"So, how have you been, Otis?" She asked as he started his machine. She had come in early for her appointment, hoping Otis would be done with his previous client early. He had gotten her cleaned up and ready to go before she was supposed to have been there.
"Pretty great, to be honest. Have a family now. Good job. Things finally kinda...fell into place."
"You look happy."
"I am."
"I remember how sad you used to be. How scared. You...I wouldn't have recognized you if I hadn't known that walk."
"That walk comes from a 4 times broken pelvis."
"I know. I remember. I remember how terrified of the world you were, because you had been hurt so much. And I remember the day you stopped being afraid because you didn't care anymore. That day was...very scary."
Otis didn't respond, simply focused on his work. He didn't want to remember those days.
"You look fine as HELL, by the way."
He chuckled. "What do you mean?"
"God, I would bang you like a screen door in a hurricane. You look fucking delicious. You gained weight and you finally grew your hair long. You've got some muscle. And on top of that handsome face you always had? Fuck, Otis."
All he could do was laugh. He wasn't entirely sure how to receive the compliment. "You don't look so bad yourself. You haven't aged."
"Small wonder what prostituting yourself can do for the aging process, I suppose."
"Mm..."
"Have you gotten over a lot of your fears?"
"Which ones?"
"You know...The intimacy ones."
"Mm...Some of them. Not all. There's a lot to deal with..."
"I remember the first night we made love..."
"Dahlia..."
"You were terrified. You were in so much pain because a client had hurt your back. And I helped you. And you were petrified to let me touch you. So I offered to show you what sex should be like. That it doesn't always hurt."
"And I never forgot. And I became someone who is addicted to sex."
"You're not addicted to sex you're addicted to the feeling it gives you. The feeling of belonging to someone. Of someone caring about you. Even if it's for a short time."
Otis grumbled. "I always did hate it when you expanded my thoughts right in front of me. Like blowing up a balloon."
"So how long have you been here? In Ruggsville?"
"About 10 years, give or take. How about you?"
"I just moved here about a year ago. Surfing around, you know how it is."
"Not anymore, I don't. Do you still..."
"No. No not anymore. It became..."
"Too much."
"Yeah..." She paused, turning her head to be able to see him better. "When you say you have a family..."
"No. No kids. No wife. Too fucked up for that." He wiped the excess ink off of her back. "No, I meant uh...I got adopted, basically. Guy that runs Captain Spaulding's in town there. I started to work for him when I came here and then I got really sick so his family took me in and fixed me up. So then they let me stay. And I've been there ever since."
"I'm so happy for you! I know how much you just wanted to be loved...How much you needed affection..."
Otis internally cringed. The last thing he wanted was to be reminded of his past...And how much he hadn't changed. He cleared his throat. "So what're you here for, huh?"
"Oh, y'know. Lookin' for a job. This place is pretty close to a lot of big cities coming through so I thought I might give it a shot and see if I could get a job there and just commute, y'know?"
"Mm-hm. I still do the sculptures for Spaulding's. But I work here, instead. Kind of like that, I guess."
"I just...I can't get over you, Otis."
"Huh?"
"How good you look. I'm so happy you made it out. I...God I remember how bad you were. I honestly didn't think you would make it. You were so thin...So sick...So...SO fucking scared. Until you weren't scared anymore. And I think that was worse...You were so...depressed." She smiled over her shoulder. "And now look at you. A gorgeous young man with nothing but talent."
Otis glanced up from his work, his face reddening.
"You have a woman?"
"No."
"A man?"
Otis snorted. "I only slept with men because they paid me. I'm straight."
"So you're single."
"Mm-hm. What about you?"
"Yeah. Being a whore doesn't lend itself to maintaining a relationship."
"Nor does it lend itself to having emotional stability to initiate one..." He cleared his throat again. "My little sister, Baby we call her. She always asks me why I'm not lookin' why I'm not dating. She doesn't know."
"How old is she?"
"She's 20."
"How many times have you had sex with her, Otis?"
Otis paused, then murmuring. "A handful."
"I know Baby. She's Spaulding's daughter. Met her a few times. She's hot as fuck."
"Yeah...She's a little...aggressive in bed, though. Every time I'm fuckin' bleeding from some bite or something."
"You still have that shitty tattoo on your chest?"
Otis groaned. "Yes, for christ's sake."
"I would have thought you would have gotten that thing covered up years ago!"
"No. I'm afraid of making it worse."
"Aw, hon..."
"What's your motive, coming to find me?"
"What?"
"What do you want from me?"
"I just wanted to see you again. Make sure you were okay. Because the Otis I remember..."
"Is dead."
"No he's not. You may have chained him up and boxed him up and hidden him in a corner, but he's still there. I can see it in your eyes. And the way you carry yourself. You've grown. But you still want loved. And that's all you want."
Otis didn't respond.
"And now...Now I'm thinking maybe we could catch up. Maybe...We could spend some time together. Like old times."
"I don't have much money, if you're going to start that."
"No. I have my own. I wouldn't ask for that and you know that."
"Yeah...I know."
"So? What do you say?"
"Alright. I work about every day, but if I don't have clients I don't stay."
"Ok. Cool."
Otis finished the piece and watched her walk over to the mirror. She was beautiful, as she had always been. Still had that black hair. That belly ring. Still had that tight body.
"It's beautiful...It's perfect."
"Yeah?"
"Honey, you did such a good job...It's gorgeous."
"Glad you think so."
She smirked. "I know how I'm going to tip you."
"Mm?"
"Does the same thing get you that always got you?"
"Dahlia, I don't-" She sat in his lap, straddling him and pushing his hair to one side, beginning to kiss his neck. "Fuck..."
"Some things never change, huh?"
A low moan escaped his lips. "S...stop...s..."
"Honey, you know you don't want me to stop."
Otis growled in pleasure. She was right. His pants were becoming uncomfortably tight. She made quick work of pulling him through his zipper.
"You not wearin' any underwear today? You slutty boy..." She smirked, taking him into her mouth.
He gasped, immediately covering his mouth. If the shop manager had any idea...
God, she had lost no skill in the years gone by. He bit his fist, trying to stave off groans and moans, only letting a few escape before he couldn't hold it in any longer, and moaned loudly with an orgasm.
"You grew a little bit since you were 16, huh?"
Otis couldn't only whimper, letting his head flop against the head rest of his chair.
