There’s an Update to this story. If you want to read what happened after this, Kindly follow this link 

I’m sharing my story because of the guy who unknowingly went home with a prostitute and nearly got disgraced. After reading his story, I smiled a little and said, “Your case is even better. At least you didn’t know what you signed up for when you met her. As for me, I knew what I was doing. I am just glad to live to tell the tale.”

The one thing that everyone in my life doesn’t know about me is that I am a whoremonger. I mean this by the letter of the word. I am part of the people the Bible has listed in Revelations 21:8 to be burned in the lake of fire if we do not repent. I lived this lifestyle so secretly that you wouldn’t tell by looking at my behaviour in society that I fancied call girls. That’s how much of a hypocrite I am. I am not saying that sins are good, but on that day of my ill-fated encounter, one of my sins saved me from disgrace and social suicide.

Now let me go back to the beginning, I was in high school when I was introduced to my first sex worker. She was the one I gave my virginity to. Ever since that time, I’d never had a girlfriend. No not once. All my sexual experiences were with whores, prostitutes, escorts, hookup girls, pleasure ladies, or whatever name you want to call them.

I am not proud to admit this but I have spent a fortune on these queens of the night. I have explored and experienced all sorts of things with them as well. Even irregular and kinky stuff. I pay for it and they give it to me. It was a quiet and peaceful life for me. No emotional baggage or mess to clean up afterward. Right from high school, through my university days, it went on. When I completed school and landed a stable job, I didn’t change. If anything, I had the means to fund my lifestyle so it got worse.

My job takes me out to the field throughout the week so I am only at home on weekends. Some weekends though, I break down and stay on site. However, when I make it home I go ahead and engage in my favourite secret activities. When I am done, I wash my hands, go to church, and lift up these same hands in worship, as if I am God’s own begotten son. Everyone looks at me and sees a gentleman.

My friends, family, colleagues, neighbours, and even my church members all put me on a pedestal. I am more than a saint in their eyes. Sometimes I shake my head and think, “If only they knew who I truly am, they would find me despicable.”

Anyway, back to the main story. On that fateful Friday, I closed from work feeling very tired. So I decided to visit my favourite call girl and book her for the night. The plan was to have shuperu with her at dawn because I was too exhausted to do anything that night.

Unfortunately, when I got to the brothel I met her absence. My phone’s battery was dead so I couldn’t call her either. I stood at her doorstep thinking of what to do next when one of the girls approached me. I saw how beautiful she looked when she came close and started asking me questions. I told her, “I am looking for Mercy. Where is she?” This new lady checked me out and then said, “Mercy has traveled, but I am here. My  name is Angela, I can take care of you.”

I explained to her that I wanted someone for the night and she agreed to do it. When we got into her room, I felt uncomfortable. I expressed my concerns but she didn’t get mad. Rather, she suggested that we find a guesthouse. “If you like, we can even go to your place,” she added. I was surprised she offered to go home with me because girls from that brothel don’t follow anyone home. Occasionally, they made exceptions for their regular customers, but Angela was only meeting me for the first time.

I should have exercised caution on my part but I thought it was economically wise. That’s why I jumped at the opportunity to take her home. After all, it would save me the extra money I would spend on a guesthouse.

I didn’t want to be seen with her so I snuck her into my room. The moment I closed my door, she started acting as if she was a girlfriend. She asked unnecessary questions. “Are you married?” “ Where are your wife and children?” “What kind of work do you do?” I ignored all her questions thinking she would take the hint but she only saw an opportunity to push harder.

She was so comfortable at my place that she started touching things. She took my AC’s remote and switched on the AC. Then she opened my fridge as if she was looking for leftover food she stored in there. When she closed it, she took my expensive bottle of perfume and started spraying it on herself. I politely asked her to stop touching my stuff but she ignored me. So I got angry and yelled, “Stop that nonsense right now. Why would you come to someone’s room and be acting like this?” That was where my troubles began.

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We were in the hall but she stormed into the bedroom and started undressing. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to shout at you,” I apologized in an attempt to pacify her angry heart. She didn’t mind me. After I took a shower, this girl told me to hurry up and do my thing so she could leave. I asked her about our initial arrangement and she told me she was no longer interested in spending the night with me. I tried my best to persuade her but her answer remained no.

No worries. I wore my protection and began to prepare her for the action. When it got to the part where I would penetrate, she clenched her thighs. I would open her up, only for her to close herself up again. This continued until I asked her, “If this is what you are here for, then why are you denying me access to you?” This lady got angry and started behaving as if I should beg for it. It was frustrating so I told her to dress up and leave.

Six Years Later, His Ex Is Still In The Picture


She wore her clothes while burning with rage. I asked her how much she would take for her troubles and she quoted GHC400. At this point, I also got angry and nearly hit her but I held myself together. Can you blame me though? How can you charge me GHC400 when you didn’t even allow me to do the thing? When I asked her this question, she got angrier. The next thing I knew, she was banging on my door screaming, “Somebody help me! Somebody rescue me from this bad man!” Had it not been me in this hot soup, I would have applauded her stunning performance.

However, I didn’t want her ruckus to wake my co-tenants and landlord so I quickly gave her the money and opened the door for her to leave. After she left, I looked out my windows to see if someone heard us due to her outburst. Luckily, there was no sign that we were heard. I heaved a sigh of relief, took a chilled drink, and went to bed in peace thinking all was well. I was wrong. The problem had just begun.

— JOECLERK

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