Back when I was a student studying for my masters, money was tight. I was working as many hours as I could manage but since the Masters programme was self-funded, I was struggling to keep on top of the bills.

It came to a head one Thursday night. I’d gone straight from a seminar class to the restaurant and worked the evening shift. The final straw was when another waiter came out the wrong door and banged into me, causing the remains of the food and wine I was bringing back to the kitchen to splash all over my white blouse. The €35 I earned for the 5 hour shift would now have to cover a new blouse as well.

Once home and changed into my pjs, I sat on the sofa with a cup of tea and picked up the newspaper my flatmate had left on the table. Ideally flicking through it, my eye caught a headline of an opinion piece. ‘Hooker rates soar as they get the lunch time rush.’

Now this was during the height of the Celtic Tiger years when people were earning silly money during the boom, not realising it was all going to come crashing down a few years later. The article talked about how escorts advertising online were charging between €150 and €250 an hour. Quickly doing the maths, I realised that what id earned in five hours, they were getting in fifteen minutes. I flung the paper away in disgust.

Half an hour later, I felt I had entered another world as I looked at Dublin escort sites. The wording and terminology made my skin crawl. It was like a catalogue. You could choose by hair colour, looks, ethnicity, nationality and so on. And then there was the list of favourites: Girlfriend experience, cum in mouth, cum on body, and what the fuck was tea bagging?

The disclaimer at the bottom of every girl’s page made me smile… The escort charges for time and companionship only. Anything else that occurs is a matter of coincidence and choice between consenting adults.

Yeah, right. Some of the photos looked professional but pictures of some of the other girls had obviously taken at home in a badly lit bedroom. I shuddered. I couldn’t put myself out there, could I?

No. There was no way I was going to advertise myself as an escort and sleep with anyone, even if it was for €250 an hour.

I closed the laptop and set the alarm for 7am. I needed to read a couple of papers before my morning tutorial that I hadn't read yet due to working every evening that week. 

I bought a new white blouse from Penny’s on the way to work that evening. Friday night was going to be bedlam. It always was. At 1am, I sat with the rest of the serving staff having a staff drink when Paddy, the manager, came in with the week’s wages. Having worked all weekend and three evening shifts during the previous week, my pay packet totalled €203. While the tips could be great, it was still a struggle. €400 for rent was due on Monday and the electricity bill had arrived this morning. My flatmate Charlotte was in much the same predicament as me and by the time the bills were covered I’d have barely enough for the weekly food shop.

On Saturday morning, I opened the laptop and looked at the escort site once more. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t sell my body for sex. I wasn’t a whore. And with it came the scary thought. What if someone I knew saw my picture and everyone at home found out that instead of studying for my Masters up in Dublin, I was working as a prostitute instead.

I’d more or less given up on the idea when I saw a link to a classified section on the website. These were ads offering everything, but these ones didn't have photos. The internal debate started once again. 

“Girls who sleep with men for money are prostitutes and whores.”

“But why is it ok to sleep with a guy for free but not for him to pay you?”

“That’s different and you know it is.”

“But if the guy buys me dinner or pays for drinks, is that not the same?”

“A guy doesn’t assume just because he paid for dinner he gets to fuck you.”

“Maybe it’s a paid date, and if I like him I end up sleeping with him.”

The back and forth went on in my head as I drew up a list of pros and cons, yeses and noes.

No anal and a condom for everything. It wasn’t a very big list. I knew I needed to let someone know where I was so I’d have to let Charlotte in on it somewhat. We’d looked out for each other before, texting what the guy looked like and if we were going to be back late. I figured I could let her know where I was and if I wasn’t back by an agreed time, to call for help.

I drafted and redrafted an ad. I figured being a student might attract some people and while my B cups mightn't be the biggest in the world, I knew lots of guys liked a more petite girl. Eventually I settled on the ad and hit submit. And there it was…

Hi my name is Ellie. I am Irish, 22 years old and a student. I am 5'5" and I have long brunette hair, blue eyes and petite B cup boobs! I am new to escorting and very excitable and adventurous! I provide an unrushed service to my lucky gentlemen friends. Message me for details

I closed the laptop and went to sleep.

Next morning there were four replies in my inbox. Two were quickly deleted. Why would you just send someone a pic of their cock and a phone number. The other two though were more interesting.

Hi saw your ad. You sound perfect. I'm based in city centre... have an apartment near tara street station... would love lunchtime meets. I'm 32, fit, slim, not some fat balding man of 50.

Tell me a bit more about yourself and maybe we could hook up.

I put him on the reserve list. For some reason, I wasn’t keen on going to his place. A hotel seemed safer. More people around and maybe they’d intervene if I started screaming for help. 

The final reply seemed perfect.

“Hi. I’m in town on Thursday night staying in Jurys Inn in Christchurch and wondered if you might be free. Can you give me an idea of rates and anything you don’t like. Joe.”

There was a vibe from this that I liked. He seemed polite and not too pushy, which was nuts from two sentences. I didn’t have any plans for Thursday night so began to draft a response. I was just about to reply when I decided I didn’t want to look too desperate. Half an hour later, I couldn’t wait any longer and hit send.

“”Hi Joe. Thanks for your email. I am free on Thursday night and your city centre location is ideal. It’s €250 for the date which might sound a lot but I’m not a clock watcher. It’s more like a paid date than anything. Everything covered and no anal. Hope to hear from you soon, Ellie x

I checked and rechecked my email every ten minutes. Finally he replied.

“Hi Ellie. A paid date sounds good. Does covered include blowjobs? I completely agree about covered for sex. How about 8pm? Meet for a drink in the hotel bar? Oh, and can I see a pic of what you look like?”

Fuck. I guess I was going to have to put myself out there. I flicked through the photo folder on my laptop, finally settling on a picture of me wearing a little black dress at the faculty Christmas ball. I cropped the picture to remove my head and the others in the photo then replied, attaching the photo. 

“Hi Joe. It does, but trust me, I’ve had no complaints. See you in the bar. I’ll be the brunette in the green blouse and black leather jacket. Here’s my number in case you need to cancel.”

A few seconds after I send the mail, my phone pinged. 

“And you have mine in case you are running late.”

A few seconds later, another text arrived. 

“By the way, you look adorable.”

Fuck, why hadn’t I bought a spare SIM? Oh well, too late now.

I tried to put my potential career change out of my mind and Thursday came around soon enough. After a shower, I blow dried my hair and put on my sexiest lingerie. A cream silk set with black lace trim. After putting on the hold up stockings, I slipped on a pair of jeans and the green silk blouse I’d told him I would be wearing. I didn’t want to look like a hooker so thought casual suited me best. I told Charlotte I was meeting a guy for a date and she immediately agreed to be my backup. I promised I’d text once we met and if I went back to his, I’d text her the address. I didn’t tell her he was paying me. There are some things you keep even from your best friends.

I sat in the hotel bar with a glass of white wine. I’d brought a half-bottle with me in my bag too, thinking it would add to the ambiance of a date in his room later. After checking the room to see there weren’t any other women wearing green, I sent him a text to tell him I was there, describing the green blouse and dark hair. 

I was more nervous than I thought I’d be and had drunk most of the wine by the time I heard a voice. “Hello, Ellie?”

I looked up to see a middle aged man in front of me. “Hi, Joe,” I replied and I could see relief in his face. 

“Can I get you a drink?”

I nodded and so, a couple of minutes later, we were making small talk at the table. I tried to drink my second glass more slowly while he enjoyed a pint of lager. 

I clocked the wedding ring straight away and, don’t judge me please, but it made me feel better. It was stupid I know but the fact he was married meant he’d as much to lose as me so would want to keep this quiet. He was cute in an older man, dad kind of way. He wasn’t sweaty or overweight but not super skinny either. He looked average and, if I’m honest, I’d been with worse. 

We didn’t mention directly why we were and what we would soon be doing as we talked. He was in Dublin for a conference and he asked a little about what I did at college without prying too much about which one or what course. I cursed inwardly at one stage when I mentioned which county I was from. But it all went smoothly enough and I got the feeling this wasn’t his first rodeo which also reassured me. 

He waited for me to finish my drink then smiled and suggested we headed up to his room. Here goes nothing I thought as I picked up my bag and followed him to the lifts. As the lift doors closed, he turned and kissed me. It was unexpected but felt ok. I kissed back, getting into the mood, getting into the roleplay of being his date. 

I checked the room number as he opened the door. Once inside, he handed me a plain white envelope. 

“I thought it would be more discreet giving this to you here.”

I smiled, nodded and slipped it into my bag. 

“I'm just going to freshen up,” I told him and locked myself in the bathroom. I opened the envelope. Five crisp fifty euro notes. I imagined him getting them from the ATM before joining me in the bar. I quickly texted Charlotte telling her I’d gone to his hotel room telling her the hotel and room number then removed my blouse and slid off my jeans. After touching up my makeup and just wearing my stockings and lingerie, I went back into the bedroom. 

He stood up when he saw me. Wow was all he said then placed his hands on my hips as I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him again. 

“You’re overdressed,” I whispered, my fingers fumbling with his shirt buttons. His hands roamed over me, caressing my ass, sliding up my spine then around to cup my boobs. When I had his shirt unbuttoned, his gasped as my fingers slide inside the waistband of his trousers. 

“Can I have a blowjob first?” It sounded almost like he was begging. “I always come quickly the first time.”

I nodded, got a condom from my bag and left it on the floor then kissed him again, more passionately this time as I tugged the belt open and unzipped his fly. His cock was hard. I could feel it pulse through the trouser fabric as my hand traced its outline. Letting his trousers pool around his ankles, i gripped the waistband of his boxer shorts and pulled them down and over his cock. 

He was big. No massively big but meaty. I broke the kiss and, keeping eye contact slid down onto my knees. He stood there, not moving, just watching as I opened the packet and put the condom in my mouth. 

Time to demonstrate my party trick. I unrolled the condom with my lips, pushing it down his erect shaft until he was fully covered and my mouth was full. I slowly pulled back, letting it slide from my mouth then took him in again. My left hand gripped the base of his cock while my right played with and teased his balls. I rolled my lips around the head, sucking and licking, my eyes never leaving his. The combination of wanking the shaft and sucking the head seemed to work and, true to his word, he blew his load into the condom within a couple of minutes. 

As he sat down, panting heavily, on the edge of the bed, I unrolled the condom from his softening cock then pushed him back onto the bed and lay beside him. We kissed and snuggled. My fingers teased his nipples and balls as he recovered. 

In only a few minutes, his cock began to twitch. His kisses got firmer and more aggressive as I slowly wanked his cock back to full hardness. His hands went behind my back and unclipped my bra. He greedily began to suck on my nipples. Sucking and tugging them with his lips. I squirmed and moaned. It felt good. It had been a while since I’d been with anyone and my body was enjoying itself as he played with my girls.

“Get on top,” he demanded. “I want to watch you in action.”

I nodded, scurried off the bed for another condom and slipped off my knickers. I straddled his legs and rolled the condom on. Shuffling up the bed, he lay there and watched as I lowered myself down onto his cock. The condom was lubed and I was already wet so he slipped in easily enough. I settled on him and his hands moved to squeeze my boobs. 

I squirmed, grinding down on him as he pressed up, trying to force himself in deeper. I leant back, arching as he pressed up. We were going well until with an over enthusiastic thrust as I bounced up, he slipped out of me and as I landed he gave a cry of pain. Fortunately lust took over and he rolled me onto my back and took me missionary style. I spread my legs as wide as I could, letting him rut. He thrust deep and hard. My ankles crossed and pressed into his ass, pulling him into me. The thought that I was getting two hundred and fifty euros for this made me smile. I was getting into it, moving with the rhythm, feeling it beginning to build in my core when he gave a strangled cry and froze. He thrust once.. twice… three times then collapsed on top of me. 

He lay on top of me for a few minutes, then carefully withdrew, holding the condom on as he withdrew. As he stood pulling the condom off he informed me he was going for a piss. Once he was back, I opened the bottle and poured two glasses of not quite so chilled while wine into the toothbrush glasses the hotel had provided. We sat and drank the wine while we recovered. 

I was a little bit miffed I hadn’t cum so as we lay on the bed, leaning against the headboard, I took his hand and guided it between my legs. 

“Touch my clit,” I whispered. “You need to make your date cum too.”

He nodded and looking embarrassed began to slide his fingers up and down my slit. His aim was all over the place but I guessed he mightn’t like to be criticised so instead I began to stroke his wrist then gripped his hand and slowly guided his fingers whilst sighing and spreading my legs. After a few minutes, I let go of his hand and he carried on, flying solo. His touch was gentle with a degree of inventiveness, never quite sure how his finger would move next. I squirmed on the bed,watching him through lidded eyes as he drank his wine whilst still fingering me. It felt good but he wasn’t hitting it right and I knew I wasn’t going to cum. To save his embarrassment, I faked a small orgasm then slumped and smiled at him. 

“Thank you,” I whispered, drinking some wine as the feminist in my head screamed at me for making him think he’d made a woman cum with his clumsy fingers. A quick internal rebuke that he’d paid for it shut her up. 

Unsurprisingly, he was hard again after fingering me so I kissed him and asked him if he’d a position in mind while I rolled yet another condom on him. 

“I’d like to take you from behind.. doggie style.” He blushed as he asked and I wondered if he was like this with his wife or maybe he never asked and just had a quick missionary under the covers with the lights off on a Saturday night. 

I got on all fours in the middle of the bed and, looking over my shoulder, wiggled my ass at him.

“Fuck me, Joe,” I goaded. “Fuck me the way you want it.”

He didn’t need telling twice. I looked in the large dressing table mirror as he positioned himself behind me. He had the beginnings of a paunch and love handles around his waist. I watched him look down as he rubbed my clit and slit with the head of his cock. He guided it in then gripped my hips with both hands and pushed in hard. I was forced forward slightly by the force. He pressed my hips forward as he pulled back then pulled me back onto him as he slammed forward. It was deep, hard and aggressive. For the first time I felt like I was being used. That I was something he’d paid for and now he was getting his money’s worth. For the first time, I felt like a whore. 

I looked back. He had his teeth gritted, almost snarling as he slammed into me. I don’t know whether it was the fingering from earlier, the cock slamming deep into my pussy or the situation of being paid to be a whore but the orgasm that had eluded me earlier arrived suddenly, and hard. I gasped, panted and squeaked, "Fuck fuck fuck" as he pounded me. My pussy exploded and shortly afterwards, he came too. 

My arms collapsed and I lay face down, ass up with his cock still inside me on the bed. He was draped over my back, panting in my ear as we both struggled for oxygen 

"Fuck" was all I could think of to say, to which he agreed, responding with a "fuckk" of his own. He pulled out and lay on his back beside me, reaching up to stroke a strand of sweat soaked hair away from my face. 

I reached for my glass and knocked back the rest of the by now room temperature wine. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been in his room but knew it was time to go. With an effort I pulled myself up and retrieved my bra and knickers. In the bathroom, once dressed and, pulling a hairbrush through my tousled hair, reflected that it hadn’t been so bad. 

He was still lying in the same position on the bed when I came out. I leant down and kissed him. 

“Thanks for a lovely date,” I giggled.

“We should do it again some time.”

I nodded in acquiescence. “Let me know when you’re next in town.”

I left the hotel room and as I walked down the corridor I was sure everyone I passed knew what I was and what I’d done. Walking out of the hotel two hundred and fifty euros richer because I was a whore. 

College got busier. I had thought about doing it again. The money was incredibly easy. I’d been paid to have better sex than some I’d given for free. But I worried I wouldn’t be so lucky next time. I had given enough of myself away that he probably could have tracked me down. But knowing he was married made it unlikely.

He did text me once about three months later saying he was in town and was I free for a date. I was so tempted, not gonna lie. But I’d a boyfriend by then too and well, in the end, I bought a new SIM card and changed my number instead. Ellie had left the building.