I gripped the bedsheet when he pushed in deep to finish inside me with a loud grunt. He then smacked my ass and placed a 20 next to me head. I turned around to get dressed again as he gushed about how amazing my ass was and asked how a prostitute could stay so tight. He was Underworld but at least he paid, must be my reputation I assumed. So many Underworld scum refused to pay their sex workers. I know that's a stereotype but if you're a pushover then it's more of a reality.
I smirked and said it was my natural tightness as I redonned my jean shorts that barely covered my ass cheeks and pocketed the tattered but still valuable note with a likeness to a long dead monarch printed on it. I then put my thin black Tshirt back on followed by my knee high boots to complete my outfit which also consisted of fishnet stocking with many of the holes too big and a black leather choker. My clients always told me I gave off a rough vibe and that I must like it rough. Well if you pay you can be as rough as you want, it only costs 20 per night in the hotel I practically lived in, one perk of which was that it had running water.
A rare commodity after the world went to shit, but that's how I came to choose sex work, it was a good way to make money for an effeminate boy such as myself and way better than breaking my back labouring 10 hours a day. It seemed only 2 things kept their value after the fabled "society" ended, sex and money.
I grabbed my satchel bag and thanked my most recent client and exited his flat, this has been my routine for 3 years since not long after I turned 18 and needed to find work. Not that it was a bad job, I rather enjoyed having sex multiple times a day.
I descended the stairway to the road and passed two guards, they paid no attention to me. While they were on shift at least. I had no worries about being arrested by them as a lot of them were clients of mine. They were just as rough with me as the Underworld lot but they paid so I wouldn't grass them up to the Higher-ups.