happened this afternoon, I was afraid that Alissa and her guilt would try to poke through.
*
My next client was the worst kind to get. He was about five-foot-four and had to weigh at least five hundred pounds—none of which was muscle. Not to mention he was sweaty and reeked of onions. I made a mental note to ask Bruce to remove all of the smelly dishes from the menu. Either that or make the guys brush their teeth before they came back to the room.
“Hey, baby,” I cooed as soon as the door clicked shut behind me. “My name is Lisa. I’m gonna take real good care of you tonight.” I’d managed to get through my session with Thomas without losing my shit. This guy, however, wasn’t going to be as easy.
“Well aren’t you a sweet piece of ass,” Tubby said between labored breaths. He was most likely winded from the walk to the room, as opposed to arousal. He yanked down his sweat pants and awkwardly lay down on the floor. Realization hit me that his stomach fat would make his prick completely inaccessible if he sat in the chair, assuming the chair would even hold him. I turned my back for a second so he wouldn’t see me gag.
“My name is Lisa, my name is Lisa, my name is Lisa,” I chanted barely above a whisper. With closed eyes and even breaths, I should have easily slipped back into character, but it wasn’t working. Panic coursed through my veins when I realized Lisa wasn’t coming to save me.
Grasping at straws, I searched my mind for images of Tate Parker. If I couldn’t be someone else, maybe I could convince my brain that he was. The insanely hot actor eluded me; all I could see was Carter. I tried to picture Thomas, but even though I’d just been with him, I couldn’t conjure his face.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Carter’s devastated gaze staring back at me. He’d given me the most sensual experience of my life, and I’d turned around and fucked Thomas. Hell, I hadn’t even thought of him when I was with Thomas. And now I was getting ready to fuck another guy. I hadn’t made any promises to Carter, but I knew it didn’t make a difference. I really was a whore, and not just by trade.
“Time’s a wastin’, sweet cheeks,” Tubby said from his spot on the floor. I took another deep breath and dropped my robe. There was no way I’d be able to pretend that Tubby was Tate or Thomas or even Carter. With my brain fully engaged, I had no choice but to fully experience this.
After rolling a condom onto his length, or lack thereof, I lubed him up as thoroughly as I could. Carefully, I lowered myself onto his disgusting body. My eyes remained firmly closed as I gyrated my hips at a torrid pace. I kept fighting to get out of my head, but nothing worked. Tears welled behind my eyelids every time he reached up and groped my exposed flesh.
Bruce’s policy was twenty minutes or one happy ending, whichever came first. I peeked through my watery lashes at him, and was relieved to see his face twisted in some disgusting form of pleasure. With renewed determination, I bounced up and down as quickly as I could until he grunted and then stilled beneath me.
When the room monitor sounded the buzzer, I nearly jumped to my feet and wrapped myself up in the pink robe. Wanting to ensure the biggest tip possible, I looked back and said, “God, baby, that was amazing.” I gave him my sultriest smile and then left the room.
Although I’d sold myself to hundreds of men, I hadn’t felt like this since the night before Lisa was born all those years ago—violated. Johnny, the room monitor, said something as I passed his station, but none of it registered. The second I was sure no one would see me, I took off my heels and sprinted to the locker room; I couldn’t get to the shower fast enough.
I tossed my wig and shoes on the makeup counter as I dashed by and barely made it to a bathroom stall in time to vomit up everything I’d eaten that day. It was as if Carter were haunting me. Even as I hurled, I
*
My next client was the worst kind to get. He was about five-foot-four and had to weigh at least five hundred pounds—none of which was muscle. Not to mention he was sweaty and reeked of onions. I made a mental note to ask Bruce to remove all of the smelly dishes from the menu. Either that or make the guys brush their teeth before they came back to the room.
“Hey, baby,” I cooed as soon as the door clicked shut behind me. “My name is Lisa. I’m gonna take real good care of you tonight.” I’d managed to get through my session with Thomas without losing my shit. This guy, however, wasn’t going to be as easy.
“Well aren’t you a sweet piece of ass,” Tubby said between labored breaths. He was most likely winded from the walk to the room, as opposed to arousal. He yanked down his sweat pants and awkwardly lay down on the floor. Realization hit me that his stomach fat would make his prick completely inaccessible if he sat in the chair, assuming the chair would even hold him. I turned my back for a second so he wouldn’t see me gag.
“My name is Lisa, my name is Lisa, my name is Lisa,” I chanted barely above a whisper. With closed eyes and even breaths, I should have easily slipped back into character, but it wasn’t working. Panic coursed through my veins when I realized Lisa wasn’t coming to save me.
Grasping at straws, I searched my mind for images of Tate Parker. If I couldn’t be someone else, maybe I could convince my brain that he was. The insanely hot actor eluded me; all I could see was Carter. I tried to picture Thomas, but even though I’d just been with him, I couldn’t conjure his face.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Carter’s devastated gaze staring back at me. He’d given me the most sensual experience of my life, and I’d turned around and fucked Thomas. Hell, I hadn’t even thought of him when I was with Thomas. And now I was getting ready to fuck another guy. I hadn’t made any promises to Carter, but I knew it didn’t make a difference. I really was a whore, and not just by trade.
“Time’s a wastin’, sweet cheeks,” Tubby said from his spot on the floor. I took another deep breath and dropped my robe. There was no way I’d be able to pretend that Tubby was Tate or Thomas or even Carter. With my brain fully engaged, I had no choice but to fully experience this.
After rolling a condom onto his length, or lack thereof, I lubed him up as thoroughly as I could. Carefully, I lowered myself onto his disgusting body. My eyes remained firmly closed as I gyrated my hips at a torrid pace. I kept fighting to get out of my head, but nothing worked. Tears welled behind my eyelids every time he reached up and groped my exposed flesh.
Bruce’s policy was twenty minutes or one happy ending, whichever came first. I peeked through my watery lashes at him, and was relieved to see his face twisted in some disgusting form of pleasure. With renewed determination, I bounced up and down as quickly as I could until he grunted and then stilled beneath me.
When the room monitor sounded the buzzer, I nearly jumped to my feet and wrapped myself up in the pink robe. Wanting to ensure the biggest tip possible, I looked back and said, “God, baby, that was amazing.” I gave him my sultriest smile and then left the room.
Although I’d sold myself to hundreds of men, I hadn’t felt like this since the night before Lisa was born all those years ago—violated. Johnny, the room monitor, said something as I passed his station, but none of it registered. The second I was sure no one would see me, I took off my heels and sprinted to the locker room; I couldn’t get to the shower fast enough.
I tossed my wig and shoes on the makeup counter as I dashed by and barely made it to a bathroom stall in time to vomit up everything I’d eaten that day. It was as if Carter were haunting me. Even as I hurled, I
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