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!