The Whore Next Door


The Whore Next Door

I never expected to find love in the arms of a prostitute, but that’s exactly what I found when I met the woman I like to call “The Whore Next Door.”

It all happened rather innocently. I had just moved to a new neighborhood and hadn’t really gotten to know my new neighbors. I was out for a walk one day and heard a woman’s voice coming from her open window. I stopped to listen and found myself mesmerized by the sound. I couldn’t help but look in and that’s when I saw her.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw her. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She was wearing a short red dress with a plunging neckline that showed off her ample cleavage. Her long dark hair cascaded down her back and her deep brown eyes sparkled in the sunlight. I stood there, captivated by her beauty, my heart pounding in my chest.

That’s when I found out she was a prostitute.

At first, I tried to fight my attraction to her. I tried to tell myself she was just a whore, not a real person. But the more I looked at her, the harder that became. She was beautiful inside and out and I soon found myself quite taken with her.

It wasn’t long before I was paying her for her services. We started out meeting for an hour or two, although some days we would end up talking for hours. We discussed everything from the latest news to our shared dreams. We laughed and talked andsoon, we were no longer just client and provider.

We had become friends.

And then one day our friendship turned into something more. We had been talking and laughing, enjoying each other’s company, when there was a sudden electricity in the air. I didn’t know what it was at first, but then I saw her looking into my eyes with a passionate intensity I had never seen before.

Before I knew it, our lips were pressed together and we were in the throes of an intense, passionate kiss. We moved from the living room to the bedroom, shedding our clothes as we went. I explored her body with my hands, every touch making her body quiver with pleasure.

We moved in sync, our bodies melding together and creating an amazing experience. She moaned softly as I explored her curves with my hands, and I drank in her moans of pleasure. We moved together, each thrust bringing us closer and closer, until we both reached orgasm.

We lay in each other’s arms afterwards, both of us trembling and sweating with pleasure. That night, I felt something I had never felt before: love.

We continued to be together, no longer as client and provider, but as lovers. Our relationship grew and flourished, and soon we were talking about getting married. We were both so happy, although I was somewhat wary of telling people that my bride-to-be was a prostitute.

Eventually, we decided to come out with the truth and let the world know that I was in love with The Whore Next Door. To my surprise, most people were surprisingly accepting and understanding. And so, on a warm summer day, we were married.

We’ve been together for several years now, and our love just keeps growing stronger. I still can’t believe that I found love with a prostitute, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world. We may not have a traditional relationship, but our love is real and we are happy.

The Whore Next Door may not have been my first choice in mates, but she has become my soulmate and my wife. We may not have the same kind of love as everyone else, but our love is real and it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.

And that’s the story of The Whore Next Door.