An Hour with Shana

I’d been driving around the same few blocks for almost 20 minutes and was ready to make the turn back towards my apartment when her dress caught my eye. A small breeze must have caught the lower edge of the fabric and blown in around the edge of the doorway she was standing in – out of the corner of my eye it seemed someone was waving a flag at me. I stared for a few moments and was rewarded by the sight of a shapely leg advancing from the stoop.

What the hell was I doing roaming a notorious neighborhood at 1:45am except looking for some kind of trouble to get myself into. I turned the car down the street towards the sight of silky dress fabric tumbling around a very curvy ass. Her walk was obvious, nobody walks that way unless they are doing what she was doing – trolling for desperate guys like myself. I went by her at a slow, steady speed to confirm that what I saw from the corner was what I thought it was. She was looking away, back towards the doorway she exited, when I made my first pass. I could only see a medium length of shocking blond hair poking out from the rim of her hat – but that was enough to make a second pass.

It was cool, a little foggy, and I seemed to be the only vehicle in the area. She saw me coming on the second lap and made direct eye contact from the moment she noticed my car. Her hat shadowed her eyes such that I couldn’t see what color they were – but not enough to prevent me from seeing her smile in my rearview mirror as I passed. She knew I was coming right back around before I knew it.

~ HONK! ~ Holy Shit! I almost drifted through the red light as I looked back in the mirror at her. I peeled my fingers off of the steering wheel long enough to lower the radio volume, took a couple of deep breaths and turned in order to make it back around the block. When I got to the corner before the final turn I was suddenly aware of how nervous I was. I took a look at myself in the visor mirror, not so much for vanity as to make sure I didn’t look like a maniac or something. I gathered myself and made the slow right turn.

She wasn’t there. Damn. I would have bet she would be waiting right there for me – right next to the scraggly little tree planted in a hole in the sidewalk. I didn’t see any other cars, but I guessed someone had beat me to her. I gave myself a “tsk” in my head and rolled down the block, more ready than ever to just go home.

I was looking to my left as I approached the intersection, ensuring no more close encounters with other cars, so I didn’t notice her standing there just around the corner – looking right at me. When I did go to turn, she was moving towards the passenger side door and I awkwardly hit the brakes when I spotted that same white fabric. She was giggling at my obvious surprise and knocked on the window. I leaned over and unlocked the door.

“You going to drive around this block all night?” She asked as she opened the door and leaned in.

“If that’s what it takes, I guess I would,” I said, trying to sound cool, “in fact I was just ready to head home when I saw you.”

“Is home nearby?” Her eyes drifted around the inside of the car as she asked.

“About 10 minutes from here – how about you?” My eyes were not drifting anywhere, just staring.

“Wherever I’m hanging this.” she peeled off her hat, stared back at me with ice blue eyes and came right to point, “Are you a cop?”

I shook my head and smiled to myself. “Nope, are you?”

“No way, honey,” she sat down on the passenger seat with one leg in the car and one on the curb, “what is a nice-looking guy like you doing around here this early in the morning?”

“Same reason any guy would be here,” my voice projecting a don’t-give-a-shit attitude, “I wanna get laid.”

“Well, honey, what are you waiting for?” She pulled her other leg in and yanked the door shut, “Let’s go home.”

We didn’t talk much as I drove through the dark streets – the sound of my wiper blades squeakily clearing away the mist was the only consistent voice. I let my eyes roam across her body several times while she fiddled with her cell phone. Every so often she would ask me if I liked what I saw and flipped her hair aside to look right at me when I answered “oh yeah.” When we pulled into the garage under the apartment building, she remarked that she had been here before. I started to make mental guesses about which of my neighbors had hosted her in the past.

In the light of the elevator, I got my first really good look at her face, even though she was still busy with things in her purse. She was in better shape than most of the streetwalkers in the area – her skin free of the scars and scabs that accumulate on the more veteran girls. The dress was snug until it got just past her hips, where the fabric moved about even when she was just standing still. The hemline rippled across her knees like water at the edge of a lake. The only thing I wasn’t enjoying was the sight of her hair in the fluorescent light – blond to the point of being absurd and nearly fried from over-treatment of some sort. It looked like bad doll hair.

She looked up from her phone when the elevator stopped and stepped out into the hallway first. The smile she gave me then seemed to be a combination of relief and promise, as if she’d finally accepted that I was for real and that she was going to get paid. She held my arm like we were going to the prom as we walked to my door.

“How long have you lived here?” she asked, peeking back down the hallway.

“Only about 3 months,” I replied, slipping the key into the lock, “so don’t be surprised – it’s not very well decorated.”

I pushed the door open and let her go in first, taking a long look at her round ass cheeks as they rolled under her dress, perfectly topping off her legs as they sauntered into my apartment. She made herself right at home, plopping her purse down on a side table and herself in the chair next to it.

“Something to drink?” I offered, moving into the kitchen.

“Maybe just some water, honey,” she said, “you really do need to get some pictures or something on these walls.”

I chuckled to myself as I filled a glass from the kitchen tap – I just knew she would say something.

“Would you believe me if I told you this is my first time doing this?” I said more to the sink than to her, “I’m not even sure how it goes.” I can’t recall how I felt about the silence as I walked from the kitchen.

“It’ll be $300, honey,” she said to me as I handed her the water, “up front, and you can have me for an hour to do whatever you want.”

She raised the glass to her lips and looked at me as I tried to appear composed at her matter-of-fact declaration. I pursed my lips as if I was actually contemplating options, and she grinned at me knowing full well that we were already in agreement. I kept up the really bad acting job by putting one hand under my chin and rolling my eyes to the ceiling, but she got up and gave me something better to look at.

“I usually start with a little show for you, you know, to get your blood flowing.” She stood up, facing away from me and cocked her full hips to one side.