LOVE AT FIRST . . .
Hi , my name is Sherryn McCord, 25 years old. I’ve been living alone since I was 18. My parents died when I was only 17 because of car accident. We used to be rich but because I didn’t know how to handle our family’s financial wealth, and my father wasn’t able to make his last will and testament, obviously for inheritance, our relatives deceived me. They said that they will manage our assets until I turn 18 and they will transfer all the money under my name, but they didn’t. On my 18th birthday, our family lawyer went to our house. That was the biggest surprise I’ve ever received aside from the death of my parents.
The lawyer told me that our relatives, on my father’s side, took all the money and transferred under their name. I wanted to contest! But he just said there was nothing he could do. I asked him why he didn’t come to me by the time my parents died. He said he was so busy, and he didn’t think I would understand anything about the law! Right then, I couldn’t help myself but cry.
When I graduated from high school, my relatives kicked me out of my own house. I was so angry then. They said I should’ve been thankful they let me in and financed my education. “You could manage yourself and live on your own!” Right at that moment, I swore to God, I’d to anything to get what’s rightfully mine.
That day also, I found a bakery. It wasn’t in a good condition, but who am I to complain? All I wanted was to have a job and a place to live in. The owner, Mr. David, welcomed me and was very happy to have me in his shop. I met Alina there, who turned out to be my best friend, until now. She was very jolly, and has a good sense of humour. She told me a lot of things about her and so did I. When she knew what just happened to me, she invited me to live with her in a studio-type apartment. Of course, I said yes! She was so kind. She’s 2 years older than me and was only 10 when her mom died because of breast cancer, 15 when his father married another woman. “At first, everything was okay,” she said. “But after they get married, the woman showed her true colors.” She was 17 when she left home and started living alone.
How unfortunate we were! I know, right? But now, everything’s falling into place. By the way, we are prostitutes, and we’re not ashamed to say that. People may judge us as long as they want. But who cares? Sometimes, I wanted to say, ‘can you feed us? Can you give us money?’ But I’d rather stay quiet and do what’s best for us. Alina is all I have. Are you curious how we end up being like this? Okay, lemme tell you.
I was already 21 and Alina’s 23, when a man came to us as we were walking back home. He gave us calling card and said he’s a manager of a club. We didn’t want to work as prosti, but two weeks later, Mr. David- owner of the bakery, said he had to sell the shop to a rich businessman. That was when we decided to work to the club. I think it’s so natural for me to say we were shy, at first. Oh yeah! Nothing’s so new about that. Why wouldn’t we? Showing our sexy body to those sinners who are cheating their wives and girlfriends! But mind you people, our club isn’t just any other club. It’s exclusive for the rich, only! But the tips and personal salary depends on our job performance. Alina and I are very picky who to sleep with. Usually, we just sit there letting those guys to touch us just so we won’t have to have sex with them. We’re very wise when it comes to things like these. We use our brain, not our heart.
Right now, we’re heading to the club. We already moved out from our old apartment and found a 2-bedroom apartment that will suit our lifestyle. As we reach the club, our staff, Romeo, automatically get the keys from me. As we come in, the scent of different kinds of expensive perfume brush our nostrils. As usual the atmosphere is so wild. Music’s loud and very sensual, everyone has their own partners. It’s a four story club, the ground floor serving as the main, 2nd to 4th floor are meant for those who want to have some privacy.
Alina whispers in my ear, “What the f*ck, old guys are everywhere!” I laugh.
“Honey! You are so bad! They make us rich! C’mon, let’s move.”
Hours passed and I’m getting bored so I’ve decided to come see Alina, who’s with a guy, maybe 40. “Hi handsome, can I borrow my friend for a while?” I said that with the sweetest tone I could possibly do.
“What?” said Alina, looks like she’s enjoying herself, and I don’t!
“I’m bored, can we go now?” pouting my lips, which makes me cuter, she frown.
“Hey, are you insane? I just started with him. Seems like he has a thick wallet over there.” Alina looks at the direction of the guy and waves her hand.
“Oh yeah! I can see that. But what am I... sup... posed... to... do...?” my jaw drops as I see the guy entering the room. He’s the most handsome guy I’ve ever seen.
“Oh...ohhhh... alright, yeah! I think we really have to go.” Alina sees him, too. And she knows, so badly, the kinda guy I want.
“What the hell are you talkin' about?” I say without looking at her. My eyes are glued at my dream man. “Didn’t you just say you have client over there?”
“Honey? Didn’t you just say you’re bored already?” Alina starts giggling. I know she is just teasing me.
“Did I? I don’t remember I just said that. C’mon! I still have one more client.” I shooed her, and starts walking towards whoever he is. All I know is that I’m so much attracted to him.
“Good luck! Give your best shot!” Alina yells and walks to his client.
“Hi. Can I do anything for you?” OMG! He’s even more attractive at close-up! But he’s a snob huh? He doesn’t seem to care I’m here! I clear my throat two times, so he’ll notice me. There you go!
“Ohh hi! I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.” He’s so serious, and talks to me without even smiling.
“Looking for someone?” I begin flirting with him. I am not usually this kind of prostitute who seduces a guy to be noticed. Only because I know they could easily be attracted to me without even if I won’t exert much effort. But this guy is totally different, he acts as though he’s not affected by my charm.
“Yes... I mean no.” Hmmm, if what he’s looking for is a prostitute. I’d prove to him, the best is already right in front of him, so he won’t ask for more.
“Okay, let’s do something about that. Do you want anything? Beer? What?”
“Actually, I’m just-”
“Oh c’mon, do you want to dance?”
“I think I’ll just leave.” Before he could take his second step, I grab his arms and kiss him straight on his lips. He groans. You like that huh? Our kiss lasts for 5 minutes, most probably.
“Let’s go somewhere else.”
:: I did not bother to put pictures on the characters that aren't so important. Hope you guys don't mind.
Por pabor, do leave a comment before you move to the next chapter :)
© Copyright 2016 jhanery. All rights reserved.
Short Story / Romance
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