17

Don’t be too shocked that I was only 17 when I started. I was an old 17, if you know what I mean. If you really want something to wring your hands about, then move straight on to the fact that this happened in the Republic of Ireland where it was and still is illegal, or how about the fact that this was before mobile phones and the internet so most of my custom came via word of mouth. How did they know where to find me? Easy. Same time every day, I could be found standing near the 24 hour garage just outside of my home town. I was a street walker. I loved it.

I’d lost my virginity at 14 to a 28-year-old who assured me that he loved me (maybe he did), I dumped him after 6 months when I found out he was fucking someone else. My first love showed me that I had to pay attention. That I couldn’t just believe everything people told me. I thank him for that, it’s served me well. He also taught me plenty in the bedroom.

I was a willing student, I’d been frantically masturbating for about a year and I was probably in danger of wearing something away (or going blind). My Dad’s stash of magazines in the garage had introduced me to words like ‘climax’ and ‘cum’, but more importantly they had introduced me to my genitals. I went to an all girl Catholic school, so someone had to.

I remember the day I lost my virginity. It was a complete let down. Not for him, he was happy enough. The sex was disappointing. Just 5 dull minutes of rubbing. Of course in hindsight I understand that I needed to learn to do it right. I learned a lot in those first 6 months. I’m glad I did because the furtive shags in darkened rooms that I had over the next couple of years with boys my own age were almost enough to put me off for life.

I learned that I loved getting fucked. I’m not talking about making love. I’m talking good old fashioned ‘do me against the wall, do it now, do it hard and then do it again’. I also learned over time that I had a definite preference for older men. Damn handy in the whoring trade. I also started to discover my kinks. I liked men to be rough with me. I wanted men to be men, but there was a balance. I also started to notice women. Yes, I wanted my men to be dangerous, but I wanted my women to be soft and pretty. All the girls I knew had the same strict Catholic upbringing as I had. There was zero chance of me asking any of them to experiment with me. In rural Ireland, the word Lesbian was still whispered.  So, I ignored it. I put it away. For the time being at least and I continued my regular whoring with the farmers and truck drivers.

All this and I’d never experienced an orgasm.