He used to be a pimp, but now he fucks me. And I thoroughly enjoy every minute of it. I guess there’s something to be said for the tricks of the trade, although, maybe that pun just went in so deep that it’s not even funny.
He’s good at what he does. He’s good at fucking me. And I get to fuck him for free, which feels like a small victory because I know that the price of sex with a man like that is too high for a mere mortal like me to ever afford. He says nice things to me, and I almost believe them, but then I remember that he used to be a pimp. So I laugh instead. I like the dreams that he sells me, but I am just a window shopper in his world of delirium and disaster. Although I wonder how long it will take before I trip up and lose all my money in this affair of no hearts.
He has a bottom bitch. She’s okay. She pays for things for him. She makes his life possible. I don’t want to be her; I just want all the sex that she has with him all the time. But I don’t want to be her. I don’t want to be the one that knows him so well. That takes care of a man who uses women for his own financial gains. I fuck him for free, but the price of loving him is more than my heart can afford right now. So I bite back on my jealousy and watch him crawl back to her every time. I tell myself I’m prettier and I’m smarter, but it’s not about that. Pretty and smart isn’t the best way to become a bottom bitch. Being a bottom bitch is for the women in this world who can so wholly supplicate themselves to a man without a thought for themselves while he puts his hand down her pocket and into her wallet.
I tell myself that I am lucky to not be in this game, but, really, I would be lucky if I could figure out a way to stop fucking him. Unfortunately, he’s a master of allure, and sex sells to a woman like me. I’d like to get out before it’s too late, but someone out there would probably call this love, so I stick around and wait for him to fuck me again. He used to be a pimp, but now he’s just a regular bad person, and I’m the idiot who loves fucking him late at night without a care in the world.
I feel like a whore, even though there’s no money around, just because I know that every time I fuck him I am selling my soul to the devil for the small price of just one more orgasm, please.