Several prostitutes that I remember most vividly

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In this materialistic age, I wonder how many men don't patronize prostitutes. At least around me, it seems there aren't any men who don't. I
am a prostitute, and my reasons are roughly as follows: 1. I came from the countryside and have experienced many hardships living in the city. As Naipaul said, "Prostitutes may not have taught me anything, but I have received a lot of comfort from them." 2. I am a normal man, and I need a normal way to balance my physical needs. 3. I don't consider prostitution a betrayal of my past or future lovers. There are two kinds of betrayal: physical and emotional. Emotional betrayal is the real betrayal. 4. I will always be loyal to my lovers. After I have a partner or get married, I will definitely stop this behavior.
Over the years, I've patronized many prostitutes, to the point that I've forgotten the exact number, just as they've forgotten me. Of course, there are still a few in my memory, and I hope they remember me as often as I remember them.
What remains in my memory are, of course, a few peculiar women. There wasn't much strangeness among them; just as walking the night too often might lead to encounters with ghosts, frequenting prostitutes might bring some unexpected adventures.
Fortunately, the first prostitute I met was a very good woman. Actually, this was also my misfortune. If Mei had shattered my initial impression of prostitutes, my later life of frequenting prostitutes wouldn't have been so promiscuous. Therefore, the cycle of all things is the same; what you gain, you also lose.
I. Mei
The first prostitute I met was named Mei. I'm giving them these names without any particular meaning; it's just my preference for words.
At that time, I was serving in the army in Guangdong. Near my unit was a management district. Although a management district in Guangdong is only equivalent to an administrative village in inland areas, it's different in Guangdong. There were dozens of factories around, and the migrant population was more than ten times the local population. It was very prosperous, with more than a dozen hair salons. Mei worked in one of them; she also knew how to cut hair.
I had a cousin who worked in Shenzhen. He came to visit me at the army base. That night, he invited me to a hair salon for a massage, and that's how I met Mei. A few days later, on Saturday night, I went to play pool with some comrades in that area and ran into Mei again. I called out to her, and we had a late-night snack together before returning to the hair salon. In a dimly lit private room, we did *that*. I knew Mei was a prostitute, but I didn't negotiate the price with her. Afterwards, I gave Mei 100 yuan; that was all I could afford. Mei hesitated for a moment, then took it without saying anything.
By then, I had already learned to write some articles. Publications in Guangdong paid relatively well, and I could receive several hundred yuan in royalties each month. My expenses in the army weren't high, and later I used the royalties to visit Mei a few more times—it really became my "honeymoon fee."
Two months later, I went to Guangzhou to intern at a newspaper, learning to write news. Before that, I had saved some money in the credit union in the management area. The day I went to Guangzhou was a Sunday, and the credit union was closed, so I couldn't withdraw my money. I had to borrow 1,000 yuan from my supervisor and leave my passbook with him. I only used the 1000 yuan in Guangzhou for half a month. I needed to go back to my unit to get the money, but the entire unit had already gone out for field training. I was dumbfounded, not knowing where to get the money to go back to Guangzhou. That evening, feeling depressed, I went to Mei for dinner and told her about it. Actually, I just wanted someone to talk to; I didn't mean to borrow money from Mei. But Mei took out 1200 yuan from her pocket and gave it to me, saying, "Since that's the case, you can take it from me for now."
You see, at that time, Mei didn't even know my name, nor did she know which unit I belonged to, because there were several units around. Mei only knew my surname, which is a compound surname, and people usually addressed me by my surname, so very few people knew my full name.
I once asked Mei, "What will you do if I don't pay you back?"
Mei's answer was simple: "Then I'll blame myself for being blind and misjudging you."
The money was never returned to Mei, because it was no longer necessary. Mei was the only prostitute I had ever encountered who had reformed. I told her, "Since you know how to cut hair, why don't you open a proper hair salon?" Mei listened to me, and with my help, she opened a salon in a management area near town, hired a helper, and business was good, earning two or three hundred yuan a day. Although it was hard work, Mei seemed content.
For Mei's sake, I gave up the opportunity to be promoted in the army and, after my discharge, became a newsletter editor at the city's police officer training school. Mei and I lived 50 kilometers apart, and I would meet with her every weekend. Mei's most peculiar trait was that she never let me touch her genitals, yet a kiss was enough to arouse her. I have always lacked knowledge of women's hygiene, so I still don't understand this phenomenon.
Mei admired my writing, but she never read what I was writing, had already written, or had published. She simply cared for me silently and showed me consideration while I wrote. I spent over a year with Mei. During that time, I wrote a lot. I was too profit-driven in my writing, usually focusing on royalties. I remember earning nearly ten thousand yuan in royalties that year.
The daughter of a leader from the Municipal Public Security Bureau also worked at this school. After meeting me, she pursued me relentlessly. I knew that if I were with this girl, it might mean a lifetime of wealth and luxury, but I still rejected her. Unexpectedly, she resorted to the most despicable means. She told me that she could make that bitch get out of the city immediately. To this day, I still don't know how she drove Mei away.
Another weekend, I went to find Mei, but the place was deserted. The neighbors told me that several policemen had come looking for Mei, and then she moved away. As night fell that day, my footprints disappeared from the city that had given me so much warmth.
II. Lan
The winter before last, I was working in N city. A friend from Shenzhen came to N city on a business trip. He was a close friend of mine for many years, so naturally I didn't dare to neglect him and arranged for him to stay in a four-star hotel. A few days later, my friend finished his errand and relaxed.
Since he had connections and influence, I called over the hotel's public relations manager and asked if they had any high-class girls. The manager said they did, but the girl wasn't a full-time employee; she'd decide on a case-by-case basis, and her price was high—1500 yuan initially, but the final price depended on the girl's mood and the client's character.
I said money wasn't an issue; I asked him to bring her over.
The manager took out his phone, made a call, and told us to wait in the bar on the first floor.
Ten minutes later, the girl arrived—this was Lan. The bar was dimly lit, and Lan's arrival felt like a bright spring day. Lan seemed satisfied with my friend, and the final price was 1200 yuan. To be honest, I'd never done anything so expensive before.
In my previous article, "Encountering a Hostess Online," I mentioned that this hostess's overnight rate was 800 yuan. This price drew criticism from many netizens, with one friend mentioning that "illegal escorts" in some buildings only charged 20 yuan. I believe that even though they are all "illegal escorts," the price can be different, just like the clothes we wear. At an open-air food stall, a few dozen yuan is enough, but at a high-end chain like CK Dunhill, it can cost thousands, yet the feeling of wearing them is also different.
The next day, I took my friend to the airport to catch his flight back to Shenzhen. On the way, I asked him if the 1200 yuan I spent yesterday was worth it.
My friend said one word: "Worth it."
Since my friend said it was worth it, there must be a reason. That word "worth it" stirred something within me. I thought how wonderful it would be if I could try it myself and see if it was worth it.
The opportunity finally came. Two friends came to visit me in N city and stayed at that four-star hotel. Before they left, I asked them to hold onto the room for one more day.
After seeing my friend off, I found the PR manager and asked her to call Lan over. I met Lan again in the bar on the first floor. I told her my price couldn't exceed 1000, otherwise I wouldn't have food to eat tomorrow; 880 would be a lucky number.
I was telling the truth. Lan smiled and said, "This friend is really humorous, very good at joking." But she still accepted my price.
We didn't rush to a room, but instead took a stroll in a nearby park. It was already afternoon. On the way back, I wanted to treat Lan to McDonald's. But Lan was very understanding, saying it was a bit expensive and we should get fast food instead. We went to an
open-air food stall, ordered two fast food meals and two beers. The warm sunset shone on us, golden and radiant. I stared at Lan sitting opposite me, her smile equally bright and radiant. I thought, is this the prostitute I'm about to spend the night with? She seemed more like a lover I'd reunited with after a long separation.
If I were to describe the entire process with Lan, it would definitely be deleted by the moderator. To keep this post alive, I have to reluctantly cut it out here. Actually, the whole process was still just one word—worth it!
Anyone who has ever patronized a prostitute knows that typical "black-market" prostitutes are like this: they take off their clothes, lie down on the bed, spread their legs, tell you to hurry up, then take the money, pull up their pants, and leave. Lan is...?
I asked her, "Since you're not a professional, what is your profession?" Lan playfully replied, "Can you guess?" I said, "If I guess right, will you admit it?" Lan said, "If you can guess right the first time." I immediately said, "You're a reporter." I saw a hint of surprise flash across
Lan 's face. I asked her, " You guessed right ,
didn't you?" Lan said, "What makes you think I'm a reporter? " I said, "Because I am too, I can smell the journalist on you." As I spoke, I sniffed her neck hard, making her ticklish and giggle. Before the reform and opening up, the mention of prostitutes would inevitably conjure images of blood and tears, fiery pits, and dens of dragons and tigers. But not anymore. Modern prostitutes use their sexual organs as a means of production, a tool that provides them with a steady stream of income. At least among the prostitutes I've met, most are there voluntarily. Lan is an exception. Lan is an entertainment reporter for a newspaper in N city, and quite well-known, earning a good income. Lan's involvement as a prostitute is purely instinctive; she started by wanting to take a risk, but it spiraled out of control. Because she's not a professional, Lan can freely choose her clients; she doesn't work for everyone. I was able to negotiate her price down so low because I looked somewhat cultured. I recalled a novel that described a female government official's experience as a prostitute—a mid-level official at that—who worked in a dilapidated shack, accepting all comers. Later, Lan and I became very good friends, which made me both happy and regretful. I was happy that we had become friends and could talk about anything; I was regretful that I could no longer make those kinds of demands on Lan, and that wonderful night with her could only remain in my memory. Third, Zhuzhu was the prostitute with whom I maintained a business relationship the longest. I originally worked in L city, and later moved to N city. The two cities are more than 200 kilometers apart, and there's a highway between them, so I often went back to L city. I have many friends there, and a company owes me many favors. Every time I went back to L city, I stayed at a hotel called Yingbin Hotel, and the company paid my bills. Last New Year's Day, I drove back from N city, but that night I got drunk and accidentally scratched a car door while backing up. I needed to find someone to repaint it. Luckily, a friend of mine was a mechanic; he used to work at Yingbin Hotel, but after resigning, he opened his own auto repair shop. When I contacted him, he asked me where I was staying. I said, "The usual place, Yingbin Hotel." A friend said, "There's a beautiful woman over there, do you know?" At midnight, someone knocked on my door. I opened it and saw a young woman. She said, "Is she a pretty girl?" In this post, I'll call her Zhu. Zhu isn't the kind of girl who's conventionally beautiful, but she's very good at being charming and endearing. To be honest, I wasn't particularly interested that night, but I kept her there because of Zhu's captivating appearance. Zhu possesses a genuine inner beauty, which you only discover after she removes her clothes. Then you'll understand what the phrase "skin like cream" means. Zhu's skin is like jade, without a single blemish. She's slender but not thin, plump but not fat. Her breasts are just the right size, slightly drooping before perking up, looking both proud and playful. If there's one flaw, it's that Zhu's hips are a little large, but that also adds to her charm. My eyes lit up, I swallowed hard, and I carried Zhu into the bathroom like a whirlwind. To not have a passionate encounter with such a beauty would be a waste of a gift from heaven. Later, every time I returned to L city, I would ask Zhu to spend a night with me. Gradually, we became familiar. One morning, I went out to run errands while Zhu was still sleeping in the room. Afterwards, I was in a hurry to get back to N city and didn't bother to go back to the hotel to pay the bill. The company that paid my room bill was quite something; they always left an extra two or three hundred yuan for me in advance. I thought this would be a good deal for Zhu. But when I gave her the money again, she said, "No need, I still have over two hundred yuan left after I paid for you last time." For a moment, I was actually quite moved. In this day and age, morality has declined, and many people have forgotten the existence of morality. Yet, a prostitute adhered to the ethics of her profession. This is one of the reasons why I still cherish Zhu. During my conversation with Zhu, I learned that she was only 21 years old and had twin sisters, both of whom were in university. She became a prostitute mainly to support her sisters' education. After graduating from high school, Zhu worked as a factory worker, but given her family's circumstances, supporting two university students was quite difficult, so she turned to prostitution. On good nights, she could earn over a thousand yuan a night. Zhu said that required four or five times a night, leaving her physically exhausted. She also said she would stop after her sisters graduated and go back to find someone to marry. Zhu usually came to spend the night with me. Her arrival time was unpredictable, sometimes around 11 or 12, sometimes 1 or 2 or 3. I knew that when Zhu came to be with me, perhaps half an hour earlier, another man had just left her. I didn't care or concern myself with that. So, we sometimes did it, sometimes we didn't. When we didn't, we would watch [V] channels and chat. Zhu would tell me about her childhood, her first love, and her virginity. The last time I saw Zhu was in late November last year. That night, I went gambling and lost everything. The two or three hundred yuan my workplace had set aside for me was for my toll and gas money back to N city, so I had no tip to give Zhu. I thought about borrowing some from a friend, but Zhu said, "No need, I'll give it to you next time." I thought that was fine. This time, I transferred back to L city for work and took some time to go to the guesthouse to see Zhu. The main building there was under construction, and I was worried about the potential consequences. I called Zhu several times, but she never answered. I didn't know if Zhu was still in L city. I felt a little lost and ashamed—I still owed a prostitute a tip. IV. Ju

As I mentioned before, just as walking at night too often leads to encountering ghosts, so too does frequenting prostitution sometimes result in encountering prostitutes who don't charge you. I had such an experience with Ju, which, in my opinion, probably doesn't even qualify as prostitution.
Last summer, I went on a business trip to a coastal city. There were four of us, and only I had a driver's license, so the task of driving naturally fell to me. I only got my driver's license for fun, so I rarely drove long distances. We arrived at our destination that day, and the next day we drove around the city for business. After two days, we were exhausted. But that night, my colleagues wanted to hire prostitutes.
We were staying at a hotel, and the person who received us only arranged two rooms. Two older men shared one room, and I shared another guy's. The prostitutes were all in the hotel's beauty salon, about twenty or thirty of them. I was too tired to be interested, but I really wanted a massage, so I asked if there was anyone who was particularly good at massage. One girl said yes, Sister Ju was the best. Ju was the oldest among the group of girls, somewhat like a young manager. These kinds of girls usually don't take clients, and if they do, the price is higher. But I just wanted a massage to relax, so I called Ju.
The four girls followed us to the room. The young man in the room, seeing we were getting a massage, didn't want to be in such a hurry, so he just went along for a massage. Ju was wearing a short skirt, and there were a few small red bumps on her calves. I jokingly asked her if it was syphilis.
Ju slapped me and scolded, "Don't talk nonsense! These are mosquito bites. I hate mosquito bites; they hurt and itch."
I said, "Aren't you going to put some medicine on them?"
Ju said, "I don't know what medicine to put on."
Ju's massage technique was indeed excellent. After the massage, I paid her. Seeing the young man's eager expression, I decided to give him the room. I'm not used to being in a group, so I said to Ju, "Let's go get some late-night snacks. You gave me such a good massage; I'll buy you a beer." Ju actually agreed.
On my way to get a late-night snack, I passed a pharmacy and bought Ju a tube of Wuji Ointment. Back at the food stall, I applied it to Ju's little red bumps, and it worked very well. Ju was very happy, saying the itching was gone. Some of my friends probably already know my profession at the time; this kind of job requires being particularly good at dealing with strangers. I kept trying to keep Ju talking. When she was pouring beer, I pointed out her incorrect pouring technique and demonstrated it for her. I also explained how to pour baijiu (Chinese white liquor) and wine, which Ju listened to with great interest.
After our late-night snack, Ju asked me to take her home. I asked her, "Aren't you going back to your hotel?" Ju said, "A friend of mine is working as a stepmother there. She asked me to help out, but I have to go to work tomorrow."
I thought to myself, "Just as I expected, Ju is indeed a stepmother."
When we arrived at Ju's building, Ju said, "Come up and sit for a bit, have a drink of water. Your friend won't be here so soon."
Ju lived on the second floor. She looked around and then went to take a shower. The VCD was an adult film, I think it was Veronica Yip's "I'm Crazy for You".
A little while later, Ju returned, a large bath towel wrapped around her body. She sat down beside me and hugged me. Seeing her and feeling her embrace, I immediately pulled off the towel. Unlike any I'd ever seen before, this was the body of a mother. From breastfeeding, her nipples were somewhat deformed, and there were marks on her lower abdomen, where it should have been firm and smooth. I stroked them with a sense of adoration. Ju said she had a son who was already in kindergarten and missed him very much.
After finishing my business, I had to leave. Ju wanted me to stay, but I refused. I was afraid my friends at the hotel would worry about me; if I didn't come home all night, they might think I'd been murdered for money.
Ju reluctantly saw me downstairs. I took out 200 yuan and offered it to her, but she shook her head. I took her hand and placed the money in her palm.
Ju hugged me, kissed me, and said, "You're different from other men. I won't take your money." She put the money in my shirt pocket.
I smiled and said, "In bed, I'm no different from other men."
"It's different," Ju said. "Only you would buy me medicine, bring me late-night snacks, break my chopsticks, and teach me how to pour wine. You give me a different feeling, and the feeling during sex is different too. I just experienced my first pleasure in years."
The light was dim, but I could still see tears welling up in Ju's eyes.
Ju turned and went upstairs, returning with an eyebrow pencil. She unbuttoned my shirt and wrote her pager number on my not-so-muscular chest. Ju hoped I could still come to see her, even if it was just to say hello.

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Several prostitutes that I remember most vividly

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