Prostitute Tales

I unlock my Private Locker now. This one’s buried deep. That entresol bedroom, low ceiling, pink like candy. Rain outside. I’m Tess, blonde, violet eyes, tight skirt, black raincoat, thigh boots. Swaying hips up the stairs, inches from his face. He’s young, pimply, nervous. Not my usual pick-up from the street. But he circled the…