his family all spoke English and were polite and hospitable. The next day he put me on a plane back to the States.

    Next trip he looked me up, had me fly to him. What he didn't do in the hotel that night he did with me then. I wasn't in a position to deny him, I won't say I complied, I just didn't refuse. The experience was interesting but not out of this world. I don't like to say I've had better, it was different.

    It came to me that I was some sort of prize, a prize you just don't turn down. He was as obligated to have me as I was to surrender to him. We were both trapped by some unwritten rule of obligation. The second night involved a nice dinner, conversation about our backgrounds, our educations. What pedigree did I have? Was I quality enough to keep? Was I suitable as a side affair? Certainly his wife had met me, but for a 'concubine', was I suitable?

    He decided that I would do. I was flown to Paris, I met him and his wife there. Our rooms were side by side with a door between them. He took the opportunity to visit me, to reengage with me. The next day I spent with his wife, she gave me my boundaries, very polite, very gentle, but a concubine, not a wife. Did I understand? Yes I did, my grandfather had a concubine.

    As a second generation Korean American contemplating being a concubine surprised my close friends and family. But on a purely rational basis, a woman in her thirties has limited options, a concubine to a man of means was perhaps a good option, the best option. It has been a very good option.