Accidental Man Whore

by Katherine Stevens

  I’m an idiot.

  I don’t want to hurt her feelings, but I am not in the mood for this tonight. Men can not be in the mood, too. It’s a thing. I would rather be checking on my dad, and sleeping in my own bed with my anxious ferret.

  The elevator opens at the top floor. Sasha uses a keycard to open the door. Now that I think about it, I’m not sure where she got that card. She wasn’t holding it and there’s definitely not enough room in her dress for even a grain of sand.

  Molly stands in the middle of the room with a champagne bucket and heels. She’s not wearing anything else.

  “I see we are cutting right to the chase,” Sasha says. She tugs her dress down to the floor and steps out of it.

  Molly sets the bucket on the coffee table. “One of us is wearing too many clothes. It’s not me and it’s not Sasha.” She walks over and unbuttons the top of my shirt.

  Sasha kisses along the side of my neck. This feels off. Something’s not right. They should be softer and have longer, darker hair. Molly’s lips aren’t the right shape. Sasha’s lips feel weird. Their eyelashes are too long.

  When did I start noticing eyelash length?

  “What are your last names?” I ask. I hadn’t thought about it until yesterday, but I don’t know most of my clients’ last names. I only knew Miryam’s because I heard someone say it at the bar mitzvah. A random one-night stand is one thing, but these women are standing in front of me naked for the second time, and I don’t know their names or what they do for a living or what they do for fun. I know absolutely nothing about them.

  “What did you say?” Molly steps back a second before Sasha does.

  Half of me is screaming to just bone these women so they’re happy and I get paid. The other half wants to see if Miryam will break some Shabbat rules and talk to me on the phone. Yeah, I’ve been doing more research.

  “Don’t you think it’s weird that we don’t know each other’s last names? That’s weird, right?”

  “Not any weirder than standing naked in front of a man who wants to play twenty questions.” Sasha crosses her arms.

  I’m not good with reading body language, but I know that’s a bad one.

  “What’s your favorite TV show?” Give me literally anything to make me care about you at all.

  “Are you fucking serious right now?” Molly joins her friend on the crossed arms team.

  Maybe I was just scratching an itch with the mindless sex before, but now I’m bored with it. I could inflate the doll Steed gave me as a prank if I wanted to blow my load in a plastic hole.

  “You know, I’m not feeling so great.” That’s not totally a lie. I have a real-life porn happening in front of me and I don’t even have the start of a boner. I think my dick is broken. Or it wants something else.

  “Is this a joke? Are you trying to be funny?” Molly’s face is turning the same shade of red as her hair.

  I button the top buttons of my shirt. “I think I’m coming down with something. I’m going to go home now.”

  “He’s got to be fucking joking.” Sasha grabs my arm with a tight grip. “Are you trying to shake us down for more money? Because that’s bullshit. We pay you more than we’ve ever paid anybody. You better rethink this.”

  I jerk my arm out of her hand. “No, I don’t want your money.” I’ll make small payments to the hospital for the next year if I need to. This isn’t worth it. This stopped being fun a while ago. Maybe I should’ve become a drug dealer. At least I would know what I was getting into. I signed up to be charming at parties, not get tied up and attacked by naked women.

  “You’re seriously leaving?” Molly asks. “Are you gay? We can work with that. Sasha has a strap-on in her purse.”

  I hate this fucking job so much.

  ***

  I call Miryam as soon as I get home, but it goes straight to voicemail. She must have her phone off. I strip off Stephanie’s clothes and toss them in the corner. Mr. T bats his ball around the bathroom while I shower. I feel too gross to get in my sheets. Something’s off and I still don’t know what it is.

  I get a few hours of restless sleep, then bum around my house most of the morning. I’m being petty as fuck, but I don’t want to show up when Stephanie told me to. Miryam’s phone is still going to voicemail. I’ve changed Mr. T’s shirt three times. I’ve called my dad, who won’t let me come over today. He says if he wanted a nanny, he’d hire one.

  I guess it’s time to face a dragon. Hope I don’t get eaten.

  I grab the box of clothes and Stephanie’s phone. I’m an hour later than she wanted. To be honest, I’m scared to see what will happen if I’m later. She might turn into an actual praying mantis and bite off my head.

  She storms out of her office the second I walk into her lobby. “I was just sending Javier to your house, Benjamin! Where is your phone? I’ve been calling for hours!”

  She’s always been rude, but I’ve never seen her angry. I’m loving this side of her even less. Didn’t think that was possible, but here we are.

  I set the box on the desk in the lobby. I’m too much of a pussy to walk closer to her. “I’m done. Here’s your stuff back.”

  She doesn’t say anything, which is scarier than the yelling. It’s just silence. My hands are sweaty.

  She takes a step toward me. I step back.

  “Have you sustained a head injury, Benjamin? Is that why I have two very upset clients who say you abandoned them last night?”

  I try to sound stern, but I can’t take my eyes off the long red fingernails tapping against her skirt. She could slice my jugular and I would bleed out on this marble floor. “I don’t want to do this anymore. This isn’t what I signed up for. I wish you the best.”

  Jesus Christ, I sound like I’m signing her yearbook. Maybe I should tell her to have a good summer.

  She takes another step toward me and I force myself to stand still.

  “You think you can just quit?”

  She’s not great at listening. “I think I just did.”

  “Do you think hookers are unionized, Benjamin? Do you think you can come and go as you please?”

  This is going worse than I thought it would. Which is incredible. “I’m not a hooker. I get paid to entertain women.”

  “And fuck them.”

  So I guess she heard about that. This couldn’t suck more. “The people I choose to sleep with, I do on my own time. That’s not part of our deal. I’m done entertaining them.”

  She laughs and I swear Disney needs to get its ass over here to record this shit. She has a better villain laugh than all the villains in their cartoons.

  “Are you really this fucking dense? You think they pay you to sit around and watch the most banal thoughts fall out of your mouth? You think these women pay you thousands of dollars to listen to you make small talk about the weather? I’ve met some stupid people in my life, but this takes the cake. Benjamin, they pay you because you look good and you can fuck like an animal. Period.”

  What the actual hell? I’m seeing all of this totally different now. Sure, I didn’t ask a lot of questions because the money was good. Too good even. Someone should’ve mentioned prostitution, though. They should have to post a notice in the employee breakroom or something. So many things make sense now. I am the dumbest motherfucker. If I’m a hooker, then…

  “Are you my… madam?” Oh my God, Steed was right. I can never tell him.

  She laughs again and its creepier the second time. “Yes, you imbecile. I own this ass everyone wants a piece of. Get your head back in the game or I’ll give the cops an anonymous tip about your recent activities.”

  Is she threatening me? This bitch is threatening me. “That would just lead them back to you, Stephanie. Which one of us is stupid now?”

  It’s probably still me because I didn’t notice I became a prostitute more than a few months back. But she’s being a dick.

  She has to practice that laugh in front of the mirror every day. I’ve heard it three times
now and that’s three times too many.

  “Benjamin, I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you have. If you don’t think I have protections in place, you’re dumber than I thought. Who do you think takes care of half the Miami police force? If I’m not lining their pockets, I’m filling their holes any way they like.”

  Ew.

  “I had no idea I was still on the clock when I was sleeping with them. I’ll tell them you set all of this up. I needed money to help my dad and you took advantage of that.” This is such bullshit. I’m not going to jail for this bitch.

  “Benjamin, no jury is going to believe you’re as dumb as you are.”

  That’s hurtful.

  “Fuck you, Stephanie!”

  She swings her hand at me, her long-ass nails shining in the light. I catch her hand before she can claw off my face.

  “Only one person gets to hit me, and you’re not her.” That came out wrong, but whatever.

  “You’re going to jail, Ben. Expect to see the police very soon.”

  She looks deranged, but she always kind of has. I never want to see her crazy face again.

  “This game of yours is over, Stephanie.” I point at the box on the desk. “Keep your fucking phone and your clothes. I’m out.”

  I don’t wait for her to say anything because it would ruin this awesome exit I’m making. After Sasha, and Molly, this is the third person to get aggressive with me in the last day. I’m pretty much over it. Pissing her off will probably cost me the contract with the management company. I’ll have to start from scratch with The Plant Doctor. It won’t be the first time I’ve started over. My dick isn’t her puppet, though. I put it where I want, when I want. Period.

  ***

  I’m pissed all day. I pace all over my house. I almost step on Mr. T four times. He decides it’s safest to hide under the couch. I really fucked myself over. I don’t want to go to jail. On top of that, my dad is going to be pissed if I get arrested for prostitution and not drugs. I knew something was up and I didn’t care because I needed the money. I wonder if that’s enough to get me sent to jail. Maybe I’ll like prison. They get lots of gym time and TV time. I could get down with that. As long as I can stay an anal virgin. That’s important to me.

  I need to get out of the house by nighttime. I’m too keyed up to sleep. I try Miryam’s phone again and it rings this time. That’s a good sign.

  “Hey, stranger.” She sounds like she’s in a good mood.

  I’ve gone 0-3 with women here lately, so I’m tempting fate. “I’m in the mood for ice cream on the beach. It’s not safe for a guy like me to walk around by myself at night. Do you want to go with me and protect me?”

  “The buddy system is the best. Let me put on some shoes and I’ll meet you. Text me the location?”

  This woman is better than those other three combined. “I’ll do that right now. See you in a few.”

  ***

  The beach is the best place to relax when you’re worried about things. The giant ocean makes you feel small. I get there before Miryam, so I wait to order my cone. I don’t know what kind of ice cream she likes. I have a one-in-thirty-three chance of getting it right. Those aren’t good odds.

  She pulls in to the Baskin-Robbins a few minutes later. She looks like she just came from working out. She’s in a tank top, short leggings, and sneakers. I can’t wait to see her turn around in those leggings.

  This is the first time we’ve seen each other outside of a work situation. I don’t know if I should hug her or kiss both cheeks or what I’m supposed to do. I wait for her to make a move, but she doesn’t. I guess we’re not there yet. Which sucks.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi.”

  Why is this awkward? It shouldn’t be awkward.

  “Do you want to order something?” I sound like a waiter.

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  I motion for her to go in front of me because I’m a goddamn gentleman, but also because I want to stare at her ass. But mostly the gentleman thing.

  She orders a pistachio cone, which is not what I would’ve guessed. I had her pegged for a chocolate ice cream girl. I order a rocky road and we take our cones outside.

  “I like Miami Beach at night,” she says. “It’s got so much vibrancy, but the sounds of the water make it calm, too. It’s such a strange juxtaposition.”

  “I can’t imagine not living near the ocean.” We cross the road and hit the sand. Everything is better at the beach. Whatever I was upset about before is gone.

  She grabs my arm to stop me. “Can you hold my cone while I take off my shoes?”

  “I’ll hold it, but you have to let me try it in exchange.”

  She narrows her eyes. “Do you have mouth herpes?”

  I pretend to think for a minute. “Not in a while.”

  She puts the cone in my hand. “Then you can try it.”

  I’ve never had pistachio ice cream before. It’s actually good. I’m solidly in the rocky road camp, but this is not bad.

  She takes off her sneakers and socks and puts them in her bag. “You like it?”

  I hand her cone back to her. We walk side-by-side to the shore. “I do, actually.”

  She looks at the waves in front of her. “It’s weird when that happens, right? You think you know yourself and what you like. Then something comes along and surprises you.”

  This got heavy fast. I don’t think we’re talking about ice cream flavors anymore.

  “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

  We watch the moonlight reflect on the waves. I love nights where I go out with my friends or go to a game, but there’s something to be said for a quiet night on the beach with ice cream and a pretty girl.

  “Let’s go put our feet in the water.” She grabs my forearm, drops her bag, and pulls me.

  I stumble out of my flip flops trying to keep up with her. She jogs into the water, stopping when it’s just above her ankles. She pops the last bite of cone into her mouth. She’s slower than me; I finished mine a few minutes ago. I notice she hasn’t let go of my arm. I don’t try to take it back.

  “My mom used to bring me out here when I was little. I would pretend I was a mermaid. I thought if I tried hard enough, I could grow a tail.”

  She’s looking at the water like she can see something more than waves. She’s never mentioned her mom before. I don’t know that I want to ruin this night by asking where she is. Moms are a tough subject anyway.

  A big wave comes into view, headed right toward us. She screams and runs back to the shore.

  I follow her, laughing. “You want to get in the water, but you don’t want to get wet?”

  She smiles at me. “I said I wanted to get my feet wet.”

  I laugh at her again. “The ocean doesn’t know that. It’s just out here oceaning. It can’t help it if you’re too prissy for nature.”

  Her mouth drops open. “Prissy?”

  She kicks water at me and I jump back.

  “Who’s prissy now?” She laughs.

  “Oh, you’re going to regret that!” I kick twice the water at her.

  She stumbles back and almost falls in the waves. I grab her arm right before she does. I jerk too hard trying to save her and her body bounces against mine. I’m pressing my luck again, but fortune favors the… something. I’m not good with sayings.

  I move a piece of hair off her face. “I want to kiss you again, but I’m scared to. Are you going to hit me?”

  “No. I promise not to hit you.” She bites her bottom lip the tiniest bit.

  I get an inch closer to her mouth. “I want to believe you, but I need assurances. Will you sign a legal document that says that? You’re an attorney. I think you’ll respect a legal document.”

  She blinks and steps back. “You want me to draw up paperwork before we can kiss?”

  I dig in my pocket and pull out the wrinkled napkin from my cone. “Write it on this.”

  “You want me to sign a napkin?”

  She looks so
flustered and so beautiful. Goddamn, I want to kiss this woman.

  “I can’t kiss you until I have your written permission, Miryam.”

  “I don’t have a pen.” She looks like she just threw down four aces in a poker championship.

  I pull a pen out of my pocket and hand it to her.

  She shakes her head. “Fine. Turn around. I have to use your back as a table.”

  I turn and she writes against my back.

  “There. Does this suffice?”

  I turn back around and she hands me the napkin.

  I read it out loud to her like she doesn’t know what she just wrote. “Kiss me. I will not hit you. And you signed your name. Or drew the Nike logo. I can’t tell.”

  She picks at the hem of her tank top. “Admissibility in court is shaky at best, but I can get you something notarized in the morning.”

  I don’t care what any of that means. I stuff the napkin and pen in my pocket. I put one hand on her back and one behind her head. I kiss her for the second time, and this time is even better. She slides her tongue into my mouth. It tastes like pistachio ice cream and the ocean air. I pull her tighter against my body. Her bare foot rubs up and down my calf.

  There are plenty of people around. One of them has probably stolen my flip flops. But I don’t care. Her long black hair blowing around us makes it feel like we’re all alone.

  Every summer night should be like this one. This is perfection.

  CHAPTER 14

  JUNK PUNCHES

  MIRYAM

  I’m sitting in my office with the door closed, running my finger across my lips. I don’t even know who I am right now. I signed a napkin begging Ben to kiss me. The napkin wasn’t begging, but my brain sure was. I didn’t know a person could be kissed like that. This is the second time he’s kissed me where I could feel it through my whole body. If his lips can do that, what can the rest of him do? I don’t need to think about that at work.

  There’s a tap on my door and then it opens. My assistant sticks her head in.

  “Are you feeling okay? You’re flushed.”

  She would be flushed, too, if she got her soul kissed right out of her.

  I tap a stack of papers on my desk to straighten them. “I’m fine. It was just a little stuffy in here.”