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Anything Goes
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Bi-Sexual Male / 28
I did not know where else to post this and it's really a long story but I will spare readers by trying to be concise. I was fortunate (and unfortunate for various reasons) to have been born with a photographic model's demeanor and looks. I've never taken it for granted nor felt entitled. Often it has helped and sometimes it has injured me. Also please know that this is not some "hot sex" fiction or any kind of erotic story. Sex does enter into it but nothing like some of the posts I have read here, many that are obviously fiction.
To provide an idea, while I do not look like a young Tom Selleck, often, people, both men and woman have asked if I was related to him because I "remind" them of Tom. It's also not just looks but charisma. Anyone with a exceptional appearance, if they have a good sense of self, can see the obvious pitfalls. People react in opposite ways, often surprisingly injurious and malevolent.
Another good birthright was athleticism. I was good at any kind of ball gave, and excelled at basketball although I am only 6'4". Most on the team were taller than me. I had to make up for the lack of height with speed but I enjoyed working harder. We had one fellow on the team only 5'10" but he was a speed demon and tricky with a ball, a dead shot once he got the ball in his hands from almost any reasonable zone on the court.
I was not that guy but I did have a free ride to schools where my school teacher dad would never be able to afford my schools of choice. We lost my mother to Cancer when I was six. Friends, both men and women urged me to pursue modeling to help with books and so forth. I did. While seeking an agent, I spotted a young woman in the waiting room and sat next to her. It has never happened to me before but I was smitten instantly. She had a perfect body and face. Her face looked angelic and she was a natural blonde with the type of hair found only in Scandinavian countries.
She was a sort of female version of me. Unlike me, she found that I "turned her off" and she made it clear to me that I did without using too many words. Apologizing for what-ever, I got up and moved across the room. I spotted her glancing at me once in a while but decided to hush down by beating heart.
In the lobby of the agency was a beautifully inviting coffee shop and I was drawn to it, deciding to spend the time. Back then I was in my senior year and coasting along. For some reason I had not yet decided where to pursue a profession as yet. I ordered coffee then saw the blonde walk in. She spotted me and came to my table and asked if she could join me. Apparently, my simply leaving her with no argument hand impressed her.
In less than one week, we were making love in her condo. She had been at the agency to "change her profession." Her name was Beatrix or "Bea" for short. When she realized I was serious about her she sat me down and told me what profession she was leaving. She explained that she had an uncle she called, "The slime-ball" who had talked her into being a high-end call girl. In time, she had a select list of ten very rich men who took her around as a trophy and after a fine evening in an ultra-expensive restaurant they would fuck her. The evening would cost them $1,500. with no frills or grotesque demands, no kinky, no pain, and so forth. This was atop their membership fee to her list, to be on call to them. That was $2,500 a month. I lost my breath thinking of the amount of tax-free money she was taking in.
In many cases, they would fall asleep eating her pussy then wake up thinking they had done the whole menu. On other occasions thy would just chat with her for hours, no sex. When they wanted sex, some wanted anal and oral, denied to them by wives.
I told her I needed to "digest it all" (no pun intended) and after a month of mental struggle, I decided to end the relationship. She said that she understood.
Actually, she did not really understand. While I did not enjoy the idea that she had been, basically, a prostitute, I was set aside by the reality of her massive illegal income and her having salted away most of her money in the Cayman Islands. My dad was a retired IRS supervisor now teaching at a law school. Caught, they would put her away for a long time. Too long for me, and too painful.
To provide an idea, while I do not look like a young Tom Selleck, often, people, both men and woman have asked if I was related to him because I "remind" them of Tom. It's also not just looks but charisma. Anyone with a exceptional appearance, if they have a good sense of self, can see the obvious pitfalls. People react in opposite ways, often surprisingly injurious and malevolent.
Another good birthright was athleticism. I was good at any kind of ball gave, and excelled at basketball although I am only 6'4". Most on the team were taller than me. I had to make up for the lack of height with speed but I enjoyed working harder. We had one fellow on the team only 5'10" but he was a speed demon and tricky with a ball, a dead shot once he got the ball in his hands from almost any reasonable zone on the court.
I was not that guy but I did have a free ride to schools where my school teacher dad would never be able to afford my schools of choice. We lost my mother to Cancer when I was six. Friends, both men and women urged me to pursue modeling to help with books and so forth. I did. While seeking an agent, I spotted a young woman in the waiting room and sat next to her. It has never happened to me before but I was smitten instantly. She had a perfect body and face. Her face looked angelic and she was a natural blonde with the type of hair found only in Scandinavian countries.
She was a sort of female version of me. Unlike me, she found that I "turned her off" and she made it clear to me that I did without using too many words. Apologizing for what-ever, I got up and moved across the room. I spotted her glancing at me once in a while but decided to hush down by beating heart.
In the lobby of the agency was a beautifully inviting coffee shop and I was drawn to it, deciding to spend the time. Back then I was in my senior year and coasting along. For some reason I had not yet decided where to pursue a profession as yet. I ordered coffee then saw the blonde walk in. She spotted me and came to my table and asked if she could join me. Apparently, my simply leaving her with no argument hand impressed her.
In less than one week, we were making love in her condo. She had been at the agency to "change her profession." Her name was Beatrix or "Bea" for short. When she realized I was serious about her she sat me down and told me what profession she was leaving. She explained that she had an uncle she called, "The slime-ball" who had talked her into being a high-end call girl. In time, she had a select list of ten very rich men who took her around as a trophy and after a fine evening in an ultra-expensive restaurant they would fuck her. The evening would cost them $1,500. with no frills or grotesque demands, no kinky, no pain, and so forth. This was atop their membership fee to her list, to be on call to them. That was $2,500 a month. I lost my breath thinking of the amount of tax-free money she was taking in.
In many cases, they would fall asleep eating her pussy then wake up thinking they had done the whole menu. On other occasions thy would just chat with her for hours, no sex. When they wanted sex, some wanted anal and oral, denied to them by wives.
I told her I needed to "digest it all" (no pun intended) and after a month of mental struggle, I decided to end the relationship. She said that she understood.
Actually, she did not really understand. While I did not enjoy the idea that she had been, basically, a prostitute, I was set aside by the reality of her massive illegal income and her having salted away most of her money in the Cayman Islands. My dad was a retired IRS supervisor now teaching at a law school. Caught, they would put her away for a long time. Too long for me, and too painful.
