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I thought he'd complain but he didn't. I ended up giving him a massage. His muscles loved it. He remarked that the massage was better than the sex, and when he left, he thanked me personally, the dope. I didn't thank him for nothing, not even the cash, 'cause it wasn't enough. I made sure I spent the whole time pampering his back. At least in this position and while his face was buried in the pillow, he shut the fuck up for awhile and let go with the stupid little insults. He was a bouncer. His whole body was a muscle, including his brain. As one cheerful and gigantic businessman had remarked, 'Oh, those kinds, security guards, footballers, weight-lifters, etc…they're at the lower end of the gene pool.' So it was his power and money that kept him safe, his dark grey suit, his sports car and where he lived. But here we were all in this together. They were with us and we were with them. This ain't no disco, sugar, this pit is the end of the line. Really, none of us were any better than each other, including this paranoid Army sergeant. He got a kick out of the danger of being here, in the presence of a 'bad girl' like me. He had a negative attitude about working girls. They weakened him. But this only added to his stimulation. His dick got off on his dirty little guilt trip. Sex is psychology and vice versa. He said, 'Some of these girls go under four different names and you visit them four different bloody times and it's the same bloody one!' I smiled, 'You gotta watch 'em!' He was chewing gum throughout the entire booking. I massaged his front, my tits dragging in lace. Sharlena said, 'In this job you either learn to love men or you fucking hate them.' I said, 'In some ways it's just like nature. It's brutal but I love it.' I didn't know why.
Roxanne speaks: I drag the tide of youth across their bodies with my touch. A client from Arnhemland said, 'I'd pay for the massage alone.' 'But of course he got his end in,' Jackie said and smiled. She was right. His white teeth gleeful, he tried to bite my chin when he came, until I waved my finger at him. These tough guys who visit the pros for the deal, they're used to the head jobs, the chest rubs, the back massage, but that soft tickle across the face always gets them. It's the way my hands gently part their cheeks, catching them unaware. They really don't think we care about them, but I do. After all, they're human beings. The gum chewing stops, the face is serious, momentarily concerned. It is such a simple pleasure to be paid and to bring beauty into the world. A man's cheeks are soft and ignored. I like to stroke the face, to make little boys of men. This work is sensual, which has been the big surprise for me, and I have discovered that men are sensual beings. In many ways they are as sensual as women. They are as powerful and vulnerable as a landscape. As long as they can afford it, I will make their ecology complete. I would do it all for free, but I've got to live. I spread the sunset of the human soul out across the satin pillow and it is beautiful and brilliant. He was a man but in my gentle hands, he looked like a little boy.
Jackie speaks: Sharlena dropped me off at a motel in Fannie Bay. I bypassed reception and made my way to Room Twenty-Two. When he opened the door I got the shock of my life. He was the ugliest man I had ever seen. A big fat bikie with long red hair and a bright red beard. I almost screamed. He had a gut like a potbelly stove and his huge face was all scarred. His hands were rough and freckled. Aside from the dirty chewed-down fingernails, he was clean, or so I thought. I don't know how just yet, but over the duration of the next fifty minutes, I'm going to have to fuck him. The two hundred dollars that he handed over at least made the situation more agreeable. He was the manager of a small mining operation in Mount Isa in outback Queensland. He had been dirty and sweaty more than once in his life, but at least he didn't stink like some fat men did. Now don't ask me why, but the prick and testicles of a fat man really stank sometimes. All the girls agreed. Sometimes a hot shower with soap simply wasn't enough, so I kept the disinfectant handy. And one bloke was so fucking bad that I went straight to his kitchen after the booking and scrubbed my body with Ajax! Maybe fat men sweated more and this caused them to rot. We don't really know why this is, but they should consider the girls. And they should take extra care down there. When Samantha says, 'Lather up sweetie, lather up!' Well, you think they'd take the hint, or what?! Otherwise I swear I'm going to plug my nostrils up with tissues when I give them head. Would that be too rude? |
