Prostitute • Shawn Mendes

Seven

KENNEDY

I wake up rather early, my head is resting on Shawn's bare upper chest as his arms are resting on my hip. I look around to see that we are laying on the couch and everything around us is a mess, the floor is covered with empty, red solo cups and colorful confetti strings. Bodies are asleep on the ground, girls with their dresses lifted, guys with no shirts on.

Last night was completely crazy, Shawn and I took drink after drink and drug after drug, I think we started with marijuana, but then we were given pills and from there things were wild.

Shawn and I danced like idiots, his hands were everywhere, his lips were pressed onto my neck, then from my neck up to my lips, then from my lips back to my neck. I couldn't help myself at all, I returned the movement, placing my hands all over his body, my lips all over his neck and lips. The weird part is, even though I was high on some sort of pill and drunk out of my mind, I felt something, it felt real, like if maybe this was truly something great. So great that I brought him to the bathroom, I locked the door behind us and stood on the toilet seat, he wobbled over and I found myself falling into his arms, his muscular arms gripped onto my ass as I began to kiss him. When I started I couldn't stop, the kisses were sloppy but pleasurable, his tongue was exploring my mouth, but I wanted his tongue to do more.

I let him lift up my dress, and from there all that was heard was moans coming from both Shawn and I. His fingers were placed deep inside me, my back was arched as he still carried me, I screamed his name, I screamed so loud that anyone in a ten foot radius could hear, but I didn't care, I wanted everyone to know that he was the birthday boy, that he deserves this. And that is exactly what I did, because when we walked out everyone patted his back and winked at him, the girls gave me dirty looks but I couldn't care less. I was falling hard for him.

Shortly afterwards we began to pop more pills and drink more alcohol, Shawn was out of it, but me, I was still feeling pretty good. And, I think it's because this is the first time in forever that all of this was consensual, the sex, the drugs, no one forced that on me. To be honest, I never thought that sex was this good, but when you finally are able to be conscious and pick who you want to fuck, it's the best feeling ever. Or, when your high on some type of drug, but it's not forcefully injected into your veins, it makes you feel so alive.

I look at Shawn again, he's knocked out. I want to stay with him but I can't, if I don't go home, I don't even want to think about what would happen to me. I want him, I want him so badly, I'll do anything to have his hands all over me again, his lips everywhere. I begin to softly shake him, attempting to wake him up, but he won't budge, he just turns his body over and makes a sniffling noice through his nose. I sigh as I get up from the couch, this is probably the last time I'll ever see him, it's rare to keep in contact with a client, but he was way more than that.

I grab a napkin from the ground and a pen from the small brown table next to the couch. On the napkin I write my number and my name, with a small note on the bottom, just explaining how much fun I had and how I would love to do it again.

I begin to step over the scattered bodies on the ground and make my way over to the door. As I am about to leave I realize that I am barely wearing clothes, my dress was cheap, so it's a bit torn on the bottom, it's a tight black zipper up from the front and the zipper had broken off, exposing most of my boobs.

There's no way I can go out like this, it's freezing, especially in the morning I believe it's in the negatives right now and I would have to walk home.

I'm sure Shawn wouldn't mind if I grabbed one of his sweatpants and a sweatshirt of his, right? I'll just leave another note, I know he'll understand.

I continue to walk around bodies as I make my way upstairs to his room, when I open the door I'm exposed to two naked bodies who were probably fucking on the bed, this party really was wild.

I go to his big drawer, but inside there is nothing but marijuana and other small unimportant things. That's how it is in all of them, so where is his clothes? Does he not have any?

As I am looking around I see that he has another door in his room which is probably a closet, maybe he's a closet person?

I walk over to the closet and carefully open it, just to have my eyes widen once I get a look inside. "Holy shit." I mutter to myself.

It's a huge walk in closet, drawers everywhere, shoes scattered on the ground, flannels on hangers, it's like "Welcome to My Crib: Rich People Edition."

I open the first drawer I see, but only to see his underwear. Then I go down to the last, there's a pair of black Nike sweatpants, I carefully remove my dress and slide on the pants, leaving me in oversized sweatpants and my black bra. I rumage through the rest of his drawers until I come across a red OBEY sweatshirt and throw it on over my head. I look in the long mirror, everything is really baggy on me but at least I'm warm.

I exit the closet and search for a napkin or a piece of paper, luckily finding a note pad and a pen on his work desk.

"Hi, It's Kennedy again. I grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt so I could walk home, it's freezing outside. In return you can have my cheap dress." I wrote, smiling as i place the note on his night stand.

As I begin to leave the house, I notice that Shawn is still fast asleep, his arms are stretched out by his sides and his lips slightly parted, I quickly walk over to him and run my fingers through his soft hair. Carefully, I bend my head down so that our lips are almost touching, then, I press my lips onto his, but he can't feel it because he's asleep. I slowly pull away, realizing that this may be the last time that I'll ever kiss his pink, warm lips. I just want more, but I can't, If I stay here who knows what'll happen to me? Martha, I don't even want to think about the things she'll do.

I let out a sigh as I get off of him, I walk over to the door and open it, then exit the house. Red solo cups scatter the ground, same with broken bottles and more strings of confetti.

I try not to look back because if I do, I know I will run back in there and never let go of him.

I just met him yesterday.

I've never been this connected to a client before, you're not supposed to, but I just cant help it, I can't help already missing his kiss, his touch, his smile, oh my his smile.

What has he done to me?