[box type=”info” align=”aligncenter” ]This is one of the stories that came out of the Writivism 2014, a project of the Centre for African Cultural Excellence, with the assistance of several partner organisations, which identifies, trains and engages readers and writers in public discourse through literature. As part of this years activities, they will have The Writivism Festival from 18 – 22nd June 2014. Like the Facebook page for more updates
Her finger traced the wine glass as her eyes scanned the room. She knew how to spot them, how to identify a catch and draw them in, a talent honed from years of experience from dealing with ‘the industry’. She was a creature of habit and this bar had become her usual hunting ground. She had often had to change places she frequented but when she found a place she was comfortable and free to conduct her activities unhindered she would settle in and stay there.
This bar had yet to fail her.
She had never come here and left without someone to warm her bed for the night and empty her wallet. She loved power, loved money, loved sex. The fusion of the three was a blessing and curse to her, a tripartite relationship she welcomed whole heartedly. The three came together beautifully; the more of the first two at her disposal the more she enjoyed increasing amounts of the third. This was an intimate relationship that many did not understand and she did not care to explain.
She waited patiently, nursing her drink. They always came to her. It was a strange phenomenon, presumably also part of the job, this ability to spot and hone in on a woman willing to pay for their services. She would often be approached by an array of different men before she made her choice. She always discarded those who were not offering services and merely ‘a good night’. She was not interested in ‘a good night’, this was a business transaction. When it came to picking partners this was one aspect which she often strayed from her love of the familiar, but instead enjoyed diversity, always seeking something different.
She always needed something new in that area of her life which is why, although she had long been in a committed relationship, she went on these trysts. Trysts she could not afford to waste on someone who was not a professional.
People who knew often mistook if for the need to feed some trauma wrapped in the darkness of some childhood event.
It was not.
Neither was it based in a need to prove something or mask some hidden pain. It was a want and love for the act itself. Some people liked chocolate. Others like wine. She liked sex.
Tonight she had that familiar feeling of insatiability.
These sessions never lasted more than an hour or so. There was a great deal one could do in that time if you knew exactly what you wanted. She was always crystal clear on her wants and needs at that moment. She had very specific tastes.
And she never took off her heels.
Leaving them on kept her grounded when she engaged in her flights of fancy. Never allowing her to forget the ‘business side’ of things.
The heels were a pre-requisite. She needed them to not only to keep herself grounded, but to show her domination. She wanted them to feel her power, flowing from every inch of her body. From the way she rolled her hips to the way her orgasm came over her in ways. This was part of the allure of those nights. She paid for them, she rode them hard. She loved allowing them to be on top but with a skill that came naturally she would (sometimes literally) flip it so that she ended up giving them pleasure unparalleled. She had spent a good deal of time working on external and internal muscles, the way an academic worked on their though processes or an artist worked on their craft she honed her skills.
She would envelop them, swallow them whole, ensuring there was not physical or mental escape.
Kegel exercises were not to be played with.
She would ride them to ecstasy, enjoying the look of surprise on their faces, the lack of understanding that a ‘jane’ had somehow managed to make them act so… unprofessional.
She induced climax after climax.
Ecstasy: then moment when one is outside of themselves. She brought them to an understanding of the original Greek.
This was about pleasure unparalleled. But not hers.
This was a moment where she had complete control of them, the look of pure unadulterated release in which they forgot themselves, forgot who they were or even what they were.
At the end she always tipped them heavily, irrespective of performance. She loved that she could mix business and pleasure. On top of that it was always best to keep an eye on what the competition was doing. The market for services was large, but the competition was tough, she had dealt with enough of it to know.
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