I Fell for a Working Lady, and It Was a Complete Disaster
I never thought it would happen to me, but I made one of the biggest mistakes a punter can make. I fell for a working lady. What started out as a casual arrangement spiraled into one of the most complicated periods of my life, and in the end, it was a complete disaster.
She was young and beautiful, the type who was picky and often rejected customers. Life had been tough on her, and she was working in a brothel to make ends meet. By chance, I ended up being her very first customer, and surprisingly, her last.
For about six or seven months, we saw each other across brothels, hotel rooms, and even cars. In the beginning, it was purely transactional, at least for me. But over time, the boundaries blurred, and things went much further than I ever expected.
It started the night she said she had forgotten to bring a condom. Instead of stopping, she asked if I was okay with going natural as long as I did not finish inside her. At first I was shocked, but I agreed. That was the turning point. With the barrier gone, a stronger connection formed, one that went well beyond the physical.
I began to care for her. I wanted to know about her daily life. I looked out for her. The transactional nature of what we had was gone. Then, one night, she rang me in tears, saying she thought she might be pregnant.
I rushed to see her, and when it was confirmed, my life changed completely. The weight of reality hit me hard, because I was already engaged to another woman.
The working lady wasn’t supposed to replace my fiancée. She had been filling in the gaps I felt were missing in my relationship. But now she was carrying a child, and I couldn’t just walk away. I wanted to support her no matter what decision she made, though deep down, I wanted her to keep the baby.
She soon asked where this was really going. Were we dating? Moving in together? Or was it just complicated? I couldn’t turn my back on her, so I rented another home and told her she could move in. That was the start of me living two separate lives in the same city.
To make it work, I had two phones, two cars, two different identities. My fiancée believed I was away frequently due to my work with the military. She even dropped me at the airport sometimes, completely unaware that I would take a Uber back to the rented house where my other life was waiting. I would call her late at night pretending I was overseas, when in reality, I was just across town.
At first I managed it, but it drained me.
As if two lives weren’t enough, I was also leading a third. When I was working in Central Africa, I lived completely as a single man, sleeping with women there and hiding my life back home. Between the time zones, the travel, and the chaos of my situation, it was almost unbearable.
I have done grim things while serving, but this mess ranks among my worst regrets. Even after all this, I offered the WL financial support, a car, even the house if she wanted it. She refused. I felt ashamed, guilty, and much older than I really was.
Eventually, she called me one night, saying she thought she was miscarrying. I rushed to the hospital, and when we saw each other, we both broke down. That was the turning point.
Not long after, she began to drift away emotionally and eventually moved back in with her parents. To this day, I am still engaged to my fiancée, but those memories haunt me deeply.
Looking back, I realize how reckless and selfish I was. I was juggling three different lives, constantly lying and covering my tracks. I carried burner phones, switched cars, and left no trace anywhere near my fiancée. Not a strand of hair, not a hint of perfume. Everything was compartmentalized.
But no matter how well I thought I controlled the situation, it was unsustainable. A month felt like a year. The only peace I found was during long work trips, ironically in the hours I spent completely alone.
In the end, I have had to accept the truth: I am just a man who let lust make my choices, and it nearly ruined me. It cost me years of my life and left me with scars I cannot easily forget.
Sometimes punting takes unexpected turns, and this story is proof of how quickly things can spiral. I thought I could live three different lives at once. I couldn’t. And even though it has ended now, I still carry the weight every single day.
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