Chapter 11

I think that first session sold me on selling out. At the ripe old age of sixteen. But counting my first earnings, I felt pretty good about everything, even if I'd be meeting some weirdos in the future.

I met a real weirdo later that night-my mom. She was really pissed about my cutting school. The school calls home whenever you cut. I'd cut before, but she still was mad. If she would've only known what I was doing... oh shit, I hate to think of what she'd do.

I took it all in stride though, realizing that I had a little nest egg started. Just so Mom wouldn't find anything out, I'd decided to bank my earnings through Gwen, tossing in the meager sum that I'd made in the coffee shop. I didn't want Mom to find a passbook and wonder the worst-hooking or dope peddling ... she would have been right about one count anyway. I know this was putting a lot of faith in Gwen, as she could've skipped with my money if she wanted, but I really trusted her more than anyone I've ever known. I continued to do so, I'm happy to say, although we're on a much more equal footing these days.

Well, the old hassles kept on coming as I continued to ditch more school. Not enough to get my ass kicked out, mind you. I'd pretty much decided that I'd try to stick it out and get my diploma, no matter what the static at home was, or the estrangement from my fellow classmates. Once or twice I'd go out on a date, just for the sake of appearances, but I still got what I believed were some strange looks from some of the kids. I don't think they were hip to the fact that I was turning tricks, as I made it a point not to try that shit around school. But now that I had my little secret life on the side with Gwen, plus the bonus of earning some getaway money, I didn't let it get to me so bad.

There were still the scenes with Mom, especially when I'd cut school, but they weren't as bad. So I tried to hang on, only turning an occasional trick, hoping to make it through with a degree. I was truant enough to give them some problems, like Mom had to come in and talk with the counselor a couple of times. They didn't turn me over to juvie though since I had pretty good grades, despite all the cuts, and I didn't really give the teachers a bad time. They'd harp on about my high I. Q., saying I was college material and all, and still wonder about my attitude. So I'd try to shine it on with Mom, telling her that I really was thinking about going on to school, or a job, anything to keep her off my case.

Gwen was a big help. She'd really bullshitted my folks into thinking she was great. They thought she was working her way through night school, as she laid this whole story on them about how her parents had moved (which they had), and she had to make it on her own. As she was older than me and presented a straight image to Mom, my mother would encourage my visits with Gwen, feeling she was a good influence. I didn't date those terrible boys anymore (When I did date, I'd pick some straight short hair dude to impress her since I got plenty of dope, sex and kicks on the side), and I stopped cutting so much. In short, I was following Gwen's advice and trying not to make waves. Just get through those few more months, get the degree, then split. It wasn't easy, but since I had Gwen to fall back on it was bearable.

If Mom would have known that it was Gwen who was responsible for the infrequent truancies ... fuck. And that I was smoking lots of dope, practicing AC/DC sex, screwing for money. She would've flipped. But I kept up a straighter and straighter image during the senior year, so the blowups between Mom and I weren't so frequent. The funny thing was that a lot of my straight friends from days back were getting into all kinds of trouble with dope, everyone but Linda. She was going so straight from what I could see it made me sick. I really was glad now that I'd frightened her that night. Probably made her a candidate for the D. A. R.- anything to help.

I didn't turn tricks too often, as Gwen tried to keep the. weekends free just for the two of us. We could never get tired of rubbing and eating out each other's pussies it seemed, no matter how often we made it. When she advised the straight-arrow image for the home front, she ruled out most of the midweek sessions, not wanting me to have to be truant, or to make the drive clear back to the Valley. But if Mom knew I was with Gwen, Gwen always made sure I got back in time for school.

You don't want to fuck up a good thing.

I remember this one twosome we pulled together just because of Buddha's smile. I guess I'd better go into some background on this.

I still had only pulled one single since teaming up with Gwen, as it would have been difficult for me to make arrangements for a motel and transportation. I was dependent on Gwen for the place and car, and frankly I was glad she was able to see me around the rough edges so that I'd be in good shape whenever I went out on my own. I remembered too well the first attempts I'd fucked up on my lonesome.

There'd only been this one single, and Gwen had been in the other room. It was with an old standby of hers who'd called up one weekend when she wasn't booked. Gwen was feeling a little sick as it was her time of the month, and even my loving hadn't helped much. So she asked me if I'd like to try one of her regulars who'd come into town for a convention, cupping her hand over the phone, and I said sure, although I wasn't quite sure. She told him the situation, and he agreed.

Gwen assured me that the guy was harmless, and he turned out to be. He must've been about fifty-a real Rotarian type. I got fifty for my short workout on the couch, and Gwen let me keep it all.

The rest of the time we worked doubles, splitting the take. Like I said, there weren't too many of these as we had to try and schedule them on weekends, which wasn't always the case, and sometimes led to a truancy. My mother didn't know I was with Gwen on those nights, and I'd have to make up something, a ritual Gwen was trying to discourage. Shit-I just remembered this one time when I was truant, my angry mother called up Gwen, telling her to talk some sense into me about this truancy crap, since she seemed to have such a strong influence on me. Mom gave me the phone, and I tried not to crack up, listening to Gwen's mock lecture come from the phone. If Mom had known that I'd been truant because Gwen and I'd been entertaining some men at a motel...

Buddha's smile. An old Russian proverb as told by A. S. (don't want to besmirch the recently disposed writer of his moral integrity by mentioning his name in a joint like this) in a work spread from the gospel of India.

Yes, I'm getting to it. So there weren't that many guys willing to pay for a twosome. Sometimes we'd get a couple of men who didn't mind partying in front of each other, who could get two girls for the price of one by splitting the tab, but that didn't happen too often. And we didn't work a lot of weekends, as Gwen wasn't out to get rich quick. She only wanted an easy way to make a substantial amount without breaking her ass in getting it.

So this one double that we did this weekend in January came up. He'd been a customer a couple of times before for her, and he'd casually asked if she knew of any other girl who could work with her in a twosome. Solid.

The guy's a lawyer, fairly young with curly dark hair. He's been recently divorced, and can't hit up on enough chicks to satisfy his constant demand for sex. He'd been to pros before when in need, and felt no qualms about utilizing them again. But like I say, the guy can score on his own and does. But he got to thinking that he might as well get a scene on with a girl that he can't usually do with a straight pickup. That's it! Two girls!

It is arranged. For a guy with bread, the apartment he'd rented was fucked. Oh, the place was nice and roomy, but the furniture was really off the wall, a combination of about three phases of Post-WWII Hollywood furnished design. Adding up to yuk. He seems to notice that I'm taking all this in, the production paintings of shipwrecks...

"My wife took everything," he read my mind. "So this is it until I can get my own place together. You'd think a lawyer wouldn't get taken to the cleaners the way I am, but divorce is not my line."

I liked the guy immediately for his easy manner. I went and sat down while he got us a drink. I decided to try a beer as that's what he was having, figuring I wouldn't get so looped, and even Gwen, who usually goes for stronger mead, made it unanimous.

I lit a cigarette (I'd recently taken up the evil weed to calm my nerves when away from the real thing as far as smoke goes) and tossed the match in a large ashtray. Then I noticed this horrible gold-leafed statue of Buddha behind it on the table.

"I almost tossed him at first," Steve said. He'd obviously been watching most of my moves. "But I figured he sort of brought the total insanity of this room together. And we'll never know if he's really Jewish or not, the way he sits there with his hands in his lap, smiling that funny smile."

We talked a short while, chugging down the Coors, but soon it was time for better things. Following Gwen's moves, we went over to the chair where he was sitting and attacked him. He liked the girl to make the moves sometimes, and since there were two of us, it was to be a psuedo-rape at first. Nothing heavy, no flashback to real rape. Even if it would have been this way, at least I was the rapist and not the rapee.

We finally got him down to almost bare facts, and pulled him away from his Coors, climbing all over him. We both teased him, blowing in his ear While rubbing him all over, the other girl biting at the thighs. We took turns blowing him, warning him not to come. His face got strained and red, but he held back, signalling us when he was about to come. His cock really pounding by now, but he liked it this way, working up a nice set of aching nuts so that when he came he really blew his rocks off.

I finally got to ball him on the floor, Buddha smiling over his shoulder. And that's Buddha's smile. What do you want for a story? Got to make an attempt at plot. Shit. We balled Steve in his bedroom too, and got a hundred each for our night's efforts. The only thing that was weird, was that when we left, he gave us his card and told us that, while criminal law was his specialty he didn't usually handle pros titution cases, but if we ever got into trouble, to give him a call. It was a jolt of reality, for that would be a possibility, I realized.