From Mother to Daughter

Had a rather interesting night at work...

I arrive at the client's home to see that it's not the client I'm meeting with, but rather her daughter. At first, I'm stunned. Why? I'm not sure -- plenty of fathers have bought their sons prostitutes, so why not the same with mothers and daughters?

Perhaps I hold women to a "higher standard", or expect them not to engage in such blatant acts of sexual consumerism. However, I'm never one to turn down a booking, especially when the girl was only a year or two younger than I am.

It seems she'd just broken up with her boyfriend and wasn't in the mood to try and find someone new. Like many young people, she just preferred sex for the time being. And have sex we did -- in her childhood bedroom, which still had a few relics of her past.

"What is it?" she said, as I lay on my back and looked around the room.

"Nothing -- it's just feels like a teenage girl's room, that's all. Not something I see very often during work."

"I'm surprised they kept it like this. I figured once I moved out they would have turned my room into an office or a home theater or something."

"Home Office," I said. "That's what my best friend's parents did. Whenever he goes back home he stays in the guest room. Better than sleeping right next to a fax machine that has a mind of its own."

After glancing at the bedside clock, I told the daughter I needed to get going. She paid for an hour, and that's what she got. I thought about asking how she went about asking her mother about my services, but decided against it. The last thing she (the daughter) wants to be reminded of is that she just paid for a whore -- and had her mother's help in finding one.

"Goodnight," she said. "Thanks."

"No problem. Tell your mother I say hello."