now...
One
She leaves first thing in the morning with a small carry bag. I saw her pack it: skimpy lingerie, sex toys, phone charger. This is why she's getting away from me, to fuck other men and herself.
We hug at the door, and I'm tempted to ask her to stick around for one more fuck, but what's the use? It won't really make either of us feel better. It was a simple exit. She's out the door and out of my life, and this great feeling of liberation crosses my entire body. I've felt this freedom before, and I know it won't last for weeks, so I know I should enjoy it while it lasts.
This is how I commemorate my return to the Kingdom of Single: I go to my work, and call all of my girls to the lobby as if we have a customer and they are presenting themselves for him or her to choose; but the person seated in the customer's chair is me.
My shop is called Championship Sexual. I sell sex with prostitutes and room hire. Dark skin, light skinned, Asian, blonde, redhead, braces, fake tits, big ass. Everything for the serious woman lover, as the ironically old-fashioned writing across the top of the door says. We're in a quiet street a few suburbs out of the city, carefully placed to attract the bare minimum of casual passerbys, but conveniently close to a free parking lot. There's no reason to come here at all, unless you live here, and the people that live here don't seem incredibly thrilled with my line of business and specials available "Hire two girls at once and get $50 off room-hire."
I get by because sex is a natural need that we need to have fulfilled in life, and for those of us who need to go to a special effort to find a sexual partner. Middle-aged to young men. Always middle-aged to young men, with dark jeans wearing dark clothing and sunglasses who've earns themselves massive pitstains by walking around the block from the nearby car park so as to not raise suspicion. I advertise in the back of glossy pornography magazines and online. I get middle-aged to young men who seem to spend a disproportionately large part of their time wanking at porn given they end up paying me and the girls anyway to get the real thing.
I get to work in a lull before a group of bookings, during a time I know we're unlikely to be disturbed. All of my best girls are there ready for the rush, and I enjoy their surprise as they see me in the customer chair.
There's thirty girls in front of me in a few minutes time, dressed in all different styles as you never know what a customer is going to want. One girl's wearing a t-shirt tucked up like a bra and pyjama style panties. Another girl's in just an open black leather jacket and a black g-string. One girl has just a carrier bag with the strap covering one nipple leaving the other beautifully exposed, and the bag covers her pussy.
I have girls so perfectly committed to making themselves feel good, making our clients feel good and earning money for the store and themselves that when I invite them out for lunch or dinner, they look mornfully at the box of as yet unused condoms and sigh. "I'd love to, but we've got a lot more of these to get through to make a lot more people happy."
"Good morning ladies."
The girls fumble and move around, sexily but they're visibley curious as to what exactly is happening.
"Good day today?"
"We have a total of seventy-six bookings over twenty-seven ladies for a total of fifty-four room hours."
"Great." I knew all of this already of course.
"Stephanie, Lucie, Maddy; step forward." These are the girls without any appointments today. They're hot girls, and if we get any walk ins, these girls will do well, but they don't know how to secure the forward bookings. To get the guy hard again as he gets dressed and makes his way out the door, before seductively hunting that he should book again so she won't have to worry if she'll ever get to see him again.
"So how have your weeks been so far? Have you been earning enough to pay your bills?"
They all nod to me and smile, "Yes, Master."
That's my next biggest concern, making sure these ladies aren't being forced to go hungry even after turning to sex employment to earn a crust.
I don't know what to say to these ladies. Precious few have any idea of my personal life; not because I'm closed off to them or anything, I just don't really talk about my life like that with others. They'd likely be sympathetic and caring if I told them a brief snapshot of recent events though, but that would just give all of the knowledge and power to them, not me, and I don't want my reputation or influence to crumble to dust.
"Our results lately have been stuck in the in-between. Some good times, some bad times."
The girls nod in understanding and look to me for guidance. This was clearly the right thing for me to say.