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A New York Escorts Confessions

A grabbed my hand and lead me in. Just inside he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Mmmm. Don’t you just love that?”

“What?”

“That. That office supply smell.”

I looked at him blankly. He stared back. “Well don’t you?”

“I actually hadn’t really thought about it.”

His eyes brightened. “Oh,” he said. “You gotta follow me”

First he lead me to the the whiteout. He waved it slowly under my nose. “Bluch.” I said jumping back.

“You’re kidding me, right? You really don’t like that?” A held it to his nose and breathed in deep. “Mmmm. I just can’t get enough of it”

Next he took me to the paper section. He looked both ways then boldly ripped a open a ream. His action startled me. It was so…weirdly dangerous and unpredictable somehow. “Go ‘head. This is the best. The house brand. 100% recycled too.”

I bent down to sniff. A grabbed my shoulders. “No. You really got to get close to it. Go all the way. Get right up against it, you see?” He began to push my head down.

“Wait. I don’t want to get a lipstick print—” A rolled his eyes dramatically. “Okay okay.”

I did as I was told. And while I’m sure I didn’t smell what he did, I kind of got it. The hint of it anyway. That newness—the same way some people get off on new cars. I was intrigued. “So what else do you like?”

That was all A needed. “Oh just wait right there. You’re not going to believe the smells they keep in here.

So while A strutted off to fetch God knows what, I was left to take in the scenery. Which of course wasn’t much. Staples is nothing if it’s not antiseptic. I couldn’t imagine actually having sex there. All those bright lights and scratchy carpeting and—And that was when I saw the Easy Buttons.

The Easy Buttons—you know. The actual buttons from the commercials. I picked one up and laughed to myself. Who was stupid enough to actually buy one of these? Before I could answer myself, I frisked one.

I opened the package under my coat away from where I thought the cameras might be. Then I set off to find some double-backed tape. And then to find A.

He was standing in aisle three with a fist full of highlighters, a printer cartridge, a packet of pencils, oversized chalk, and but of course, a box of staples. “Hey there supply guy,” I cooed seductively. “You want some of this?” I opened my coat to reveal that my pants were open. The Easy Button was taped to the front of my thong.

“Alexa. What are you doing? There are cameras…”

“Okay. If you don’t want to press it I’ll just—”

“No no!” A hurried over, looked both ways, then gently pushed the button. It gave a little squeak. We both laughed. Then he looked at me. “So what happens now?” His voice was breathy, expectant.

I juggled the supplies so that A held all of them in the crook of his right arm. Then I slowly unbuttoned his shirt.

“What? What are you going to do?”

I took the yellow highlighter and began to trace his nipple. Around. Around. Around. Slow and light, so light. “You like that?” I whispered softly into his ear.

“Like a…little…tongue.” I brought the highlighter to his nose. He began to softly moan.

“You know what I’m going to do now?”

“Uh uh.”

“I’m going to take the white out—”

“Uhhhh.”

I opened the bottle. “And I’m going to trace your nipple again.” I did as I said, then blew ever so gently on it. “You feel that? How it’s getting hard?”

“On my cock…I want it…on my cock.”

“What? You want it on your cock?”

“ON MY COCK!”

“‘Scuze me!!!!!!!!!”

A dropped all of his supplies and grabbed his shirt to pull it closed. I unfortunately wasn’t quick enough. The Easy Button poked out of my coat like I was the victim of a very very unfortunate tumor. We both looked down in shame at the feet of a very very angry stock boy.

“You gonna pay fo’ all that? Right? You gonna pay fo’ that”

And that is what you call getting caught. White-out handed.