Emmanuel

There'd be times when I would have to eat an unethical amount of cheerios to make up for how much money I made, and what I did in return to the economy. Typically I would become immobile. It was one of those food comas you get when you surpass the extent of your physical stomach and end up eating into your emotional stomach. I would then recite a monologue I made up when I was in elementary school about a nun and a bear, which I got an award for. The title: The Special People Award.

There'd also be times when I'd see a picture of a client and I'd smell something in my room, like ketchup, and immediately that person would be forever affiliated with ketchup, therefore discontinuing my relationship with ketchup. Like Emmanuel. Emmanuel ruined soy sauce. I can't even look at soy sauce without involuntarily expressing a face of disgust and intrigue. but mainly disgust.

Emmanuel was in the mood for a man. I was in the mood for lasagna. I never got my lasagna but Emmanuel got his man (it almost felt pro bono). I don't really like referring to myself as 'man' or 'boy' and especially 'sugar daddy.' Mind you, I've never been called 'sugar daddy', but still I would never ever ever want to be a 'sugar daddy' and will most likely attempt to kill myself if someone were to call me their 'sugar daddy'.

I could sense his cock getting bigger before I even arrived. I could see it before I saw it and could taste it before I could--would--will--did taste it. As I sat down on his couch, he pulled the "let's start with a movie and see where it takes us" card. shocker. What he really was pulling was the "let's start with a movie and see where I take you" card. again. shocker. Suddenly, as he was hastefully undressing himself as well as myself, I felt a sudden rush of immortality. Maybe I felt this way because I finally realized I was the man on top (mentally). I was not the one being explioted here, oh no. It's the men who use their hard earned cash for a connection with another human being. I felt invincible. No matter what he could do I knew I could survive like a cockroach in the middle of a nuclear war. I could take any punch, any kick, any bullet, any sexual demand (except golden showers. Ew.). I let out a smile which confused him. Poor Emmanuel. Poor, mortal Emmanuel.