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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Adult · #1549576
Two views of one sordid session.
The Escort:

The reflection in the mirror is foreign to me,
the girl I see bears no resemblence of who I used to be.

My suggestive smile is coated with bright red lips.
I drink my red wine; a few too many sips.
My black corset draws attention to my feminine hips.
I hope that my client is generous in tips.

A knock on the door and it is time to let go of all inhibitions,
it is my job to give this dirty man all my attention.

He walks in casually and looks lustfully at me,
My stomach churns but I must fulfil my duty.
Inside I tremble with terror as his fingertips stroke dominantly.
Outside I moan with pleasure, as my heart is full of misery.

How did I become this girl who sells herself?
I can barely recognise myself!

All over; he is done with me and gets dressed to go,
looks ashamed and hopes no one will know.
He gives me the money and leaves as cold as snow.
Now I am alone again, waiting for the next man to show.

I have become emotionless, no need for feelings in this robotic profession.
I have a quick shower and prepare myself for the next seedy session.

The Client:

The reflection in the mirror is foreign to me,
the man i see bears no resemblence of who i used to be.

My hat is kept low to hide my eyes just incase,
I wear unusual clothes so I won't be recognised in this place.
My appointment is quick; i want to leave without a trace.
I hope that my girl has a pretty face.

I knock on the door and tell myself to let go of all inhibition,
this will be my only time here whilst my wife improves her condition.

I walk in casually and lust after her sexy pose.
I am nervous but desire her skin soft as a rose.
She gives me divine pleasure unable to be matched in prose.
I am enjoying true ecstasy and outwardly it shows.

How did I become this man who uses girls who sell themselves?
I can barely recognise myself!

All over; I am done and get dressed to go.
Guilt has set in but I hope it won't show.
I give her money for her services cold as snow.
Now I am alone again, waiting for the bus home.

I have become emptionless; no need for emotions when mixing with people in this robotic profession.
I have a shower and prepare dinner for my wife who will never know about my sordid session.
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