Hiding In the Closet
By: William, Dollar Bill
Tags: Escorts, Sex Work, Culture, Sex, Breasts

Hiding In the Closet

Sequestration was the order of the day

Jlc Imagery — Unsplash

Passing in and out of whorehouses or hookers apartments with the mission being to book their media ads featured a bizarre ritual that dictated no customer could see me.

The theory was that johns were entitled to complete privacy and discretion. There was always the possibility that two men who knew each other might cross paths. And that simply should never happen. Thus whenever a customer entered or left while I was doing paperwork or just gossiping, I had to hide!

It could be behind a door, in another room, or as with the two examples I’m about to describe, in a shower stall or closet.

Her name was Silver (Anthony actually). And she rented part of a third-floor loft in Chelsea, an up-and-coming Manhattan neighborhood. Her portion of the space included a sitting area with a couch, a bedroom, and a shower stall. Wherever the commode was I never saw. The shower was set in the corner of the sitting room with only a translucent curtain affording privacy to anybody cleansing his or her body.

So I’m up with Silver and her friend Angie (also a shemale hooker) doing the ads. Another of their friends is in the room servicing a customer. While we’re doing their ad business, another man buzzes up!

“Billy! Get in the shower!” I roll my eyes with impatience, unhappy about the one-thousandth time I’m compelled to sequester in the name of discretion. But this time is different. There’s nowhere to put the new customer until the old one is done and escorted out.

Silver and Angie bring the new guy through the door and sit him on the couch. And immediately, I think to myself “how long am I gonna stay in this stupid fucking shower? I have work to do. I’m gonna kill Silver!”

Intent on seizing the moment lest it pass, Silver decides to turn the trick before the boom-boom room is vacant. And basically, the two trannies force themselves on the guy.

I can hear his mild protestations — and the girls pulling off his clothing. Silver’s on his face shoving her cock down his throat. And Angie is wedging a dildo up his ass!

“Easy! Easy!” he pleads to Angie, hoping she won’t be too rough with his tightness. Myself? I’m in disbelief!

“That fucking freak!” I think to myself. “Am I gonna stay in here for an hour while they fuck this guy?”

After maybe five or ten minutes of the man moaning and gurgling — and Silver taunting “you like that big cock down your throat,” the boob-boom room vacates, and they ease their victim out of the sitting room and into where he should have been all along before they endeavored to rape the guy. And I am set free to hit the pavement and book the next customer’s ads.

I’d been hidden in all manner of places on the job before. But this was a new one. In a shower stall with a translucent view of two trannies molesting a guy? Check. Can’t wait to tell the girls back at the home office!

Example two was much less eventful. It was just about what I overheard that gives the episode its more or less remarkable quality. Two girls working in an apartment ushered me into a closet where they wanted me to hide while they brought in the trick.

With the door cracked, I could see the guy talking to the girls. He looked normal — but maybe a little shy and nerdy. Ya know…like getting laid without paying wasn’t all that easy for him.

The two girls were pretty enough. But neither had a big chest. Or big enough for him to purchase. So he asks “you have anybody with D-cups. ’Cause I’m a busty king of guy!”

That shit cracked me up! A “busty kind of guy?” What I really hoped one of the girls would say was “I don’t know. I’m a hung kind of girl. Lemme see what you’re workin’ with, hot shot!”

Of course, that didn’t happen. And I can’t remember how the situation was resolved. But that doesn’t matter. It was that “busty kind of guy” stupidity that marked the occasion — and compelled me to include this example.

In closing, I’d like to tell y’all that I got shoved in a closet with a big-chested girl and I got to squeeze her blessings ’cause “I’m a busty kind of guy.” But alas, nothing like that ever happened. There is no third example for y’all horny mother fuckers who are reading this. My apologies.