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rose from his chair and said something to
his colleagues, and then
came over, stopping right beside me.
"How much?" he whispered, without looking at me.
"How much what?" I asked back, frowning.
"For the entire night... you and me, what do you say? How much... $500?"
I almost spit out my last sip and my heart was thudding wildly in my
chest. Was he offering me money to sleep with him?
"I ... ahh ..."
"Alright, $1000, but you'd better be good, and for that kind of money. I
want bareback." A thousand dollars! Oh man... I could really use it.
But... what the hell was bareback?
"Okay," I said, not believing I was actually going to do this. "A
thousand. Up front." If he was going to pay me for it, then I wanted to
make sure I'd get it.
"No. $500 now and $500 after."
He pulled out his wallet, and plunked down five hundreds without so much
as blinking. I saw even more where that came from, so I knew he'd be
good for it.
"Alright..."
I pocketed the $500 and followed him out the bar, passing the desk in
the lobby. That's as far as we got; from behind, a hand gripped my
elbow, and none too gently. When I looked up, my eyes met with a pair
of startling blue ones.
"What do you think you're doing, hmm? Hustling in my hotel? I don't
think so."
I had no idea who he was but he was tall, though not as tall as Mr.
Pastel, and broader. I'm only 5'8 but he towered over me by being at
least 6'3.
"And you, Sir..." the man spoke with a posh British accent, addressing
Mr. Pastel, "are lucky. But please; next time, try to not show the
contents of your wallet so publicly."
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