It was hard not to cry when she was called a "slut," a "whore," or a "bitch" while she was riding some guy into an orgasm, because men seemed to be into that kind of thing. That was something that she had quickly learned. Men loved spitting out degrading names and slapping her ass and tweaking her nipples as she pleasured them. That was her job though. She gave them pleasure, they used her for pleasure, it was never about her. And yeah it was demeaning, and it sometimes made her tear up and her little feelings got hurt, but it was what kept food on the table. It was what paid for her college classes, so she could finally stop doing this and find herself a real job. It was what kept her off of the streets. So, when the man of the night slapped her ass and called her a whore as he came, his body roughly jerking up into hers, she bit down on her lip and just let him enjoy himself, because that was her job.
"I love when Sharon gets new girls," he said, slapping her ass one more time as she smirked at him and climbed off of him to go clean herself up while he disposed of the condom.
They always came but she never did, something she had also grown used to and another reason why she used her Amazon prime account to order toys that would help her get off. Because men were useless.
"How much do I owe ya, sweetie?" He asked once she came out of the bathroom, her jeans buttoned up over the lacy bodysuit that she had worn, throwing her blazer over it as she grabbed her phone to check the time.
"2k," she stated.
Tonight, had been an easy job. Tom – that was his name – was some rich stockbroker who worked on Wall Street and had been using Sharon's services since his wife had their last child and hadn't lost the baby weight. Demi felt bad for the woman, but she had to make a living too and it wasn't her fault that she was married to a scumbag.
"When can I see you again?" he asked as he passed her the money in a manila envelope.
"Ask Sharon," Demi said, shooting him a fake smile before she slipped her Louboutins on and left the hotel room.
Max was waiting for her downstairs in her standard black town car, giving her a nod as he closed the door behind her and she settled into the plush leather seats. Demi was sending a text on her real phone when her Razor beeped in her purse. Max was in the car with her and Sharon usually didn't call after jobs, but Demi pulled it out anyway, and it was a text from Trey.
Can I see you again?
She hadn't heard from him in a month, but that didn't mean she had forgotten about him. No, every time she was on a job she thought about him, hoping that he would pop up and she would get to spend the night with him instead of the next man who wanted to use her for their own pleasure then dispose of her. She thought about him all of the time, but she never reached out to him because she knew that they could never be. And that wasn't her being cynical or dramatic, she was just being realistic. Having significant others with the job that she had would never work. But she really wanted to see him, one more time, just to get it out of her system.
Yes.
Max took her to the office so that she could give Sharon her money, then he drove her to the studio apartment that overlooked Central Park. Sharon paid for the girls to all live in the same building. It was more about control than anything else. She wanted to monitor what they were doing, who was coming to see them, how they spent their spare time, etc, etc, etc. Demi didn't mind. It's not like she had a lot of friends and the apartment was nicer than anywhere she had ever stayed in her entire life.
They made plans. Trey told her to dress comfortably and meet him on the west side of Central Park at four pm. She wanted to look nice for him, not the way she looked when she was going to do her job, but nice enough that he would call her beautiful instead of sexy, that he would hold her hand instead of caressing her butt, that he would look into her eyes instead of staring at her chest.
After taking a much-needed shower, Demi decided on a two piece outfit, black leggings with a cropped tank top, then threw her favorite jean jacket on over it. She didn't wear a lot of makeup because she didn't like to, and after curling her hair then combing through it to achieve the messy wave look, she grabbed her phone and her purse and headed downstairs. Saying goodbye to the doorman, Demi jogged across the street to Central Park and began her walk to the west side.
It didn't take long for her to find Trey. He was sitting on one of the benches along the main trail, not even on his phone, he was just taking the scenery in, and she found it annoying that her heart skipped a few beats and her palms got all sweaty as she approached him.
"Hey," Demi greeted, causing him to immediately stand up and face her.
"Hey Devy," he greeted, reminding Demi once again of why this couldn't go any further.
"So, what are we doing?" Demi asked as they started walking side by side, close enough so that people knew they were together but far away enough that they weren't really touching.
"I thought we'd just walk around the park. Maybe grab a bite to eat? I'm not one for super fancy dates," Trey said, causing Demi to smile as she took in his white Nike hoodie, dark washed jeans, and white Air Force One's.
"Me neither," she breathed out as she stuffed her hands into her pockets.
"So, call me forward, but how did you become...you know..."
"A prostitute? It's okay, you can say the word," Demi finished for him as he nodded. "It's really not anything complicated. I moved out, figured out I didn't have enough money to keep a roof over my head, and one of my friends used to do it so she got me into it as well. I just got hired by Sharon, so things are better now."
"They are?"
"Yeah, she takes really good care of us. I would too, if I was running an illegal multimillion dollar business."
"What else do you do? I mean, that can't take up all of your time, can it?"
"No, I actually go to school. I had to take a few semesters off, but I go to culinary school. I want to be a chef. Besides having sex in exchange for currency, I'm really good at cooking," Demi joked, and Trey actually laughed, which caused her to laugh as well.
"That means you'll cook a meal for me one day, right?"
"We'll see...what about you? What do you do?"
"I own a few clubs and my own liquor line but that's about it."
"Ah, businessman, I know your kind," Demi chuckled as Trey shook his head. "How'd you get into that?"
"My brother. He has the vision, but I have the degrees, so we're partners, in a sense. You should come by sometime. The name of the club is Vixen. I could get you your own table and stuff," Trey offered as Demi shrugged a little bit.
"Maybe, if I ever get the night off." But she knew that it wouldn't happen, because she had promised herself that this would be her last time seeing him.
"You hungry? This man sells the best hot dogs in all of New York," Trey said as they approached one of the many hot dog stands in the park. "Hey Sal!"
"Hey, Trey. Just your usual?"
"Usual times two," Trey said as Demi watched the man fix them two hot dogs with ketchup and mustard.
"You guys enjoy your date," Sal said, passing the hot dogs to Trey after Trey passed him a crinkled five-dollar bill. Demi waved to Sal as they started walking again, and Trey passed her a hot dog.
"The best hot dogs in New York? That's a heavy claim," she said before taking a bite.
"What do you think?" Trey asked. He was already done with half of his hot dog.
"If you like it, I love it," she said before taking another bite. They both finished off their hot dogs then threw their wrappers into the trash as they continued walking. They must've been walking for longer than Demi realized because the sun was starting to set.
"Can I tell you something?"
"Yeah, anything."
"I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since that night. I hope you don't think less of me because I paid you then I left. You just seemed really upset at the bar and then I saw the stuff in your purse and figured it's because you got stood up and I didn't want anything to-" Demi had to cut his nervous ramblings off.
"I don't think any less of you. I haven't been able to stop thinking of you either. Not just because you literally saved my ass that night but because of the way you made me feel. It was a different experience...having someone focus on my pleasure just as much as theirs. I have tried and failed to get you off of my mind because you can't really have a boyfriend with the job that I have," Demi slowly explained as they stopped walking and faced each other.
"Why not?"
"Trey, I have sex for a living. Almost every night it's a different man. And yeah I'm clean and I'm protected and everything but you really think you'd be able to be with me knowing what I do? Knowing that right after I'm done with you, I'm leaving to go sleep with some guy who is either cheating on his wife or doesn't have the patience to date because he just wants sex?"
"I don't know..." Trey trailed off as Demi nodded.
"Then this shouldn't go any further. We can be friends," Demi stated, about to walk away from him but Trey tugged her back, molding their bodies together as he wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her so close that their foreheads were touching, and if they positioned their heads the right way their lips would be touching.
"Friends? You think I can be friends after what we did?" Trey asked, his hand moving underneath her jacket to rub the bare skin on the small of her back.
"You think I can be friends after I've touched you?" His hand moved from her back to her waist, then the waistband of her leggings.
"After I've tasted you?" His hand continued to move underneath the waistband of her leggings as his lips made a trail along her throat, making her breath catch as he fingered the hem of her underwear, her ruined underwear.
"After I've been inside of you?" She forgot that they were in public, in a very public place as her underwear were moved to the side and he slipped a single finger inside of her, making her jaw drop before he connected their lips in a searing kiss and she gasped into his mouth as he began to slowly move his finger.
"You think we can just be friends?" he whispered against her lips, their eyes solely focused on each other as he stilled the movement of his finger and Demi felt her heart racing, knowing she had a very crucial decision to make.
Fuck it.
Idk if I'm gonna keep adding parts to this or not this kind of just came to me so...yeah.