The Major 2

„Take off your clothes.“

My today’s customer does not beat around the bush. He prefers clear instructions. Well, I unbutton my dress.

„Turn around.“

I turn my back on the Major. This is how I call him in secret, just to myself. Having this tone of voice, he seems predestined for a high military position. Actually, he mentioned he was an investment banker, but I prefer my own story.

I take off my dress. And then my bra and my panties. After that I stand there and… nothing happens. I just stand there how god created me and turn my backside on the Major. It seems as if he has a butt fetish, I tell to myself and wait for his hand on my backside. And still nothing happens.

He booked me for one hour. One hour in a hotel room. Most of the time, the customers of the Hamburg Escort Agency book me for the whole evening or even longer. One hour is a really short booking that is not usual. However, today I learned that one hour can be a long period of time. Painfully long.

„Would you like me to …“


He pours cold water on my attempt to communicate. So I keep on standing there, turning my back on the Major. I feel a little bit cold, but that is okay. After all, I am well paid. Especially taking into account that I do not have to do anything but to stand there.

What is he actually doing? Is he masturbating? Or does he simply wish to delay the moment he touches my skin? Is he drawing a picture of me? Or does he try to remember my body in detail to engrave this picture in his mind? My imagination goes wild. I try to listen carefully to guess what he is doing. But I do not hear anything but his quiet breathing.

I run out of patience and start to turn around. He reacts immediately: „Stay where you are.“ Okay, a „please“ would have been nice. At least I know that he is alive. Very well then, it is his money. And my butt. Time is a relative concept. You will learn that as soon as you are caught in a situation where nothing happens. Is it possible that this „nothing“ is sexually stimulating?

I try to keep my mind busy. I make a shopping list. I go through the content of my last lecture at university. I think about where to spend my summer holiday. Mallorca, Croatia or the South of France are my destinations of choice.

And then I get stuck by a thought that will torture me for the rest of this endless hour: Is there something wrong with my butt? A pimple? Oh no. I trust not. I start to imagine that the Major is a famous painter. And that he is right now drawing a picture that will be exposed at an honored place in the new national gallery: „Girl with pimple on her butt.“ Please, don’t. Maybe it is just some kind of experiment. To see my reactions in a situation like this. And to provoke strange thoughts such as the idea of the pimple picture. Congratulations, Sade. You walked right into the trap. Please, tell us what happened in your mind during the last hour.

I do not know how many times my imagination went wild. Or how precisely the Major studied my butt. Finally he releases me with a short „thank you.“ I put my clothes on and keep silent. The Major says good bye and shakes my hand with a friendly glance. I have been paid in advance.

I do not ask any questions because I know that I will not receive any reply. The Major opens the door for me and I give him a friendly nod. I will never know what he did during the last hour.