This is a repost, wrote this story a long time ago, hopefully I will convince Slipperyreflections to make graphic adaptation for this story as well.
Here is an attempt at another ustory, I gave myself 5 minutes to think of a story and a limit of one sitting to complete writing it.
You could ask me why I haven't married her.
Well... It's because I see no difference. yeah, I don't celebrate birthdays either.
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 awkward, 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, even though it still costs me fifty 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 her 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 her 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 awesome fucking children and on this wretched society in general, well they can suck my dick and call me daddy. 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.
I can't 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.