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I kept my hands on the couch. “I’m sorry. Genuinely. It won’t happen again.”
“I know it won’t,” Scarlett said, and her smile was perfectly friendly and perfectly empty.
She finished the half hour. She did everything she’d been doing before. Her tits in my face, her arse in my lap, her hair sliding across my chest. She ground on my cock until I was aching and leaking into my boxers, and she let out little breathy sounds in all the right places.
None of it was for me anymore.
I could feel the difference. Before, she’d been laughing, enjoying herself, pressing in close because she wanted to. Now every move was timed to the beat and every look was aimed at a point just past my left ear. It was a performance. A very, very good one.
The buzzer went. She stood up, hooked her bra back on, and checked her lipstick in the little mirror on the wall.
“Thanks, babe. Hope your week gets better.”
“Scarlett, can I…”
“I’m booked for the rest of the night,” she said, already holding the curtain. “Jade’s free, though, if you’re still in the mood.”
I wasn’t. I sat at the bar for twenty minutes, nursing a whisky I couldn’t afford, watching her laugh in another man’s lap. She never looked my way once.
I drove home with a hard-on that wouldn’t quit and the distinct feeling I’d paid two hundred quid to learn something about myself.
Ending 5 of 25: Cold Shoulder. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.