She has nowhere to go. Stop making your readers think I’m a hooker, she says. Will you please buy me a plane ticket.
And I do. It’s cheap, a hundred bucks. And I’m a trick for doing it. But who fucking cares. In six weeks I’ll turn forty. Nothing left to prove with pussy. I look like the fucking chamberlain from the Dark Crystal. Never had money. I’ve had the shittiest, most debased jobs; spinach pickers are cooler than me. Went to the shittiest schools for pussy. Lived in the shittiest towns for pussy. Walk around feeling my gangliness, ugliness, stupidity, weird voice weird face small penis like a cigarette burning the back of my neck since I turned six fucking years old and I’ve still got more pussy than anybody. I’ve fucked like god damn Caligula. The Floyd Mayweather of pussy. No fun to watch but I am un fuckin defeated.
Now, ease into being a sugar daddy. A hundred bucks. Unquestionable grade A piece of ass in my house. She grew up middle class but fucks like a ward of the state. Walk with her down the street. Have guys look at me, think I’m cool. Pretend she’s my wife. Have her listen to me. Tolerate me. I get to sleep next to somebody and be touched. A good deal.
We’ll say I love you. Talk about making it work. Pretend it goes somewhere. That’s what I’m paying for. Feeling that it has a future. Paying for pussy: absurd. When my last date told me her dad beat her I took her home and choked her out with a finger in her ass. Made her look in the mirror. We’d known each other sixty minutes. Pussy is free. Love you have to buy. Buy it with charm, fame, or just money. Whatever it is, better have more than her.
I make her write every day. Only way I know to help her. Only way to make her respect me. She’s good. And she’s a hot girl. Year from now she’ll be famous. I’ll wave as she rolls up the limousine window. She’ll forget me when she eclipses me. Women have to lose. When they win you make them sick.
Relax. Channel your love into compassion. Be a good host. Show a good time. Get her mind off problems. Love her like a friend. Like someone you can help. If you love her like a girlfriend she’ll kill you. Last time she almost fucked the guy who wrings out dishrags at the corner bar. Broke your heart a little. This time, who knows. She could get hooks in you. Destroy hope that you can love again. After all it’s full GFE.