And believe me, there are some really crazy ones around.

◊◊◊

I couldn’t quite understand, was it just me, or is there something wrong with this guy. No matter what I did, or tried to do, his dick still stayed flaccid. Maybe he was gay, and trying to get experience what it would be like with a woman.

As I bopped my head up and down rhythmically, my mouth over his lifeless shaft, I looked up at him; his face was towards the ceiling, his expression didn’t look anywhere near enthusiastic.

He put his hand over my head, “Ok, please stop,” he said finally, “I think I’m starting to chafe.”

I got onto my knees and smiled, “Is there something you’d like that I’m not doing?”

“No, no, it’s not you, it’s just…it’s ok. Anyway, my hour is up…”

“Please, don’t leave yet. What would you like? I won’t charge for a little extra time,” I said.

He got up and started to put on his pants, “It’s alright, Chloe, really, you were fine.”

He threw on his shirt and quickly buttoned it up as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“Thank you, this was nice,” he said, “Bye.”

I stayed on my bed, curling my legs under me. I looked at the now closed door with a quizzical expression. What had just happened? That was possibly the most unusual thing that had ever happened to me. I would have offered him his money back, but he had left in such a hurry that I didn’t even have a moment to inject a word in.

I lay back onto my bed, wrapping my comforter around me.

This really got to me.

I really hated it when I couldn’t complete the job.

◊◊◊

After mooching around for about an hour, I grabbed my cell and called Bette.

“What you up to?” I asked when she answered on the third ring.

“Well, my one of my colleagues is organizing some wild party next Friday and I’m in-charge of the food. The joy.”

I laughed, “It’s just food, Bette, I’m sure it’s not that difficult. What kinda party is it?”

“I’m not sure, but it’s a costume party. The theme is Masquerade.”

“Ooh, sound interesting,” I replied.

“Would you like to come?”

“No, it’s alright,” I declined because I was afraid I might have to work; Friday was always my busiest day, “But thanks for the invite, maybe next time?”

I heard Bette chuckle, “Working again?”

“Yes, you know all these crazy millionaire types. They want the inside of their houses to reflect their immense wealth. The walls have to be papered with gold.”

“Ah…”

“I could help you with the food though,” I offered.

“That would be great, I’ve actually got the day off tomorrow.”

“Great! We could do some research together, maybe head into town to do some tasting.”

“That sounds like a plan,” she replied, “I’ll see you tomorrow then. And don’t you dare forget about my Mom’s…”

“Yes, I know, her birthday this weekend. It’s only Tuesday, B. Someone needs to take that stick out of your ass.”

She laughed; I always liked the sound of Bette’s laughter.

“Sure, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I think I might have found something that I dare say I loved.

I loved spending time with Bette.