Thursday, September 27, 2012

Jealous


Okay, the funny thing about turning tricks again is that as soon as you start it feels like you've been doing it your whole life, right? So, let me tell you about my first 20 tricks, and then I'll stop, because by then I'll be too bored. The first one from my ad is in Porter Square, why do I keep ending up in Porter Square? At least it's on the Red Line.

We’re making out and his breath is awful but I'm just pretending not to notice, although after a while I can't take it anymore so I start sucking his dick and he says oh, you're so good at that, oh, yes, oh, yes, he's really moaning so I pull away a bit and start jerking him off with spit and then he grabs my face with both hands and pulls me up so he can look me right in the eyes and then I have to study his pasty complexion, so many colors of pink and red in his white white skin and then he makes some noise between a whine and a shriek, can't tell if it's pleasure or pain but then he says Tyler, I love you. I love you – I love you, Tyler.

Is not holding my head anymore so I start kissing his neck, but then he pulls my head back and looks me in the eyes again: I love you. I go back to kissing his neck, trying to make it as passionate as possible, but here he goes again pulling my head back and I realize he's surprisingly strong. Say that you love me, he says. Say it.

There's a lot I will say to these tricks – you know, role-play, fantasies, whatever – but I'm not going to say I love you. That's tired – I'm not going to lie like that. It's demeaning.

Trick number two is on the other end of the Red Line, actually past the Red Line because I have to take the commuter rail and then wait for him to pick me up. This is a coke trick, he told me ahead of time, and yes, honey, this coke is good, the only problem is that we have to have sex. I forgot how much I hate having sex on coke — neither of us can get hard and everything he does to me feels like the most annoying thing ever until he says do you want to do some more blow? Yes, please, but then I can't even enjoy the high because he's pulling at my dick or poking at my asshole with his fingers, telling me how beautiful it is. Oh it's so beautiful, he keeps saying, staring at my asshole, and I kind of want to smack him I mean I would be hard since you behind me and I guess I could pretend to lose my balance and sit on my face but he would probably love that anyway. Yeah I want to fuck that asshole, he says, and I just play along because I know he's never going to get hard, and then we do more coke and he tells me I have the prettiest asshole he's ever seen, is that supposed to be a compliment?

Soon enough an hour’s up so I ask him if he wants me to stay longer, yes he does but he acts surprised that I'm charging by the hour. He says I thought maybe we could just hang out and do more blow, and enjoy ourselves. Obviously that's when I should say let's get going, but I'm already crashing, dammit, so then we're doing line after line and I'm so wired it's like my head is going to pop and now I can't keep myself from laughing whenever he grabs my dick, yuck, but then whenever I decide to leave I start to crash, could I already be crashing that fast I mean coke is ridiculous and he says do you want to do some more, yes, but then that means his scratchy mouth is back on my dick and I'm making faces in the mirror, sticking out my tongue, opening my mouth all big, posing for the mirror – you, bitch, yes, you. Who the hell has a mirror like this in the bedroom, well, you know.

I need a fucking cocktail, that's what I'm thinking, but he already told me he doesn't drink, he's in the program. Um, what program is that? Has it really been two more hours? Get me in the fucking shower — feels good at first, but then I'm starting to feel strung out to hell so after I get dressed I say can I get another line for the road. Sure, he says, as long as I can get some more action. I wonder if this is how hookers get violent, but he's dressed too, so I figure he’s just kidding, and he does lay out two huge lines, I'm not sure if one is for me and one for him but I do both anyway, yes yes yes yes yes but just when I start to close my eyes he's trying to kiss me again and I try not to grimace when I say I need to go before the train stops running.

Can I see you again, he says, and I say sure, even though I'm thinking no way in hell, and when I finally get home I'm a total mess. Abby’s getting dressed for the girl block — are you okay, she says. Oh my God, I say, I did way too much coke, way too much, and Abby says she's jealous, but I say bitch if you saw this guy you would not be jealous.

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