Did they ever smell? I assume they don’t shower between men… Did you ever perform oral sex on them? Did you ever see anyone with obvious bruises (abuse)? Do you know of any that you knew who got a serious disease? Were any of them married?
Oh one more question. Did many of them talk during the sex? (dirty talking, “oh god oh god” etc)
I don’t place much validity on “sex addict” as a diagnosis. I think it’s an excuse used by people who can’t keep it in their pants. Sure, there might be some people whose brains are wired funny who can’t control their impulses, but the rest of the guys claiming “I’m a sex addict!” only come to that conclusion when they get caught.
Body odor was rare. If a woman smelled bad to me and I didn’t want to go through with it, I would pay her and drop her off. Occasionally there would be an unpleasant surprise when her pants came off. It was hard to be tactful but I usually managed to weasel out of it by claiming sudden back pain or something. Since condoms for intercourse were the rule, sloppy seconds was not an issue.
I answered the oral sex question already. Short answer: I did it once, but otherwise didn’t due to the risk.
I saw a few bruises and black eyes. I never saw a bruise that was big enough or in an unusual place that I thought it was due to abuse. Just regular bumped-into-something bruises. They usually explained the black eyes by saying they got into a fight with another woman.
According to another prostitute, one of the women I had picked up had AIDS (she pointed her out as we drove by and I recognized that I had picked her up once). I had worn a condom with her, so I wasn’t too worried.
Only a couple of them told me they were married. Most mentioned boyfriends.
Some didn’t say a thing. Some had obvious patter which they used: “Oh yeah. That’s good baby. Are you almost done? Come on baby.” Monotone and uninspiring. Some were better at it and made it arousing, though it was obvious that they were moaning for my benefit. Some seemed to genuinely be enjoying themselves and sounded like it.
I like dirty talk and would sometimes ask them to say something specific. Some would and some wouldn’t. I always found it funny when we were screwing and I would ask her to say “Fuck me harder” and she would say it’s embarrassing. “It’s not embarrassing to be a $25 whore fucking a loser in a shitty American car?! Sorry for crossing your boundary line.”
In the animal world, it’s not called “cash,” but it’s there.
I’m thinking, of course, about the courtship behaviour of the dung beetle …
To add to OpalCat’s query:
Did any of the prostitutes talk during/after sex? For example, last night’s episode of Kingpin (the wife, not the part with the S&M possibly-prostitute and the psycho).The kind of nonstop chatter that leaves you thinking, “Oh God, please why won’t she just SHUT UP?”
How soon are you to finishing your screenplay, and how much do you expect to get for it? Have you approached the agent for the guy who directed “Storytelling”? 
This thread is fascinating. It’s everything an “Ask The” thread should be - things I always wanted to know but never got the chance to ask. Thank you isthatsowrong for your informative and thoughtful replies.
What Francesca said.
Did the fact that the … uh … women generally regarded you as a nice guy, and comparatively safe, mean that you were eligible for any sort of discount or price break? Or is there a “frequent flier” program, so to speak?
And regarding the “uh” above, what is the preferred terminology? I note that while a few of the questioners have been somewhat loose with “hookers” and “hos” and other questionable epithets, you’ve rather consistently referred to the women as “prostitutes.” Given their line of work, I’m sure they couldn’t be too picky about how the clientele labeled them, but do you have any insight into what they wanted to be called?
Seems like the really smart prostitute would look good and smell bad, and then she’d get picked up a lot, paid, and rarely have to have sex! hehe
(oh, and even a woman’s own lubricant can get sloppy, though… they never got…err… cheesy or crispy or anything?)
I answered this a few posts back.
I answered this a few posts back.
My life would make an excellent Todd Solondz film. My hair was set on fire on the school bus when I was 13. I was secretly married for five years (before my current wife, who knows all about it). I was arrested in a podunk town in New York by a cop whose mom called him on the police radio to tell him she made macaroni and cheese and he should come home. It would be a critically-acclaimed arthouse film.
There were no discounts, no coupons, no buy one get one free, no going out of business sales. There was one time that I was unable to get off and the woman didn’t want a dissatisfied customer so she said the next one would be free. I never went back to her, however; I couldn’t get off because she was a horribly dull fuck.
Some of them called themselves whores. Maybe they were embracing the term to defuse it, like black people saying “nigger”. The other commonly used term was “working girl”. A few called themselves prostitutes or hookers, but mostly there was no reason to call themselves anything. We both knew what they were. They didn’t have resumes with job titles and such.
No, no cheese or crispiness.
You didn’t ask, but you might wonder what they do when they are menstruating. Yeah, I’ve got your number, you pervs…
Intercourse was not on the menu during their periods. Some of them didn’t work at all on those days.
Did you ever hit up a woman and she wasn’t a prostitute? What happened?
Any funny stories?
Anecdote relating to Guin’s question:
When I was a dancer, I got really mad once and left the club. My husband had the car (he delivered pizza) so I started walking. It was about 10 miles to my house, but I was in shape.
However, it was 11pm and I was wearing thigh-high 4" spike heel boots, a velvet dress that came to the ankle in the back but only mid-thigh in the front. I had on enough makeup to choke a rhino. I was walking down Speedway, a major road that is still quite busy at that hour.
No fewer than 3 cars pulled off the road and drove over to me to ask if I was “working”.
I can’t believe none of us thought of that question, actually.
Did any of them ever seem…sad?
This is a highly fascinating thread! I applaud you for starting it and the well thought out responses , as well as the dopers for asking intelligent, thought provoking quesitons.
Besides the fact that your life story is a best seller waiting to happen and a future art-house movie, this is just fascinating.
I agree with you, prostitution should be legal and regulated. It is out there anyway, we might as well make some tax $ ( for sex ed in school, ha!) on it.
**A couple of questions: **
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You intimated you use to live in Boston. Where ever you are now, have you sought out prostitutes? And, if you went on vacation, did you seek them out as well?
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Are you on prescription medication for your depression? How is that going?
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What do you think your wife would do if she ever found out about this part of your past?
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How do you feel you have changed as a person since giving up using prostitutes? Are you better at relationships and general chit chat with people?
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You are not Ted Kennedy, are you ?
Thanks for opening this thread.
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You said there was little actual talking between you and the prostitute. How did you manage to put together a bio of some of the prostitutes? Was personal information exchanged here and there in apparently un-intimate conversations?
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Is there a chance someone could become emotionally involved with a prostitute? Are these chances low because most men indeed treated them as sub-humans, and most prostitutes were(again stereotypically) hard-boiled and cynical.
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Related to (2), do you think the prostitutes were as a bunch different from “ordinary” humans? I mean, was there something, some trait, their outlook, something profoundly common to most of them that distinguished them from a random sample of the population?
Every once in a while I would ask a woman “Are you working?” and she’d say no. I think some of them lied because they thought I was a cop. It’s pretty obvious who’s working and who’s not. Nothing ever came of it. I just drove away.
I can’t think of any. Unless having a hooker puke on you while going down on you, and then continuing as if nothing happened is funny.