A poetic short story.
The Lord Lucifer was her savior.
She was a Queen of the Night.
The sheets of strangers are her bed for that night.
She walks along the beach
picking up sailors like seashells.
Some are tall and handsome,
some are fat and rich.
But they all pay big money to the illustrious whore.
For just one night of pleasure…you can pay now, as little as $200 — an hour.
She never refuses you,
unless you can’t pay of course.
Then you meet Roy, who will make sure you pay.
But it’s all worth it,
the thrills and the threats.
She’ll swing that tongue into the deepest cracks of your desires.
Her mouth will suck all of those woes out of your soul.
From the comfort of her breast,
to the raging cunt below,
she’ll have you satisfied in like five.
And you will be begging for more.
But your time is up and now you pay and send her on her way.
With a tip of your hat,
you spin around and start walking away gleefully.
All is well in the world and money well spent.
She swings off of your arm and heads to the next bloke.
You don’t care, and she doesn’t blush.
It was a fluid exchange.
And one left to be done, when it is done.
Not to hold on or obsess over.
Neither thinks of the other afterwards, but each walked away satisfied with the experience.