Hush Hush

by Lucia Franco

"Listen. You want to make it? Sometimes you have to lie to Paul to steal from Pete. And if you really want to be a cut above the rest, you have to cheat on Pat and fuck his friend, Paco."

Oh! And here's a tip—before you go on any appointment, use spearmint spray to relax your gag reflex and coat your goods in coconut oil for easy access. Both make a huge difference, unless of course he's got a small dick. If that’s the case, you lick it like a Dum Dums lollipop and pretend he's got an anaconda hanging between his legs. No working girl wants a big dick. It's too much work and requires hazard pay.

"How old are you?" "How old do you think I am?" "Early forties?" "Fifty-two." My brows raise in surprise. "You don't seem like a normal fifty-year-old." His chuckle is robust and deep, and he brushes his free hand down his beard. "How old are you?" he asks. I debate lying as I take a sip of cognac, but figure there’s no harm in him knowing my age. "Twenty-one."

"Sex is how you connect with another person. It's where you see their vulnerabilities and insecurities, where you want to make them forget everything but remind them you're there for them. When you're both into each other and understand each other's minds, it's a deeper connection. It's how the intimacy grows."

It's never crossed my mind to call someone a name for their personal preferences, and it bothers me that the one person who should always have his side is the one who ostracizes him. What people do behind closed doors is none of my business and I would never make them feel like shit for it. What I find gratification in, someone else might not, and I'm okay with that. It's what makes us all so interesting.

From what I’ve come to understand, there are two things that are an absolute must in a relationship for everyone: intimacy and trust. Intimacy is the bottom lock on a door. It can be toyed with and sometimes popped open for others to enter if there isn't a strong trail of communication. Trust is what seals the relationship and keeps it solid, the bolt that keeps both people locked in and makes that intimacy build. I can't afford to be trapped when he has the key, and a year from now when he unlocks that door and says goodbye, I'm walking out with the clothes on my back and nothing more. I'm not asking him to throw away the key, but I'm not trying to start anything more either, and I feel like that's what will happen if I let go and really give myself to him. I don't see why I can't just give him the sex he wants and nothing more.

Blow jobs. Catnip for men.

"It's always the ones you never suspect who have the filthiest minds." I giggle. "It's true. You're ratchet." Her face lights up like I just gave her the biggest compliment of her life and we both fall over cackling.

"I'm not changing my life for anyone." "Yes, you are. You're mine, Aubrey, no one else's," he says, yanking down my little shorts. "Just like I'm yours."

"You did give me everything. You gave me what mattered most. Guidance and love. You taught me to respect people and give back to those who are less fortunate than us. You instilled good qualities in me, ones I think about all the time."

"If you don't leave now, I'm going to make you mine forever. It's what you want. It's what I fuckin' want, and we both know it. Last chance, sweetheart."

"We're more than just friends, Aub. We're like soul sisters, wet sisters, our own little gang, each other's tribe, my squad. Whatever you want to call it. How can we be epically fucking amazing when one half is missing? Answer. We can't. You're stuck with me for life, Ram Jam. I just needed a little time."