Redemption's Kiss

Suddenly, my vision blurred. I could no longer see Beth's beautiful eyes clearly. I could still see the low lights in the room, but Beth's face had become a strange translucent blur. I moaned from the pleasure I was feeling but also from longing, I missed the feeling of seeing Beth in front of me. I blinked a few times, but this just seemed to make the blurring worse. My eyes burned slightly now and the orgasm began to fade faster. I became aware of my body and, more importantly, of my surroundings.

Then I realized what had caused my sudden, partial blinding and the fading afterglow of my orgasm dissipated entirely. Coating my hair, my eyes, my nose, and dribbling into my mouth, was a large, sticky load of Daniel's cum. I felt like ice water had been poured down my back. I could barely feel Beth's quaking body against me. For reasons I couldn't explain, I shuddered when I understood what it was. I had to master myself to prevent myself from getting angry or from rapidly cleaning it off. I suddenly remembered where I was, what I did for a living, and why I had just had that incredibly profound experience.

"Thanks Skye. That was great," Daniel said yawning, his now-limp cock already stuffed back into his pants, "Go ahead and let yourself out." And with that, he started walking to his bedroom, stopping only once to walk down by the door to put money in my pocket.

* * * * *

Less than ten minutes later I was standing in the elevator with Beth next to me, feeling entirely numb. I had cleaned the cum off my face in Daniel's kitchen and then Beth and I had dressed silently. I couldn't understand the feelings that were running through my mind as I did this. I felt butterflies in my stomach but I couldn't tell what caused them. I didn't know if I was feeling something strange for Beth or if I was disgusted somehow by my actions. There weren't any words for what I felt about either of those scenarios and I just felt completely unsettled and confused in a way I had never felt. Not even as my first time. I felt like I couldn't make eye contact with Beth.

"That was a lot of fun," Beth said finally when we stepped onto the elevator together afterwards. I finally managed to look up at her. Her brow was completely un-creased, her smile easy, her manner light. Whatever I was feeling was entirely one sided, it seemed.

"Yes, you're very professional," I said, not sure of what else to say. Usually that would be a major compliment from me, but now it felt hollow and empty.

"It was my first time with a girl, so I was just doing what came natural," she said nonchalantly. I raised my eyebrows.

"First time professionally?" I asked.

"First time ever," she said. I almost believed she was lying, she had moved so smoothly. But something about her manner seemed to indicate that she was unable to lie. Her preternatural innocence was absolutely genuine. I felt a sudden stab of something clawing at my stomach as that thought came to mind.

"Where are you going now?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Back out on the street. I can break my record tonight!" she said, lifting up the wad of cash (fall smaller than my wad, but still sizeable) that Daniel had given her.

"It's cold out there," I said, looking at her clothes.

"I don't mind," she said. I knew I wasn't reaching the source of my concern. Suddenly the correct words rose to my mind.

"It is dangerous out there," I said. Beth was a streetwalker. That was a dangerous profession. I knew that when I first met her. It was why I didn't want anything to do with her. But I was feeling something different now. Something... different. Instinctively, I reached out and pulled the 'emergency stop' button on the elevator. The elevator lurched to a stop and Beth looked at me, concerned.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her mouth opening playfully. My heart was hammering in my chest like a virgin on prom night. My hands were sweaty and my mouth was painfully dry.

"Come with me," I said suddenly, the words coming out honest and scared.

"What?" she asked confused, tilting her head slightly to the side.

"Don't go back out into the cold and the streets. Just come with me. Come to my place. Even if just for the night," I said desperately. Beth laughed slightly.

"Are you paying?" she asked jokingly. I shook my head vehemently.

"No...Not like that," I said, chasing the right words and not sure I was finding them. I didn't even really understand what I was saying. I had this compulsion to speak, this need to get Beth to come with me. I don't even know what I wanted with her. I just wanted to protect her. It felt almost like...I loved her. But that wasn't possible. It was a totally alien emotion. Beth laughed it off.

"First you don't want anything to do with me, then we fuck for Danny, and now you want me to give you freebies. I like you Skye, but you are a crazy chick," she said. She started to reach to push the emergency stop back in. I reached forwards and grabbed her hand, feeling the warmth of her skin underneath of me once again.

"I...you are in the wrong line of work Beth. This is too dangerous for you. You don't even understand the risks you're taking. Let me take care of you. Come home with me," I said, approaching whatever it was that was holding me back. Beth's shoulders fell and she smiled sweetly.

"Oh Skye," she said, nodding, "You are so sweet! But I am fine. I like this job. I am good at it. I don't need you to protect me."

"Please..." I started.

"No Skye, but seriously, thank you," she said. Once again her absolute genuineness shone through in her words. I could tell now that there was nothing I could do or say. She was going back out on the streets, with all her innocence and naïvete. I couldn't stop her. I wasn't even really sure why I wanted to. We stood in silence for a long time. I had no options. There was nothing I could do. Without thought, my hand suddenly reached into my purse. I found what I wasn't even looking for and thrust it quickly out towards Beth.

"Here," I said certainly, "Take my book. Take my clients. Get off the streets. Make more money," I said, saying what I thought it would take to get her to accept my list of Johns. She reached out slowly and grabbed the book, looking at it intently. As the weight of the book passed from my hands, I felt the butterflies in my stomach stifle. I felt my muscles relax. I felt only the slow ache that I had not achieved my goal. I had not saved Beth, I had just increased the odds of her survival. I also felt a certain freedom for myself. Something I had not expected to feel, or even realized I could feel. I didn't even know I wasn't free.

I did not think then, and I still don't think now, that there was anything inherently degrading about what I did. I performed a service professionally. Sex is as natural as a thousand other things that we sell without second thought and, in the right context, it can probably be a positive experience to sell oneself. Helping someone who is lonely or desperate. At the very least it can be morally neutral. But I realized in that second that that wasn't the situation I was in. That wasn't the way the system I existed in and worked in was set up to function. Prostitution wasn't inherently degrading, but the people I worked for wanted it that way. Most of them didn't want sex or companionship or someone to talk to. Maybe there are Johns like that. But the ones I worked for didn't really get off on those things. They got off on taking something beautiful and dragging it down into the dirt. They wanted to see me wallow in filth because it turned them on that they had the power to do it to me. I had told myself that that wasn't the case, I had convinced myself that I had not allowed myself to be tarnished because I was paid well, I behaved professionally, and I hadn't (really) gotten hooked on anything. But just below the surface, the job had been eating away at me for some time. It had made me tired, jaded, and unhappy. It had, somehow, stolen sex from me. It had converted the magic of sex into a job. Worse, a job I didn't love.

But that night in Daniel's room, I had experienced something. I hadn't expected it. In fact, I had assumed that I was going to be degraded when I first saw Beth. But there was something in her kiss. Something in her open innocence...I can't explain it. She did not realize that Daniel was trying to smear us with his own filth. She liked sex and liked to do it well. She gave me something of herself...for real. It was not an Act. Something inside of me...something that I hadn't even known I had shut off, had instinctively opened to that. My body...my sexuality opened to her even before my mind managed to catch up. And when I saw the good and pure thing that was there, when I felt the actual power of sex, I was able to look at my life in a new way. In the reflection of Beth's innocence (which I had seen so incredibly well when our eyes and pussies locked together), I could see my own degradation. Something had shattered I couldn't do it anymore. If I kept going now...I would be on the street in weeks. That was why I had felt this overwhelming desire to save Beth. I had seen the true nature of our lives and the way her innocence would be broken. I wanted to prevent that from happening. To save her. Now I was only able to save myself.

"Hey thanks!" she said, like a child who had been given a Christmas present, "This will be so much easier!" Then here brow furrowed and she bit her lip, "But...won't you need it?"

"No," I said with a certainty I was surprised I felt, "I'm done." I started the elevator again. I told her how to do what I did. When we got out of the elevator, she was a callgirl and I was out of the life.

* * * * *

I had saved some money and when I decided to quit, I had quit entirely. I had no idea what I was going to do with my life, but I suddenly felt lighter, more innocent. Eventually I got my life in order. I went back to school. I became a freelance writer and eventually a (somewhat) compensated sex writer for an online publication. I went over a year without sex right after I quit, but eventually I was able to return to it. Or maybe I was able to have real sex for the first time in my life. Beth had opened something up, sex had become natural and good in a way I hadn't understood before. Eventually I met a girl and we decided to get married (I'd had enough dicks for one lifetime). My wife knew about my past, but the authorities didn't so there was no problem when I adopted my wife's young son who I loved as my own. I had a family, a job, just a short time after I'd quit my old life.

When I first quit, I thought about Beth every day. I relived every second we had spent together and all the feelings I had felt. For a long while, I believed that I was in love with Beth. That we would be married one day. That faded eventually. I came to realize that I didn't even really know Beth. That whatever connection we had felt was different than love. Maybe more powerful. Or, at least equally powerful. But even as that slow reassessment happened, I thought about her constantly.

At one point I even told my wife about that night. The night I decided I had to stop. I told her about Beth, about the connection we felt. I told her all the things I felt and saw. My wife said I was crazy. Not that I had quit or the things inside that I felt, but she said that I was running on assumptions. She pointed out that I'd barely talked to Beth. I couldn't really say for sure what made her seem so innocent or pure in my eyes. I just knew it. Further, nothing she had actually done had exposed my degradation. As my wife put it, "you got fucked really, really well and it messed with your head. In a good way. But it was all you." I guess that sort of makes sense. I don't know. I can't say for sure now what I felt or why it happened. Maybe it was just seeing Beth's innocence and feeling the way that innocence affected sex that had cut me loose. I know that it felt real, so I guess it doesn't really matter.

Sometimes, late at night, I still think about Beth. I can still see her clearly, even though I had only known her for a couple of hours at most. I can replay every minute of that experience. I know I love my wife and would never leave her for anyone or anything, but a part of my heart will always belong to Beth. I gave her something and she gave me something. I gave her the life and she gave me freedom. I stole a little bit of her light so that I could see. I gave her my book in exchange. And every person in my book would have taken a little of her light afterwards, just to watch it be extinguished. To get a sexual thrill from watching it die. She took my degradation and went back for more and more and more. And so forever there is a nagging feeling in the back of my mind, the small black spot on my soul that is the penance I pay for my former life. I will never get over the guilt I feel for Beth, for my failure to save her. In fact, I know that in saving myself, I made it impossible to save her. I traded the world for innocence, and she had done the opposite. Only one of us, the harder one of us, could walk away from the trade. I have done the best that I can with it. I just hope that someday, somehow, someone will succeed where I had to fail. I hope that before the weight of her degradation breaks her, that someone innocent can set her free.

The End

*****

Note: I honestly write so that I can hear the comments you all give. So please just tell me what you think. Even if it is just a sentence or two (though I always prefer more). Consider that your payment for a free story. And if you like this, I beg you to read my other stories and comment on them too. I know who my loyal readers are and I really appreciate you. Thanks!

YKN

P.S. I do one edit of my work and I try to be thorough. But I figure when it comes to handing out free erotica, you all would be better served getting it fast (if a little rough), than waiting for me to polish it like I was getting paid for my work. Especially on a massive project like this, it took a year to write and could take longer to edit. So, in short, I know there are some errors and I don't really care that much. Don't complain about the soundtrack in your porno, don't sweat the typos in your erotica. Thanks.

YKN