In Plain Sight: An Escort’s Story – Part 2
I guess I should have felt some sort of guilt but I didn’t. If anything, I felt exhilarated and I wanted to do it again. And I did. Over the next two weeks my boss became like my boyfriend. He would open doors for me. He would ask me nicely to do things. He drove me home to my foster parent’s house after work and picked me up there a few times. He didn’t have to do any of these things because I was technically an employee, in more than one way. First and foremost I served soft serve ice cream at an ice cream parlor where he was the boss and son of the owner. Secondly I was a . . . for lack of a better word, a prostitute. Well, maybe not a …