I have to admit the first thing I noticed was her bum. I'm not sure how old she was -- somewhere in her mid-twenties to early thirties? But God, her butt looked nice. It was nicely packed into a pair of jeans. She wore a light blue hoodie and sneakers. When she turned, I noticed she held some folders that she carried like a student. She held out her arm with her thumb raised, the universal hitch-hiking sign. She smiled at me as I slowed down and pulled over. She had one of those ultra-bright smiles like her teeth had just been whitened.
I couldn't help it. I smiled too and stopped. To my great surprise, she hopped right in without any formalities.
"Where are you headed?" I asked as I started to drive again.
"Just a few blocks from here."
"Are you a student?" I asked.
"No! I'm twenty-seven years old. These are for work."
It is late July and her voice sounds delicious. "Ahh. I'm Tom, by the way, in case you were wondering if I was a serial killer or anything."
"No, I wasn't."
She smiled again. One of those innocent little smiles that young girls make that they should bottle and sell in supermarkets.
I drove for a few ticks in silence.
"Do you date?" she asked.
"Date?" I repeated. I probably sounded like her father. "Like, do you mean, do I have sex for money? That kind of date?"
"Yes, if you want to put it that way." She seemed a little offended.
"Why would you want to do that? I mean, you're a nice looking girl. I'm at least 15 years older than you."
"So you're perfect. I need the money, not a guy or a relationship. I'm on the pill. No boyfriend. I used to give it up for free, so I figure, why not, YOLO."
"What's yolo?" I asked.
"You only live once."
"Oh, and you only die once too," I added. I looked over at her and she smiled again. "What's your name?" I asked.
"Liz."
Liz wasn't a supermodel, but with her bright smile, black hair parted down the middle, large brown eyes and perfect eyebrows, she wasn't bad looking either.
"So, if we were to do this dirty deed, how much would it cost me? Where would we go?"
"You're considering it then," she said.
"I guess, I don't know, maybe.
"I live with my mom. She works until seven, and it's three o'clock now, so we would have the whole house free until then."
"Okay, how much?"
"A hundred and fifty dollars."
"Did you say fifty?"
"No, I said one hundred and fifty."
"You're not wearing a wire, are you?"
She smiled at me again. "Maybe."
"Just my luck."
Her mom's house was a pale green single-story ranch house on a tree-lined street that is common in the San Fernando Valley. I parked the car and after she got out, I did too. I followed her to the front door and into the house.
"My room is this one," she indicated. "The bathroom is down the hall and to your right."
"Oh, and before I forget, one hundred and fifty dollars, please."
*Yeah, like you would forget* I thought. I pulled out my wallet and found the hundy that I had folded up and hidden in my wallet.
I gave her the money, found the bathroom, went inside and took off my clothes. I gazed at my reflection in the mirror and couldn't help but see the face of a good-looking middle-aged, divorced white guy with thick, blonde hair and a stocky build. I couldn't help but notice more than a few grey chest hairs though. I stand 6'2" tall and weigh 186. My biceps still look like I work out. I cleaned my "junk" with soap and hot water in case there might be oral sex and toweled off.