Incubus

| - 2

My alarm jerks me awake and I immediately sit up. The sun is already going down. I am still dressed and I decide to change my clothes would just be silly. Sleepy I make myself dinner and eat it in front of the TV.

Then my alarm goes off a second time signaling me it is time to go to work. I take the bus and enter the warehouse. The job is easy. Simple logistics. Checking the inventory, refilling the shelves and lists of things that need to be orders anew. For three hours I run through aisles and storage rooms, then I sit another hour in front of a PC.

The good thing about this job is that it requires minimal contact with other humans. The manager checks up on me sometimes and I have to take deliveries, but other than that I am on my own. This is making it easier to work here constantly even while I am on an energy-low or high, like right now.

If my energy is low, I get horny myself and people around me get horny as well. Measurements to ensure I get the needed sex before I die. On the other hand, if my energy is high I emit excessive energy with the same effect. Now that I think about it, maybe that is why the guy jerked off in the locker room.

After my shift on the way back home, I get a text from my pimp. Telling me he has a job for me and if I want to accept. I am not a prostitute per se, but from time to time I sleep with people for money to pay rent and other expenses. Since my skills are quite good and I sleep with both genders, actually with everyone, my clients are always high class. For example, this one wants to take me out for dinner before he fucks me.

It is kind of sad that this opportunity didn't come a couple of days before, I wouldn't have to search for a hook up on my own. Nonetheless, I agree to meet this gentleman. The date is set for tomorrow at 8 pm at the Winsecor.

The Winsecor is a noble hotel right in the middle of the city. It doesn't have five stars but it certainly has the image of one. The gentleman I am meeting here must be rich. Even with my best suit, I feel underdressed and from far away the doorman gives me a derogatory look. But then I come closer and he gets the same look like everybody else. He is polite and holds the door for me and when I thank him he blushed. I think I just turned a straight man into a bi-curious one.

Inside I find the restaurant and a nice lady guides me to the table my client booked for us. I am early by ten minutes. I always try to be at the meeting place before my client to give myself some extra time observing my surroundings in case my client tries something. That never happened before, but I feel safer this way. I am not very muscular and someone with just a little bit of training can easily overwhelm me. I doubt that today is the day this will happen. My client is supposed to be 55 years old. If he tries something I am at least faster than him for sure.

The restaurant is absolutely beautiful. It feels like I am in a movie. Also, the whole staff is amazing looking as well. Have they just hired models to do the job? Then, on the other hand, I always have to remind myself that I find everyone attractive in their own way. I think it is an incubus thing. I don't find everyone sexually attractive, but I never met a single person in my life I would have called ugly. But I notice differences and this is definitely the hotel with the best-looking staff I have ever seen.

I order water and the lovely waitress brings it to my table. Then I suddenly feel a strange sensation in my neck. It feels almost like the tingling you get when someone's looking at you. But this one was more intense, I could almost feel lips on my neck. I turn around, but there is no one. Behind me are some costumers all hotel guests I assume, one more waitress and the two bartenders. By now the feeling is gone and I push it back into a far corner in my mind because someone just stopped beside my table.

I look up and am a little shooked. If this is my client then I want to look like him when I am older. In front of me stands a man looking not older than 40 with a hard distinct face and muscles all over his body that bulge under his fancy clothes. And this is not the only thing that bulges. Either he has a banana in his pants or his cock is at least 9 inches. I stand up and shake his hand. His grip is tide and I can smell a wave of testosterone coming my way. I must say I am pleased.