Pillow Talk

As I sit on the floor in my parlor I regard a sunbeam full of swirling dust particles. As the shadows from the moving cars outside bring the sunbeam closer to me I try to gather the light as quickly as I can. Hopelessly, my hands grasp nothing. He said he’d be by today between 4:30 and 5:00. He’s been a favorite client of mine since I began this life way back in 2015. Upon receiving his texts I have turned my car around for him and ran home if he needed me. It’s just that he’s so very sweet and earnest. We play a game before he arrives with a cute back and forth flirt. He asks me if I had any other clients that day. I tell him either yes or no. If the answer is yes he asks if I still smell like the client and tells me he doesn’t want me to bathe. I answer yes if I do. He tells me he likes it when I’ve had a busy day. I tell him to hurry and he arrives full of the angst of the day and the anticipation of what our sex will be. When he talks to me I can tell he cares about me. I thinks it’s a sin to let him down and not be available when he gets his chance. He’s the kind of guy that makes me feel good about myself and he’s the most reliable client of all of them. I wonder what kind of mojo we share to keep seeing one another after all of this time. He’s the married type with three kids and a stressful job. When he arrives I give him a hug and he kisses my cheek. There’s the usual small talk about work and life and how the pandemic is making everything harder. Once I slip off my robe and he out of his work clothes I hop up onto the bed and he fingers me and slips a greedy tongue into my mouth. He tells me “you don’t know how much you help me.” I smile sweetly and lay back as he climbs on top and begins to fuck me deeply and perhaps a little too forcefully, but I take it in stride because I’ve always enjoyed the big fat head attached to his thick and meaty cock. I want to suck on it more than he allows, but he’s always in a hurry and wants to go straight for my pussy. After a few minutes of grinding himself as far inside as my womb allows, he cums with a groan and says "I love this pussy.” When he leaves he always makes a point to look at me in my eyes and cautions, “be safe.”

Turning away from the door I ponder how much of what men tell me mid coitus is true. Do they mean what they tell me? Are their wives so deficient that they must find another and another to satisfy them? You know what they say about familiarity? It breeds contempt and contempt isn’t a turn on. Me and my client don’t discuss bills or kids and I’m always wet and waiting, but the wife knows him better than I do and I respect her claim to him regardless of how gentle he treats me or how softly he whispers into my ear. Then again, do we ever really have the man we claim is ours? At some point temptation will rear those dollar store red lips and eager beaver. Most men are helpless to resist especially now that sex at home is stale, waning or perhaps dead. A fresh piece of ass wields a lot of power.

I touch up my makeup and put my robe back on. I make a grocery list and warm a cup in the microwave for tea. It’s then I think about another client who is more than forthcoming about his devotion to me. He’s a sweet man who I think has a few anger issues, but has never showed this side to me. I understand that the men I see are on their best behavior when they drop by for some of my care. Sometimes he slips and tells me about times when he was angry and got in trouble at work or elsewhere. He says that I make him better. I don’t know what to say to that actually. One time as he was pumping me with his cock as I lay on the side of the bed he gasped “I love you” twice as he climaxed. When he spoke this the look on his face seemed genuine and it occurred to me that he said it twice for a reason.

After my tea I get dressed and decide to head uptown to the grocery store. I need a few things and I’m in between clients. As I climb into my car I drive by my first Jilly pad in the Lower Garden. This pad was an initiation for me as a novice prostitute with lots of determination and little experience. This was the days of Backpage when everyone was fucking off of Craigslist and The Country Club was still “clothing optional.” I learned how to hone my skills in this three story Italianate. So many men came into town for Conventions and what this city offers that they can’t find in Mayberry, U.S. A., So, my life was like a conveyor belt of swinging dicks morning, noon and night. Driving away I am reminded of another session that was truly priceless.

Once upon a time when I was a newer prostitute in the city I met a client who made me laugh during our session. He sat up against my headboard and let me suck him for what seemed like forever. The entire time he kept cooing “Oh Jilly! You goo!” If I touched his penis with my hand he’d moan “Oh Jilly! You goo!” If I straddled him and lightly circled his bare cock with the whips of my bush he’d say “Oh Jilly! You goo!” When I offered him a glass of water he repeated “Oh Jilly! You goo!” I had a hard time trying not to laugh and inadvertently biting down on his surprisingly huge cock. He couldn’t have weighed more than 120 pounds. It was especially memorable because he had a thick Chinese accent. All he wanted was a blow job and some tenderness. I think he left completely satisfied. He told me as he left “I’m goin to tell everyone how goo you suck me!” I’ve never heard from him again.

In the grocery now I notice a few store employees wearing masks and I remember a client before the pandemic who had something about him that made me feel uneasy. He really didn’t want much and always asked for oral. As I worked on his cock he would tell me about all of the land he owned and about his camp and so on. The last time I saw him though, he said “I want to own you.” He’s called me over and over asking for a session, but I put him off. This is just something I don’t want to hear from a client. Wanting to own someone is never a good thing in my experience. He also paid me way too much and I don’t want to be beholding to anyone who verbalizes that he wants enslave me. I’ll never be quite sure, but I think he meant it.

Then there was a client years ago who knew how to pour on the charm. He was an older attorney from down south that would always bring flowers. He said he loved my body and just liked watching me walk around jiggling. He always makes me giggle when I think of him. I wanted to please him. It turned out that he was telling the truth because I, with the help of another male member/client of the failed review site Eccie, was able to read a for members only “rest of the story” review he’d written about me and he said the same thing. “I just love her body and could spend all day watching her jiggle around.”

Once, when I was still learning how to whore I had a client who would make most women recoil. He was unattractive physically and that can usually be overlooked with character and a good attitude, but he was basically a repugnant human being and that makes any session harder. Struggling in the jungle that was his pubes I finally located “Mr. Friendly.” He told me that there are no good whores in New Orleans and that they’re all ugly. Then he went on to tell me that the best looking whores were in Phoenix and that everything in town was just trash. The funny thing is he really meant what he said and didn’t consider who he was saying this to. He saw me as something less than him and he was just stating a fact. He didn’t cum and I wasn’t surprised. He’s a miserable and inconsiderate troll who is so insecure he wouldn’t be happy if Beyonce gave him a trip around the world.

Back at home now I put away my groceries, brush my hair and change into a robe because my next client is due any moment. The new cat who recently adopted me rubs her face into my calves and I bend down to pet her and tell her I appreciate her for taking a chance on me. My cat Lula died in April and this one just showed up in the yard, sometime before Thanksgiving, mewing and seemed in distress. I’m not sure what her story is, but she’s happy being kept by me and our codependent relationship is growing and seems healthy. We’re both content with each other. As I pet her she reminds me of fun clients who really want to fuck and with whom I share a mutual respect.

These client’s who have game acknowledge that we have sexual chemistry and that our sex is good. One in particular whom I think is probably the sexiest client I’ve ever had usually tells me “I would marry you.” He’s much younger than me and works very hard and has built his own business. He has a young family and takes good care of them. So, I sincerely doubt he means this and it’s just what one says when overcome with mind blowing orgasm. Periodically in the blur of lust, a client will tell me that I’m the best he’s ever had or that he was never able to cum with a blow job until me. I just smile and secretly think “really?” Or, perhaps, I live such a sexually filled life that I cannot remember what it’s like to go a long time without sex. Also, I’ve never had a blow job. Men often allow themselves to become vulnerable with me almost upon eye contact. I make them feel safe and that’s why they keep coming back. I don’t have to know if what they tell me is true. I just have to love them for who they are for the hour they paid for. As I answer a few emails and texts the doorbell rings. I rush to the door greet my next client. I wonder what secrets he’ll tell me today.