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He Paid to Fuck Me
Everything has a price, but this one was worth it.
We’d been getting to know each other for weeks.
Him and me.Long conversations, lingering looks, sexual tension that kept building with every casual encounter. But nothing had ever happened. Work.
Life. The usual excuses we give when we want something but don’t know how to ask for it.
Until he decided it had to happen.
Yesterday. No more waiting. No more excuses.
“I’ll book a motel,” he told me. Straightforward. No hesitation. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.
And maybe it was. Maybe that was exactly what we both needed: someone to take the lead and say, “enough waiting.”
He paid.
Paid so we could fuck.
Paid to create a space where there was nothing else but the two of us, our bodies, the desire that had been simmering for so long.
And somehow, that made everything more intense.
More real. More urgent.
I got to the motel with my heart pounding. It wasn’t nerves.
