Teradži, Septembro 3, 2008

Everyone has their bad days on the job and it really does not matter who that person is or what job that person is working. But today that person was me and the job I was working was, well, everyone knows what job I was working. My agent had scheduled an appointment in the middle of the day for me and everything seemed to me about as normal as normal could be, and I was ready to tackle it head on even though I had been in some kind of mood for most of the afternoon after a few dull and uninspiring gentlemen. But when the client finally arrived and I opened the door to greet him I was met not with cash but with a flashback.

It was Justin, out of all the people in the world.

Justin was a former client of mine from the days when I was working outcalls as an independent. In fact he was my first full service client ever and because of that I had allowed myself to become somewhat attached to him. In the past sex had been involved in my fetish sessions but that sex was never part of the arrangement and was always just a hair breadth away from sexual assault, or it was sexual assault depending on your angle, seeing as it was never something that I intended on providing and was often something which the client intended on taking. This meant that when I finally went into the world of full service provisions I was nervous and had baggage, and when Justin turned up as my first client much of that baggage was abandoned.

Justin is very clean and very athletic and very attractive. He listens to thoughtful music performed by thoughtful and brilliant women, is a practicing Buddhist or something, and keeps an immaculate apartment that is designed in very tasteful fashion. In fact when I first met him I thought that he might have been a gay man but I was wrong. He was intelligent and friendsome and we had some very good conversations whenever we met, and he did turn out to be a regular client. This always suited me just fine because I would have fucked him for free, he was just so damn compelling and hot. He was the perfect client in so many ways and my local friends always knew when I had seen him because of the glow about me. Which is why it confused me when he stopped scheduling time with me and vanished from sight. I would have called but in the end he was just a client after all and clients are sometimes lost, that and the phone which contained his digits was destroyed by own laundromat incompetence.

So there he was standing in the door and there I was standing without any clothes on. He just stared at me and I just stared at him. "You...?" It was all I could say in that moment. "You aren't the girl in the picture..." was all that he could say in the moment. No hello, no inquiries into how I have been, none of that. Just a quick and disappointed appraisal. I explained to him that I had begun to work with an agent and that they insisted on using false photographs. He stared at me a little while longer before turning around and walking out, slamming the door behind him. It shook me. I wanted to run out into the hall and call him back, hurl an insult at him, invite him over for coffee, any one from a number of things. But there was the small matter of not wearing any clothes so instead I just crawled into the hotel bed and sat there in the quiet.