She was well paid, well to do, and self made. But she was proud of none of these. She worked in an industry that grew by the hour. New customers were easily attracted and the old ones were religiously devoted.
She was nineteen , and if continued working the same way, could retire easily by her forties. Of course , being in the profession that she was in, her body would not allow her to work after that. Nor would her clients stick to her .They would prefer someone younger. Only those who preferred experience over rigidity would deal with her.
Even after she retires, there wouldn't be a husband and children to retire to. As a child she often saw her parents stealing their moments here and there. But her father often worked till late and that was what gave birth to her fantasies. A husband who would come home to her whenever she called and take her out, somewhere far from home and all the mundane and monotonous tasks of everyday.
As soon as they would come back, he'd start kissing her right on their porch, open the lock to their house, and make passionate love to her. For a nineteen year old, she had slept with many, way too many men by now. But none of them were making love to her.
SEX.
Sex for which she was hired and paid. Prostitutes do not have husbands, do they?
*****
Amairah on the side
YOU ARE READING
Raw Desire
RomanceDarkness had become a huge part of her life. Of course, there was light. But such a tiny flicker of it that she refused to even acknowledge it. Love was just another word that had a meaning only in a dictionary, for it had lost its meaning in her li...
