The shirtless man moved seductively across the stage, one foot in front of the other. His body moved effortlessly through the lust-filled cloud that surrounded him. Muscles tight, abs right and complexion DARK. Meat and chocolate for the soul; I easily lost control in his tangled web.
BOOM…BOOM…BOOM. He thrust his hips to the beat of the erotic drum. Our eyes met and in that moment he silently spoke a language that meant only one thing – “I’m yours WHENEVER and HOWEVER you want me to be.” I smiled and silently replied, “Daaaayyyum right.”
BOOM…BOOM…TIC The melody slowed and his movement became more concentrated and defined. A second later he broke through the lust-filled cloud to allow me inside. Once I was in, he closed the door and wrapped me in his arms. Visibly I bit my lower lip while secretly opening my other pair. Fallen I’d become. Deeply entangled in the moment, I hardly noticed the dollar bills being thrown in his direction.
BOOM…BOOM…TIC He rubbed his hands around my waist and further down my back. I rocked with him to the slow, luring beat. His dance continued effortlessly as I caressed his body, slick with sweet-scented oil he must’ve gotten from Harris at the incense shop. Before I knew it, he put one hand in between my thighs and lifted me until I was face down. Sweet goodness was close to his face as his lips met mine from the flipside up. “Oh Heaven,” was all I could say but I was actually closer to the devil.
BOOM…BOOM…TIC He flipped me back on my feet and pulled me over to a chair. He set me down and began to dance circles around me. I followed his body as best I could, controlling the convulsions within me. Seeing him dance drove me crazy! He placed my hand on the tiny hilltops that sat upon his abs. Dayum, can I get some of that, I thought to myself. I took it one step further and started examining his body with my fingertips. “Hmmmm,” I moaned softly as he continued to dance around my fingers.
TIC…TIC…TIC. The melody closed, and his dance came to an end. He kissed me on the cheek and whispered in my ear, “Taste good, ma.” I chuckled, wondering if he knew that I’d anticipated our moment ever since I saw him do the same dance for the last girl who paid for a moment inside his cloud.
I returned to my seat with a smile on my face and his kiss dripping down my leg. My friends hooted and hollered at the fact that I was abducted by Dream Catcher – the stripper known for his ability to turn a woman out. My phone rang and in an instant I was released from my abductor. “Hey sweetie, I’ll be home right after the waiter gives us the check.” I lied to hold on tightly to my secret. On the inside, I was glowing and in the back of my mind, I was hoping that for a small moment later on, Dream Catcher would smile at the thought of me too.
This was my true last thought before I ended my life. A fantasy of Dream Catcher, the only man I didn’t screw. And to think, I was worried about mosquitos.
DIARY CONFESSION 1
My past wasn’t haunted by drugs, pimps, ‘Johns,’ or violence, but rather by something more detrimental to the spirit. It was a force that ate me up and broke me from within. It was a force that most people feared. Unfortunately I was one of the unlucky few that had to endure such a pain; thus giving me a name. A name I was ashamed to bear; one that kept me branded to the essence of his scent. By the end of this journey, you will know why I am called “An Emotional Prostitute.”
February 4, 2001
Mom loaded the dishwasher. I waddled to the bathroom with a full belly. We just finished eating my favorite meal – spaghetti and garlic bread. Dad was slouched on the couch with the remote wedged between his folded fingers. Every thirty seconds, he flipped to a different channel, also too stuffed to move.
As I was about to wash my hands, a fat mosquito landed on the edge of the sink. I shrieked and ran out of the bathroom, my arms in the air. “Mom, come here!”
She turned to face me, “What’s wrong?” Her voice was just as elevated as mine. Dad ignored both of us, probably since it wasn’t his name I yelled.
“A mosquito!” I screamed, pointing in the direction of the bathroom.
“Mom placed the dish she was holding in the sink and calmly walked to the bathroom. I followed her. We both stood in the doorway as the mosquito sat on the sink, totally oblivious to its impending execution.
“Move back, babe,” she said as she pushed me slightly to the back of her.
Fear turned to humored enjoyment as I watched her swat at the mosquito with her bare hand. SPLAT! The mosquito was dead. Mom reached for a paper towel to wipe up the remains.
“All gone, babe,” she said as she ran her hands under warm water.
When she finished, I stepped in the same spot and looked at the sink one more time to make sure the mosquito was gone. I squeezed the soap bottle and turn on the warm water.
Over the sound of running water, dad questioned my fear of the tiny insect.