CH 5: A Proposal

The door handle was cold under Lila’s fingers as she pulled it open, stepping into the car without hesitation. The inside was clean, sleek—leather seats, tinted windows, a dashboard that glowed softly with blue neon. A ride like this wasn’t cheap. This guy had money.

She settled into the seat, the leather cool against her skin, and pulled the door shut with a quiet thud. The man in the driver’s seat wasn’t looking at her at first, his fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel. But as soon as she was in, he turned, offering a small, almost cautious smile.

“There she is,” he said, his voice warm, friendly. “Get comfortable.”

Lila fastened her seatbelt, shifting slightly as she took in the quiet hum of the car. It felt almost surreal after spending hours inside the neon haze of Pleazure Express, in rooms that pulsed with bass and the moans of her coworkers, the inside of the vehicle was ... muted.

“Where’s the manager that’s supposed to watch you leave?” he asked, idly adjusting something on the dashboard.

“He’s busy.” Lila shrugged, leaning her head back against the seat. “ He Gets a freebie every night.

“A freebie, huh?” he chuckled.

“Yeah,” Lila said. “He get’s to pick any girl he wants and have sex with them before he clocks out. Usually, it’s me, but tonight it’s Gia. It’s one of the perks of being the manager.”

“Perks of the job, huh?” The man chuckled, shaking his head.

Lila didn’t respond, just exhaled slowly, stretching her sore legs.

“Thanks for the ride,” she finally said.

“No problem.” The car shifted into gear, and they pulled onto the street, the neon glow of Pleazure Express fading into the distance behind them. “So where to?”

“Oh, uh, I live near the High School. The red house on the corner of fifth.” Lila said, watching the city blur past the window.

“I know where that is,” he said, his eyes never leaving the road. “I’m not a creep, don’t worry. I used to drive Taxi’s in the area and I’m very familiar with the local roads.”

“I never said you were a creep,” Lila giggled nervously, watching the street lights pass by.

“Oh, I know, I just wanted to let you know.” He smiled, glancing at her. “So how old are you, Lila?”

“Sixteen,” she said, her fingers picking at the edge of her hoodie sleeve.

“Just a kid,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re a beautiful young lady, Lila.”

They drove in silence for a few minutes, the soft murmur of the radio blending with the rhythmic hum of the tires against the road. It wasn’t uncomfortable—Lila was used to quiet. Some clients never shut up, filling the air with meaningless chatter, while others barely said a word. She preferred the latter.

But eventually, he broke the silence.

“I, uh...” He hesitated. “I wanted to say sorry if I was ... difficult tonight.”

“Difficult?” Lila turned slightly, glancing at him.

“Yeah. I know it probably wasn’t fun for you. Four hours is a long time, especially on top. You must be sore as hell, and it was my fault. I just...” His fingers tightened slightly on the wheel. “I just ... needed a distraction.”

Lila didn’t respond right away. She wasn’t sure what he wanted her to say. That it was fine? That she enjoyed it? That it didn’t matter because he paid?

“It’s part of the job,” she finally said.

“I know,” he said, nodding slowly. “But still. It’s not really fair, is it? I mean, guys like me ... we come in, throw money around, and expect someone else to make us forget our problems. It’s kind of fucked up when you think about it.”

“It’s not fucked up,” Lila shook her head, her gaze fixed on the passing streets. “We both get something out of it. You get to escape for a while, and I get paid. Everyone wins.”

“Yeah, but ... look, I’m not gonna lie. I’m not an easy customer. I was frustrated and angry, and you didn’t deserve that. You’re just trying to do your job.”

Lila was quiet, her thoughts racing. She wasn’t used to this kind of conversation. Sure, she had heard men thank her, compliment her, sometimes even apologize for being rude, but not like this. Clients didn’t usually acknowledge their behavior, let alone feel guilty about it.

“Why did you need a distraction?” she asked, turning slightly to look at him.

The man was quiet for a moment. Then, finally, he said it.

“My wife killed herself this morning.”

Lila stiffened slightly. Not in shock, she’d heard worse, but because she knew what came next.

The confession. The vulnerability. The weight.

Clients did this sometimes. They’d walk into a place like Pleazure Express looking for escape, for pleasure, for release, for a warm hole pound into. But somewhere along the way, the pleasure stopped being enough, and they needed something else. Someone to hear them. Someone to absorb the grief, the anger, the loneliness.

It wasn’t her job to be that person. But sometimes, clients didn’t care what her job was. They would unload on her anyway, tell her their darkest secrets, the deepest wounds, the worst parts of themselves. Expecting her to smile, nod, to say the right things, and to act the right way while they were fucking her. She couldn’t refuse because, in a way, she was still fulfilling her role as a whore.

The hardest part for Lila, was that she did care. She wanted to hear. She wanted to know. No matter how many men pounded their pain into her, she was still just a sixteen year old girl, and she couldn’t help but want to listen. She was young and curious and empathetic. So, when a man told her his deepest fears, his darkest secrets, the wounds on his soul, she never turned them away. She was the listener.

“I’m so sorry,” she said softly, her fingers

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Lila gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.

“Yeah. Me too.” He exhaled, gripping the wheel a little tighter.

Another silence stretched between them.

“I thought the pleasure would drown out the pain,” he admitted. “I thought the sex would take the edge off, I thought having you bounce on my cock would make me forget for a few hours, but it didn’t. Not really. It just...” He trailed off. “It’s complicated. I can’t really explain it.”

Lila said nothing. Because she knew.

She’d seen it before, heard it before. The men who came in looking for something they couldn’t name. Thinking they could fuck their way out of grief, out of loneliness, out of regret. It was an act of desperation, a last-ditch attempt to find some sort of relief, to find meaning in the meaningless. Men would use her body, her presence, her existence to try and fill a hole in themselves that they couldn’t define, so they filled her holes instead.

“Thanks,” he sighed, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. “I know it sounds cliche, but she really did mean the world to me. We had a good life, a happy marriage. Things weren’t perfect, but they were pretty damn good. We loved each other, and that’s what matters, right? Love?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

“But, and I hope you don’t mind me saying this, having you there, having your company, your companionship, made things a little bit easier. It made the pain a little less intense. You were kind, and understanding, and patient. And if you had given up on me at any point, or stopped trying to make me cum, this car would be going a different direction right now. I’m serious. You were the only reason I’m alive right now, Lila.”

“Wow,” she breathed, her eyes wide. “I had no idea.”

“It’s a lot to process, I know.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Listen, Lila, I don’t want to freak you out, but I have to be honest. I have a proposal for you.”

“A proposal?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Now, before I tell you, I want you to understand that you have the option to say no. You have the right to say no. This isn’t a business proposition, it’s an opportunity. You’re under no obligation to accept, and I won’t be mad if you decline.”

“Okay,” she said, her voice barely audible.

“When I saw you working at the counter, you looked so happy, so full of life, so ... energetic. It reminded me of my wife when we first met. And then seeing you in the booth, and feeling your pussy clench around my cock, was just ... well, it was incredible. Having you on top of me for four hours was amazing. I can’t explain it, but there’s something about you, Lila. There’s a spark, a fire, a passion that I haven’t felt in a very long time. You’re young, and you’re beautiful, and you’re full of energy and enthusiasm. You remind me so much of my wife, it’s like she’s sitting right next to me.”

Lila said nothing, her eyes glued to the dashboard.

“I’d like to hire you, Lila. I’d like to pay you to spend time with me. I can’t lie, it will involve sex, and it will be more than once, but mostly I’d like to be able to talk with you, and laugh with you, and be in your presence. Would you be interested in something like that?”