Here is an attempt at a short story, I gave myself 5 minutes to think of a story and a limit of one sitting to complete writing it.
Also, I have tried to keep a limit to the number of words for we all know what has happened to our attention spans in this era of instant gratification.
If this were a movie, it would get a NC 17 rating.
You could ask me why I haven't married her.
Because I see no difference.
I still remember the way her body felt, while she rested beside me that day, and the look in her eyes when I brushed away a strand of her hair which covered them. It was weird, and we knew it.
It was my first time, and the last time that I didn't have to pay for it, but strangely it feels better now, now that it costs me a hundred bucks an hour. The first time is always awkward, so much is expected of you, and you hope you can match up to these standards but with a hooker things are different, there isn't a need for faking things, and there is none of that emotional bullshit that women use to fuck up the fun in good old 'sex', although I like to call it 'a good fuck'.
Now I have Rita with me. She's been turning tricks since she was 17, or so she says, she was already in her mid 20s when I met her and had been around town if you catch my drift. She must be nearing 40 now, and I still love her like I did the day I first answered her timid knock on my apartment door. I could hardly have believed my eyes, she was not half as ugly as I had imagined her to be, and the glasses that she wore ?, they were a freaking travesty, they made her look like a librarian.
The first time with Rita was very different, she was a Jane Doe for me then, I had no obligations, and neither did she. But that wasn't to stop her, she had an enthusiasm for life I had never seen before, she wasn't sad and resigned to her fate as one would imagine a hooker would be. She made me realize that my first time, my first time ever, was a total disaster.
I became a regular, and later her only client. She is with me now, she is mine, although I still pay her for services rendered. And for my years of patronage, she repays me by hopping over whenever I call and she cooks my food for me, she washes my clothes, she loves me, but she will never say it to me, not in a million years, it is not like her, but I know and I know it for sure.
It has been years since I have seen anyone from my family, or had any friends. I don't get invited to parties or functions nor does anyone visit me. They think that I am a bad influence on them and their fucking children and on this wretched society in general, well they can suck my d*ck. My neighbors make fun of us when we walk together, but she is unperturbed and I couldn't care less, she is my only contact with familiarity, and my job doesn't help me in being social with other people either, but it pays very well and so I don't complain.
I do employ the services of other 'paid companions' because I get bored sometimes, but she ? She is special, I go back to her. Every time.
So I guess I can see why people get married and subject themselves to that restriction in their choice, but I love my life and our little arrangement, and wouldn't have it any other way.
Sorry if it sucked, I got bored towards the end and just submitted it without proofreading or improving it