"Marisol & Me: A Sad, But True Story"
Her name was "Marisol", and she was a pretty, vivacious little thing with a nice bubble butt, which I admit was the original reason she'd caught my eye. Frequently visiting the Newark, NJ area, I'd met her at a Dunkin' Donuts, where my simple "hello" was met with a smirk, followed by a disgusted "please!". At the time, I had no idea she was a tgirl, but I determined right then and there that nothing was going to come of trying to clarify my intentions, and moved on with my business. Interestingly, when I came outside, she apologized for being so abrupt, explaining that she was having a bad day. Since this wasn't the first time I'd had this kind of initial interaction with a female (to say nothing of a TG), I brushed it off and began talking with her, and in less than an hour was let in on the fact that she was a transsexual, which she stated very clearly, if almost apologetically even. At this point, I wrapped my arms around her (in a supportive kind of way, nothing more), and told her it didn't matter to me one way or another, to which she smiled, laid her head on my chest, and wrapped her arms around my waist. A few moments later, when I let go of her, she put her hands on either side of my face and looked me in the eyes for a second, before planting a wet kiss on my lips, completing the act by lightly biting my bottom lip and pulling away giggling. I ended up getting her number and going about my other business, but definitely couldn't get the thought of Marisol from running through my head for the rest of the day...
Two weeks later, I had been spending an increasing amount of time talking to Marisol on the phone and visiting her, and on the fourth or fifth visit, was approached sexually, which she explained was a "personal" thing unrelated to her job, as she had previously told me her income was derived from her work as an escort. I told her that nothing was going to come of anything she was trying to start as I wasn't interested in a girlfriend, but she ignored all that and proceeded to playfully nibble on my ear, and plant kisses along my neck. In a few more minutes, she was sucking on my dick like a woman possessed, and I am not above admitting that it was the best blowjob I've ever had in my life, paid for or not. Unfortunately, that was as far as it went on that occasion, as after she finished by jerking me off onto her chest, she told me she was tired, and that I had to go. I noticed that her mood had changed significantly, but simply said goodnight and went home, unaware of the plans she was formulating...
A few weeks on, I had spent several more intimate nights with Marisol, who told me in passing on one of these occasions that she had decided to give up escorting. I instinctively filed this away into the "bullshit" compartment of my mind, but remained silent, since because she wasn't my girl, it didn't make a difference to me whether she continued to escort or not. However, when she brought it up again during a lull in a particularly delightful romp in the sack, I finally asked why she felt the need to keep bringing bring this up. With a perfectly straight face, she turned to me and said "Don't you love me? Don't you want to take care of me?" That she had the nerve to say this, much less while I was still deep inside her ass, convinced me that I was nothing but a mark to her, and without saying another word, I pulled out, went to the bathroom and flushed the condom and cleaned myself up, got dressed, and left the hottest girl I've ever seen with my own eyes to find someone else to be her sugar daddy, as I'm sure she's continued to try and do. It's worth noting, I think, that she never said another word after asking me to "take care" of her, and it also says something that she didn't look me in the face as I got dressed and went out the door. Great blowjobs and one of the tightest asses I've ever experienced aside, to say nothing of her banging body, she had made the mistake of offending my personal sense of dignity, and I couldn't allow that. While I talked to her briefly on the phone a time or two afterwards, when she boldy offered to give me "exclusive" time with her up to eight hours a week for $1,000 a week, I told her not to ever call me again, and hung up. I haven't spoken to or seen her since.
What wouldn't work for me would surely be easy for another man to accept, and there are certainly many men who would jump at the chance to simply be near Marisol. Still, it will always be sad to me that such a pretty and intelligent girl would take my sincere friendship, and try to turn it into a business opportunity. If she had offered me her services from the start, no doubt I wouldn't have told her many of the things about me that I did, and we wouldn't have developed the friendship I thought we had, but the relationship would have at least been honest. Unfortunately, that wasn't the way things went... and I couldn't adjust to the way they did go, because of personal fucking convictions. Could there possibly be a worse reason? Goddamned "dignity"! :frustrated
