Occupational Hazards

Occupational Hazards

By Kayla

Disclaimer: A focus on m/m prostitution. Don't read if this topic offends you.

Note: Not edited.

I groggily made my way into the bathroom to take a shower. The feeling of scalding water running over my body, cleansing me of the touches of others, was one of the greatest pleasures in my life. I stood in the shower until the hot water ran out, and then reluctantly crawled out of it. I put on my favorite pair of boxers and made my way into the kitchen to get something to eat. There was about twenty something bottles of various liquor and three varieties of beer in my refrigerator, but absolutely no food at all. I rummaged around, slightly annoyed that I hadn't gone grocery shopping this week. To my surprise, there was a jar of peanut butter sitting all the way back behind a bottle of rum. Happily, I took it out and found a spoon to dig into it.

I sat down in front of the TV with my breakfast and started flipping through the channels to see if there was anything good on. Nothing. Instead of getting up and popping in a DVD, I lazily watched infomercials.

"You're not drinking Vodka for lunch again, are you?"

I looked up and grinned at Matt. He had a copy of my key so he dropped in whenever he wanted; usually around the time I wake up so we could get breakfast together.

"Nah. That was a mistake I'm not willing to make ever again." I held up my jar of peanut butter. "Want some? It's creamy and delicious." I mimicked a salesman's tone of voice.

He laughed. "No thanks. Now go get dressed so we could get some real food."

I got up and headed to my bedroom. "That was real food. It's a stable part of my diet."

"Honestly Tobias I have no idea how you have such a hot body with the shit that you eat."

I pulled on some baggy pants and my favorite black hoodie. "I get a lot of exercise through my job." I smirked at him as I emerged from my room. Where the hell was my hat?

"You're right, sex does use up a lot calories." He said as he held up my baseball cap and sunglasses.

I smiled at him gratefully as I took them from him. "Don't you worry though, my ego is kept well under control."

We headed out of the door and towards his car. The roads were slightly icy from the leftover snowstorm that had swept the city a week ago. I didn't mind though, I loved the cold weather. "How was last night?" Matt asked.

I shrugged. "Not too bad. A lot of first time visitors. You can always tell they're a newbie when they practically have a heart attack when you bend over with a wave of a hundred dollar bill."

He started up the car and we headed towards Subway, where we went every afternoon. "I'd have a heart attack if you bent over." He teased.

I rolled my eyes. "Matt, I've bent over for you before."

He shrugged, "I can't help it if I have a friend who's so talented with his ass...and mouth."

I cringed inwardly. "Anyway, how was your work?" Matt worked under his father who was the founder of a multi million-dollar company. This was a guy who got a Ferrari for his first car, the boy who grew up in a house full of servants, and never once had to worry about not having enough money to last the month. I used to be insanely jealous of him but luckily I got over that before it completely consumed me and ruined our friendship.

"Boring. It's pretty much going to suck until I take over the company."

"When do you think that's going to happen?" I asked.

"Probably in ten or fifteen years."

"Cool." I watched the traffic outside my window. A wave of sadness washed over me. Where will I be in ten or fifteen years? I'm never going to get enough money to go to college. I can barely afford to pay for gas, electricity, water, the apartment, and the car insurance. Speaking of which, I needed to pay my credit card bill before tomorrow. Four hundred eighty dollars and twenty-six cents. I have five hundred thirteen dollars and sixty-eight cents in my checking account. That'll leave me with only thirty-three dollars and forty two cents to last me for sixteen more days this month. The electricity bill is coming in four days which means...

"Dude. Quit spacing out and get out of the car already." Matt interrupted my train of thoughts.

I realized I'd been sitting in the parked car for quite a while. Smiling sheepishly, I crawled out and followed him into the restaurant.

We got our sandwiches and settled into the nearest booth.

"What are you doing this weekend?" He asked me.

I took a bite out of my sandwich and nearly closed my eyes with the overwhelming deliciousness that swept over my taste buds. "Working probably."

"You took Saturday night off, right?"

"What? Oh yeah your birthday party." I scrunched up my nose. "Dude, I don't think I'm going to make it. If I don't work I'm not even going to be able to get you that birthday present you want."

"No...Come on, man. I want you there." He paused and his eyes shifted down when he said that. It seemed like he was hiding something from me.

"Why? It's just going to be a bunch of your father's high-class friends and your rich buddies from college. I don't fit in anywhere in that picture."

He scoffed, "Here we go again with your whining. It's not my fault I'm rich, okay?"

"That's not what I meant, I'm just stating the truth. I mean, what would your friends think of you if they knew you hung out with a hooker all the time? Can you seriously look straight into my eyes and tell me that they'll be okay with it?"

He sighed and chewed thoughtfully on his sandwich. He deftly avoided the question I asked him, "Look, can't you please come? I'm not even having it at my house. It's just a pretty small party with my closest friends."

He was making me feel bad. I really wanted to go to celebrate his birthday but there was no way I was going to be able to afford his present AND get through the rest of the month if I didn't work double shifts. "I'll drop in after my shift. Is that okay?"

"When do you get off tomorrow night?"

"I'm not booked for anyone tomorrow night yet, so I'll most likely just be down at the club until about one." I quickly added, "But if I get a client, I'm not sure how long it'll last. I'll give you a call after my shift."

He looked like he was about to argue again but then he suddenly stopped and gave me a smirk. I can almost hear the wheels turning in his brain. "Okay. Sounds good."

He was up to something by the looks of him, but I shrugged off my wariness. I'm way too paranoid for my own good.

After our meal, he drove me back to my apartment and he went back to his dorm. Before I even managed to switch on the TV and settle down on my couch, my cell phone rang. I picked it up and looked at the caller ID. It was Kelly from work.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Hey Toby. Someone just called in asking for you. Can you make an appointment at five?"

I scrunched up my nose. I rarely get appointments this early in the day. Just as I was about to tell her I couldn't make it, I remembered my pathetic thirty-three dollars and forty two cents in my bank account that will have to last me through the rest of the month. "Yeah. I can do that."

She gave me the address. I was surprised it was a new person since new clients rarely ask for anyone in particular on their first time. I hung up and looked at the clock. It was a little bit past four and it was going to take me half an hour to drive there. Grudgingly, I got up and started to change my clothes. After throwing on my customary work clothes, I headed out the door with my bag.

This guy...Terrence lived in the Upper East Side of the city. It was clear that he was fairly well off from the looks of the mansions that littered the private street. I scowled. He was probably some seventy-year-old guy whose wife had died and his children had gone off to college, leaving him alone to hire escorts into his fancy house to entertain him. He'll wear designer clothes that cost more than everything I own to hide the flaps of skin that has slid off from his ancient bones.

With a sigh of resignation, I mentally prepared myself as I got out of my car. All the windows in the house were drawn tightly closed and the place would have looked fairly deserted if not for the well kept lawn.

I reached the front door and rang the doorbell. No answer. I rang the bell again. Just as I was about to call Kelly to double check the address, the door swung open. It was dark inside and it took me a moment to make out the figure that stood before me.

He was...young. Very young. He looked to be just a little bit older than I was; maybe twenty or twenty-one. His body was hardly flappy or old, but displayed the fitness of youth.

He fidgeted nervously under my stare and I cursed myself as I realized I had been just gaping at him. Plastering on a smile, I asked, "Terrence?"

He nodded.

"Hi. Nice to meet you, my name is Tobias."

He nodded again without saying anything. What was wrong with this guy? Why is he just standing there acting all nervous?

"Can I come in?" I asked still with my smile firmly plastered on my lips.

He nodded and stepped back, gesturing inside. I swallowed hard as I stepped into the house. There was an absence of light in the whole house. What sunlight managed to peek through the heavy black curtains left the room in jagged shadows of black and white. Empty bottles and trash littered the floor, torn couch, and tables.

I was suddenly not so sure I wanted to do this. This place looked like it was housing dead bodies in the basement. Did he invite hookers into his house to murder them and then rape their corpse? He was probably one of those people who thought that whores deserved to die. I mean, why else would a young, decent looking guy like him HIRE someone to have sex with him?

I twisted around to look at him. He still wasn't speaking, just watching me. Chills crept down my spine.

I tried to play off my fear. "Do you want to go into the bedroom?"

He nodded and started up the stairs. I followed him up, noting the dirty stains on the once pure white carpet that led up to the second floor. All the doors upstairs were closed. He went into the one all the way down the hallway.

The room was in similar condition as the rest of the house. Messy, dark, and chaotic. Scattered bottles of various liquor and beer lay on the floor along with mysterious pills.

"Have you ever worked with someone like me before?" I tried to make small talk with him to try to distract myself from the apprehension creeping down my spine.

He shook his head.

"Okay. There are just some general rules. I must be able to see you at all times. The damage you inflict cannot be permanent and you must wear a condom any time bodily fluids may be exchanged."

He nodded and shifted back and forth on his feet uneasily. Was he going to handcuff me to the bed and start gutting me?

"Were you informed of the rates?" I asked. I started opening up the bag and taking out condoms, lube, porn, handcuffs, ropes, and various other sex toys.

He shook his head.

"It's one hundred for a fuck. One twenty for a fuck and a blowjob. And an extra twenty five if you intend to inflict any kind of temporary damage."

I saw him swallow as he nodded slowly.

I smiled at him and began taking my shirt off. This is the part I hated the most. The way strangers stared at me like I was a piece of meat. Which I pretty much was...to them." I took off my shoes and my pants. He started to pull off his clothes too. Pretty soon we were just in our boxers. He was wearing a pair of long black ones. I was relieved it wasn't some silk top designer ones that most of the "rich" clients wore. They were so ridiculous.

He stared at me as I walked up to him slowly. I finally got a good look at his face and almost stopped in my track. His eyes were brilliantly green; so vibrant it almost seemed to be illuminated from some inner light. They were fringed by heavy dark lashes that seemed impossibly long. The delicate structure of his face was covered by pale luminescent skin. It contrasted beautifully with dark raven black hair. This was new to me. I rarely thought of a client as good looking...and this guy was so gorgeous he could easily be a model. Why was he paying for sex? Was something wrong with him? Maybe he has a highly contagious disease...so he has to seclude himself in the house.

I allowed my smile to slowly fade as I pushed my lips out slightly into a pout and looked at him with what I hoped was my "lust" face. Leaning in close to him, I allowed my lips to brush against his earlobes as I whispered, "What would you like me to do, Terrence?"

I heard him swallow hard. The warmth of his body trembled slightly against my naked chest. His hand hesitantly came up and touched the side of my body softly. "Call me Terry." He whispered softly.

A part of me collapsed in relief with the sound of his voice. The fact that he hadn't spoken before had freaked me out a lot more than I had originally thought. There was also something in his voice that made me think twice about him being a serial killer. It was so delicate and vulnerable...like he was afraid of speaking too loudly.

I moved my face in front of his so he could see me smile. "Okay Terry."

His hand was still on my side, moving back and forth in timid circles. I waited for him to tell me what to do but when he didn't say anything, I took the reigns. Sliding down on my knees, I slowly pulled down his boxers.

I looked up at him to make sure he was okay with this and he just stared back at me with wide eyes, waiting for my next move. I took hold of his cock in my hand. I couldn't complain about the size, it was a pleasant change from the four inchers that I was used to. Quickly, I slapped on a condom and then took him in my mouth.

He let out a small gasp as his hand came up to tangle into my hair. I expected him to shove my face all the way down until his cock was lodged down into my throat but that never came. His hands moved in slow patterns over my head as he emitted small gasps of pleasure once in a while. I took my time with him, letting myself enjoy being with such a hot guy. Slowly, I swallowed him inch by inch until my nose and lips were buried in his pubes, a good portion of his cock down my throat. Surprisingly, he didn't smell bad at all. I had expected a guy who lived in such a messy house to not ever shower, but he smelled deliciously like soap.

I started to hum and he let out a gasp before he quickly pulled me off of him. I looked up at him expectantly, waiting for his next move. He had his eyes closed and I could tell he was concentrating hard on not cumming. Finally his eyes opened once again to reveal the vibrant green pupils.

"Can I fuck you?"

I've never had people ask me that before. They're usually just, 'bend over."

I nodded then asked, "Where do you want me?" Hey, he could have wanted to do it on the floor or something so I don't get his bed dirty. Though I don't know how much cleaner the bed is compared to the floor.

He pointed to the bed. I crawled on and got on all fours, facing the opposite wall. I felt him come behind me and his warm fingers started to massage my hips. I heard the cap of the tube of lube pop open and the sound of liquid being squirted. My muscles tensed as he touched me and started to spread the lube around. I tried not to think about what was to come. I mean, I would have to be extremely lucky to ever get a guy so hot to ever want to sleep with me, but everything he was doing was so impersonal. When he touched me, he touched me as a whore. When he gently pushed into me, he was fucking a whore.

I closed my eyes and concentrated on breathing and squeezing my ass to the rhythm of his thrusts. A wave of self-disgust washed over me like every time this happened. My brain started whirling, my paranoia flared, and I started to listen to the little voice of self-hatred whispering in my mind. With an effort, I focused my mind on something else to block out the surging anxiety attack.

Thirty three dollars and forty two cents. I still needed to pay a hundred eighteen dollars and sixty four cents for utility before the end of this month. Matt's present is going to cost six hundred ninety nine dollars...so with tax that'd be seven hundred twelve dollars and fifty three cents. I'll need to get some gas later tonight, which should cost at most twenty three dollars and seventeen cents with the current gas price. In total...for this month, I'll need eight hundred fifty four dollars and thirty four cents. Since I have thirty three dollars and forty two cents...I'll need to obtain eight hundred twenty dollars and nine-

I yelped in surprise as I felt the client's hand wrap around my cock. He started jerking up and down to the rhythm of his thrusts. I gritted my teeth in annoyance. I guess I should appreciate the fact that he was concerned with getting me off too since 98% of the clients I've met only cared about their own pleasure. But truth be told there was nothing more I hated than cumming or getting hard during a job. It was bad enough that the clients would mock me for "enjoying" it by saying shit like "Oh you dirty slut. You like this you whore..." or other bullshit similar to that, but the worst part was how I felt afterwards. It not only scared me but also disgusted me to no end that my body may have actually enjoyed being fucked by fat smelly old men with their hairy four-inch dicks. The only thing that keeps me from going into the depths of depression with job like this is self-justification that I'm not ACTUALLY a slut; that this is done out of necessity and not because I like it. Getting off on a job qualifies as a certain amount of enjoyment. 

"Oh, you don't need to do that." I laughed, twisting my head around to look at him.

His hands paused slightly but then they started up again. "I want to."

I mashed my teeth together. I wanted to tell him to get his hands off my dick, but he's paying money for this and I couldn't exactly tell him no. Eventually, I couldn't hold off anymore, and I got hard. By that time, he was getting pretty close as evidenced by the fact that his rhythm was completely erratic and he was slamming into me harder with each thrust. He came with a sigh, his hand holding my cock in a grip that was way too tight. I didn't complain though, I just waited until he recovered and pulled out before stretching my sore muscles. It felt good to have the intrusion out of my ass.

I turned around and watched as he threw the used condom on the ground next to him. What was wrong with this guy? Was it too much trouble to walk the five steps to throw it in the trashcan?

He started to put his pants on and I took it as my cue to leave. I found my clothes and started to pull it on.

"Um." He started. I looked up at him, surprised that he was actually talking. "Sorry you didn't get off."

I stared at him, completely incredulous. Did this guy even live on Earth? Nobody cared if the whore gets anything out of it. Nobody has and nobody ever will. Wha-What the fuck is wrong with this guy?!

I schooled my face and tried to hide my doubts that this guy was sane. A smile curved on my lips. At least I hoped it was a smile, "Don't worry about it. The important thing is if you had a good time."

He nodded and went back to pulling his clothes on and I did the same. Once I got dressed, I picked up my bag, wished him a good day, and walked out.

I couldn't believe I was actually alive. That guy was creepy as hell. He wasn't the usual type of weirdoes that got off on inflicting pain, but he was sketchy in the sense that something was just not quite...right.

Shaking the feeling of apprehension, I called up Kelly and asked her if there were any more appointments today.

"Yeah. At eight thirty your usual date with George."

I sighed. George was this fifty-year-old businessman who was into the kinky shit. My appointments with him were usually pretty harmless since he has a special liking for me. But he was fond of tying me up in really uncomfortable positions and leaving me there for quite a while. I usually got out of the job at 1 or 2 am so sore it was hard to walk up the stairs to my apartment.

"Okay thanks. By the way, do you know what my schedule is for tomorrow?"

"Let's see...this guy called in specifically for you and a girl to work at a party. It'll be around nine for the entire night."

Dammit. Matt's birthday party! "Crap. I can't make that. My best friend's birthday is tomorrow and I can't miss it."

"He asked for you though, I can't get a replacement to go. You can't believe how much money he's offering for the night. You'll get two thousand if you play your cards right."

 I nearly drove my car off the street when she said that. "Two thousand?! Are you sure that's what he said?"

"Yeah. He said if you showed up and did everything they told you to, you'll walk away with at least two thousand."

Hey Matt, I'm sorry but I won't be able to make it to your birthday party tomorrow. "I'll do it." Because I'm getting two fucking THOUSAND dollars for a job!

"Great. You'll get the details tomorrow. Oh yeah, and you also have another appointment at seven with Brandon."

"Who's Brandon?"

"He came in one time before on...August...sixth. The feedback you gave was, `Obsession with wax. Required silence. Did not perform intercourse, did not get off at all."

"Oh yeah I remember now. Great thanks. I'll get the address from you later."

"Alright gorgeous. Bye."

It was almost seven. I couldn't wait until tonight was over and I could get some sleep.

------------

I cursed loudly as I slammed my breaks in and parked the car in the "employee parking lot." The watch mockingly stared up at me, displaying 8:50. My shirt was still unbuttoned as I attempted to peel all the wax off of my body. There was still a copious amount of the dried up wax under my pants and I desperately needed to take a shower. The two grand job was going to start at 9 and I could not screw this up. I rushed into the lobby and checked in with Kelly.

"Need to take a shower. I'll be out in five." I called out to her as I grabbed a towel and entered the public shower room.

There were several people there already, including Taylor. "What's up, man?" I greeted him as I stripped quickly and got in the shower stall next to him.

"Hey Toby! Whoa what happened to you?" He asked as he took in the slightly burnt flesh and black candle wax covering my body.

I got in under the sprays and scrubbed shampoo in my hair. I quickly went back to peeling off the rest of the wax. Reaching around, I tried to pry out the majority of it that was in my ass and balls. Thank God I was completely shaved down there or else this would be so much more painful.

"Guy was into hot wax. I have an appointment in 10 minutes." I replied briskly.

"Oh shit dude. Let me help you out with that." He said as he came behind me to help me get the wax off of my inner thighs.

"Thanks. You working at the club tonight?" I asked him. He was a pretty nice guy. I usually only see him here and there because he works here only part time. But I heard a lot of women ask for him. Not a bad looking guy at all, he had the hips of a dancer, which worked out perfectly since he was also a stripper.

"Yeah. I just got done with a job."

I turned around to have him survey me. "Did I get it all off?"

He smirked as he looked at me. "Yeah it's all gone."

I flew back under the shower and finished rinsing everything out. "Talk to you later dude. Have a good night."

"See ya, Toby."

By the time I got out there, it was 8:57. I ran up to the front desk. "Kelly, who am I working with tonight?"

She pointed over to the seats and my gaze rested on a slim petite girl tapping her foot impatiently as she glared at me.

I walked up to her and her face twisted grotesquely as she started bitching me out. "There is no way we're going to make it on time! If we get there late and lose this job, I'm going to-"

"Quit your bitchin'. You're wasting time." I stormed out of the building and I could feel her follow me like a storm cloud waiting for an opportunity to strike. This was going to be a long night.

I didn't ask if she wanted to drive or not. Instead I just got into my car and waited for her to get in with me. She got in and slammed the door shut. I winced. This car was not that new and it felt like the whole thing was going to fall apart for a second there.

"Where to?"

She rattled off the address to me and I took off. We got there eleven minutes late and I was freaking out pretty badly that they were going to get mad.

I knocked on the door and a guy about my age opened the door. He grinned at us. "Guys. The hookers are here!"

Inwardly, I cringed. But I put on a brilliant smile, sure to melt anyone. The chick...I still don't know her name yet. Anyway, she went in first and I followed up behind her. The whole place reeked of beer and alcohol. There were about twelve or thirteen people.

The chick I was working with took off her coat to reveal her gartered thong and five inch heels. She also had on a red leather bra. That outfit, combined with two-inch layer of make up was like a sign that labeled her a hooker; a sign that could be read from two miles away.

The guys hooted and they instantly crowded around her. Why did they invite me here again? I worked exclusively with guys and these guys all looked like they were straight.

Just as I started wondering if there was perhaps a mistake, someone came behind me and wrapped their arms around waist. Their breath tickled my ear as the person leaned down and whispered, "You're way too hot to be a whore."

I instantly plastered on a fake smile and started to turn around but the guy held me in place. He kept on whispering stuff in my ear, "Tell me. Do you get off on letting strangers use you."

The urge to scream NO! I don't like being used and discarded! Was way too strong so I bit my tongue to keep from talking.

He brushed his lips against my neck. I leaned back against him. I flinched when he suddenly bit me on the tender skin. He rubbed the sore spot with his lips and I felt something warm tickle down my throat. Fuck! He made me bleed!

"Answer me." He whispered. "Do you get off. On letting strangers use you."

I let out a fake moan and started to grind my hips into his. "Yes." I groaned. "I'm nothing but a whore to be used...my body belongs to you tonight." He chuckled and his lips went back onto my neck and started sucking harshly once again. I caught the odor of beer and Vodka on his breath and felt my stomach revolt.

The guy started unbuttoning my pants and I let him undress me. I looked over on the side and noticed that the chick I came with was already completely naked and a guy was fucking her doggy style right in the middle of the floor in front of everyone. I really didn't want to do this in the middle of the living room but I have no say in this. The guy grabbed my dick and started jerking on it roughly.

Two other guys came in front of me. One of them was kind of cute, with bleached hair and a pudgy face. The other one looked like a typical Irish with pale skin and red hair. Dark Hair leaned down to kiss me and I jerked back as far as I could away from him.

I plastered on an apologetic smile and said breathily, "Sorry. I don't do that."

The guy advanced on me, his eyes narrowed menacingly...as if he were astonished that I actually denied him. Warily, I took a step back but the guy behind me stiffened and pushed me forward. He still had his hold tightly around my dick so I couldn't twist off to the side.

Somebody to the side called out. "Hey. The whore just told Caleb off!" I pushed back against the person behind me, feeling a bit panicky as a crowd started gathering around us.

He towered over me, his beer-stained breath overpowering my senses. I started to feel claustrophobic with the two people crushing against me.

"I'm sorry..." I started.

His sudden movements towards me made me flinch hard against the person behind me. His mouth came crashing down on mine so hard my lips were grinding against my teeth. I felt his tongue force its way into my mouth and whip wildly into my throat.

The crowd around us cheered loudly as the hand on my cock began pumping harshly. Nothing about this was even remotely turning me on though; I couldn't have gotten hard if I was offered a million dollars. I tasted blood in my mouth along with the disgusting breath of this guy.

He finally pulled away with a triumphant look on his face. The guy behind me held up a hand and gave Dark Hair a high five to the loud drunken encouragement of everyone around us. I ducked my head as tears threatened to overflow my eyes. There comes a point in this job when you realize that you have absolutely no control over your body, that it truly does belong to someone, and this was my moment. I was only an object whose existence is to be USED.

I focused hard on taking my mind elsewhere. This isn't your body. This isn't you. You are NOT here.

Hands yanked my pants down along with my boxers, leaving me exposed to the whole room. The crowd cheered once again and I tried to compose myself. I took a deep breath and looked up once again. I started to turn around but the guy jerked my hips back around, facing away from him. He prodded me further into the house. I looked back slightly and saw the chick I came with being fucked from behind while she sucked on another guy.

I didn't hate her so much anymore for bitching me out earlier.

I lost my shirt somewhere during the walk to the bedroom. As soon as I entered, about five guys came in and locked the door behind them. The guy behind me finally detached himself from me and came into my line of sight.

I gasped.

Matt!

Before I could react, he pressed his lips against mine. For a brief moment, he moved his lips against my mouth but then he shifted over to whisper in my ear, "You don't know me." He nipped at my earlobe. "I don't know you."

One of the rules working at the escort company is that I'm never allowed to get drunk or be on drugs while working a job.

I got fucking trashed that night. I didn't want to think anymore because the only thing that existed in my world were cocks shoving into my ass, and cocks ramming into my throat.

---------

The next morning I woke up on the floor. Matt was gone. The chick had taken my keys and drove back in my car. I put my clothes on and got out of there before anyone else woke up.

It wasn't until I had walked to the parking lot of my apartment that I realized I didn't have the keys to get inside. Luckily, I found the spare and let myself in.

On the table sat four thousand dollars in hundred dollar bills.

I barely made it to the bathroom before I threw up everything that was left in my stomach.

Eh. Not that great. I'm just posting this to get a feel of what people think. Whether this story continues or not depends on the feedback I get. So drop me a quick line at detnuahsoul@yahoo.com