edited: Wednesday, July 03, 2002
By Heidi A Greenhaw
Posted: Wednesday, July 03, 2002
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Was pondering the life of a prostitute and this is what I wrote....
Lookin for a date Mr.?”
“Sure baby. How much?”
“Twenty for a blow and forty for the works.”
“Get in baby. I want the works.”
He opens the car door and I slide in next to him. Another business man probably in town for the night.
“I got a place right around the corner.13th and Thomas.”
“Sure little darling. Do I pay now or later?”
“When we get there. Cool?”
“Yah…cool with me.”
He pulls up and I escort him to my tiny apartment. I start lighting candles and tell him to relax. It’s so automatic with me these days. He lays down two twenty dollar bills on the kitchen table. I put them in my purse.
“I’m gonna go change okay? Make yourself comfy baby, I’ll be right back.”
I can hear him undressing in the living room. I wonder how many times he visits us ladies. Is he married? Kids?
I slip on my long see through robe that laces up the front. Rub some rouge on my nipples and put on some more lipstick.
There he is, lying down on my bed, ready to go.
“Come here you hot little tart.”
I strut towards him like I always do. I let him take my clothes off and then I start in on him. I’m pretty good at faking just about anything. I haven’t had a real orgasm by a man in over two years. I wiggle and stroke, gasp and clench like I’m having the time of my life.
“Yah baby, just like that….you are so good!”
That’s about the time they orgasm and I can call it an evening.
I pretend to be exhausted and deeply satisfied. They tip better when they think they made me happier than the other men.
He gets dressed and departs.
I put on my work clothes and head back out to the streets.
Mamma always said there was a sucker born every minute.