Oh Sombra!

"Ew, yeah right." Philip said, looking up from his sidekick. I rolled my eyes. Philip was not fooling me on this one. Looking at him now, staring at me with his large shiny dark eyes and perfectly formed round head, one might believe that his counter to my previous statement was truth. However, because I know this boy in front of me, I would not be fooled. I folded my hands and leaned forward a bit, leveling my height with his from across the table and creased my features into a small, malicious smile.

"He fucked you in the morning."

Phil opened his mouth in a sort of expression that was meant to convey shock, but turned into something of a laugh. "I hate how you know it was in the morning."

My smile opened up a bit and became more genuine. "Just because you look like a cute, innocent asian twink doesn't mean that you ARE. Come on, Phil, I've been at this game a long time. I know how it works."

"Oh, that's right, you're the White Diamond, Queen Of The Night, Roxanne.. You know, Lord of the Hookers."

I snorted and bit into the french fry I had been holding in my hand. "Don't forget 'Pleasure-Bringer to The Unpleasurable.'"

"Ew!" Philip exclaimed, "but, it's so true."

"Indeed it is," I replied, "but what can ya do?"

"How DO you do it, anyway? I could NEVER imagine having sex with some old gross dude."

Again, I smiled. I chewed the last bits of the french fry, musing over the best way to interpruet this for my little friend. "Well," I began, "I think that everyone has something to offer. As you know I can get turned on by intelligence, which is why I've never attempted to fuck you.."

"I thought it was because you didn't like asians."

"Yes, that too."

"Bitch."

I continued, dipping my fork into the refried beans and guacamole on my plate. "So, a little bit of conversation before always helps, especially if they are interested in me and my life and whatnot. I, of course, respond by asking them similar questions and gather a bit of information on their intelligence. Powerful men excite me, so the more interesting their job, the more I desire them."

"Basically, you fit into the classic ideal of a gold-digger." Phil said earnestly. I shrugged.

"That's not quite true, actually. I like sex and I like money, but it's not about either." I paused, expecting some sarcastic remark from my companion. Instead, he just sat there staring at me, expecting me to continue. So, I did. "I like the idea of control. I control where everything goes in the situation, bottom line. He hired me due to his desires, whatever they may be. I am there for a purpose, but I am not there to be controlled. I am under no contract and no liability. I have free range to do whatever I want sexually with them and there is absolutely nothing that they can do to get more out of me if I do not want it."

Philip was confused. I could tell by the way his almond-shaped eyes were slowly becoming distant and his face became complacent. "Okay," I began to explain, "let's say that I get a client call and he wants me to come over for a massage for an hour."

"Okay," Phil acknowledged.

"Now, he's obviously expecting a happy ending, and I am obliged to give it to him. However, upon getting there, I expect to be treated with respect. If I do not receive respect or if I feel uncomfortable with the man and the situation, I ask for the money up-front. This ensures that if things were to go downhill all will not be lost on my end. If he is polite and respectful, creates a calm and inviting atmosphere then I disregard the money up-front and instead ENJOY MYSELF. It's amazing what one can do when they are comfortable. If the client sees that he has succeeded in making me comfortable, he becomes more relaxed. Conversation begins, we get to know each other, and we go from there. I always maintain the sexual control, though. I do not do it in any mean way. In fact, I try to make it as sensual and exciting as possible, that way the control is favorable."

"Hmm." Philip chimed. He flipped out his sidekick again and began another lengthy text. "You sure make it sound easy."

"It's work, but enjoyable."

"You and your mysterious ways of thinking, Jonathan. I'm glad I'm not deep enough to delve into that mind of yours. Imagine the creepy stuff I'd find."

I smirked and continued eating the remainder of my dish in relative silence. Is the way I'm thinking about this creepy? Am I a bit too involved in this process, or am I just a little bit sick and twisted on the inside? I never thought I was. In fact, I thought I was just being realistic. It was better to sit and face things than to run from them. My mind was no different, was it?

We finished eating, paid the bill, and left the saucy little gay Silverlake mexican restaurant discussing mediocre things; topics that I was hardly interested in, but could feign some sort of detail due to my knowledge of current events and rapier-like wit. Philip's comment has ceased to bother me after I got to my apartment. Feeding my cat always alleviates such insecurities. I think it's the fact that she's so expecting and I am providing her with sustenance and that she is forever grateful to me for fulfilling my basic duties to her. Such a simple creature brings me such calm and warmth. I think that is why I like cats so much. You can never taint their innocence or disposition if you are only kind to them. I wish people were more like that. But, then again, if people were more like cats, what would make felines so interesting? I'd rather love my cat, personally. People, continue being douchebags!