Sensuality

IV - 1

"So you're saying that you need sex to survive?", Thomas asks.

I nod, observing Thomas carefully. Since I started explaining what an incubus is he has not interrupted me verbally, but he rolled his eyes in disbelieve and shook his head at the absurdity of what I am telling him. I took all of it and just powered through my little speech. Like expected this was different from the times I told Mick and Andrew. They were just listening with an open mind and they didn't judge. But to be fair, Thomas is a little more involved than my two best friends.

Thomas is gulping a few times and it is obvious that he wants to ask something else. So I stop talking and wait till he gathered enough courage to speak up. The minutes tick by. I get nervous that he will never say anything and just points to the door. There is a moment where I consider leaving on my own. Not giving him the chance to throw me out, but then he seems to make up his mind.

He looks up at me and his different colored eyes stare into mine. They aren't angry but a cold shiver runs down my spine. He licks over his lips and then bites the underlip.

'Don't do that. I try to stay focused here.'

"So prostitution is more for you than making money?", he presses out. His stare is still holding me in place.

"It is survival", I say and blink slowly, "with pocket money."

"But why do you have to sell your body for sex in some shady back-alley or trailer car?"

I open my mouth to tell him that I don't do that, but I stop. I have to phrase my next sentence wisely. It's not that I never had sex or something similar in a shady back alley or a trailer car, I just didn't get paid for that. No one wants to take an underage kid back home to fuck.

"I think you have a wrong image of what I did. My clients were always hi..."

"Clients?", he yells at me. "They aren't customers. They used your body."

"Yeah they bought my services and that makes them my clients", I try to reason with him. I regret it a second later when he forms a fist and his nails dig themselves into his palms. Automatically I reach out to stop him from hurting himself, but he jumps away. We don't say anything but it is clear that he won't let me touch him.

I knew that but somehow seeing it displayed in front of me has me on the edge of crying. My eyes closed and my head hanging I take a deep breath. His smell that lingers in the whole apartment relaxes me a bit. When I look up again I just continue as if the last minute never happened.

"My clients were always high class. I got paid to have sex in luxury hotels, apartments, and love motels. No one ever paid me for sex in shady back alleys or some trailer." Something in his face changes and he straightens himself.

"The night we ran into each other, you had ... What do call that?"

"A gig!", I answer short and honest.

"You had a gig", he finishes his sentence.

I just nod. There is no point in denying it. I was there at the hotel for a gig and I am super happy about it because I met him that night. Thomas seems to think differently about our first meeting. His mimic turns into a grimace of disgust.

"You had sex before you were with me. Did you at least shower?", he throws into my face. Well if that is his only concern.

"I didn't have sex with my client that night", I state.

"What? But you said ..."

"It's a complicated story", I interrupt him. I don't even know why. The story isn't complicated at all.