My Sweet Prostitute (English Translation)

Chapter 4

Camila's POV

I was still lying in bed, on my the same way that Lauren had left me to go and take a shower.
My face was buried on the sheets, my hands still gripping the mattress. I was face down, motionless.

Why? Why had I allowed that? Why had I let her take possession of my body so completely? My body!

For the first time in my life, I  knew what an orgasm was. I didn't know if it had been strong or weak, but I knew it had been one. Even without having felt one before.

'Cause at that exact moment, my head was completely empty, and I experienced a pleasure outside of the limits of consciousness. Yes, it had definitely been an orgasm.

What was still taking me time to understand was, how I had managed to feel pleasure? And why, my God, why the hell had I let her finish? To let her show me what sensations my body still lacked.

-"Damn it! Shit, shit, shit!"

I was cursing myself mentally, in the same position on the bed. I was infuriated at myself because now I knew that I didn't even knew myself completely, for allowing a client, a stranger, to show me that.

And I was cursing my own self mainly because I knew, it would be impossible now, to put Lauren at the same level of insignificance that my other clients.

The bathroom door opened slowly and I straightened up as fast as I could. I lay down on the pillows, my back on the bed, covered by the sheet. She came out drying her hair with my towel.

-"Sorry, I had to use it. You should put more towels in the bathroom for your clients."—She said.

-"Sure, I'll ask Chloe to buy me fifteen towels at day."—I replied dryly.

She stopped her actions, staring at me, processing what I just said.

-"You're right..."—She concluded.

I waited in silence.

-"Do you attend fifteen clients a night?"

-"No...about ten."—I replied reluctantly.

Why were even talking about this?

-"I see..."—She said, thinking a bit and making a face to herself.—-"Well, I have to go. We'll talk tomorrow."

And without saying anything else, she left.

* * * * * * *

I woke up the next morning with the events of last night, fresh in my memory:
Lauren. Bed sheets. Sex and orgasm. Money.

Great.

My own conscience against me. I got up in a bad mood. I took a bath, put on my cream for bruises, and went to have breakfast. I chatted with the other girls for a while, but soon I was back in my room, locked up, reading.

I felt protected there. It was my private castle, my hiding place. Although I liked to hang out and chat with the girls and Chloe, I always spent most of my time alone in the room.
Some girls thought that I was antisocial.

I didn't care.

On that day, more than ever, I needed to read.
I always loved books because they always took me to an alternative reality. A fiction where I could wander with my thoughts to the limit of my imagination. Many times I found myself imagining my own face in the characters. And yes, I always found myself pathetic for that.