(Feather's Pov)

Paul's grey eyes were cold and metallic, like diving into frigid Alaskan waters on an overcast day. His irises were lightly shaded with a smokey green hue that splintered between the fractured lines and colors.

Paul pondered with glimmering intrusiveness while he studied my lips. With each stroke, I felt dirty like the smog that seeped through the city pipelines.

He had a sad and disconnected smile that made me shiver. It reminded me of ashes and embers in a dying fire, dead and still in its chaos. I could tell he never wore his heart on his sleeve, it was in his ocean eyes, enfolded in the depth of his lonely coffin.

Paul grunted, closing his eyes. The pleasure left him on the ledge, as he gripped my bobbing head tightly.

My wet sultry lips continued to slide down his hard rod, as I teased his senses with my French tongue.

"Get up!" he snapped suddenly drawing my head up, towards his face.

I wiped my mouth, "what?" I asked confused.

His moods seemed to switch quicker than my thoughts.

Paul didn't say anything, he just zipped up his pants and leaned unsteadily against the wall of the truck. He glared at me as if he saw the devil.

His thick eyebrows formed the perfect arch, which drew attention to his roguishly precise cheekbones, and strong chiseled jaw. Danger had never looked more enticing.

"It's time to leave," he said pointing towards the door.

"You're sweating." I pointed out watching the beads trickle slowly down his glistening jaw.

His long eyelashes fluttered in annoyance as he rolled his eyes, "I'm sorry this spa doesn't have air conditioning" he said sarcastically.

Paul lifted up his shirt, to wipe the perspiration off the side of his face.

I looked away, afraid to stare at his body for too long. It was firm, hard, and defined. My gaze lingered on his abs. Those solid rippling indents chiseled into muscles like a torching sex symbol.

I squirmed, the gap between my thighs felt a new rush of heat.

Paul grabbed my arms, pulling me to the door angrily.

I couldn't help but wonder how someone could be so destructively handsome, hypnotically beautiful, and still exude this aura of insanity.

Down to my core, I knew I should run, but his blistered lips left me paralyzed.

"Hey, what's your name?" I randomly inquired.

"Dumbledore," he said sarcastically.

"I heard the cashier in the gas station call you Paul," I pointed out.

"Then why'd you ask?" he laughed opening the truck door and giving me a firm shove.

I blinked as the bright orange beams of natural sunlight directly touched my face,

"Do you sleep there?" I asked looking back at his truck.

Perhaps, I got a kick out of bothering a complete stranger, but something about him was magnetic. He was sin in the heat of summer.

His veins were ready to pop out of his forehead, as he gritted his teeth, "I sleep on the streets," he grumbled.

"Plus as far as the police know, this truck is abandoned. Prostitution is illegal, I can't bring more attention than necessary. You can't even imagine what will happen to me if I'm arrested." he added, a hint of vagueness in his deep low thundering voice.

I crossed my arms, "fine, I'll go but I'll see you tomorrow around the same time" I winked, walking away.

"Wwwhat?!" he choked.

"You're a prostitute, who needs customers. I'll be a regular, but next time we just talk" I said laying out the rules.

I watched his face frown as he looked at me confused, "listen here, perhaps you don't know how prostitution works, but let me explain. I give you my body to use as you please, and you give me cash" he grunted, "I don't want to talk" he said.

"Why? If I'm paying you then it shouldn't matter what I ask for? Unless you enjoy this job?" I hinted.

Paul looked as if I had slapped him in the face.

I backed away slowly. He had that look in his eyes like murder was just a fun past time.

Paul leaned into me slowly. His lips tickled my ear as he whispered, "I'm serious, this gamble you're taking will be your greatest pain," he mumbled.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked, confused by his riddles.

"Caring for me" he answered, kicking a pebble angrily.

Paul's eyes smoldered when he said the word "caring" like a shiny coin in the awakening flames of dawn.

I grabbed a fistful of his shirt, dragging him down towards me. Paul stumbled forward caught off guard, "By the way, if you ever touch me again, without my consent. I will call the police and make sure they know exactly where to find you." I threatened.

Paul smirked, prying my hands from his clothes, "whatever, angel" he shrugged.

"See you tomorrow then, bring cash! I charge double for talking " he said casually slamming the truck door in my face.

I walked away, the sun setting behind me, burning the pores on my back.

(Paul's Pov)
I regretted allowing that strange girl to buy water for me. Something about her kind demeanor bothered me. My usual clients were rough, ruthless, and treated me like trash. I was often physically and mentally abused in my line of work.

I couldn't stand the way Feather got under my skin. I didn't like the idea of going into business with her, but the need for money overthrew my morality.

"Stupid girl!" I cursed as I watched her petite figure walk away.

I would break her but that wasn't my issue to fix.

Yet I couldn't ignore her childlike innocence, that matched her long and shapeless body. She was mostly skin and bones, covered by a satin-olive like skin. Yet she was undeniably beautiful with her ambrosia lips, butterfly eyes, and honeybee smile.

When Feather held my penis in her mouth, I gasped. It was erotic and weirdly loving. It felt like she wanted to get to know me, from the inside out. She made a crude act less sexual.

It drove me insane to know that someone saw me better than I ever felt I deserved. I felt her high expectations reaching to me like a ladder and I didn't want to make the climb just to fall.

That's why I told her to stop.

I took another deep inhale as I cleaned up, getting ready for my next customer.

A loud knock broke my thoughts. I opened the door, it was an older man in his late fifties. He smelled of beer and shit. He grinned at me with yellow rotting teeth, as he swayed back and forth drunk.

"Bend over!" he bellowed throwing a few meaningless bills at me.

I sighed, as he grabbed my jaw, sticking his filthy tongue down my throat.

Nothing tasted more bitter than this life.

I flinched looking at the dirt beneath his nails, as he moaned in my mouth.

"You like this, you filthy little pervert, don't you?" he asked, panting like a dog in heat.

I closed my eyes. The world went numb, void, and blurred by the nothingness I felt. His voice was drowned out by the icecaps crystallizing in my soul. There was a poeticness to the silence, it was bittersweet- especially when you are barely a breath above living.

No one knew where to find my brokenness, because the splinters were such fine pieces. Humanity left my chipped bones at the altar, praying that something would save my soul. Yet no one prayed to protect my heart, mind or body.

So, I did what I had to, to live, to survive. I got on my knees to worship, a God I didn't believe in.

I became more machine than man, methodically pulling down my boxers, as I bent over.

I got a glimpse of the sun when Feather left. It looked wearily at the world from afar off-distance hiding behind the mountain. The day was long and leisure, hard and rough, but nothing could penetrate a hope, and love I didn't have.

He mounted me, waves of electrifying spasms. I was crushed by his brute force, just a slave to an animal.

He swallowed the guilty pleasure of my lows and highs. His iniquitous hands took my innocence and tasted the salt between my caverned shores.

My body was subjected to his distorted prisms. He screamed out strange names, begging for me to fuck him; "amour!" he sang to me.

Idioms in a clear blue sky, paradise in my bleeding hands. His eyes rolled back as he grinned, and my lips guided him to a syrupy heaven.

Like tickling feathers, I made him feel good, light and airy. My hands sifted through dark places, touching and groping. Until he reached the heights of euphoria, and his erected instrument quivered in my bow.

He put back on his clothes to cover up the shame. They always do. Then he picked up the money he threw at me and divided it in half.

People take and they take; love in a ramming cage; black & blue contusions.

"That wasn't worth the thirty I gave you!" He complained, slapping me across the face.

I laughed, "I made you cum didn't I?"

My state of mind was comatose and callous as I watched him leave, wishing him nothing but hell.

We were all monsters of men, phantoms of thoughts, and whimpers of horny ethos.

Like spilled seeds on dry land,

I had no fruits to cherish.

                 This is Paul.

Song: Oh Wonder- "All We do"
Authors Note: For those of you wondering what the hell did I just read? It's was a very explicit sex scene, that was both crude and upsetting. So out of sensitivity and respect to everyone I tried not to be so graphic.