Married people are more likely to masturbate than single people living alone.
Evelyn's p.o.v
I woke up with a start, my breath quick and panicked as flashbacks of the reoccurring nightmare flooded my mind. A beautiful face with piercing blue eyes and thick, dark hair had been haunting my dreams and giving me no rest. As the mental image of a gun pressed tight to my temple faded away, I slowly took in the foreign surroundings and tried to catch my breath.
Light spilled into the bedroom from the floor to ceiling windows that faced out across Amsterdam. A cool summer breeze moved through scattered strands of my dark hair, fanning them even further out across the pillow. However, as I stirred to consciousness, I slowly began to question whether the 'summer breeze' was really just strong air-con. The swanky apartment I had woken up in was extraordinary, the kind I truly didn't realise people could actually afford in the real world.
Creamy sheets tangled around my legs like tight vines trying to pull me back into the lull of sleep, but I knew that I needed to disappear before my companion inevitably woke up. I reluctantly slipped out of the ridiculously large bed, for a man who slept alone for the majority of nights, or at least I hoped he did. The thought of contributing to an affair was sickening and something I refused to delve into.
Sneaking a quick look back at the body of the man beside me, I couldn't miss how he looked as though he was cloned in a petri-dish at the gym. I reluctantly rose from the plush mattress, my back to the stranger I'd met not a matter of hours ago and silently edged toward the end of the bed, trying desperately not to wake him.
The cash he owed me for last night was stacked up on the bed side table and I tiptoed across the plush carpet at his side of the bed, fingering through the wad of hundred dollar bills quickly to ensure it was the correct amount agreed on. Precisely $10,000 and precisely the amount I owed for Hope's latest medical invoice.
The short walk to his suite last night had been silent, but I'd nearly drowned from the screaming voice inside my head. Even after a month of working as a call girl, it didn't get any easier. My subconscious had been pleading with me to not to go ahead with this degrading plan, demanding that it was wrong on every level. I'd promised this man the 'girlfriend experience' which was something I was new to but the pay was better than the average outcall job.
And I needed the money.
I'd trailed behind him through the apartment, watching his muscular back beneath a tight dress shirt and smart pants. He looked like he worked in business or finance, one of those of mind numbingly boring yet ridiculously well paid jobs that enabled him to afford an apartment such as we one we were stood in.
His profession, however, would remain one of the many unsolved mysteries about him. I was to receive his money and his dick, nothing more, nothing less. Whether he was some kind of world class surgeon, prestigious lawyer or bloody circus trapeze made no difference to me, as it had always been my intention to be long gone by the time he woken up the following morning.
He'd managed to remove his shirt and kick off his shoes in record speed, not waiting around for pleasantries or even so much as my name. Not that I would have given it, not my real one anyway. He probably knew the fake one I displayed on the website and knew I wouldn't give him my real birth name even if he asked for it.
Rose Lynn was the play on my real name, Evelyn Rose Scott, that I'd chosen.
The suite he'd taken us to was furnished with lavish fittings that looked deep cleaned and disinfected to a fault—too much so for a normal apartment and I couldn't help but compare it against the one which I shared with Adam. Virus freak, huh? It didn't miss me that you could've easily fit my entire apartment into just his foyer.
As soon as we'd entered his bedroom, the silent, reserved businessman had suddenly snapped into someone wholly different. He slammed me against the wall, lips fusing to mine in a violent kiss that caused me to gasp. I didn't normally allow my clients to kiss me on the mouth but he'd payed extra for the privilege. He had taken advantage of my reaction, invading my open mouth with his tongue. I had quickly come to the realisation that it was going to be rough when hands slipped down my thighs, fingers gripping my ass before he hoisted me up into his arms.
My legs had wrapped around his waist in a natural reflex to prevent me from falling flat on my ass. He thrusted deep against me, paying no heed to the layers of clothes that separated us and causing my hands to grip his hair. I pulled hard enough to cause his mouth to break its contact with mine, forcing him to explore my neck with the same vigour he had shown my mouth.
He then simultaneously slipped his hand between us, nudging my panties aside in a quick movement before dipping two fingers into me. I wasn't wet enough for his sudden intrusion to be painless yet if he didn't realise this, he at least pretended not to notice. I gritted through the tight discomfort and even managed to whisper various loving pet names against the shell of his ear as he continued to fuck me with his fingers, slipping two more inside when I muttered my love for him. Girlfriend my ass.
Wanting him to stop, I'd begun to quicken my breathing, letting out light whimpers and moans before pretending to come on his fingers. My acting must've been believable enough as he was quick to seal the deal after I'd apparently had my moment, the rest of the night being solely focused on his satisfaction without a second thought for my own.
He'd been quick to rip open a condom wrapper with his teeth and then slam into me against the mirror like I'd seen in dirty porn films, small grunts leaving his mouth in-sync with his thrusts. No one fucked like this in real life. The noises leaving us both, the speed, the lack of care regarding whether or not I also got off, it was all very pornographic and wholly degrading.
Once he'd managed to have multiple fills against the mirror, the floor and then the bed, I finally rolled over in search of sleep, knowing that I'd be needing a long appointment with my trusted vibrator when I got home. My body was left feeling irritated about the complete lack of orgasms that the night had resulted in. But the fat stack of much needed cash was worth every ignominious second. He'd payed for the girlfriend experience and so I had given him the curtesy of spending the night and even allowing him to kiss my mouth which was usually a no-go. Mornings, however, were nonnegotiable.
I was suffering from his roughness now though, struggling to cross the room as I adjusted to the dull discomfort in my lower muscles. There was the odd tear that escaped but I sniffled and angrily wiped them away from my cheeks, not wanting to think about what I'd become. I didn't want to be this girl but I couldn't think of any other way out. I was trapped in a vicious cycle with no possible method of escaping.
My cheap, high street dress and heels were forgotten in a haphazard mess across the bedroom floor, Jackson Pollock style. I gathered my clothes and reluctantly pulled on my tiny dress from the night before, the low neck line and short length a precursor of what had occurred just hours before. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the entry mirror and suppressed a shiver of disgust at the girl I had become; the social construct I had fallen into for a girl growing up without parents. I had my reasons... but at the end of the day didn't everyone?
Sex was sex at the end of the day and here in Amsterdam, sex sells. There was a limitless amount of rich businessmen in this city with far too much money and no time for a girlfriend or wife. Chocolates, date nights and flowers didn't fit into their busy schedules, but a quick one night stand was perfectly admissible. No matter the high price tag.
I didn't want to sleep around with these upperclass men who treated me like dirt on the bottom of their expensive toecap oxfords, but Hope's medical bills and my share of rent weren't going to pay themselves. Every time I dared a glance into my pit of ever growing debt it had only gotten deeper. Every damn time. It was like trying to build sandcastles on a beach where the tide of debt was constantly coming in, knocking down any small progress I made in trying to increase my income.
I was home before the sun had even risen, the first rays of sunlight peeking through the night sky and chasing away the last few remaining stars. I could feel the night chill beginning to disappear as morning approached, almost as though even the night couldn't handle my dirty secrets, wanting nothing to do with me.
On my way back to the apartment, I stopped at an early opening patisserie that was just lifting up its shutters and putting yummy morning goodies out on the display cases. I grabbed a particularly delicious looking apple pastry along with a triple-shot coffee, thanking the delightful old woman on my way out and leaving a generous $200 tip. The look on her face was priceless, and my ability to leave it for her without breaking the bank, chipped off a little of my building guilt.
Before I left the shop, I noticed a sign on the door altering people of a temporary closure following the spread of the Insid-A virus. I hadn't realised the situation had gotten that serious and was surprised by such extreme measures being taken, especially with the herd immunity strategy that the world had communally agreed to. Surely this had to be some kind of mistake?
"You have to close?" I asked the old woman before leaving, noticing that the sign had only been put up mere minutes ago. I could only hope that she hadn't been tricked by some nasty online troll, someone trying to reduce her sales in such a highly competitive business.
"My husband died last night so today is our last day of opening for my own safety, My Dear." She explained with a sad smile, clearly upset by the whole situation. I'd heard about the virus only targeting those over 60, but hearing a personal story of a husband falling victim to it was awful.
"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that." I was shocked that the virus had already reached us, a death so close to home was sure to disturb the normal flow of life. How many more would lose their loved ones as consequence? At least I now had the ability to pay rent if my café had to close too, but how many wouldn't?
"Take care and stay safe." I repeated her words back to her, although the odds were stacked against her considering her age. The virus seemed to feel little to no animosity toward the younger generation, focused wholly on taking out the elders instead. The older lady thanked me again for my generous tip before disappearing into the backroom, leaving me stunned at her news.
The apartment was silent as I unlocked the front door and crept in. Adam's bedroom door was thrown open and empty, altering me of his absence. I guess he decided to stay at someone else's apartment rather than bring them back here for once. I let myself wonder if it was for my benefit after how I'd reacted to Rosie just the other day?
Then I let myself wonder why I should even care.
I knew Alicia would be at my door within the hour and decided to take my rather unhealthy breakfast out to the balcony, wanting some fresh air to clear my head.
Hell knows, I needed it.