forward to were men like George, until he grew too old and used up to make money selling his body anymore. What would happen after that was anybody’s guess.
After George slipped from the room Mark fled to the bathroom shower and attempted to scrub his life from his skin. Alone now, he released the memory he’d held back earlier. The hands soaping his body became paler, the fingers longer—musician’s fingers. When he wrapped a hand around his cock, it wasn’t George or any other client that came to mind. Mark had sold his body to many, but only given his love to one. Unfortunately, when he’d run away and left everything behind that included his heart. Eric still had it. Faster and faster Mark stroked, imagining chocolate brown eyes and thin lips stretched wide, a studded tongue skillfully working his flesh. Breath harsh and erratic, he finally came, the shower washing away the evidence along with his tears.
“I still love you, Eric,” he whispered into the steam. “And I always will.”
Cleaner on the outside, but feeling stained and dirty on the inside, Mark hurried to the hotel’s front desk to turn in the key before being charged for another hour. The aging clerk leered, exposing yellowed, tobacco-stained teeth. The vile little man reeked of cigarettes and worse. “When you gonna give me a freebie? I’ll cut you a deal on the room.”
“Willie wouldn’t like that,” Mark replied, thankful he wasn’t required to get any closer to that rank, unwashed body—not without payment, anyway. The clerk’s grin disappeared. Sometimes Mark hated his pimp, but having someone to answer to did have its uses. No one bothered him, too afraid of Willie’s thugs, and those times he’d been arrested the charges had magically disappeared. Still, Mark viewed himself as a circus freak at times, putting on a show regardless of how he felt, to whoever paid for the privilege.
Some, like George, weren’t so bad. He was clean, didn’t want anything kinky, and at least tried to make their encounters pleasant for Mark. George also gave decent tips.
Other customers, like the first of the day, were brutal. Despite being sore, Mark bit his lip against the pain and kept going. Thankfully, his second customer was more thoughtful, and the third only wanted his mouth. While not particularly gentle, George’s cock wasn’t overly large, either. No real hardship there.
Mark paid for the room and left the hotel, wrapping a threadbare jacket tighter around his scantily clad body. The jacket had once displayed the emblem for Hart County High School before he’d defaced it to hide where he was from. He was just another whore with no past, no future, only the here and now. His old life, in which he’d been a decent student, was gone, never to return, and not finishing senior year put an end to any hopes of college. His father had been so proud when he’d started filling out applications… NO! Mark yelled at the memories, go away!
A year’s practice left him better at tuning out unwanted thoughts and his rumbling stomach helped, providing a distraction. Intent on spending George’s tip on a nice meal, he rounded the corner in search of his favorite all-night diner. A car pulled up alongside and a darkly tinted window whirred down.
Mark looked right and left before approaching the waiting vehicle. He really didn’t want another customer, but if one of Willie’s spies saw him walk away from easy cash he’d be in real trouble. Taking a deep breath and slowly exhaling to calm jangling nerves, he approached the lowered passenger side window.
Even in the low light he could see that the man sitting behind the steering wheel was fairly attractive, with light brown hair and a medium build. Mark leaned into the car and smiled as he’d been taught to do, though his heart wasn’t in it. He’d gotten good at lying, even convincing his body language to play along. To customers he must appear willing and able, always. “Looking for me?” he purred, striking a seductive pose.
“Could be,” came the casual reply. “I’m looking for a bit of entertainment. What will it cost me?” Despite the fact that the sun had long since set, dark glasses concealed the man’s eyes. Lots of johns wore similar disguises, but Mark really wished he could see those eyes. The guy appearing impaired was a valid reason to walk away. Even Willie didn’t tolerate drug abuse. Rumor had it that someone the pimp once knew had