My first experience with a “Working Girl” could well have been my last.

It was a hot summer in Hawkes Bay, and I had found the New Zealand Girls Website a few days before. After some cursory investigation, I made my choice. There was no picture, but the age of the lady and her Scandanavian sounding name swayed me. Well, I guess I was a little naive. I rang. She answered. A time was agreed.

The address was an easy ten minutes walk away, so ten minutes or so before the appointed time, off I went. I rang the bell and an attractive wonam answered. The exchange was made and I headed for the shower. The house was very nice. It had a pleasent open plan feel and was light but cool.

I came back from the shower and entered the bedroom I had been shown into earlier. I watched as she removed her dress and underwear. Her body was trim, with small breasts and and she was neatly shaven.

Unlike later experinces, I felt a bit unsure about protocol and making sure my agenda was followed, so we basically just got down to it, in a number of positions, and hard work it was too. The heat of the day didn’t help, and the bedroom began to feel smaller and claustrophobic.

Eventually, the time was nearly up, so I returned to the shower, unsure who I felt more sorry for, myself or the poor lady I had been humping for nearly three quarters of an hour.

I showered and dressed and we said our goodbyes, then I went outside and had a heart attack right there stood on the front step.

Yep - my first experience of paid for sex, and my first heart attack all in the same hour (and five minutes).

I felt like shit. Pain in my chest and predominantly down my left hand arm. I stood still for a minute or so, and then started to walk away, slowly. I made it bach to my hotel and collapsed on the bed. The pain eased, but was still too intense to put up with, so I walked to the nearest pharmacy for pain killers and aspirin. Swallowing plenty of both, I slept for 4 hours, then swallowed some more. Repeat and then fell asleep, waking at lunch time, feeling much better.

I was hungry so I went and found some lunch, and rested again.

Monday, I went back to work.

I had a good idea what had happened to me, and a visit to the cardiologist confirmed it, so my first visit to a Working Girl, could have been my last.

I survived, and I’m here to tell the tale, so you would say I was lucky. Stupid but not ignorant, I would say.