Kylie, The Light of Dale’s Life: Part 2

Him: Kylie never let me touch there. She was always worried about germs.

Me: Bacterial infections are concerning.

Him: And your butt is so soft. It feels like you don’t even have to shave it! Kylie always shaves her butt.

Me: Huh. I don’t really grow hair on my butt.

Him: Me neither.

Me: You don’t really grow much hair on your chest or shoulders either?

Him: I don’t! I don’t like body hair that much. That’s why I always shave down there. I’m glad I don’t grow much hair.

I was bouncing on him, while chit chatting in a way that was almost mundane. Of course, he was enjoying the stimulation, but his erection would ebb and flow. When he was thinking deeply about Kylie, he would get soft, but when he had visual stimulus the blood would return to its southern course. Dale likes to watch me spread myself, which has recently become part of my routine. For years I felt the typical genital shame all people with vulvas encounter to some degree. I felt like mine was the wrong color, shape, size, level of protrusion, smell, etc. I wanted to have a pink pussy and asshole, but I’m purple and brown. Now I’ve come to a kind of peaceful admiration for my nether region. I like spreading my ass and opening up after so many years of trying to tuck everything away and hide. I sat on Dale’s chest and spread myself for him to watch, then pretended to masturbate.

Him: I feel like I’m on Chaturbate, but this is way better than Chaturbate! It’s so close.

It did feel like a cam show, but without the barrier of the screen between us. I wasn’t aroused as I touched myself. It was merely the motion-- the gesture of what it might look like if the moment was as real for me as it was for him. But Dale doesn’t expect me to be aroused. He’s fine with me simply providing his pleasure. The worst thing is when clients expect you to be equally aroused and invested in the exchange. I hate feigning pleasure, even when I’m getting paid for it.

Him: Kylie never let me look at hers like this. She’s really private. Actually there was one time where she stood over me and I could see everything! It was really cool. I don’t think she realized, and I didn’t want to embarrass her, so I didn’t say anything. For a while she wouldn’t let me, because she didn’t trust me, but now I’ve been her special friend for two years now. She calls me her angel, because I take care of her so much. Kylie needs a lot of help. She’s been having money problems, and she got sick. She sent me a picture of her face without any makeup and she looked bad. Her eyes were all puffy. She lost a lot of weight. She trusted me enough to share that picture, because I’m her friend.

Me: Wow, that is a lot of trust.

Dale opened his phone to show me the picture and I took the opportunity to enjoy a little break as we scrolled through his Kylie albums, until we found the picture of her without makeup. She looked sad with dark circles around her green eyes. Dale swiped to another picture, this time with a face full of makeup.

Him: This is her after she got better. She was on her way to Coachella. Doesn’t she look like a totally different person?

Me: Yeah, she still has dark circles though.

Him: Well she lost a lot of weight. I saw her for her birthday. She was sad nobody was doing anything special for her, so I asked to take her out. I knew she wanted this one kind of Chanel wallet, so I bought it for her. She was so happy! I was about to get her this one pair of earrings I thought she would like, but I didn’t because I wasn’t sure. Instead I gave her a gift card, and you know what? The next day she sent a picture of herself with that pair of earrings! She’d gotten them for herself with my gift card!

Me: Wow, you really know her well.

Him: It’s because I’ve known her for so long. I know what her sister looks like and her mom, but she won’t let me meet her mom, even though I’ve known her for two years now. Her family doesn’t know what she does, but I know all about her family. It’s kinda crazy to me that I know so much about Kylie. I know every inch of her practically, but I can’t meet her mother. It would probably be weird, because I’m almost her mother’s age. I know how old her mom is because I went all the way back on her Instagram and I saw a picture of her mom holding her as a baby, and I know how old Kylie is, and then did some math. I’m getting old. I’m fifty now! Can you believe it?

Me: Fifty isn’t that old.

Him: How old are your parents?

Me: They’re fifty-seven and fifty-eight.

Him: Kylie’s mom is fifty-two! We’re practically the same age. It’s kinda weird, isn’t it?

I wanted to say that he’s about the same age as my parents’ too, but it was besides the point. Dale’s perception of himself confused me, but I had no intention of having a conversation about it.

Me: Nah, you’re fine.

Him: I’ve bought practically everything in her apartment for her. I even watched her cat one time when she went on vacation. She told me she was worried about finding a cat sitter, and I offered because I already have two cats. My cats are both male and hers is a female, so they were interested in her, but I made sure she had her own tent and kept them apart. Kylie was afraid her kitty wouldn’t adjust, but I put down a little heated blanket for her and she curled up, and was real happy. I already had two cat towers and a litter box upstairs and one downstairs so they wouldn’t have to walk all the way upstairs just to do their business. You wanna see some pictures?

He showed me all of his cat pictures, including pictures of Kylie’s cat. Cat pictures became Kylie pictures, and Kylie pictures turned into pictures of things Dale purchased for Kylie.

Him: You see that vanity?

He opened a picture of a white vanity with a mirror in the middle.

Him: I bought that for her because I found out she was doing her makeup on the floor!

As a person who does my makeup on the floor, I’d like to say that it seems like a matter of preference rather than necessity. I like doing everything on the floor, but that’s just me.

Him: She assembled it and everything. She’s really handy. She’s into DIY stuff. She told me she made something, but she hasn’t told me what it is! It’s such a tease, I can’t imagine what she might have come up with.

Initially I enjoyed hearing about all of the details of Kylie’s life, but after the second hour listening to Dale prattle on, I felt my mood taking a stark downturn. I get it. I have my own regulars who are similarly obsessed with me, and I’m sure bore they shit out of other girls they take for dances, talking about my idiosyncrasies, but it is truly exhausting after a while.

Him: Kylie’s in college studying music. She’s been modeling too, and acting. She’s really creative.

Me: Does she sing well?

Him: She has a beautiful voice! It’s just as beautiful as she is.

He paused for a moment to think.

Him: I should stop talking about her. I know it’s probably boring to you.

Me: Yeah, maybe let’s talk about something else.

I felt a little cruel for telling him not to talk about her, because it seemed she truly was his whole world. When he woke up he thought about Kylie, and when he went to sleep his last thought was likely about her. In between he had his cats, his ailing mother, and an injury that still kept him in too much pain to work.

Him: I’m just lonely. That’s why I come here so much, because it feels good and I get to do this.

Me: Have you tried dating?

Him: I don’t want to date. I’m already in a relationship.

Me: With Kylie?

Him: Yeah. Well, I’m her special friend. We aren’t really dating. I’m just helping her because she really needs the help.

His phone went off.

Him: Wow, just as I was thinking of her she messaged me! I still have her under her old name, just in case she messages me, I don’t want anybody thinking the wrong thing. She didn’t always go by Kylie.

Me: What did she go by before?

Him: Mercedes. Because she drives a Mercedes, I think.

Me: Mercedes are expensive.

Him: It’s an older Mercedes, 2010 I think.

Me: That’s still expensive.

Him: She’s supporting herself and her pets. She has her cat and two dogs. Her mom doesn’t help her out at all, and her dad-- well I don’t know much about him. It’s just me supporting her.

Me: Wow, three pets is a lot to have when you have money trouble. It sounds like Kylie has a pretty expensive lifestyle. Maybe she wouldn’t have so much money trouble if she downsized a little.

Him: Maybe.

This woman had him running through his budget, and it was incredible how Dale seemed oblivious to the entire situation. It reinforced to me that I could definitely be demanding more, considering I was giving so much more. He was getting a full view of my asshole, he could at least tip me $300 at the end. By the end of dance three, I was utterly exhausted. Every question had somehow managed to pivot to Kylie, and in spite of my love for all scamming hoes, I started to feel resentment toward her. I had to reign myself back in. It wasn’t Kylie’s fault Dale was irrationally obsessed to this degree. I’m sure she would have felt mortified to know that I now knew every intimate detail of her life. I made sure Dale tipped me every last bill in the little money envelope he had brought, and hugged him goodbye so that I could compose myself enough to talk to the next terrible man.