Dream of: 09 June 1999 "Paris Prostitute"

I had arrived in Paris the day before, and had spent the night with a very attractive black-haired prostitute in a hotel. However, we hadn't had sex, or had any intention of having sex. She had slept in her bed and I had slept in mine. We had stayed in the same room because she was one of the girls of a pimp whom I had befriended, and my friend the pimp had allowed me to stay in her room. When the prostitute and I rose in the morning and prepared to leave the room, I felt close to her, as if we had somewhat become friends. Maybe she and I would eventually have sex together. I also thought I would like to ask her how she felt when she had sex with different men, and whether she ever climaxed. I thought if I were to have sex with her, I could last a long time and bring her to climax. I wondered if I would have the chance.

When we walked out of the hotel room we headed straight for the hotel bar, which was dark and crowded. Quite a few women had parked themselves on barstools and in booths, obviously all prostitutes. One particularly homely woman (but with a nice body) caught my attention and I wondered how she could make a living as a prostitute. Someone said her name was Esther.

The prostitute who had spent the night with me disappeared into the crowd. I hoped I would see her later; I didn't want to lose track of her. Someone handed me a small pillow with a pile of jelly beans on them, and I began eating the beans one after another, thinking I'd make myself sick if I ate to many.

Soon I saw my friend the pimp sitting at the end of the bar. He gave me a wide smile as he stood to walk over to me. He was a good-looking black-haired fellow (probably not more than 25 years old). He had a slim figure and a boisterous festive air about him. I was happy to see him and the two of us began a lively conversation in French. Of course I was interested in his business. He pointed to two other attractive women sitting at the bar and told me they also worked for him. We stepped closer to them and they spoke a few words to me in English. I was impressed and said, "And you both speak some English."

When my friend told them I was from Portsmouth, Ohio, they both answered that they had visited Portsmouth before, and that they had found the town interesting. I thought to myself they were just being polite. Portsmouth was far from interesting, especially compared with Paris. I wondered why they had been in Portsmouth in the first place. I figured their visit had probably involved some kind of drug deal, importing drugs into Portsmouth. Sounded intriguing.

My friend also pointed to Esther and said she was in his stable. I asked him how much Esther cost, and he said she was $20. We both burst out laughing at how cheap she was.

I asked him if any customers ever went straight to the girls to contract for services. He said, no, that all the customers came straight to him. In the back of my mind I was still thinking of the possibility of my getting together with the woman from last night, but I didn't say anything.

I was thoroughly enjoying myself. My new-found friend was a pleasure. But I wondered exactly how I had come to be here. I couldn't seem to remember how I had met my friend or anything about my arrival. I was thrilled to be in Paris. But how did I get here?

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