In fourteen days of whoring Terry had screwed twenty-two Johns, none of whom satisfied her sexually, although they all were good guys. She had a couple of local politicians, a famous baseball player, some big-wheel corporate people, and a smattering of local and out-of-town businessmen, all married. She took her first two tricks at the flat, and was scared to death. But, being first-rate clients, they were awfully nice and tried to put her at ease. The other girls gave her tips on how to get the client off in a hurry. However, she said it wasn't necessary to use special motions with most, they popped pretty fast, anyway.
The one thing Terry hated was having to suck cock. Call girls, unlike street whores, do not charge for each separate service; the price includes anything the customer wants, within reason. And also unlike street whores, it is not considered good etiquette to ask a client to wash himself before hand, it's assumed that he will be clean. Most weren't, especially uncircumcised men. Terry even tried to hold her breath while sticking but it didn't work very well. Often she had to fight back retching. She enjoyed being taken out for dinner, going first class on the town, and resigned herself to the rest.
I've known enough whores to know the business fairly well, and also the people. Any hooker or ex-hooker who writes books telling about the great life she had and how fantastic the sex was is just simply full of shit, there's no plainer way to put it. Glorious tales of wild orgies may sell enough books to make those broads a lot of bread, but truth they ain't.
Financially it wasn't such a great deal for Terry, either. She had taken twenty-two tricks, five for one hundred dollars, and seventeen for fifty. She made a total of thirteen hundred and fifty dollars, out of which she had to give half to the house for rent, bail, and jail fund, lawyers, doctors, and payoffs, including that unknown portion that the other girls stole from.her because she was new and square. This left her with six hundred seventy-five dollars for two weeks' fucking, or three hundred thirty-five per week, which isn't bad. But wait a minute. She's out of action one week a month with her period, and whatever other days she wants to take off. The three hundred thirty-five is for a seven-day week, so this means she actually made only a thousand a month, or two-fifty a week, about the same as a good private secretary. And because she was new and fresh she was in great demand. After a while those figures would have dropped considerably. Still, it was better than working in a hash house and living in a cellar.
We had a nice dinner and talked far into the night. I liked her very much, and I knew that she liked me, but I wanted to play it very cool, to be sure that she still didn't confuse me with a John. I got out spare blankets to make up the couch, but Terry insisted that I sleep in my own bed, and that she should take the couch. She threatened to leave if I gave her any trouble about it, so I acquiesced. As she was making up the couch I stripped naked as normally as one might take off a jacket, and went into the bathroom to shower and shave. Normally I don't shave before retiring, but I figured I had better play it safe, because I wasn't sure what, if anything, was going to happen.
When I came out, laundered and dry-cleaned, Terry was smiling.
"I guess you're not shy after all, are you?" she said.
"You mean because of this afternoon?"
"Yes."
Now I smiled. "Baby," I said, "I like you. I'll be your friend or your lover or both, but I'll never be your John-not as long as I can still get my hands up and down my cock to jack it off."
We both laughed.
It was strange that Terry made an effort to keep her eyes on mine and not look at my dangling dong. "Are you looking only at my face to show me you're a hardened veteran and could care less, or are you the shy one?" I asked.
She blushed. "I didn't know I was doing it."
"It's okay," I said. "I took in every inch of your body today and came to the conclusion that you're female. K you'd like to look down, it might reassure you to know that I'm not."
Then, making a point of it, she looked me over carefully as she slid under the blankets. "You're definitely not," she said softly.
I kissed her good night just once, gently on the lips, and went into the bedroom to sleep.
I think I was aware of light in the room before anything else. The sun was just coming up, its rays streaking up Jackson Street and obliquely through my Venetian blinds. Then I felt her arm around me, lying heavily across my back, her weight pulling at the mattress next to me, her breath warm 'and steady into my left shoulder.
I must have been deeply asleep, because I had no idea how long she had been there. Shifting my weight, I turned to face her, feeling myself get hard as her scent and softness permeated my senses. I watched her face for a long while, distorted slightly by her pillow. She was so tiny and cute, so helpless and trusting that I felt almost paternal toward her, but paternal with a hard-on. I stroked her cheek and tousled hair with the backs of my fingers, moving closer to her as her eyes opened slowly and regarded me sleepily for several minutes. She moved closer, pressing my cock against her soft belly, so warm and giving, and we kissed very slowly, very lovingly, as our hands explored with a light touch. She took hold of me lightly, moving her hand along the length of my shaft. We were still on our sides. She threw one leg over my waist and guided me into her. I had never felt a woman so wet without first having a lot of stimulation. She held me tightly until it was fully within her. Then for a long time neither of us moved, except to kiss and caress. Finally, slowly at first, and then wildly, we made love. And then I used my mouth on her and she on me, and this time I knew she didn't mind, I knew, even though we were wet with each other's juices, that she loved it, knew that I could never again be a John to her. And later, although I was still only semi-hard, I put Terry gently into the right position and entered her again. This time it was long and tender and so sweet. It was the first time since Mora that I had felt really satisfied with a woman. We made our cocoon, our small box of space, darkish and warm, and floated endlessly in it. The universe became our bodies and our feelings, and there was nothing else.
Terry stayed with me until summer vacation was almost over. She loved to cook fattening Greek foods for me and I gained about eight pounds, as we ate at home almost every night. She was sweet and kind and generous, but not overly bright. She had an annoying habit of being a slob, leaving clothes and things strewn about the apartment. When I would ask her to be neater she would try, but shortly fall back to her old ways.
Unlike all the others who had stayed with me, I had no thought of throwing her out. Our lovemaking was too good and pleased both of us too much. Terry was the first girl whom I actually tried to teach, as Mora had taught me. Sex bouts with adolescent boys and two weeks as a pro hadn't given her enough opportunity to learn. I taught her sex, a little bit at a time, from anus to urine, and she enjoyed it all. As a matter of fact, Terry liked urine even more than Mora had, after I gave her my own version of Mora's little talk on what is dirty and what isn't; what is normal and what isn't. She went so far as to buy a rubber sheet to put on the bed, because my shower and bathroom were small and cramped. I will admit that it did feel much better to piss on each other in the comfort of the bed; and even lying in pools of wet urine didn't bother me. However, if we didn't get up to clean the bed within a couple of minutes it became cold, sticky and quite smelly. Also, it was a pain in the ass. Terry would grab one side of the rubber sheet and I would grab the other, and we would have to let it drop in the middle, where the urine would collect, and walk gingerly to dump it into the shower, being careful not to drip any on the carpet. After a while, we did it less and less, not because we didn't enjoy it but because it was just too damn much trouble.