Tonight's client and I share a past, which of us will be left scorned....
Welcome to the confessions of a whore.
I am London Brown, alter ego of Desniah Williams, a twenty-six-year-old, affluent, educated, black woman employed by The Agency.
The Agency provides pricy escorts for London's elite. It's a sophisticated operation in the oldest profession. Clients peruse a catalogue to choose a service provider.
I'm contacted via a white envelope slipped under my door. Since I became a service provider, not once have I seen an envelope delivery. I have a theory about why, but honestly, it sounds absolutely ridiculous, so I refuse to elaborate.
These are the confessions of a whore. My confessions.
Short Story 5,600 words
Peter, the maitre d', smiled. "Ah, Ms. Brown, we're so happy to have you this afternoon. It's been a long while since we've had the pleasure." Of course, he didn't call me by alter ego's name, but for the purpose maintaining separation between London and Desniah I've inserted it.
A few of my clients preferred a more discrete location, but some wanted high-risk spots as the thrill of getting caught heightened their arousal. I can't say I didn't get off on it too.
The older man turned and held the door to the grand room. The palate of white and gold always dazzled me. It was one of my favorite rooms in the city. An empty space set the stage on which this man's flavor of depravity would play out. Not that I minded. I'd been educated about men and their true nature through the acts they asked me to perform.
"I haven't seen Mr. Carrington in a great many years either," Peter said.
I couldn't have heard him correctly. My step faltered for but a second. I swallowed. As my mind tried to make sense of the meaning of this, I took a deep breath. A sick cosmic joke on me. Caden Jacob Carrington, and he didn't mean the forth, but the fifth. Of course, I'd heard he had recently returned from Hong Kong, but why would he need the services of an escort? I should have turned around and left--ran as fast and as far as I could. But I didn't. What better way for him to see why there never could be a future between us?
About Leila DeSint
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Published February 12, 2014
by New Dawning Bookfair.
Erotica, Literature & Fiction.