Heaux Confessionals: The Jobs

~ CHAPTER V ~

Because love can’t pay the rent.

But lust?

Lust has been making ends meet for me in Berlin for months now. Not that I don’t have seven other jobs to juggle to try and make it all come together. But after getting fucked over at jobs in Berlin where I don’t get paid or where I get sexually harassed, I decided to cut out the middle man and make the money I need. I am not trying to get rich. I just want to eat. Berlin is a city where you take all the talents that you possess and figure out a way to hone those to survive.

And how did I get started in this? Of course you want to know. Everyone always does. It doesn’t matter that I am an artist and that you can see me in some show or some article at any given time here in Berlin. No, people always want to know about the sordid tales of prostitution and sex. One of my talents just so happens to be that I am an excellent fucker and there is really no need to deny the truth when it is staring me right in the face.

And how did I get started in this field?

My first weekend in Berlin was supposed to be just that, a weekend. But I fell for the city and decided to stay. After a few months, the company I did work for as a translator refused to pay me, a lawyer was necessary and she had to be paid. I had no shame. I did what I had to do. And like everything else that I do, I researched thoroughly before I threw my hat into the ring. I already knew I could have done it from the first day I moved to Germany. I am a walking fetish here and I get propositions all the time. If I really wanted to, there are plenty of German men that would be my Sugar Daddy. But I answer to no one. I do what I want to do when I want to do it. And although many of the black people here take that route, I have to far too much pride for that. No, the way I want things, they can have me…for the hour. Then, they have to go. The classic fuck and flee. And for those of you that think there is a lot of fucking going on, think again. Just the sight of me naked is sometimes enough for them to get off. It is not my fault they believe in the black mystique. Let them. It makes the time go by that much faster. Not that I could even complain, for my clients are some of the most intelligent, sincere, and sympathetic people you could ever meet.

Prices? Everyone wants to know that as well. What I charge is considered on the high end of the business...and I’m worth it. I have very few clients, and that is how I prefer it. The ones I do have are regulars, because they know quality when they see it. And I choose my clients, not the other way around. Black men are in short supply here. I’ve noticed. And my price reflects that. When approached, everything is laid on the table. And trust me; they are good-looking. They are rich. They are cultured. And so am I. That is what they prefer, and want. That is the intangible, those extra ingredients that make renting me worth it. And I call the shots. I say when. I say how. You’ve seen Pretty Woman.

And in Berlin, where there is no such thing as gay/straight, I am booked by husbands who want a black man to stud out their wife. Done. Or by a gay couple who need that extra spark. Ignited. Satisfaction guaranteed. And just what are they getting when they call me that they cannot usually get from those other black boys?

Well, not one to toot my horn (although I can, but more on that another time), I bring all these things to the table, and since my penis is not detachable, they must pay for everything that I come with. I know that some of them just want to see a black man. That is fine too, but that is no reason for anyone to think they are entitled to a special rate. When they call, the price that I am quoting encompasses all of those talents. If you do not take me up on them, that is entirely within your rights. Just as it is entirely within mine to set the bar this high and have it respected.

I am always working, whether you know it or not. When I am on the train, they remember my face. When I dance at that club, they remember my body. When I sing in that lounge, they remember my voice. Berlin is a city of million of people, but it can be as small as a baby pea. For I know that many know that I have this as a black market job. Indeed, everyone in Berlin has one of some kind. This just happens to be mine. And I am not ashamed, because at the end of the day, I look to no one to pay my bills or validate me as a person. That is all taken care of. No outside forces necessary.

And although my home may be Berlin, the truth of the matter is that most in Berlin cannot afford my services. The mayor of Berlin likes to advertise Berlin as ‘poor, but sexy’. Well, Mayor Wowereit is a goddamn lie. I have my own motto for Berlin.

Cheap and skanky.

Therefore, I travel quite frequently. I am requested the most in Belgium. And for those not in the know about Belgian culture, a quick overview. Belgians know quality. If you purchase anything from there, it is almost always of the best quality you can have. And me as an escort, it is no different. I never have to haggle with prices in Belgium. They realize I have certain prices for a reason. In Berlin, I get called and asked to barter as if this were early civilization. There are to be no compromises or concessions. And in Belgium, the question is never presented. And that agrees with me. And my clients are always respectful and courteous, as it should be. If it’s not fun for me, then it’s not fun for them, you see.

Let me tell you about one client in particular. Make that clients, because they are a Belgian couple made up of two very young, attractive guys. And it is not that they don’t love one another, for I can see it in their eyes and the way they move around me. No, they just want some additives and preservatives. A little spice…pepper to be exact. That is where I come in. Of all my clients, they call me the most. And when they call, I always come because I am guaranteed to have fun. They make sure of it.

I remember some years back when Linda Evangelista said she would not get out of bed for under a certain amount of money. Well, I don’t either, and there is a comma involved, just not as many. And just what do we do for my overnight stays in this village nestled outside of Brussels? Well, we fuck of course. I am not complaining because they are hot, and I would do it for free if circumstances were different. But we also discuss everything under the sun, we watch their wedding videos, and occasionally, one of their two dogs will jump into the midst of it all and lick one of us on the ass. Usually me, since mine is the most unfamiliar (I suppose).

And sleep is basically out of the question because when there are three asses, and three dicks, there are always bound to be tasks at hand…all six of those too. And the next day when I leave, I am so tired, I am out of service for at least two days, but it is always a good time had by all, and they always schedule again. Sometimes three times a month, but always at least once a month. I almost feel bad taking their money, but not really. I am shocked they call so much. It is more than the sex. We all know that. I add ambiance. I add spark to their overworked lives, which they desperately need. I know this and they admit it.

So without further adieu, here are the stories. This is only the introduction. I hope you were paying attention. Welcome to Heaux Confessionals.

There’s more later...

back the fuck up

my jurisdiction is beyond your reach

for I am President, CEO

the head of this CIA

the leader of this pack

the H.N.I.C.

and you muthafucka...

are impeached

“Fuck The Dow. Fuck NASDAQ. This stock? Never plummets!”

(Heaux Confessionals, verbal slap #31)