I knock on the door of my first client, a paunchy man named Carl who is supposedly a successful orthodontist in Ohio. As soon as I step inside, I realize that he booked himself a penthouse suite. The room offers sweeping views of Las Vegas Blvd., and in the center of the room sits a pool table.

Carl seems to be trying too hard to set the mood for me, and has lit what seemed like a dozen candles all over the room. Internally, I chuckle and think, You have to be fucking kidding me.

But I keep my demeanor professional and immediately ask him to put the money on the table. He walks over to the pool table and spreads out each of the hundreds in an overly emphatic gesture.

I walk closer to him. ”Let's get to work, shall we?" I say with a playful smile.

He slowly unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants. Carl doesn’t touch me, and I know I better step up my game to be sure he’s getting his money's worth.

I honestly expect to panic a little but I don’t. I reach for my clothes, pulling them off just as slowly. I push the straps of my dress down, letting my tits spill out, and then I pull myself up onto the pool table, spreading my legs.

“Do you like watching me play with my tits?” I ask Carl while I grip them, bringing my tongue to swirl along each nipple.

Carl’s cock is in his hand and he’s already jerking quickly.

“My pussy is so wet, Carl,” I tell him, saying his name in the most erotic way I can manage. I wonder if this isn’t totally emasculating for him, but at the same time, I feel powerful knowing how much he’s paying me to touch myself and make sure he gets to come on me from whatever I do during our time.

I drop one of my hands down, trailing down and lifting up my dress. I yank down my panties and throw them at Carl — he can touch the panties and feel how wet I got thinking about doing something so wildly immoral as this for money — and then I spread my legs, wide. My time at the Spearmint Rhino as a stripper means that I’m capable of doing quite the spread.

I watch Carl’s eyes as he looks at my bare pussy.

“Stroke your cock and think about how my pussy aches, Carl,” I instruct. I peel my dress off and rub my inner thighs, tease all around my pussy.

Then I turn around and give him full view of my ass and pussy, my tits in view too with the way I’m arching right now. I squeeze my own ass and trail my fingers down to my wet slit, sliding my fingers through to lube them up.

I slide a finger inside my pussy and I start to moan. I’m really banging it out for the cheap seats, but I also am getting a huge rush from the fact that I can hear him grunting already.

“Fuck, yes, fuck that perfect pussy,” he begs me, his voice going hoarse.

I slide my now soaked finger out of my pussy and slide it in my ass, then bring the fingers of my other hand to my pussy. I moan ridiculously. “Do you like seeing me stuffed, Carl? Do you want to come all over me while I’m being such a bad girl?”

I am about to continue, but then I hear Carl gasping like he’s going to suffocate, and a hot stream of cum lands on my ass, dripping down my fingers and my cheeks.

Carl has good aim, I’ll give him that.

“Mmm, thank you, Carl,” I say, pulling my fingers out of my holes and scooping it up and licking them. Thomas says his clients are clean, and I hope so because I taste the saltiness of cum on my fingers — cum that isn’t mine.

“Fuck, that was perfect,” Carl says.

I turned around and when I’m about to get off the table, Carl hands me several tissues and my clothes. Well, that was thoughtful.

“Have a good night,” I tell him, nodding and taking the tissues and clothes. I don’t know what else to say to him, and I kind of want to get out of here as soon as possible. Sure, Carl did nothing so terrible, and this wasn’t so hard, and the pay is amazing…but once again, my body burns, unsatisfied and all I can think about is David. I am going to text him, of all the things that I don’t do, as soon as I get back to my hotel room.

“You too!” Carl says.

I can’t believe how much money this guy paid for this, but he seems to be thrilled, so I’m definitely not sticking around to get him to fill out a comment card.

I wipe myself off, leaving the tissues on the pool table so that I don’t have to needlessly investigate Carl’s room for a trash can, then I pull back on my panties and my dress, then I head out the door, glad the job is over and seemingly successful and I go.

I pick up my phone to text David. I know I never text…and I know that I have a slew of texts from him, but I don’t let anything in my mind dissuade me from texting him.

Thinking about you.

Okay, so not the filthiest text ever. But I had to start somewhere. The message quickly change from ‘Delivered’ to ‘Read’ and I expect to see the three dots on the phone that mean that’s he’s writing a response. Instead, my phone starts ringing. I deeply regret texting him before I got back to my room.

“You do know how to text,” David says. There’s something sensual in his voice that stops my heart for a moment.

“I do,” I say stupidly.

“I think I’d rather hear you,” David says.

My insides melt at those words. I don’t know why I'm so hung up on him, or how he brightens my whole day if I so much as think about him, but I just know that I never want this feeling to go away.