Maybe Another Time… (A San Francisco Story) PART 1.


The lights flickered above her head as she attempted to adjust her eyeliner in preparation for the next client. The cracked mirror only further obscured her view. She glanced at her phone and saw she had 30 minutes before her next scheduled appointment began. She without thinking grabbed her dented pack of cigarettes, flicked her lighter to make sure it still had fluid and headed for the small 4th story window overlooking the street below: Turk Street.

She stared at the ever-present white street sign hoisted above the constant shuffle of crack heads, drug dealers and working people doing their best to avoid eye contact as they scurried to their jobs. She experienced a sense of satisfaction as she imagined the horror Chao felt as he waddled down Turk to the SRO from his family’s small apartment in Chinatown. The thought of him wearing his Giants ball cap and cheap aviator sunglasses to avoid being recognized on his visit to a prostitute was intoxicating. Her smile faded as she thought about how a visit with her, or any association with her is something to be ashamed of. Worst of all, she needed him and others like him to give her life any semblance of stability. She took a deeper drag of the cigarette. Her mind continued to wander as she slowly exhaled the smoke from her lungs and watched it immediately vanish as a gust of wind picked up. Her phone notified her of a text message. She inhaled one final drag before she put out her cigarette on the outer edge of the windowsill and glanced at her phone. As suspected, it was Chao informing her that he was almost there. “b there soon destiny xoxoxo” Every time a trick referred to her as Destiny she fought off the urge to cringe. Whenever she heard it uttered, which was often, she’d have a flashback of her first time working in the neighborhood, and that pimp that gave her the nickname, Destiny. She could hear his voice. “A girl like you is destined for great things, I’mma call you destiny.” It didn’t matter that her real name was Suzanne Wahlz, from that day forward everyone who knew her in the Tenderloin called her Destiny.

She opened her dresser to find the red low-cut tank top Chao had bought for her. Not out of the kindness of his heart, but because he demanded her to be naked when he got into the room without having to look at her “ugly” C-section scar and any other flaw that reminded him of her humanity. It didn’t bother her as long as he paid for it, which he did, at times begrudgingly. As she slid the tank top on she felt it was looser than usual, but she concluded it was barely noticeable. If Chao complained so be it. She received another text from Chao, she didn’t look at it, she knew what it meant, he was there and he wanted to be buzzed in. Patience was not one of Chao’s strong suits, almost instantly after the text was sent he started to tap the buzzer. She pressed the intercom button and in faux sexy voice that poorly masked her annoyance she said “Come on up.” And buzzed him into the building. Once Chao was in the room, he wasted no time. There was no greeting, just “Destiny, get on the bed and bend over.” She acquiesced to his demands, she had to. Chao walked over to Destiny’s dresser and placed his Giants cap and sunglasses in the top drawer. He then got on his knees at the foot of the bed and began to slap Destiny on her butt. “Say you like it.” He said in a demanding tone. “I love it.” She responded. “How much do you love it? How much do you want me to fuck you?” She always had a hard time keeping a straight face when Chao tried to talk dirty to her. She found the idea of dirty talk cliché, and his Chinese accent made it more amusing to her. Chao stood up, undid his belt and pulled his pants down to his knees. After standing there for few seconds Chao asked in an exasperated voice, “Destiny, what you waiting for? Condom!” Destiny did her best version of a sexy crawl to the side of the bed, reached into her purse and pulled out an extra-large condom. Most of the men that visited didn’t need anything larger than the standard size, but the idea that someone thought they were well endowed excited them. It made the clients feel less anxious, made them finish faster and hopefully solidified repeat visits. Over the years Destiny learned that clients didn’t just pay for sex, they paid for an ego boost. Chao grabbed the condom from Destiny and placed it on his erect penis. He paused for a moment, as he always did and waited for Destiny to ask him to be inside of her. The main element to Chao’s sexuality was his need to feel powerful and desired. He had to be treated with complete respect and subservience, or else he would become agitated. While Destiny didn’t know the source of these behavioral fetishes, she understood they were there and used these observations to her advantage. Over the years of working as a prostitute in San Francisco, Destiny learned that prostitution was equal parts sex, theatre and psychology. Comprehension of these basic components were key to survival. Upon first thrust Destiny let out a moan that his 5’ penis didn’t quite justify. Chao sped up, and the moans became more exaggerated. This lasted for about 3 minutes. As he approached climax, his grip tightened on Destiny’s hips to the point of slight discomfort until he let out a restrained moan upon ejaculation. Destiny tilted her head to the side and asked, “Did you cum, baby?” Chao simply nodded. In what seemed like an instant Chao had gone to the bathroom, flushed the condom down the toilet, did a light sink wash of his genitals and was fully dressed. He looked almost exactly as he had before their session, ridiculous sunglasses and all, just a bit sweatier. In a business like fashion Chao opened his brown leather wallet and pulled out two tattered fifty dollar bills. As Destiny received the money she instructed Chao to wait for a moment. She walked into the bathroom and held both bills up to the bathroom light to be certain they weren’t counterfeit. “Okay, Can I go now? I have to go.” Chao said in a demanding tone. Destiny replied in a calm voice after verifying the bills’ authenticity. “See you later, Hun.” As the door closed behind Chao she felt a sense of relief. She had the money needed to pay her monthly fee at the SRO, and just enough money left over to get what she really desired…




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Abraham Woodliff

Abraham Woodliff

Bay Area native, Hip Hop nerd, literature and poetry enthusiast, freelance writer, gamer, caffeine addict. Follow me on Twitter.