Excerpt: All We Ever Knew

Another day just like any other, complete with a new face on the new body of a new stranger. Maynard had become so accustomed to the motions after three years in the business that his body worked of its own accord, allowing his mind the precious needed break from the constant realizations of what his life was. He made the conversation dirty from the beginning (Hey, handsome, what’s your name? I want to be screaming it later) and was not above handing out a class act tease (Mmmm, you’d be lucky to find an ass half as good anywhere in town. Aha! I know you want it, and God, don’t you want it so bad.) Ultimately the result was always the same in the end — an upheaval of shame writhing in his stomach and what had become nothing more than not quite uncomfortable. A woman, nameless and without a drop of self worth, quite thoroughly changed this. She couldn’t have been a day over 18, not with a face so disaffected by the hardships of adult life. There were precious few things about her to be admired, even after compiling physical attributes with her personality. Far too much makeup and hair product, a shapely body squeezed into last year’s too small jeans, no confidence to speak of and certainly emotionally dry as the day was long. But she was kind, her voice melodious, and Maynard could appreciate the fact that she was just as miserable as he, appreciate and empathize.
There were no words exchanged, and that was comfortable. The door was shut, locked, and their clothing dropped. There was a certain power behind this nameless misfit’s embraces and sharp, rhythmic intakes of breath. Maynard took distinct note of those breaths, often resting his head between surprisingly supple breasts, purposefully matching his breathing with hers. A certain fluidity, perfectly full of all the grace two such awkward beings could compile, coexisted in this most vulnerable state. And when all was said and done, her hair straightened up and her jeans once again painted on, she placed an innocent kiss on his cheek and whispered a simple, “Thanks,” in his ear. The hair on his forearms stiffened, sending small chills down his spine, and for the first time in his life he didn’t change the sheets immediately after his client left. He wanted to savor the memory of this nonconventional beauty, recall the ragged sighs, imagine her breathe on his neck once more. This girl, this nameless downtown goddess, would never realize the impact she’d left on the boy. She’d never realize her loveless passion gave him hope for a new day, a day when he’d get to actually make love to a woman of his choice, to a woman who could incapacitate him with a single word.