He also wasn’t bad looking, I suppose. While he was a far cry from any of the men I’ve ever been attracted to, I could see how he might one day make some miniature lady quite happy. His non-repulsiveness was a surprise in and of itself. I had assumed that all of my clients would be absolutely disgusting.
I sat down on the couch while the munchkin went to his fridge to get us both mineral waters. I do not like mineral water, but I needed to buy some time when I realized how foolish I was in my choice of footwear: steel-toed boots. While I was the proud owner of many lovely pairs of high-heeled shoes, I had decided that in order to play up the cute rock chick Suicide Girls angle, I should wear my massive, steel-toed combat boots. This would not have been a problem if my boots were older, but unfortunately the trusty Doc Martens I wore throughout much of high school had given out only about six months before and their replacements were still so stiff that they took about five minutes to get off my feet. Ugh.
I began work on one of my boots, but I had significantly underestimated the amount of time it would take the munchkin to return with two cans of La Croix and an envelope. I put the envelope in my bag, opened the mineral water, and pretended to take a sip before returning to the removal of my boots. As determined as I was, my rush to get them both off in record time only led to awkward fumbling and they probably would never have left my feet if the munchkin hadn’t sat on the floor and yanked them off for me. I was terribly embarrassed. I was sure that my inability to remove my boots was a sign of inexperience (it was) and equally certain that that inexperience would be considered negative (of course it wouldn’t).
Once I had my boots off, the munchkin immediately started to kiss me. I had stated in my advertisement that I offered a “girlfriend experience,” but it wasn’t until that moment that I connected the dots. I never had any intention of explicitly forbidding kissing, but I sort of expected it was not something one did with a prostitute. Luckily, there wasn’t enough time for my shock to become apparent because he moved suddenly to the side of my head, sticking his tongue as deep into my ear canal as it would go. I wasn’t sure if slugs burrowed and I was sure they didn’t burrow in people’s ears, but… if they did, I knew what it would feel like.
The only thing I could think to do in order to get his tongue out of my ear was take my shirt off. Unsurprisingly, it worked. Soon he was taking off my bra and slobbering on my nipples, rather than in my ear, giving my a perfect window to pull a condom out of my skirt pocket and suggest we get down to business.