Mid 20's - where I lived there were a lot of parlours, and I popped into a couple of them to look at the lineup, working up the courage. Sex had pretty much dried up with then-gf (familiar story
). Then one day on the way home from the pub I walked in and got a CBJ. Looking back, it was a terrible punt, the (English) girl was clearly wasted and had a big scar down her back. It was enough though, I was hooked. Went back again for another (terrible) BJ, then changed parlours, got a reasonable experience then a very good one with a naughty older black woman.
A few years later, did a couple of street experiences (just CBJ). They used to hang around the route to the bar where I worked, and would ask you "want any business?". Eventually I caved. Always on foot though, never in a car. Those were really fucking seedy, after spending a bit of time talking to one of the prossies, decided I'd never do that again. They just had really sad, messed up lives.
Now I've discovered escorts; much more what I was after in the first place, although I couldn't have afforded it then!