Bodacious Blonde Pamela
Available 7/16 - 8/5
Height: 5'6”
Weight: 120 pounds
Blonde Hair
Brown Eyes
Measurements: 36D-24-36
Age: 30 (birthdate: Jan. 5, 1988)
Hello loves! My name is Pamela and I was born in Pennsylvania but raised by the surf in Miami, Florida. Currently located in Flagstone, Nevada, I’m working at Happy Ending Ranch as a luxury companion and taking grad school courses online in Psychology with the goal of one day becoming a Nurse Practitioner.
I'm a certified nut when it comes to yoga and daily exercise, and preach a healthy, vegan lifestyle. I love nature, vineyard tours, traveling the world, going to day spas, and being pampered. I have an affinity for bright, girly colors and all things that sparkle.
I am super sensual and way too comfortable in my own skin. Are you a little nervous? Don’t worry, my easygoing, chill personality will have you relaxed in no time flat.
I crave intimacy in all forms and love that this job provides me the chance to let you feel at ease being you. Got a freaky fetish? Want to try something you think may be a little weird to inquire about? I’m your girl! I embrace the “weird” and there probably isn’t anything I haven’t tried at least once. My goal is to make you comfortable enough to tell me your darkest desires so we can make your fantasy our reality. Rest assured, your secrets are safe with me, and I never judge.
I enjoy the sultry touch of a woman as well as the firm grasp of a gentleman. I am pansexual in my private life, often have giggly threesomes with my coworkers in our downtime and find intense joy entertaining a couple in my bedroom and helping them connect on a deeper level.
Every person is special and important, so things such as gender, weight/body type, age, and disability don't in any way impact my willingness to book a party with you. Are you introverted or suffer from a physical disorder? Did you go through a horrible breakup and now find yourself struggling to reenter the dating scene? Or are you, for whatever reason, not satisfied at home and want to try something new and exciting?
Please, allow me the opportunity to provide you the experience of a lifetime. I love the eroticism of the human body. I am compassionate and understanding; I care about your time with me and want to make sure you leave Happy Ending Ranch with awesome memories and no regrets!
My specialty is counseling and deflowering adult virgins. With an open mind and heart, I tend to captivate and would consider it an honor to share such a momentous occasion with you. I know losing your virginity can be nerve-wracking, yet my happiness comes from your comfort and satisfaction. I love to be gentle and caress but can also be aggressive and take control if that's your preference.
Overnights are fun too! I am a cuddle bug and promise to fall asleep with my head on your shoulder.
If you'd like to set up an appointment or just say hi, send me an e-mail via the link below. Or call our booking office at 775-555-0105 to schedule our all-inclusive date.
And know when you arrive, I'll be ready and waiting for you in my bed.
XOXO
Love, Pamela
*
Oh, sweet Jesus! I didn’t know there were pictures online of you too! Buck naked in his hotel room south of the Las Vegas Strip in Henderson, Charlie Winters frigged his dick with wild fury as he stared at the laptop monitor in front of him. Oh Pamela. Oh Pamela … I love you!
“You want to fuck me now, baby?” Pamela asked Charlie several hours ago after taking his cock so deep into her throat he was on the brink of madness. She rode him reverse-cowgirl next, bouncing and facing away, giving him free rein to grope her ass as the slick, slapping sounds of sex mixed with his cries of helpless pleasure.
I wanna rescue you from your life as a prostitute, sweetheart, and take you back to Detroit with me. You’re so much better than this. You know that, right? Why should Pamela belittle herself by having sex with every man who showed up at the ranch? None of those guys love you like I do. The thought of Pamela’s job and what she had to endure disgusted Charlie. They don’t care about you one bit. They just want to use you and get their rocks off.
Me? I wanna marry you and give you the type of life and financial security you deserve. Charlie’s sensibilities had tumbled off the deep end after saying goodbye to Pamela late this afternoon. You’ll no longer need to degrade and sell yourself like this. I’m going to take care of you from this point forward.
But now, for starters, I have pictures of you! Oh, man. Charlie stared longingly at the focus of his new obsession.
Pamela’s round, tight bottom bounced atop his thighs earlier as the velvet depths of her pussy flexed around his dick and ushered him to the edge of paradise. Breathless, Charlie stared in awe at the sight of his shaft in her pink orifice and experienced a pleasure greater than he ever imagined. He held her hips and roared out a shuddering climax before Pamela hopped off his pelvis and stroked his cock with both hands until it was tapped out.
Fuuuuuck … I loved playing with those massive titties too! Charlie wanted to mash his face between Pamela’s bra busters and become forever lost in them. I wanna suck the milk out of them once I get her pregnant!
After a round of snuggling and small talk, Charlie again fucked Pamela at great length and with unquenchable ardor. Yet his body couldn’t keep up as he lacked the cardiovascular conditioning, the stamina, to continue thrusting. My back gave out on me. Pamela had Charlie lay still and rest as she knelt on the mattress and offered a slow, sensuous blowjob. Her mouth could be the solution to world peace!
Back in the present time, Charlie clicked on another photograph of Pamela from Happy Ending Ranch’s website and salivated.
Seventeen pics decorated her profile, eight of which were nudes. Time to raid the site and download anything with Pamela in it. He couldn’t decide which pictures were best suited to be the wallpaper and lock screen on his cell phone, but he had several options. I should have asked Pamela for a couple of selfies of us together when I had the chance. She wouldn’t have said no to me – not a chance.
Charlie was employed as a logistics analyst for one of the major automobile companies based in Michigan and was on the shortlist of candidates for the next major promotion. I’d give up my job for Pamela if she wanted me to. He was ready to drop everything and move to Nevada so the two of them could be together. Or Florida, I don’t care. Finding a new job wouldn’t be an issue, even if it meant less pay and starting over at the bottom.
Still stroking his dick, memories from hours ago again filled his mind.
Once he regained his energy, Charlie pressed Pamela against the wall, her legs wrapped around his waist as he gripped her ass, and clumsily fucked away. Wet and sticky, and her hair a catastrophe, Pamela was a sight to behold.
Oh Pamela. Oh Pamela. Oh my God. Charlie was near his breaking point in the hotel as his favorite vision of all reappeared: “Do you, Charles Elliot Winters, of your own free will, choose to marry Pamela on this day, to join with her as husband and wife for all the days of your life?”
“I do.”
Oh baby. Oh baby. Is that from your bedroom back home in Florida? He clicked on another photograph, this one of Pamela wearing white lingerie and posing on the bed. Oh, fuck me. I need to be with you again. I need your naked flesh against mine. I wanna hold and kiss and cherish you from now until the end of time. I wanna bend you over and feel your …
Grunting in ecstasy, Charlie came over his hand.
<> <> <> <> <>
The way Sammy saw it, few things on Earth were more pleasurable than a blowjob, moist and lustrous, being delivered by an honest-to-goodness professional. “Just keep sucking, Kayleigh. You’re so sexy. So, so sexy.” No bullshit strings or expectations came with it, no games, and best of all, no drama. Sammy didn’t have to worry about getting bitched at and denied his rightful pleasure if he forgot to take out the trash (again). He loved the submissive act of a beguiling young woman kneeling before him, stroking his dick from root to tip, and slicking her mouth over it as if her life depended on it.
All the while getting paid top dollar to do so. That was key. Sammy was more than happy to compensate a hard-working prostitute for her time and effort. White, Black, Latino, Asian, Filipina, Vietnamese and on down the list, Sammy didn’t discriminate. He never had. Nor did he regret a single dime spent partaking in his favorite hobby over the past thirty-nine years. Sammy’s compulsive, insatiable need for sex and the many avenues available in which to purchase it made him think of women as “material”. Hooking up with a prostitute was a transaction between merchant and seller, nothing more.
We’re living in the age of instant coffee, instant food. This is instant sex.
I consider it sport fucking.
“Aww, there you go, sweetie. Oh, yes … like that.”
When he arrived at the brothel earlier this evening, Sammy fancied spending time with Lindsay, and now this irresistible blend of cute and naughty was his. Had he been in the mood for an exotic import with beige skin and charcoal-black hair, Kenzie would’ve been eager to invite him into her bed. Or if he wanted to enjoy both ladies together, well, Colt or Jim could have arranged that too. Who says money can’t buy happiness? I could fuck any broad in this house I want. It was oversized value for the price.
Later, Sammy would walk out the door and return to his everyday life as a husband, father, grandfather, and business magnate. Physically, emotionally, he’d be free.
To him, sex was cheaper this way. With a wife and kids, you’re obligated to feed, clean, and clothe them. There are too many issues, so much to deal with. Arguments, medical bills, trips to visit family members I could give a flying fuck about. It’s just not worth it.
“I know this is new to you, Kayleigh, and you’re doing an excellent job for sucking such a big dick, okay?”
“Mmm-hmm. Thank you, sir.” Lindsay glanced Sammy’s way and struggled to see beyond the hairs of his lap as her head bobbed up and down, his cock invading her mouth until it clashed against the back of her throat and receding until only the head remained between her lips.
Before her exciting new life in Nevada became a reality, Lindsay read countless articles on how to give a proper blowjob. One that stuck with her suggested a high level of animalistic and unbridled enthusiasm. Pay attention to how the man’s dick behaved, it said, and don’t ask for a progress report. If the dick jumped and throbbed, it’s happy. If it oozed pre-cum, it’s thrilled. Use spit in excess, use your mouth, hands, even your breath, and don’t be afraid to push your limits.
Applying these techniques caused Lindsay’s eyes to tear up and the hinge of her jaw to ache, but the discomfort proved worth it when Sammy first snatched her hair and neck an hour ago and began thumping away like a maniac on steroids. Lindsay figured she had to be doing something right, at least, and loved providing pleasure for Sammy after he’d spent his hard-earned money on her.
Somehow, that meant everything to her.
“I know you know how to suck a dick, okay?”
“Mmm-hmm,” she repeated, moaning.
“You’re a woman and being subservient like this is hard-wired into your DNA. It’s in your nature. But be quiet when you’re sucking my dick, all right?”
Lindsay pulled back and spoke with a timid whisper, “Okay.”
“You make too much fuckin’ noise, and I don’t like it. It’s too damn distracting.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Are you?”
“Yeah.”
“You know what? Don’t apologize to me, you little brat. Apologize to my dick.”
“I’m sorry.” She swiped her tongue over its head.
As the most notorious and well-known whoremonger in the LPIN community, Sammy had received tens of thousands of blowjobs by so-called “ladies of the night” who enjoyed giving them as much as he loved getting them. This man was a true industry legend. I’ve spent over two million dollars combined at these cursed houses, maybe even three. He always checked his emotions at the door, had controversial opinions and views, and wasn’t afraid to verbally decimate a prostitute if he believed he wasn’t getting his money’s worth.
Sure, several over the years did this act clinically for him, almost robotically, with a false façade of joy and eagerness, and Sammy understood their sole motivation was the money and they may, in fact, secretly despise him and the wicked things he made them do.
Sammy was okay with that. Like I give two shits what most of these chicks think or feel anyway. I just want them to do their fucking job and satisfy me. He still admired every one of them, regardless, and understood no matter the method or level of sincerity they had in earning it, it was important that, at the end of the day, they had enough money to pay their bills and put food on the table.
Or support their drug habit.
“All right. Now just keep suckin’, darlin’. I’ll tell you when to stop. Be a good girl; relax your throat and take more of me in, okay? Do as I tell you.”
“Yes sir.”
Lindsay Anastacio was experimenting and growing bolder before Sammy’s eyes. He enjoyed it when she squeezed his cock hard and sucked gently. Or sucked with reckless abandon and stroked lightly. She tried to swallow him as far as possible earlier, even deep-throat him, but that proved far more difficult than she expected, and the poor girl couldn’t breathe and gagged.
“You like suckin’ that dick.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Yeah, yeah. Keep suckin’ that dick. Aww, yeah.” If Sammy’s smile became any wider, he’d resemble the Joker. “You know what fuckin’ turns me on more than anything, babygirl?”
“Huh?” She moved back, curious, still flicking at his length with her tongue. “What turns you on more than anything?” She kissed his balls.
“The thought of you suckin’ dick.” Sammy once again forced himself into that sweet receptacle, and this time held Lindsay’s head in place. “I like the idea of you suckin’ a bunch of guys’ dicks. Are you gonna do that while you’re here?” His grip loosened. “You gonna suck every dick you come across and get paid for it like you should?”
“I hope so.”
Sammy withdrew himself without a warning, gathered a heavy clump of Lindsay’s hair and pulled, and dragged her up and off her knees. The unexpected pressure sent shock waves to her nerve endings, however Sammy used his opposite hand to latch onto her neck to help mitigate the pull. And nothing could have prepared Lindsay for such a quick, rough manhandling, and the intense rush of forcibly being tossed atop the bed like an inanimate object.
She was splayed out beneath him with one knee up and a finger stroking her mouth like the sultry vixen he was helping her transition into.
“Do you really love suckin’ dick?”
“I really love sucking cock.”
“Be honest with me.”
“I am! It’s my favorite thing in the world to do.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” By now, Lindsay’s other hand was between her thighs, and she was stimulating herself.
“Do you love suckin’ stranger’s dicks?”
Her brows wagged. “I love sucking stranger’s dicks.”
“Don’t fuck with me. I don’t wanna hear no bullshit.”
“No! I’m not lying. You may be my first stranger, but your dick was like … the prize at the bottom of the cereal box. I want more. Lots more.” Rapid blinking led to wide-eyed discovery. “I swear to you: I’m looking forward to being with other guys, other strangers.” Lindsay’s probing finger picked up speed and rubbed frantically. “Why else would I be here right now, working in a brothel?” Her breathing hitched.
“Would you be willing to take two dicks at once?”
“Yeah.” The twinkle in her eyes spelled mischief. “I’d like to have one in my hand and one down my throat … and go back and forth between the two.” She made quick ducking motions to either side with her head and giggled. “I’ve fantasized about that happening a lot over the years. It always makes me wet.”
Hmm, I’ll have to see about making it a reality one day. I bet you could handle four or five dicks with ease.
Sammy took a seat and motioned toward his lap. “Come on, Kayleigh, on your knees again, right here. I want my dick back where it belongs until I say otherwise.”
“Yes sir.”
Lindsay was proving to be quite the luxurious pay-for-pleasure companion. Her endearing innocence and fierce curiosity, everything about her, made her touch, whether with her mouth, hands, or body, something else. This chick is going places. If I were her, I’d sign with a high-end porn studio and pump out scene after scene.
The right company would make her a star – a superstar – perhaps the most notorious the adult industry had ever produced. She’d be an industry unto herself, famous for being famous. Kayleigh could travel the country, even the globe, and charge fans five to ten grand an hour to fuck them.
However, Sammy didn’t want such worldwide notoriety for Lindsay. Not yet anyway. His vision was simpler and hit much closer to home.
Sammy contemplated the possibilities as she once again assumed the position on her knees, and his hands found her hair. I don’t get attached to whores on a personal level. Not anymore. That’s a road I refuse to travel down, and a recipe for disaster. He threaded his fingers into Lindsay’s blonde locks and held on. He could keep her at bay if he desired or reel her close to his dick. It was his decision, and his alone. I paid for this time. I’m the boss, and she belongs to me until ten o’clock tonight. The wet, muffled sounds Lindsay made as she again offered her oral blessings were music to his ears.
God, she’s stunning. Sammy couldn’t believe how reactive Lindsay was either. Look at those eyes and that sweet-cheeks face! How eager she was to please, to satisfy, to obey. He wanted to be the boss of this girl from now on – her pleasure, her pain, her joy, her laughter, her smile. Everything. Sammy settled on the bed’s edge and allowed himself to slide further down the rabbit hole of everything Lindsay embodied, all she offered, as she now practiced and one day may perfect a talent that would take her as far as she wanted it to in life.
“It would be epic if I could have a cock and balls in my mouth at the same time.”
“You fucking whore.” Lindsay’s mouth was like a wet vacuum on overload as Sammy glared down at her, silken and hot. “You’re Master’s filthy little cock whore.”
“Having it all the way down my throat and licking on your balls at the same time. You know I’d do that all night if you let me, right?” Lindsay jacked Sammy’s cock at the base and slid her mouth over its tip. “You work hard all week at your job and deserve to have your dick sucked. I don’t know why your wife doesn’t enjoy doing this for you. I dunno, sir. If I were her, I’d be waiting on my knees every night when you arrived home from work.”
“Stop talking. Just keep sucking.” You’re an absolute doll, but I don’t need you mentioning Barbara. I don’t want to think about her. She’s going to castrate me once I make it home later and fess up about all the money I’ve spent at the ranch tonight.
Sammy had visions of Lindsay stretched out on the bed in his favorite hotel room, a lavish penthouse suite across from the Salt Lake City International Airport, her wrists shackled, her ankles restrained. A blindfold. A ball gag. An enormous stack of one hundred-dollar bills on the nightstand. Her rightful compensation. Oh, the things Sammy could do, the liberties he could take.
He’d thrash Lindsay’s ass with his cat ‘o nine tails, his preferred instrument of destruction, and paint her skin a fiery shade of red. Lindsay would be a trembling mess of tears, bound and punished, no matter whether she deserved the whipping or not. Her body would be mine to use whatever way I wanted. The gag would come off, but Sammy would plug her mouth right back up with his dick. Bareback, of course; no condoms like these lame houses require. After a hard face-fucking, deep and thorough and satisfying, Sammy would offer to add another five hundred dollars to Lindsay’s already substantial gift. I want to fuck your ass, darlin’, and come in it.
“Holy shit!” The imagery alone made him gasp. Being as close to Lindsay as he was now, with her performing fellatio on her knees, but not being able to enjoy her the way he wanted to almost did him in. Sammy yearned to flat-out seize this prime, young filly, collar and claim her as his property, and fuck her with no house or government restrictions getting in the way.
Barbara may know I visit the brothels, but she has no clue I have my share of sugar babies on the side too.
“Move your hair! Move your hair, pretty girl – there we go. Eyes open. Oh, yeah. I love it. Keep suckin’ that dick, and I may tip you another fifty-dollar gift card.”
“I’d like that, sir.”
As I party more with Kayleigh over time and earn her trust, perhaps she’ll agree to meet me off the books for a night, maybe a weekend, in Salt Lake City. Would Lindsay be open to such an arrangement? I’ll double, even triple, what she’d receive here after the house fees to get her to say yes if that’s what it takes.
Sammy would handle any airline or travel fees, too, treat her to meals at five-star restaurants, tour the city, shower her with expensive gifts and jewelry, and then indulge his hardcore passions in the privacy of their hotel suite. I have no doubt this chick is submissive and needs a legitimate, hardcore fucking. I can’t give it to her now. Not the type she needs, at least, but I could elsewhere.
Though paying for sex outside the confines of a Nevada brothel was illegal and punishable by time spent in prison, it was nothing Sammy hadn’t done multiple times in the past with other girls. Hundreds of girls! The possibility of getting caught by the authorities didn’t register as a blip on the radar to him. Gotta be smart – discreet, selective, and keep a low profile.
His favorite prostitute from Happy Ending Ranch was, without question, Scarlett. Well, until tonight came along, at least. That redhead is a kinky, nasty slut, and quite a handful. She’s got a mouth that could suck a golf ball through a garden hose! But Lindsay had potential, a far higher ceiling. Not only was she the most electrifying girl he’d ever been with, bar none, but also the most responsive.
The possibilities were limitless.
Sammy theorized Lindsay was too green at this stage, too naïve to understand the way the process worked, but over half the girls in brothels would go the extra mile with a monger if there was enough trust and the price was right. Being offered a large sum of cash and not having to split it fifty/fifty with the house was too difficult to pass up. Most girls wouldn’t report it on their taxes, either, meaning they’d keep one hundred percent of the agreed-upon fee and use it whatever way they deemed necessary.
One day, I’ll make Kayleigh an offer she can’t refuse. His motivation for taking such a risk that may ruin life as he knew it was simple: Big Brother isn’t listening or watching on surveillance, waiting for one wrong word to be said that would land both provider and client in trouble. Middlemen like Colt McCarron wouldn’t siphon fifty percent of the proceeds these girls worked so hard for either. Colt is a decent guy, but he doesn’t deserve any of my money. I rather everything goes to the ladies.
Most of all, the lone rules in these illegal, off-the-books parties were the rules set between two consenting adults, not the state of Nevada or the local municipality, and not some uptight house where the owner was scared to death of losing his business license if a girl wanted to “go the extra mile” for a client like give a bareback blowjob.
Or take it in the ass.
This industry has been so conditioned since the AIDS epidemic some thirty or thirty-five years ago, and because of it, visiting a brothel isn’t near as fun as it once was. God, I’ve never had an issue. But with the way things are nowadays, some of these chicks are even afraid to kiss their customers! How fucking pathetic!
Lindsay’s blue eyes were now watershed, her mascara smeared. She was a captivating mess, obscene and breathless, as she pulled back and stared at Sammy with a line of drool dangling from her chin. “I wish I could swallow your cum and choke on it!”
Boy, oh, boy. With eyes like those gazing back at him for the next two hours, how was Sammy not going to break his cardinal rule, his own personal mandate, for LPIN and sex outside his marriage?
Fucking hell, man. I’ve already fallen hard for this whore. How could he allow this to happen? We just met! And Godfuckingdammit, I want much more from her than a standard pay-and-fuck in Salt Lake City too. …
*
“Twelve hundred and sixty dollars.” Colt swiped Sammy’s credit card and waited for it to process in the mobile reader. Once approved, he handed it back to Pamela. “That’s a lot of money, but I know Kayleigh will be worth it.” He shot his wife a sidelong glance. “Are you sure you’re up to working tonight too?”
Pamela avoided his gaze and folded her arms with a scowl. They were in Colt’s office in the westernmost area of the house, once again ready to set aside their sacred marriage vows in favor of making a quick buck. “Haven’t we been through this already?”
“We have.” Colt closed the distance and encircled his arms around her from behind. The tantalizing aroma of Pamela’s perfume drifted over him, reawakening memories of their recent vacation when it was just the two of them. No guys like Charlie were around to swoop in and steal you away when all I really want right now is for us to have a few hours alone.
Was that too much to ask for?
Pamela wore a bubble-gum-pink dress laden with rhinestones, its hem cut incredibly short, featuring a crewneck with long, skintight sleeves that accentuated her considerable, up-top assets. Her legs were bare except for Valentino Rockstud leather pumps, sleek and toned and sexy as hell. This was her fourth outfit of the day, but the night was still young, so plenty more would follow. Her hair was down, center-parted with smooth, tight waves to the edges, and had a retro cat-eye with waterproof mascara.
“I don’t know. You’ve seemed … off … this week since we returned from Bora Bora.” His eyebrows drew together. “And I can tell your back is bothering you. You should take the night off and relax.”
“God, Colt, will you stop?” Pamela wiggled free from his grasp, frustration and disdain wrapped up in her voice. “My back is fine! Why do you sometimes gotta talk to me like I’m a ninety-year-old woman in traction? I know it’s not your intent, but it comes across as insulting!” It took all Pamela’s self-constraint not to cut loose and put him on blast. “I’m young, healthy, athletic, and have never been in better shape.”
“I worry about you.”
“Stop worrying about me!” In recent months, Colt had become more and more outspoken when it came to Pamela’s physical wellbeing. She couldn’t understand why when he barely raised such concerns during her initial decade-plus on the job. Where was it coming from? It was irrational, delusional, and needed to stop.
“I know there’s something wrong with your back.”
More rage mounted, however this wasn’t the time to hash things out. “I have to take Sammy’s credit card back to him so he can enjoy the rest of his party with Kayleigh.” She snatched the receipt from Colt’s hand. “You and I are gonna have a talk about this later tonight, buster. I’m a big girl and can take care of myself. Nothing is wrong with me. How dare you insist otherwise.” Pamela gnawed on her bottom lip to stifle her emotions. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m taking this to Sammy, and then I am going to wait at the bar and try to snatch the next customer who walks into the house.”
Colt trembled and bit his tongue as Pamela stormed away, high heels a-clanking. The woman was so damn stubborn it made his blood boil. After twelve years of tending to client after client after client, Colt feared Pamela’s body was nearing the point of no return. This job is brutal, and a person can only take so much. He rocked back and forth. No amount of money is worth permanent damage.
Normally, Colt would’ve trusted Pamela and her word when she insisted nothing was wrong. He’d always trusted her, and indeed, she was in outstanding physical condition, having dedicated herself to physical fitness and healthy eating habits over the previous decade.
But he had his grounds for concern and watching Pamela limp out of the office a few seconds ago while favoring the small of her back did nothing but add to them.
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“I don’t care that Pamela is a prostitute and having sex with others, being with them, is how she earns her living. I’m sure she has her reasons, and to me, there’s nothing wrong with it. Call me crazy if you want, Tracie, but I know this girl likes me. I could tell by the things she said, the way she acted, and how she looked at me. I know she felt something … I know it!”
On the opposite end of the telephone line, Charlie’s older sister – his confidant and one trusted source in life – wasn’t convinced. “Seeing guys and making them happy is her job, Charlie. Don’t you understand that? It’s what she does. You get these ideas, these flights of fancy in your head, but they’re not feasible. How long did you say she’s worked at that place again?”
“Twelve years.”
“Think of how many guys she’s been with in those twelve years. Think about it, okay? Meeting a hooker and wanting to run off with her and start a whole new life the very same day is not feasible. It’s not realistic.” Her voice was strong, impassioned. “I know you don’t want to hear this, Charlie, but as your sister and someone who loves you, I’m compelled to say it: you paid for your time, and now she’s on to the next guy.”
“She may very well be, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t feel something for me too. Her job is a vicious cycle, and she needs someone to help pull her away from it.” Seated in his rental car at a gas station in the Coyote Springs, Nevada, Charlie was enjoying two hot dogs and a super-sized soda. It wasn’t the healthiest dinner but tasted appetizing to a hungry man. Besides, alternatives were few and far between out here in the desert. “I don’t know, Tracie. I had such a great time with Pamela – the time of my life.”
“And I’m glad you did. I really am.” Tracie was being sincere. She had always stood by Charlie’s side whenever he needed her. Tracie didn’t always agree with his ideas, but still supported him, no matter what.
“I love this girl.” Charlie got a squirmy feeling in his gut. “But I know you think I’ve lost it.”
“No, I think you had a wonderful, life-altering experience earlier, and you’re not thinking logically. You’re lonely, Charlie, and I know still being a virgin at your age weighed you down in recent years. I know it did, but now, you can breathe easy. It’s over and done with. Why don’t you come home and seek out a good, clean girl?” Tracie drew a sharp breath. “How do you … do you even know if her real name is Pamela?”
“Yes, it is. She told me it is. I believe her.”
“Girls in her line of work don’t use their real names.”
“I believe her. Pamela wouldn’t lie to me. As for being good and clean, Pamela is that, too, and so much more. She’s the sweetest, most downhome girl I’ve ever met.”
“Charlie, she has sex with random strangers in exchange for money! Think about that for a moment, okay?”
Talking to his sister about this and sharing his plans of losing his virginity at a Nevada brothel before leaving for his vacation wasn’t ideal, however Tracie was the only person Charlie was comfortable trusting with such intimate, personal information. Unlike his two younger brothers or colleagues at work, Tracie would never betray his trust and blab to others.
Still, having this discussion was difficult. Tracie didn’t want any specific play-by-play details, of course, but Charlie had no shame speaking to her about losing his virginity. It was therapeutic. Rather, the problem was, at least in his mind, she didn’t understand.
How could she? Tracie had recently celebrated her fortieth birthday, had a husband who worshipped the ground she walked on, and three young children. Her life was the definition of happiness. The exact opposite of mine.
I know Tracie tries her best to understand, but she has no idea what it’s like to walk in my shoes. Whereas she was talkative and outgoing, Charlie was a recluse. Tracie had 345 friends on Facebook. Charlie had four, and she was one of them. I bet she is friends with every single one of them in real life too. While she was the life of the party, Charlie had always been on the outside looking in. She doesn’t know what it’s like to be alone and so depressed that oftentimes you think killing yourself is the only option.
“If I’m wrong, I’m wrong, but I think I’d be making the biggest mistake of my life if I don’t go back and spend time with Pamela again. I love her and believe she can grow to love me too.” Charlie glanced out beyond the gas station and to the dusty sign on the side of the highway.
Flagstone: 121 miles
“I’m going to splurge big-time and stay the whole night with her.”
(End of Chapter Six - to be continued)
