Rented Pleasure

9 years and 6 months ago The air conditioning wakes me up and the cold awakens me. I don't recognize where I am. It looks like a hotel room judging by the bed and nightstand devoid of everything. I have no idea how I got here. I see myself tied hand and foot, open and naked on the cold mattress. I blink to accustom my eyes to the dim light in the room. I don't hear anything, just my breathing and the sound of the air conditioning fan.Then I remember.The man had offered me two hundred dollars for a blow job. My shift wasn't even over and I wasn't interested in falling into it. I refused and told my partner to take care of him because I was not feeling well.I do not want to offer myself as bait or as a recipient of men. Once was more than enough. I hope to give myself the next time out of love for a man who values ​​and loves me.I try to remember what else happened, but nothing comes. I have a blank mind.

 Present "Sign here, please." "The man looks at the paper and then at me."I am unfazed.My hand is on the paper where it specifies what I accept and what not, apart from establishing my price and my privacy conditions.Ten years ago I gave my virginity to an alcoholic. Although I would have liked my first experience to be under the moon, with love and delicacy, the reality is different. I believe that not all of us get what we think we deserve."Doesn't it work on my word?" The dark”haired, almond”eyed boy asks.He is good looking. I don't understand why you seek my company even though you could get girls your age with a little lip service.At twenty”eight, I evaluate the people around me without speaking to me. Attitudes scream what we are. How we walk and what we drink on a date, how we dress and how we comb our hair, how we smile and h

I hear the door click as it closes.Never in my life had my heart beat so fast.Devils! It's like being a fucking virgin again.Not even in my years of unintentional celibacy was I so expectant.My palms suddenly turned cold and my breathing disappeared for a few seconds.What's happening to me?“Take off your dress. He looks me in the eye.Although it is an order and I am used to being given them in the room and I following them, I don't know why I stare at him without doing anything.He has to assume that I am prepared to comply with what he says, but I can't even move.I cannot classify myself as shy, as I have done things that people in their forties cannot imagine doing, from sex tied up and with toys to shit with threesomes and orgies.I am not a saint nor am I interested in being one.The sins that I have committed have led me to be who I am regardless of who I lost along the way and the opport

I try to focus on what I do in my day to day since my devil gave me the best orgasm of my life and then he slammed the door in my face. He left a thousand dollars on the bed. I feel, even days later, more used than normal. Knowing me how I do it, doing what I do, I have never been paid to have an orgasm.Just thinking about it and remembering that exact moment my legs fail me.I guess the preamble increased my frenzy and my enjoyment. Looking at him and not knowing his name, his body, the way he looked at me, as if he could taste me without touching me… Those actions made me feel stronger.I know.I think so."Miss," the woman behind the desk calls me, "you follow."I don't know why I decided to come to this interview. I don't feel like employing myself or relying on a nine”hour schedule, but I need to distract myself and get that dark”haired, hazel”eyed man off me. It bothers me to give importance to those who do no

Damn the day I decided to forget about my devil looking for a job at this stupid company.I feel like I'm going to throw up. Something in him, in his face, in the way he looked at me, made me think I knew him from something. The truth is that I had not seen it, not years ago and not for any type of business. However, he, Dominic Dosther, did see me. Now he does it as a murderer evaluates his prey."If you'll excuse me, I will end this interview." I squeeze the handle of the briefcase and hurry out of the office.I can't remember the last time I felt so embarrassed. I've never been used to asking anyone for help, maybe before my mother died. However, after taking care of Joshua, I tried never to need anyone.Only then, when I had no money to save him and my savings and salary had gone to drugs, was that when I looked for Morton Craig for the only time."Miss Michaels," I hear them calling, but I don't turn. I can't see that conceited face again.