The Virgin Prostitute [#ShortStory]

I’m focused 100% on the job. I don’t put another prostitute down to get my job done. In short, I don’t do all that you do. I only sell my body. You, well you sell your soul.


I’m focused 100% on the job. I don’t put another prostitute down to get my job done. In short, I don’t do all that you do. I only sell my body. You, well you sell your soul.

Thousand an hour. She said.

What all services will you offer, because that is quite expensive? He asked.

All the ones your wife didn’t offer you. She replied.

He was quiet and visibly angry but bowed his head down and agreed to pay.

This way. She said as she walked past buildings on her left.

She was well built. Tall. Curvy. Long curly brown hair. Nude lip gloss. Purple eye shadow. Wearing a long black dress with high neckline.

You look toned down for a prostitute. He said.

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She kept walking without giving a ear. She walked inside a well lit building in one of the side roads.

He walked fast to avoid being seen.

No. The last time I took this room, I didn’t enjoy it much. She said returning the key to the receptionist.

What kind of a view do you want? Sea facing? Corner room? Trees around?. She asked.

I don’t know. I mean. Anything is fine. I mean, anything is ok. He said in a fluttering tone.

She opened the room. Switched on the air conditioning.

Do you want me to leave the lights on? She asked as she removed her footwear.

Err… yeah. Sure. Why not. He replied with a sense of guilt and fear.

So, first time I’m guessing. She said.

Yeah. How did you find out? Because I have my dress on? He replied.

No, because I have my dress on! She replied.

So, what brings you to me? Or rather, who brings you to be? She asked with a cheeky smile.

Look, I’m a happy man alright. Don’t you conclude my married life is sad. She is a beautiful woman. Loving, respectful, caring. So don’t you say anything nasty. He replied.

Ten minutes down. But you are free to continue talking that while I take a quick bath and a follow it with a nap. Wake me up when you are done. She replied.

He kept quiet and removed his shirt and shoes.

She removed her dress and her black and purple blended lingerie shone against the light of the moon that drew graffiti on the walls.

Beautiful bosom that was gripped together by a bra. Her curves were roads that led to destinations in the far away galaxy.

Her eyes smeared with kohl on the lower lashes and purple eye shadow on the upper. She had fuller lips.  Lips that were meant to kiss. Bite. Suck. All of that.

A sexy small paunch that was flab and fab. A bottom that was as round as button. A button that you would want to pin on the wall and stitch your manhood with it.

Her legs were pillars. Pillars that would keep a palace stand erect. Pillars that will be used to build the King’s courtesan rooms.

She came close to him. He froze. Rightly so. He was speechless. Speechless looking at her. She shone brighter than the moon. She was the sun the night needed.

Her confidence shattered his ego. He wasn’t used to women like her. Most women he met were just women.

Are you ready? Is there anything you want me to do in particular? Role play? She asked.

I don’t know. Why don’t we talk for a while. He said.

Well look mister, you are no Richard Gere and I’m no Julia Roberts. You don’t look like you have too much money. And I want money. I got another 30 minutes. She said.

Can I extend the time? There are rules for that? He asked.

She smiled and sat next to him and put her hands around his arms. How many hours do you want me for? She asked.

Two? Hmmm… no make it three. Four. Ok lets freeze four. He replied.

That would be 5000 she said laughing.

1000 for an hour will make it four thousand right? He asked.

Extending time during the time increases the charge. She replied.

Well ok then. Five thousand it is. He said as he removed his trousers and sat by the window to light a cigarette.

So what brings you here? You haven’t answered that yet. She replied.

That is none of your business. You do your job and I pay you. He replied, puffing away the cigarette.

Fair enough. Whenever you are ready. She said as she got naked and sat on the bed reading a book.

You read books? He asked.

Why? A well read prostitute scares you? She asked.

No, I just didn’t think..

Just didn’t think what? That prostitutes are dumb women who are born to fuck? She asked interrupting him.

Ok so tell me, why were you pushed into this? He asked.

Pushed? I wasn’t pushed. I chose this as my profession. There is no sympathy story to tell you. No poor family. No financial issues. None of it. I chose this. With full heart, soul and body of course. I love my job. She replied.

He was silent for a while.

Why did you choose this of all the things? He asked.

Why not? Why did you choose accounting? She asked.

Because I’m good with numbers and hey don’t compare both. Don’t take my profession down with yours. He replied.

Down? What’s down about mine mister? Ok tell me this, she asked as pulled the chair next to him.

She was too beautiful. He was willing to let accounting take a back seat. But then his ego came in the way.

Well you are a prostitute. Need I say more? You sell your body for money. He replied.

She smiled. As she ran her fingers between her breasts.

He couldn’t look directly. Like the Sun was sitting there next to him.

Darling… She started to talk.

I love sex. I don’t crib after a long day. When I’m tired, I rest. I choose who and when and how much. I don’t cheat during the time I have sex with someone. I’m focused 100% on the job. I don’t put another prostitute down to get my job done. In short, I don’t do all that you do. I only sell my body. You, well you sell your soul. She said as she put her legs on the table in front of them.

He gulped a glass of water and stared blank for the next few minutes not knowing how to respond to that.

Sorry. Didn’t mean to cut you off. I wanted to get the cliche off the table. Well…  we have three more hours and can we please start? She replied.

You do know that you are a very beautiful and intimidating woman right? He asked.

Yes. I’m been told that several times. She replied as she put her left leg on his thigh.

Right. That’s that. So before we start… I’m quite intrigued to know… are you always in the mood for sex? I mean what if you aren’t and you have a customer? He asked running his hands on her ankle.

Well, I don’t think about sex all the time. Like right now I’m least interested in sex. All I want to do is sleep coz you are boring as fuck. She replied teasing his inner thighs with her toes.

He could feel the hard on. He felt the blood rush to his head. The ones below and above. His ego couldn’t hide his erection. Her breasts danced to the tunes of the wind that blew across the open window. They swayed as she moved around. She was naked. Both in body and mind.  So confident. So beautiful. Unabashedly herself. It gave him a hard on in his mind.

Okay… either you’re gay or I’m not the kind of woman you want. Oh no. Wait. I think it’s the former. It certainly is. Just so you know, I don’t charge to be friends with people, OK. She replied.

I’m not gay. Look he is as tall as this building. He said removing the towel and showing his manhood standing tall.

Well. Let’s grow him a bit more then. Shall we? She said.

Wait. What’s your name? He asked.

What’s in a name? Said Shakespeare back then.

A prostitute speaking Shakespeare. That’s a first. He smirked.

Yapping customer. That’s a first. She replied smiling wide.

You are beautiful Viola. Well I’m just going to call you that. He said.

Well sire, you can call me what you may but this Viola doesn’t have twelve nights to spare. You better hurry up. She replied.

She came closer. Spread his legs. Sat on him face to face. She initiated the smooch. He followed. His hands played violin on her breasts. Her moans kept the night alive. Her hands went down his hip and she stood up and dragged him to the bed.

So this is your standard move ? He asked as he was pushed to the bed.

No you gave in pretty easily. She said as she climbed on him.

You are beautiful. He said as he ran his fingers through her hair.

I have better things your fingers can run through she said as she took them and put them inside her.

He watched her moan. He watched her lead him. He watched her glide like a dream.

What are you looking at? Fuck me. She said.

No. I want to make love to you. And I want to do it slowly. He replied.

She got up and wrapped a towel around and sat next to him and looked into his eyes. Do that to your wife. I don’t have time for love. This isn’t the place for love. She replied.

You have nothing but love Viola. I see that in your…

Woah wait wait wait… dude I don’t have time for your poetry sessions. You have another thirty minutes. You want a fuck or not? She asked.

But… He started.

No buts. I have got only big butts. Look here sire. I don’t want to have these emotional talks. I don’t engage in such talks with my customers. I have work ethics.

He laughed out loud hearing her say that.

What are you laughing at? In my work, ethics is sex and only sex. I don’t intend to do anything else. She replied.

Look Mr. Whatever your name is, my body is for sale. Not my soul. That’s the only thing that I have kept as a virgin. Don’t finger that. Your time is up. You need to leave. She replied.

He didn’t say a word. He got down from the bed. Dressed up. Washed his face and lit a cigarette. So what now? Another customer? He asked.

Well…  tonight is going to be just me. No more customers. She replied.

Then let me stay. I’ll pay you for the night. He replied.

No. I don’t want you. I don’t want you here again. Not with me. There are plenty of women down the street. She replied as she sat by the window.

But I want only Viola. My virgin Viola. He replied.

I’m danger. Move away. She opened the door for him to leave. He took his bag and left the room.

She closed the room. Went by the window and gazed at the sky.

There was a knock at the door. She opened it. It was him.

Oh it’s you again. Did you leave something? She asked.

I forgot to pay you. Here is your fee. He said handing over the money.

She looked at him. Took the money and folded it and kept inside his shirt pocket.

Viola doesn’t charge the Duke. She replied with a smile.

Published here earlier.

Image source: pixabay

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About the Author

sharada subramanian

Author of 'Make it 2'. Poet. Extremist. Feminist. Humanist. Mentalist. Filter kaapi and dark chocolate addict. read more...

8 Posts | 35,309 Views

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