Mature content warning. Neon was originally published by Curiosity Quills on April 11, 2013. Unfortunately, a re-branding and website update lead them to unpublish this piece from their website. Enjoy!


Lace and leather. Dark nights and body heat. Shivering. Where’s your mind going right now? If you’re a man it’s not hard to guess. What? You think that’s sexism? Well guess what? I don’t really care. Everyone has buttons. Men just make theirs easier to figure out. Sex. It’s both my business and my pleasure. Want me to paint you a picture baby? I can be whoever you need me to be. It’s the oldest business, what I do for a living. I can honestly say I enjoy every minute of it. I’m not afraid of it. I don’t care about the loss of self respect or the risks to my health. It gives me a rush, and I’m talking more than just a climax or an orgasm. It’s a pure feeling of bliss. To me it’s better than any drug, which is probably why I don’t do any. No smoking, no drinking and no cigarettes. My mother would be proud. If she weren’t worm food. Besides, that woman had tracks longer than the Nile. I never wanted to be like her. I wanted to be someone else. Someone worse.

Fucked up?

You’re damn right. But it’s the only goal I’ve ever had in life. I’ll lay it all out for you. Thirteen: decided I had no future. Sixteen: I lost my virginity to the next door neighbor. Seventeen: I hit the streets. By the time I was twenty-one I’d worked my way up to a high-class hooker, an escort. I’d met this guy one night. He dressed real sharp and paid well. Told me he’d give me a better job with far better pay. He smiled at me and told me my ass fit real nice in a pair of jeans. It was easy to figure out my next move. I ran a hand down to his fly and started the interview. You might call it disgusting, but ever since then I’ve lived the high life.

All the gains with nothing to lose.

Sweat and Heat. Gasp. Shudder.

Tonight it was the same thing. A nicely dressed man with a big wad of cash. I unclasp the bra slowly, pull down my underwear. Run my hands down my body, in between my thighs. He’s a regular. So I already know he wants a show. I watch his face. His body movements. I look to see where to press. I lick my lips. Ah, yes. Right there. His pupils dilate and he shifts in his seat. I have him right where I need him to be. With him, it won’t be bondage, so I won’t get to lose myself in it tonight. This time I’m in control of the ride, the speed and the variation, the height. He gets off watching me do my best work and hey, what can I say? I’m a girl who loves to please.

What gets me off? It’s either times like this where I have complete control, or other times where I have no control at all. With the first I can set up a scene and create a fantasy all my own. With the second I can lose my identity for awhile. I can curl up into a rush of pleasure and forget everything. It’s riding the wave. I go where it takes me and I always like where it’s headed. Up and down the easy street to six. Six is my lucky number. So I know if I can get a combined total of six orgasms, it’s been a good night. Right now though, I’m grasping the wave. I slide easily and float away. Nothing matters anymore. I take one last ride down, for all it’s worth. It has to be a good tonight because tonight?

Well, it’s going to be my last.

I head back to my pent house and look over all the paperwork that’s been set up. I decided to go out doing one decent thing in my life. The only decent thing I’ve ever done. Every penny I have left behind, I’m donating. I’m not sure if the money is depreciated coming from a girl like me, but that’s the beauty of anonymous donations. I don’t think it’ll matter. I line up sixty different pills. Remember, six is the magic number. I curl up with them and a new friend: Jack. I don’t usually spend much time in the company of men outside of work. I like having sex with them, mostly because of this curse of heterosexuality, but they don’t tend to do it for me otherwise. In everything else I prefer women. Although, I’d never turned down sex with a woman when the pay was good enough. But tonight I guessed I’d make an exception. I take the pills three at a time. I open Jack up and tip him over. He goes down easy enough. I grab a blanket, pull it over my head and close my eyes. I laugh a little as I drift off to sleep.

“One last wave baby. One last wave.”

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