1. “Mark – Miami, hotel room”
I booked a beautiful hotel room in Miami Beach just for myself king bed, balcony, ocean view, the whole deal. I’d been stressed for weeks, so I treated myself to a relaxing night and thought an escort could make it even better. Everything felt exciting: the wine chilling in the bucket, the soft music playing, the warm Miami night breeze coming through the balcony door.
When she texted that she was on her way up, I actually felt a bit of butterflies. She knocked, I opened the door…
And instantly regretted everything.
Her breath hit me like a physical force. Not “oops, forgot gum,” but a sharp, sour smell that made me instantly step back. It was so strong I genuinely felt my eyes sting. She smiled and moved closer, talking nonstop, leaning into my face and each word carried that awful smell with it.
I tried everything: turning my head, taking a sip of wine so I could keep my mouth near the glass, pretending I needed to adjust the AC… but she kept inching closer. My stomach was twisting. I couldn’t focus on anything she said because I was too busy figuring out how not to gag.
Every bit of anticipation evaporated. The idea of kissing her or getting intimate was impossible.
After ten excruciating minutes, I told her I suddenly wasn’t feeling well. I guided her to the door as gently as I could, then the second it closed, I rushed to open the balcony wide and just stood there breathing fresh air like someone who’d survived a gas leak.
That night changed the way I book forever.
2. “Jason – Chicago, her apartment”
She insisted on hosting at her place, which already made me hesitate. But curiosity got the better of me, and I drove over to her apartment on the north side of Chicago. The moment she opened the door, I felt a wave of regret wash over me.
The smell from inside was a punch in the face old food, stale air, and something damp. I stepped in carefully, looking around, and immediately saw the chaos: piles of clothes everywhere, empty food containers on the floor, a blanket thrown over the couch like someone had only half-attempted to hide a mess.
She sat on the couch and patted the spot next to her. I sat down slowly and that’s when I noticed her fingernails. They were not just unpolished; they were dirty. Actually dirty. Blackness under the nails, grime around the edges. I felt my entire body tense.
She got closer, touching my arm, and I felt myself physically freeze. I couldn’t relax. I couldn’t imagine letting those hands anywhere near me.
Everything in me screamed, “Get out. Now.”
So I made up the quickest excuse I could: a “work emergency.” I answered my phone like it was ringing (it wasn’t), stood up mid-conversation, and said I had to leave immediately.
I walked out without looking back. The relief I felt seeing the city lights outside again was unreal.
3. “Leo – Phoenix, roadside motel”
I was on a long drive through Arizona and figured I’d book a quick session in Phoenix to unwind. She told me to meet her at a motel right off the highway. Not the fanciest plan, but I’d already paid the deposit, so I thought: “How bad can it be?”
Turns out… very bad.
She opened the door, and it was obvious within two seconds that she was drunk. Not a little buzzed — fully, slurringly drunk. Her eyes were glassy, her steps uneven, her speech drifting all over the place. She kept giggling at random things and forgetting what she was saying mid-sentence.
The room smelled like a mix of cheap vodka, old carpet, and this sweet plastic scent from her half-empty perfume bottle spilled on the dresser. She tried pulling me toward the bed, but she kept losing balance and grabbing my shoulders for support.
The whole situation felt unsafe like I was in a room with someone who could collapse any moment. The vibe wasn’t sexy. It was tense, awkward, and honestly uncomfortable in a way that stuck with me.
I gently told her I wasn’t comfortable going ahead. She just shrugged, flopped onto the bed, and mumbled something I couldn’t understand.
I walked out fast, feeling weirdly shaken. Definitely my last motel meetup.
4. “Brandon – Atlanta, in her car”
She said she was “between places right now” and could only meet in her car. I wasn’t thrilled about the idea, but her photos were nice and she seemed sweet over text, so I decided to give it a shot.
I opened the door to her car and immediately knew I’d made a mistake.
The smell inside was suffocating thick vape residue mixed with old fast-food bags tossed onto the floor. Crumpled napkins, half-empty cups, makeup scattered everywhere. It looked like someone lived in that car full-time.
She kept scratching her arms like she was irritated or stressed, shifting in her seat constantly. She leaned over to touch me, but the combination of the smell, the clutter, the weird scratchy movements, and the feeling of being trapped in a tiny, messy space killed every ounce of desire.
I blurted out, “I think I left my wallet in my car.” She nodded without suspicion.
I stepped out… and just kept walking. I got in my car, drove away, and didn’t stop until I hit the freeway.
I still feel a wave of discomfort thinking about the inside of that car.
5. “Chris – Las Vegas, her condo”
Vegas can be unpredictable, but this… wow.
She welcomed me with a bright smile and invited me into her condo. At first glance, everything looked normal clean-ish, modern furniture, soft lighting. I relaxed. Maybe this would be a great night.
Then I sat on the couch.
My hand stuck to the cushion. Not metaphorically literally stuck. The fabric was sticky, like someone had spilled a sugary drink and never cleaned it properly. I pulled my hand off and tried not to make a face.
But then she approached and instantly I understood why something felt off.
Her intimate hygiene was… not okay. The smell hit me a second before she got close. It was sharp, stale, and honestly overwhelming. My mind went blank. There was no way to work past that. Not mentally, not physically.
My instincts kicked in. I stepped back, apologized, and said I suddenly felt sick. She seemed confused, maybe even offended, but I couldn’t stay another second.
I walked out into the hallway, inhaled deeply, and felt this wave of relief mixed with disappointment. Vegas nights are wild but that one was unforgettable in the worst way.
6. “Dylan – New York City, hotel suite”
I booked a high-end escort in Manhattan expecting a professional, smooth experience. I’d chosen a nice hotel suite, showered, prepared everything, feeling excited.
She arrived almost an hour late, and when I opened the door she didn’t even say hello. She just brushed past me, dropped her bag on the table, and immediately started yelling into her phone about something that sounded like an argument with another client or maybe a boyfriend.
For five straight minutes she shouted into her phone while pacing the room. I stood there awkwardly, wondering if I should leave my own suite.
When she finally hung up, she turned to me with this annoyed expression, like I’d somehow inconvenienced her. Her energy was cold, dismissive, and honestly rude. She asked what I wanted in a tone that felt confrontational, not seductive.
The mood didn’t just die it evaporated entirely.
I told her politely that I wasn’t feeling the connection and wanted to end the booking. She rolled her eyes, muttered something under her breath, grabbed her things, and stormed out like I’d just ruined her night.
I closed the door behind her and just sat on the edge of the bed, feeling relieved and surprised at how quickly everything went downhill.
