On  a business trip to LA in the days before the internet. I thought I would go out with some co-workers and when they weren't around, find a hot LA escort and have my first experience. I had been dating the same woman for several years and just wanted something different. In my mind, I imagined some aspiring Hollywood starlet that would be one of the best looking women I had ever seen. The reality turned out to be um, slightly different.

Everyone went out to dinner the first night we were there and I told them I wasn't feeling well and wanted to stay in the hotel. Believe it or not, I had a room-mate that night in my double-bed room, but he was a total horn-dog as well and cool with it all. He promised to knock if they came back early.  

I wound up making quite a few calls from the phone book and being told about "unbelievably beautiful women" who were priced at $800 an hour+++. This was the early 90's; there was *no way* I was paying that much. Eventually I called a number and they said they would send out an "extremely beautiful woman" in under an hour for $250. I was excited and told them to send her out.

What showed up was a Carmen Miranda look-alike (Google it) who looked like a she was getting ready to do a Chiquita banana commercial. She was dressed so ridiculously, I sincerely wonder how she made it through the lobby. I'd never seen anything like her in my life--still haven't. It was like she a walking parody of herself.

Anyway, she comes in and tells me I remind her of Tom Cruise and asks me if I want to engage in some, "Risky Business." I tell her I'm good with that, let's get going. She keeps the ridiculous outfit on and starts to give me a really good handjob.  She keeps telling me to, "Give me your MEEELK, baby."  

I'm enjoying it, but I'm not really here for just a handjob, so I ask about what else I can get in addition to my $250. She say's more, but she'll need a copy of my credit card.  

We get up and I start looking for my credit card. At that point, I remember that I had hidden it in case I got robbed (this was my first time and TER didn't exist yet), and she say's, "You jerk, did you HIDE your wallet???" I tell her no, just misplaced it and keep looking. Eventually I find it and she bends over the bed, hikes up her skirt and says, "Slowly Tom, you're a big boy."  

I put on a condom, start to put it in and she seems like she's having a hard time taking it all. In retrospect, it might have been going in her ass--hell, she could have been a man for all I know with monstrous Charo outfit she still had on. Eventually I get it in, pump her for a few minutes and come. Immediately after, she says, "Hey Tom Cruise, you have a very nice ding-dong."

After that, we made small talk, she got dressed, and left. That *exact* moment, the people I went to LA with were coming back from dinner and the elevator opened dropping them off as she was coming around the hall from my room. Apparently everyone snickered at the walking jungle that passed them. Talk about close. Hopefully my roommate didn't spill the beans on me--I'll never know for sure. So I thought that was the end of it.

Not so fast; the following day, she calls back and says they don't take AMEX and that she needs another card from me. I don't have one on hand, so she starts to tell me how she will tell my wife and boss if I don't come up with another $150. I tell her she can come by the hotel, but that I don't have another card on hand. She threatens me a few more times and once she realizes that I don't really have one to give her, laughs and say's, "Don't worry Tom, I will let you off the hook--you really did have a nice ding-dong."  

Whew. Holy crap...

That experience was so unappealing that it would be seven years before I would call another provider, this one in Atlanta and fortunately, a much better experience.

The moral of the story? Let's all take a moment to thank the inventor of the internet; you are the single best thing that ever happened to hobbyist's sex life.