written at night, lying on my stomach, with my feet still wet
I can’t sleep.
I made 650 today, I think. I didn’t count them all, I just put them in a pile next to the phone.
My knees hurt and I feel a burning sensation between my legs.
But I can’t fall asleep. I’m still tingling.
The last client left an hour ago.
A German guy. Big. He held my head down, but not in a nasty way. In a “shut up and take it” kind of way.
And I took it. Like a sucker who hadn’t been wet in a day.
After he left, I stood naked in the room for about 10 minutes. I turned on the fan, but it still burned between my thighs.
I reached down and yes, I was wet. Not from him. From me.
I started rubbing myself slowly, with my eyes closed, my face pressed against the sheet.
It smelled of semen and sweaty skin. Exactly what turned me on.
I rubbed myself slowly with wet fingers and thought about all the faces that had looked at me today.
The ones who came in and said nothing. They just took out their dicks and fucked me.
The ones who apologized, as if fucking me was a favor.
The ones who left and said “thanks.”
Thanks my ass.
I moaned alone in my room, and it wasn’t one of those movie orgasms.
It was rough, short, deep, like a shock.
And afterwards, I was left naked, with my hand between my legs, thinking that tomorrow I’d have to start all over again.
But here’s what I mean:
the fucking that really breaks me doesn’t end when the man leaves.
It stays inside me. In the smell. In the flesh. In the pain. In the lust.
Sometimes I rub myself even after three clients in a row have left.
Not because they weren’t good. But because I want more than they can give.
I want everything. I want it until my skin breaks. Until I scratch myself. Until I forget where I am.
And yes, sometimes I fuck myself with my thoughts. With memories. With what they didn’t have the courage to do to me.
And I still drag myself along. And I still like it.
I don’t want peace and quiet. I don’t want love. I don’t want “take care of yourself.”
I want hands that squeeze, voices that command, and those cocks that fill me up and then leave.
So I can get my hands on myself and carry on.
Alone.
In the dark.
Just the way I like it.
Cea mai bun futai e ala care nu se termina nici cand pleaca
scris noaptea, pe burta, cu picioarele inca ude
Nu pot sa dorm.
Am scos 650 azi, cred. Nu i-am numarat toti, i-am pus gramada langa telefon.
Ma dor genunchii si simt ca am o arsura intre picioare.
Dar nu pot sa adorm. Inca ma furnica.
Ultimul client a plecat de o ora.
Un neamt. Mare. Mi-a tinut capul apasat, dar nu in sensul ala nasol. In sensul ala de “taci si ia-o”.
Si eu am luat-o. Ca o sugativa care n-a mai fost uda de o zi.
Dupa ce a iesit, am stat goala in camera vreo 10 minute. Am dat drumul la ventilator, dar tot ma ardea intre pulpe.
Am intins mana pe sub mine si da, eram uda. Nu de la el. De la mine.
Am inceput sa ma frec incet, cu ochii inchisi, cu fata lipita de cearceaf.
Mirosea a sperma si a piele transpirata. Adica exact ce ma excita.
Ma frecam incet, cu degetele ude, si ma gandeam la toate fatzele care m-au privit azi.
La aia care au intrat si n-au zis nimic. Doar au scos pula si m-au tras.
La aia care s-au scuzat, de parca futerea mea era o favoare.
La aia care au plecat si au zis „merci”.
Merci pe pula.
Am gemut singura in camera, si n-a fost un orgasm din ala de filme.
A fost dur, scurt, adanc, ca un soc.
Si dupa, am ramas goala, cu mana intre picioare, si cu gandul ca maine o iau de la capat.
Dar uite ce vreau sa zic:
futaiul care ma rupe pe bune nu se termina cand pleaca barbatul.
Ramane in mine. In miros. In carne. In durere. In pofta.
Uneori ma mai frec si dupa ce au plecat trei clienti la rand.
Nu pentru ca n-au fost buni. Ci pentru ca eu vreau mai mult decat pot ei da.
Eu vreau tot. Eu vreau pana mi se rupe pielea. Pana ma zgarii. Pana uit unde sunt.
Si da, uneori ma fut si cu gandul. Cu amintirea. Cu ce n-au avut curaj sa-mi faca.
Si tot trag de mine. Si tot imi place.
Nu vreau liniste. Nu vreau dragoste. Nu vreau „ai grija de tine”.
Vreau maini care strang, voci care comanda, si pulile alea care ma umplu si apoi pleaca.
Ca sa pot sa-mi pun mana pe mine si sa continui.
Singura.
Pe intuneric.
Exact cum imi place.