Toska - noun /ˈtō-skə/ - Russian word roughly translated as sadness, melancholia, lugubriousness. “No single word in English renders all the shades of toska. At its deepest and most painful, it is a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause. At less morbid levels it is a dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning. In particular cases it may be the desire for somebody of something specific, nostalgia, love-sickness.” — Vladimir Nabokov.

Joel Miller was a man of order. He lived by his routine, enjoyed knowing and predicting every single step of his day— After the loss of Sarah, order was the only thing that kept him going forward. His house was clean, empty of memorabilia, well-organized and so far removed from the chaos of having a small child anymore. His job was straight-forward, the owner of a contracting company that was known to be the most efficient in his new home of Jackson, Wyoming, the small town that his brother had dragged him to after he married Maria. 

The town had two twenty-four hours diners, but Joel only ever went to one of them: Sally’s, with the tight booths, greasy food and questionable service — Sally’s was more expensive and situated in the bad side of town, which was good news for Joel: Most people avoided that particular street after certain hours, and the diner was almost always empty when he arrived at precisely 1:45am every Thursday night. He wasn’t a fan of odd numbers, but the walk between his apartment and Sally’s was exactly fifteen minutes long and he never left before he heard his neighbor get home safe from her shift at the bar. So, 1:45am it was. 

Despite the diner’s lack of customers on Thursday nights, Joel wasn’t the only regular. It was him, and a younger man that was always there by the time Joel arrived, in factory clothing and a tired look on his face. His name was Jesse, which Joel knew because he heard the young man talking to Sally and not because he had ever struck conversation with him: Joel wasn’t a conversationalist, had never been, and it had only gotten worse after Sarah. Ellie helped with that, a little, but now she was living with her girlfriend and Joel was left with a silent apartment.

That Thursday night, there was someone else at the diner: A young woman, he’d guess between twenty-five and thirty years old, was sitting next to his booth. Nobody ever sat so close to him, even when there were patrons in the diner that weren’t used to him and his scowling. His usual seat in his usual booth faced her directly, and Joel couldn’t help but frown at the way she was blatantly staring at him from the second he sat down. She was pretty, a round face and doe eyes that made her seem older than she probably was, chest threatening to spill from the black dress she was wearing. He couldn’t see much more of her, hidden away by the table, but it was clear that she wasn’t dressed appropriately for the cold weather of October. 

“What can I get ya, darlin’?” Sally asked, because she always did even though he ordered the same thing every week. “I’m out of waffles, by the way. Waffle maker broke, best I can do is pancake-shaped waffles. Is that alright with you?”

It wasn’t. Joel’s order was a combo of two waffles, a single piece of fried chicken and half a dose of maple syrup — his cholesterol was acting up, and the doctor tsked at him every time he went in for his check-up, but Joel hadn’t been able to gather the courage to switch to something healthier. Sally didn’t do healthy, and he would rather take Atorvastatin than find a new restaurant — and a cup of coffee. 

“Pancakes are fine.” They weren’t, but there wasn’t much he could do. He nodded at Sally, keeping his eyes glued to her face to avoid looking at the new woman’s chest. “Thank you, Sal.” 

“Y’know, when she told me some weirdo called dibs on a specific booth in the middle of the night I thought she was lying.” The young woman said, smiling at him. Her smile was teasing and intrigued, head cocked slightly to the side. “Who the fuck does that?”

“I didn’t call you a weirdo, Joel.” Sally defended herself as she brought his cup of coffee, a fond smile on her lips. “She tried to sit in your booth and I just told her it was reserved.”

“Thank you.” He said to Sally, offering the young woman on the booth opposite to him a small nod before he pulled the battered crossword puzzles booklet from his pocket; there wasn’t much he could tell her anyway, apart from the fact that he liked this booth because his back was always to the wall, it was far away from the bathroom but close enough to the door that most people usually stayed away. 

“So you just… Eat pancakes and do puzzles every night?” It took Joel a moment to realize she was still talking to him, already entertained by the scramble puzzle he’d started the night before. The man looked up, finding nothing but genuine curiosity in her face. 

“I don’t eat pancakes.” Joel replied. At first it had been hard to look away from her cleavage, but her eyes were just as pretty, warm and inviting, and he found himself quite willing to hold her gaze. “I have waffles with fried chicken once a week. Waffle maker’s broken.”

“Gonna clog up your arteries.” She said, shoveling a handful of her fries into her mouth. He gave a pointed look at the large portion laid in front of her, but she didn’t seem one bit concerned.

“I exercise.” He didn’t, not really, but his job was so demanding on his body that Joel figured it counted as a work out. 

“Sure you do.”

Her tone wasn’t cruel at all, just teasing in the same way she’d called him a weirdo, but Joel still felt self-conscious about the softness of his stomach, rounder than it had been in his younger years. Something must’ve shown on his face, because hers softened immediately, regret splashed all over. There was a brief hesitation on her part before she stood up, shuffling to take a seat across from him, her fries and Diet Coke in hands. Joel closed his puzzle book out of politeness, though he wanted nothing more than to tell her to scram. 

Sally came with his food, and he took the distraction of scowling at his pancakes to keep his eyes away from the woman across from him. He ate slowly, in silence, feeling the woman’s eyes burning on him. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable exactly, but the way she analysed him made Joel want to jump out of his skin. 

“How much would you pay for me?”

His eyes flitted towards her momentarily before he scowled back at his half-eaten pancakes. “What?”

“To fuck me. How much would you pay?”

That had him snapping his full attention to her. She looked a little nervous, her bottom lip worried between her teeth, but she was serious. He blinked, opening his mouth before closing it again. She shifted under his gaze, and the way she leaned forward on the table had his eyes dragging back to her breasts— From up close he could see the way her skin glimmered with some sort of golden dust, smeared on her eyelids and her chest.

“I’m pretty sure you’re the one that’s supposed to name your price, dalin’.”

“Call it market research.” She said, shrugging. “I tried Googling it, but that wasn’t very helpful. How about… Like, eighty bucks? That gives you room to haggle, right?”

Joel turned back to his pancakes, shoveling them into his mouth at a brisk pace. By God, all he wanted was a quiet night with his fucking waffles and his goddamned puzzle book. 

“You shouldn’t have sex with men that haggle.” He responded at last, when the silence was finally too much for him to bear. “And you shouldn’t have a fixed price like that, it shouldn’t be a free for all. Gotta charge more for shit that… Demands more.”

She cocked her head, eyes glimmering as she looked him over. “So you want some kinky shit, is that it?”

“Ain’t gon’ sleep with you. Just givin’ some business advice.” Joel pointed with his fork at Jesse, who sat at the counter and was clearly very interested in their conversation even if he was pretending not to listen in. “Go proposition him. I’m too old f’you.”

“Don’t want him. Young men have too much stamina, I want someone that won’t last too long.” The woman shrugged, dipping a fry into his maple syrup before she continued speaking. “Plus, he doesn’t seem like the type to be into fat women. You, on the other hand,” She pointed at him with the fry “Seems like the type to come just from having a heavy girl sitting on your face.”  

Joel’s fork clattered against his plate a little too harshly. Jesse snickered, but turned his back to them when Joel turned his scowl to him. The young woman didn’t look away from Joel’s face, a feral smile on her lips. He could feel his face heating up, burning in a way it hadn’t in so long. Joel hated the way she had, somehow, read so deeply into him without much of a conversation. He shoveled the last piece of chicken into his mouth, threw the money on the table — far more than what his bill would actually be, but by that point he didn’t even care about it — and walked out of the diner without another word. 

Joel had walked three blocks before he realized he’d forgotten his puzzle book on the table. 

She was there the following week too. Joel would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought of her, of the way her skin glimmered and the filthy image she’d put in his head. Of the way she’d made fun of him. Of her kind eyes and teasing smile. Still, the only reason he allowed himself to think of her was because he hadn’t expected to meet her again. Jackson was a small town, yes, but it wasn’t as if Joel frequented places where one might find a young sex worker— He’d been living there for nearly two years, and had never seen her around before. And yet, the next Thursday at 1:45am, she was there again, sitting in the same booth she’d been the week prior. 

The smile the woman gave him when he spotted him cross the front door was blinding. He was taken aback by it, the way her face lit up as if she, too, had been thinking about their last encounter throughout the week. 

“Joelie! You came back!” She welcomed him. Joel walked past her booth without a word, sat down at his usual seat, and pulled the new crossword puzzle out of his back pocket. He hated to start a new booklet without completing his previous one, but Sally had told him she hadn’t found the one he’d forgotten when he called the next morning. 

The young woman moved from her booth to his without a second of hesitation, sliding into the seat across from him as if she belonged there. Joel tried not to look in her direction, he really did, but his eyes were drawn to her figure the moment she stood up, baby pink tennis skirt swooshing against her pillowy thighs, the band of it accentuating her hip-to-waist ratio while still clinging to the soft roundness of her stomach— Her shirt was white this time, the neckline a little higher than the one from the week before but still stretched thin across her chest. 

Joel turned to face Sally when she came in to take his order, mouth open to share the rehearsed pleasantries they did every week, but the young woman spoke before he could:

“Joelie here will have the waffles with fried chicken and syrup. Coffee too, black like his soul.” The stranger offered him a toothy grin. “A slice of raspberry cheesecake and a Dr. Pepper for me, please.”

“That ain’t my name.” He said, cracking the spine of the flimsy booklet before opening it on the very first puzzle. Sally walked away from them with a small smile on her lips and a curiosity behind her eyes that Joel did his very best to ignore. “I haven’t told you my name.”

“It’s Joel, I know. Heard Sally call you that last week. Are you not going to ask me what’s mine?”

“No.”

The girl across from him sighed, pulled her bag open and threw a puzzle book across the table. His puzzle book, Joel belatedly realized, the one he’d forgotten at the table, the one Sally swore she couldn’t find anywhere. He stared at it for a long moment.

“What’s your name, kid?”

The girl hummed, fingers toying with the golden bracelet on her arm, a delicate string of white and yellow enamel daisies wrapped around her wrist. “Daisy.”

“That’s your real name?”

“Does it matter?”

Joel switched books, pocketing the new one and reopening the one from the week before, only to notice Daisy had completed every single one of the ‘find the difference’ picture puzzles— the ones Joel always did last, because he didn’t find them nearly as interesting as the rest. 

“You did my puzzles.”

“Only the fun ones.” She shrugged. “Had some time off.”

“Slow week at work?”

“Slow life, I guess.”

He nodded. Joel understood slow. It was why he’d moved to Jackson after all, not only to run away from the memories of Sarah’s death but also because life had a different pace than what it had been back in Austin. Calmer. Joel needed that— The woman’s tone seemed to disagree to that being a good thing, something which Joel figured might be related to her young age. Joel had never been able to have a slow life, becoming a single father when he was barely old enough to take care of himself while having to look after his racketeer of a young brother. The slowness of the fifteen years since Sarah’s passing didn’t count in his book: The limbo he’d been in wasn’t slow as much as it was soul-consuming and torturing. Jackson had helped with that, but it was Ellie that had truly brought him back to life.

They fall silent, Daisy staring at Joel as he did his crossword, trying his best to pretend that he didn’t feel her eyes on him. He only stopped to eat, placing the book to the side once Sally came back with their food. The silence between them isn’t uncomfortable to him, who was used to going long stretches of time without a sound, but the woman shifted in her seat twice and Joel took pity at the way she kept opening and closing her lips, visibly searching for something to fill in the empty space.

“Did my business advice help?”

“Oh yeah.” The way her smile broadened immediately twisted Joel’s stomach, unsure if she was happy about the advice itself or for the fact that he had broken the silence first. “Didn’t fuck anyone that tried to haggle. Which happens a lot, by the way. Who knew men could be so cheap with their prostitutes? I even made a little Excel spreadsheet with how much I’m charging for each activity, like you said. I thought about laminating it, but then if the cops get me it’s incriminating evidence, right? If it’s not laminated I can just, I don’t know, shove it into my mouth before they can read it.”

Joel’s lips turn into the ghost of a smile at how excited she sounded, digging through her bag once more before pulling out a sheet of paper. The whole situation is absurd, but if he was being completely honest with himself, Joel hadn’t expected the girl to mean it until she pushed the neatly made spreadsheet towards him; a part of him had thought it might be a joke, some lame prank this kid was pulling on him, but the moment his eyes land on the paper is when he noticed she actually meant it. The words ‘Daisy’s Price Range’ written at the top, followed by a small list of activities— The first one is labeled as ‘Oral (giving; no facefucking.)’ and Joel forced himself to turn the paper upside down on the table, utterly refusing to look at it for a second longer.

“Why?” He asked. 

The girl cocked her head to the side, visibly confused. “You told me to diversify my price range.” 

“Why are you doin’ this to yourself?”

She took a bite out of her cheesecake, chewing slower than he’d seen her do before. Stalling. 

“I need the money and I like sex.” The words sounded hollow, rehearsed. It didn’t take a genius to know she was lying, at least partially. 

“Get a waitressin’ job.” Joel looked around them, Sally notably absent, tending to another table on the other side of the room. “Sally could use the help durin’ the daytime.”

Daisy visibly recoiled at his words; she’d been nothing but open and warm to him, and the difference between her stance before and the way her shoulders curled into themselves was stark. The smile slid off of her face, hair falling over her face as she stared down at her food. There was something uncurling over the sliver of her expression that was still visible, hurt and angry. 

“You know, you didn’t seem like a judging asshole at first. Guess I was fucking wrong.”

“I’m not— Ain’t nobody judging you, kid.” Joel shook his head. His waffles had gone cold and soggy, and much like the ugly weight that settled on his chest. “Just sayin’, you look like a good girl. And you’re clearly over ya head here.” 

“Well, you clearly don’t know anything about me, Joel.” With that, Daisy stood up and stalked out of the dinner with her head held high, but her shoulders hunched forward. She didn’t pay for her food, didn’t even finish her soda. Joel asked Sally to add it to his check with a sigh, hesitating only for a brief second before he shoved her forgotten spreadsheet on the pocket of his coat.

The girl was absent from the diner for the next two weeks, and Joel hated himself for actually missing her. It wasn’t just the thinking about her that infuriated him, nearly breaking his thumb at work after an accident involving a hammer and his thoughts drifting to the hurt look she’d given him — Tommy had laughed his ass off for hours at Joel’s clumsiness, despite the shadow of concern in his brown eyes — but the fact that he felt really fucking guilty for hurting her, even if it was just with his words. After fifteen days of not seeing her, Joel even considered going to Sally’s on a different day just to improve his chances of running into her, but the idea of messing up his schedule turned his insides to mush before he could step outside his apartment. 

By day twenty-one, Joel finally gathered the courage to pull the spreadsheet from the pocket of his carhartt coat. He looked at every single item with dread on his stomach, knowing her price was too low— Joel hadn’t been with anyone since way before moving to Jackson, but most of the people in his bed since Sarah’s death had been the ones he paid for. Daisy had priced herself way too low in his opinion, especially for a girl as pretty as he found her to be. So, in a fit of madness, he took a red pen to paper, correcting her prices to what he thought might be fair. 

He’d given up hope by the time she showed up at the diner. The girl was sitting at the counter, her back turned to his booth, Jesse sitting about four seats away from her; she had a short red dress on, tighter than anything he’d ever seen her in, high heels clacking where she rhythmically hit her toe against the counter. With her head lowered to the steaming coffee mug in front of her, Joel might’ve missed Daisy entirely if he hadn’t been actively looking for her.

That night, for the first time in two years, Joel doesn’t sit at his table. 

Daisy’s entire body stiffened when he took a seat at the stool next to her, and although he hadn’t looked at anyone else other than Sally, he could tell even Jesse was staring at him. He ordered his usual, because there were only so many steps of his routine that he was willing to break, alongside a slice of cheesecake for the girl. 

“I’m not hungry.” 

“You didn’t finish your slice last time.” Joel said, taking a sip of his coffee and keeping his eyes firmly ahead of him. “Didn’t even pay for it, by the way.”

“I’m not paying for this one either.”

“Just eat the fuckin’ cheesecake, kid.” 

She did as he told her, taking small bites of the chocolate cheesecake Sally had picked for her — a slice almost twice as big as the usual —, her face still downcast. Joel ate in silence by her side, the paper burning a hole in his pocket. He sighed, unsure of how to restart their conversations. The silence was heavy, uncomfortable. Filled with energy and static; usually Joel wouldn’t mind, always willing to let people stew if it meant he didn’t have to talk, but he found himself unable to concentrate on his puzzles.  

“Kid, I really wasn’t trying to judg—”

“Fuck off.” 

“Okay.” Joel pulled the spreadsheet out of his pocket and placed it next to her plate. “Your prices were shit. Sellin’ yourself way too short. Fixed ‘em for you.” 

Daisy stared at the folded paper between them like it was a bomb. Joel found himself stuck to his seat, torn between bolting out of the diner and waiting for her reaction. 

“What’s your cut?” Daisy asked at last, doe eyes skimming over the crossed out numbers. 

“I beg your pardon?”

“You’re trying to pimp me, aren’t you? That’s what this is all about?”

Joel jumped out of his seat, his body reacting before he could command it to do anything. Jesse sputtered and tried to hide it behind his fist when Joel turned to glare at him. He refused to make eye contact with Sally, whom Joel was certain was also listening in on their conversation.

“No! Fuck— No, girlie, what— No.” He shook his head for good measure, hands shoved inside the pockets of his carhartt so she couldn’t see the way they trembled. “Just lookin’ out f’you, that’s all.”

She looked at him for a long time, her face devoid of any emotion, her eyes scanning over his face. Joel shifted from one foot to the other, scowling at her. 

“If either of you bolt without paying again, I’m calling the cops.” Sally piped up, but there was an amused grin on her face. It was enough to snap the tension that had settled over them, and Joel broke the eye contact with the girl as he pretended to search for his wallet — he knew it was in the left back pocket of his jeans, just like it had been for the past fifty years —, placing the crisp bills on the counter. 

“I’m only paying for my coffee.” The girl said. “I didn’t order the cheesecake.”

“Brat.” Joel grumbled under his breath, but he still set enough money on the counter to cover the cheesecake and her coffee. With his entire face on fire and dread twisted into his stomach, Joel turned on his heels and bolted out of the dinner. 

It almost felt like tradition at that point, one of them pulling away from an unfinished conversation, running away before they could properly talk about anything other than trading offenses and humiliation. This, this was why Joel never spoke to people. He always managed to shove his foot in his mouth somehow, always making a damn fool of himself. With Tommy and Ellie, it was easier: They understood him, could read between his actions and his silences. 

This time, the girl followed him. He didn’t notice it until she called his name about half a block away from Sally’s, her heels click-claking on the pavement as she forced her short legs to catch up to his longer strides. Joel froze, hands shoved deep inside his pockets, shoulders raised up to his ears. 

“Why?”

He blinked. “Why what?”

“You said you’re looking out for me. Why? Nobody does that. Not for strangers, and sure as hell not for a hooker, not unless they want something in return.”

Joel grunted, unsure of how to answer. He wasn’t sure why he’d done it— Maybe it was the paternal instinct that had been buried inside him since he was a child, taking care of Tommy as if he was his own. Maybe it was some remnants of Sarah, or maybe it was something that had been awakened with Ellie. 

The answer hit him like a freight train: Joel needed to take care of someone. He’d done it with Tommy, and then Sarah, and then Ellie. And now, Tommy was in his forties, Sarah was gone and Ellie was an adult. He had no one to depend on him, no one to cradle and hold and keep safe. 

“You look like you need someone in your corner.” He answered at last. It was partially true, certainly easier than vomiting all the trauma and daddy issues that bubbled behind his chest. “Don’t know what yer doin’.” 

Joel wondered for a brief second if she’d be offended by that. Most people didn’t like being told they were incompetent, he’d learned that the hard way. Instead, she surprised him, shoulders slumping and the spreadsheet crinkling in her hand. 

“I haven’t done it yet.” Daisy told him, the words hanging heavily between them. “Didn’t sleep with anyone for money. Just… Some blowjobs and stuff. Haven’t gathered the courage to do it I guess.”

She let out a watery laugh, skimpy dress making her shiver in the cold night. Joel took his jacket off without thinking, offering it silently to her. Daisy’s bottom lip wobbled as she took the jacket, wrapping it around herself and holding it tightly against her front as if it could shield her away from the confession.

“Do you know why I chose you that first day?” She asked when he didn’t offer a verbal response. Joel grunted again, his eyes falling to the ground, unable to stare at her face any longer. “You made me feel safe. You’re… Solid. Big in a way that’s really fucking intimidating, but your eyes are kind. I figured… Figured that you’d be gentle. A good option for a first client, I guess— Picking someone I’d sleep with for free and whatnot.”

To say that Joel was floored was an understatement. He blinked, mouth opening and closing like a fish; the seconds stretched between them, and Joel barely noticed how uncomfortable Daisy grew as he tried to react. She opened her mouth, but Joel broke the silence first, afraid of whether she’d double down on her statement or take it back entirely: He wasn’t sure which one would be worse. 

“ ‘M too old f’you.”

“Hasn’t stopped me before.” Daisy shrugged. She looked awfully pretty wrapped around his jacket, doe eyes blinking up at him. “Do you not want me?”

Joel knew the answer to that. He also knew it was the opposite of what he should say. He should tell the girl that no, he didn’t. She was too young, too full of life, too innocent to be wrapped up around a man like him— Old, broken, alone. Inept. Joel opened his mouth to stammer a reply, to deny the bubbling of want and need that threatened to burst through his chest, but he had always been a goddamned awful liar. 

“I can’t.” He settled for instead, which was the truth, but also not the answer to her question at all. “You’re— You’re young, and I’m— I can’t, Daisy. ‘M not gonna use you like that.”

Seemingly emboldened by his non-answer, the girl took a step forward, a delicate hand on his sternum, head tilted backwards to stare up at him. Joel could smell her perfume, could feel the softness of her stomach as it brushed against him, the swell of her breasts pressing to his chest between her hands. He balled his hands into fists, not trusting them to not fall to her waist. 

“You want me.” She said, a toothy little smile on her face. “You wouldn’t be using me. Quite the opposite, really. I want to trust you with this.”

“You shouldn’t— You can’t— Don’t go trustin’ strange men, kid. Not even me.”

“I usually don’t. But I’m also a good judge of character. My first john can’t be a friend, Joel. That kind of defeats the purpose, doesn’t it?” The girl licked her lips, clearly a nervous habit, and Joel hated himself for how long it took to drag his eyes away from her face. “If you really don’t want to do this, I won’t pressure you into anything. But if you do, there’s nothing wrong with wanting me. We’re both consenting adults, aren’t we?” 

Joel wasn’t sure why he hesitated. He’d been with prostitutes before, had almost exclusively paid for all of his encounters since Sarah’s mother left— It was easier and cheaper than a relationship, nothing to prove to himself or the other person, nothing to get complicated or anyone to disappoint. There was no real human connection, nothing more than a transaction. Joel could do that. He could. 

So, why did he find himself hesitating?

“My apartment’s two blocks away.” 

The girl’s smile was blinding. “Lead the way, sir.”

He wasn’t the type of person to get self-conscious about his material possessions. Joel wasn’t frugal by any means, he didn’t mind spending money, but he wasn’t the type to spend mindlessly either: His clothes were worn down and molded to shape his body, the furniture inside his apartment a couple of decades old— The stuff that survived the move, anyway. The place was small but not cramped, big enough for him and Ellie when he bought it two years ago that now felt too empty without her loud presence. Despite how clean and organized it was, he still felt a little shy as the girl’s eyes took in her surroundings; she looked just as nervous, if not more, and Joel was ready to call the whole thing off. But then, she squared her shoulders, threw her purse on his couch, and pounced. 

Her lips crashed onto his with hunger, small hands pulling his flannel from where it’d been tucked inside his jeans. Joel shook his head, breaking the kiss, hands gripping her hips. Her mouth tasted of cheesecake, lips soft but a little cold against his. The girl shook off his coat and her purse mid-kiss, throwing both items to the ground without care and the thought of a messy living room was enough to pull his mouth away from hers.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to kiss.”

“Call it a freebie.” Her fingers looped on his waistband and pulled him towards the couch, the girl’s eyes burning bright with the sort of desire that he’d never expect from a sex worker. 

“Bedroom. Ain’t gon’ fuck you on the couch.” Joel kissed down her neck, beard rubbing against the glitter on her skin, her pulse beating wildly underneath his lips— Truth was, he was more likely to throw his back out than get her to come if they ended up on his couch, so he was quick to tug her towards his bedroom, the girl yanking her shoes off in the process. 

“I got— Woomph—” The air escaped her lungs as he pushed her onto the bed, a manic grin on her lips as she sprawled across it. “Lube and condoms in my bag.” 

“Got condoms on the side drawer, and we ain’t gon’ need lube, kiddo.” Joel toppled over her, his thighs pushing hers to spread for him. “Gon’ get you nice and wet f’me.” 

He pushed her dress up her thighs, bunching it just above her waist. Joel leaned back for a moment, putting his weight on one hand as he ran his fingers over the edge of her panties, the red color matching the dress and contrasting beautifully against her skin, digging into the plushness of her hips. Joel ran a finger over the waistband, enthralled in the way her skin erupted into goosebumps at the small touch; he wanted to kiss her again, to feel the girl’s soft lips and the aftertaste of her cheesecake until she begged for him, but he wasn’t sure he was allowed to. She’d called the first kiss a ‘freebie’, whatever the fuck that meant, and Joel wasn’t about to step over her boundaries. He settled for pressing his open mouth to the soft skin of her neck, desire settling low on his stomach when her hands raked over his hair, little gasps falling from her mouth when she pushed her hips against his denim. 

The finger dragging over her underwear dipped lower, pressing against her core over the thin cloth. She wiggled, hands flying to the sides of her panties. Joel slapped her hand away before she could take it off: He wanted her drenching, the gusset dark with her arousal before he finally pulled it off.

“Take your dress off.” He ordered, pushing back to kneel on the bed.

“Yes, sir.” She giggled, shifting to pull it over her head. The way her breasts jiggled at the movement had Joel’s mouth watering and he leaned down to press open kisses to the swell of her breasts, nipping at the skin as his hand sneaked between the girl and the mattress to pop her bra open. 

“Not sir.” He rolled his tongue over one nipple, kneading the other, the red bra discarded somewhere beyond his shoulder. “Try again.”

The girl picked up on it instantly, a large grin spreading over her lips— An honest one, toothy and excited, nothing like the sultry smiles and eyelash batting he was used to from the sex workers he’d been with. 

“Please, daddy.” She ground her pussy against his crotch, head thrown back against the pillow. “Please fuck me.”

“Good girl.” Joel mumbled against her skin, trading one nipple for another. He snuck a hand back to her pussy, fingers sliding easily against her slick folds. “Wanna taste ya. Will you let me, pretty girl?”

Her nails raked through his hair, sending a shudder down his spine. Just as he lowered his mouth to her sternum, the girl frowned. “Wait— Shouldn’t I be the one going down on you? This is supposed to be about you, not me.” 

Joel ran his nose down her stomach, nipping at the softness of her navel. He wanted to bite her a little more harshly, wanted to mark her as his, but he knew he couldn’t— She wasn’t his, would never be. 

“Trust me, kiddo. This is about me.” Joel pressed his nose against her clit and inhaled; she smelled heady and mouthwatering, her underwear darkened by her arousal, the gusset drenched just like he wanted her. “So wet f’me already. Can I eat your pretty pussy, sweetheart?”

She nodded, bottom lip trapped between her teeth. Joel tugged the side of her panties, snapping it against her hip. 

“Use your words, baby.”

The girl only hesitated for half a second. “Please eat my pussy, daddy.”

“Such nice manners.” Joel grinned, pulling her underwear down her thighs, shoving it into his back pocket. Part of him hoped she wouldn’t notice her panties were gone, but damn if he wasn’t willing to pay to keep them.

Joel buried his face between her legs like a man starved. He ran the flat of his tongue from her entrance up to her clit, nose pushing against her skin, lost in her taste. The girl’s thighs snapped against his ears, and he used his hands to pry her open again, one knee over his shoulder, the other spread to his side. Joel pushed his middle and index fingers into her tight heat, groaning against her skin at how tight she felt, sucking him in; he worked his fingers in tandem with his tongue, circling around her clit, dipping down until the tip of his tongue touched the place where his fingers disappeared inside her.

Her moans were a crescendo of breathy sighs, each louder than the other, her spine curved and hand pressing his head closer to where she wanted him. She looked and sounded like a porn star, and Joel was experienced enough to know she was putting on a show. He leaned back, beard and mustache wet with her slick, slightly out of breath, and then slapped hard against her clit. The girl jolted, a cheeky grin spreading over her lips, the heel of her foot knocking against his back. 

“Nona’ that fake shit with me.” He growled. “If ya ain’t enjoyin’ it, you tell me how ya like it.” 

“I like it, I do, I do, please daddy—” She bucked up, her hips trying to chase Joel’s mouth, but he remained stoic, staring up at her. The girl’s face went red, and she bit her lip before averting her eyes to the ceiling. “Maybe… Maybe suck a little?”

Joel did as he was told, crooking his fingers inside of her as he sucked her clit into his mouth. The girl buckled against him, tugging hard on his hair, and the keening sound that escaped her was enough to make him weak in the knees. 

“There we go. That’s more like it, isn’t it, pretty girl?” Joel cooed, eyes glued to her. His own hips rutted against the mattress as he lapped at her, fingers pumping in tandem with his own thrusts, the friction of his jeans making Joel groan against her skin. His ring finger teased at her entrance, wet and warm all over, and she clenched around him. “Think you can handle another one?”

The girl nodded, and Joel nipped his teeth against the soft skin of her inner thigh. “Words, kiddo.”

“I can handle it daddy, please.”

She was tight when he pushed his third finger inside, tight enough to drive him just a little mad at the thought of how she’d feel around his cock; Joel kept his fingers crooked, pulling them in and out as he gave one sharp suck to her clit. 

The girl was immediately gone, a high pitched moan falling from her mouth as she grinded her cunt against his face, fluttering around his digits. Joel kept her grounded through her orgasm, with kitten licks and a slow pump of his fingers, her moans turning into sobs as her legs shook around his ears. 

Joel hadn’t come in his pants since he was a teenager; even then, he could only really recall one time it’d happened, and how fucking mortified he’d felt even back then. He whined against her cunt, the vibration sending a wave of aftershock through the girl that had her moaning above him and smacking her knee to his temple— It didn’t matter much, Joel’s hips pressing down onto the mattress as he came, her cunt still pressed on his tongue, fingers still buried inside. He took in a ragged breath, nose pressed to her folds, limbs feeling like jelly. 

The girl tugged on his hair, pulling him upwards, her mouth searching for his. Joel kissed her deep and slow, hands running up her ribcage, trying to keep the wetness of his jeans away from her. Her fingers trailed down his soft stomach, searching for the waistband of his pants, and he stopped her with a firm grip to her wrist. 

“Let me suck your cock, daddy.” She asked, voice dripping with saccharine sweetness. Joel buried his face on the crook of her neck, laughter rumbling through his chest.

“You gon’ hafta give me forty minutes for that, darlin’.” 

“What? Did you—?” She wiggled, craning her neck to look at the space between them. “Holy shit, did you come just from eating me out?”

He groaned against her skin before finally rolling off to the side, arm slung over his chest. “Told ya I liked it.”

“Most guys say that but are full of shit.” The girl giggled. With his eyes closed, he doesn’t notice the way she shifts down on the bed, and nearly jolted out of the bed when he felt her warm tongue running over the wet patch on his denim. “I’m flattered, really. Don’t think that’s happened to me before.”

“Me neither.” Joel felt the stir of desire rumbling on his lower stomach, one eye creaking open to watch the way she nozzled his crotch, but he knew there was no way he would be getting hard again any time soon. “I should go change outta these pants.”

She nodded, and then bit down her bottom lip. “Do you… Do you want me to go?”

“No. Please— Please stay.” He pressed a kiss to her temple, legs swung over the bed. “I ain’t done with you yet, kiddo. Just… Need a minute before the second round.” 

The girl threw herself back on the bed, body languidly stretched out as she nestled on his comforter, looking like a renaissance painting. She seemed entirely at ease in his bed, like she belonged by his side. He walked slowly into the ensuite, not wanting to take his eyes away from her, a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt in hands. 

The bottle of little blue pills had been a gag gift from Tommy on his 60th birthday— Joel had only taken one, out of pure curiosity, and he’d been hard for hours afterwards without anyone to alleviate it beyond his own hand. Without thinking, he plucked one from the bottle and shoved it into his mouth, using tap water to swallow it down before he cleaned himself up and changed his clothes. By the time he stepped out of the bathroom, the girl had rolled over on her stomach, ass up in the air as she rummaged through his bedside table’s drawers. He found himself so enthralled by the shape of her plush ass, still damp pussy peaking through her legs that Joel couldn’t find it in himself to care that she’d been snooping through his things. 

“If you wanted to rob me, you shoulda gone for my wallet instead.” 

“I was just curious about you.” She offered him a sheepish grin. “Trying to figure out if I was going to find a hidden wedding ring somewhere.” 

Joel slid into bed next to her, throwing the comforter over both of their bodies. The girl rolled to his side naturally, her head on his chest; it felt awfully domestic, the sort of hold one would share with a lover rather than a professional. 

“No spouse, I can tell you that.” Joel tried to stop himself, he really did, but her head was right there and he couldn’t avoid the way his nose buried on top of her head, breathing in the smell of her hair. “Although my brother does have a tendency to barge into my home unannounced.” 

“I’ll make sure to avoid walking around naked, then.”

“Too bad.” He snickered. She pressed a kiss to his neck, and Joel could feel her grin against his skin.

“I did find the XL condoms, though.”  

“Told ya we wouldn’t need the ones you brought.” 

They fell into a comfortable silence, the girl breathing softly against Joel’s neck as he rubbed small circles against her arm. He couldn’t remember the last time he'd held a woman like that, simply enjoying the company of one another— It might’ve been Sarah’s mom, if he thought too closely. There had been Tess at some point, but they’d never been romantic with one another, he’d never been soft with her no matter how much he knew she wanted it. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Joel broke the silence first. The girl hummed in agreement, sounding just on the side of sleepy. “Why did you pick the name Daisy? Most women would’ve gone with Cherry, or Roxy or something like that.”

“I think it’s sweet. A little innocent, a little… Dainty. Thought I might need something that made me different, you know? Something that would attract men.”

“It fits you.”

“Can I ask you something?” The girl pressed another kiss to his neck, but didn’t wait for a confirmation on Joel’s part before she barreled on. “Would you have chosen me, if we met on the street while I was working?”

Joel hesitated. He knew the answer instantly, of course, but he mulled over her question anyway, trying to figure out if there was a way he could answer without offending her. In the end, he settled for the truth. 

“No, I wouldn’t. I woulda wanted you, Lord knows I would, but I never woulda approached ya.”

“Because of my age?”

“No. Because you’re… Untainted. Too nice and too trustin’. Too innocent for a cutthroat profession like that.” He could go on. Could explain the guilt that he would carry, the fact that he knew he was a bad man and having something as delicate and perfect as her in his bed only cemented that. Could explain how he’d become addicted, how he could easily see himself falling in love with her. How he would ruin her for it.

“Maybe I’m actually a maneating vixen, and the good girl act was just a ploy to get you in bed.”

“Nah, you ain’t. A maneatin’ vixen never woulda let me fuck her without payin’ upfront.” Joel snorted. She nipped at his neck in disapproval just like he’d done to her thigh before, and it yanked a genuine chuckle out of him. “Let that be a lesson for ya. Cash first, always.” 

“Well then, thank you for the lesson, daddy.” Her tone was teasing, but it was more than enough for the slow stir of desire to rumble on his lower abdomen. “And for the record, you haven’t fucked me yet.” 

“And I plan on fixin’ that right away. Think you got another one in ya, kiddo?” Joel cradled her face, kissing her slow and deep. He wanted to take his time with her, catalogue every single thing that made her tick, memorize every part of her body and every sound she made, but at the same time the ravenous hunger inside of him demanded him to take, and take, and take. 

“Do you, old man?”

“I’ll show ya the old man.” Joel growled, not one bit offended by the remark as he rolled the both of them over the bed so he could crowd over her body. 

His Viagra induced erection hit him like a freight train, Joel feeling all at once painfully hard and leaking through his sweatpants. The girl pushed her hips up, mirth in her eyes as her mouth chased after his. He took one of her breasts in his hand, tugging her nipple as his large palm massaged her, his lips leaving hers to run down her neck. 

“Yer gonna feel so good on my cock, I just know it.” He ground his hips against her core, a rumble echoing through his chest at how hot she felt, her slickness wetting him through his clothes. “Such a tight lil’ pussy, ain’t ever gon’ want to let you go.”

The girl’s hand snuck between them, her breathing just on the side of desperate as she pulled his sweatpants down just enough to pull his cock out; She was entirely nude underneath him, and Joel was awfully glad she hadn’t asked him to remove his own clothing; he’d been fit one, the sort of muscles that one built through hard labor, but those days were long gone. Her fingers wrapped around his length with practiced ease, warm and soft as she jerked him. 

“Fuck, you really weren’t kidding about the extra large condoms, were you?” And then she giggled, as if the mere idea of having someone as big as he was inside her brought her joy. “Never had anyone as big as you.”

And maybe it was all talk, the sort of compliment most sex workers offered that were nothing but lies, but Joel ate it up nonetheless, hips pushing against her hand. 

“I know, babygirl.” He grumbled against her skin, the head of his cock brushing against her clit, sending a jolt of electricity down the both of them. “Gon’ ruin you for everyone else. Nona’ those other men will ever make you feel this good.” 

His cock caught at her entrance in one of his thrusts, and Joel had half the mind to sink into her raw, to fuck her bare and have her dripping with his cum for the rest of the night, but the girl tensed for a split second and, although she hadn’t outright told him to stop, he could tell what she was thinking about. He pushed upwards closer to the nightstand, not wanting to pull away from her warmth for more than it was necessary to fish a condom from the drawer and roll it on. She watched him with hungry eyes, pupils blown wide as the girl stared down at his cock; her desire wasn’t fake, wasn’t something he had bought and Joel could see it clear as day, but by the time he’d aligned his cock back against her cunt, he still needed the reassurance that she wanted him. 

“Tell me you want this.” Joel all but begged, his eyes searching her face for any signs of deception. “Tell me how much you want my cock.”

“I do, I want you, daddy. Please.” The girl planted her feet on the bed and pushed against him, the head of his cock notching against her cunt before her hips fell back on the bed. “Wanted your cock since the first time I saw you, knew you’d be good to me, knew you’d take care of me.”

Joel sunk into her at once, leaning back on his haunches to watch where he disappeared inside her, wet and scorching hot; she was everywhere, surrounding him and enveloping him in a way no one had ever before, and Joel had to sink his fingers into her thighs to keep himself from plowing into her; she wailed at the intrusion, fingers tugging at the bedsheets, ankles locking on his lower back. He waited for the girl to adjust to him, legs trembling as he held himself back, only allowing himself to move when she used her legs to pull him closer. 

He tried to take it slow at first; tried to ease her into it, to thrust slow and deep so she could feel all of him, but the way she sucked him in was maddening, his hips slapping mercilessly against hers, egged on by her moans and pleads, her fingernails digging into his forearms and his biceps, in whichever part of his body that she could reach. 

“Look how good ya takin’ me.” Joel said to her, way past any point of coherency, the words slipping out of his mouth without him really meaning to. “So perfect, takin’ this big cock like yer made for me.”

“Yes, fuck, please—” She keened at a particularly harsh thrust, head rolling back against the pillow. “Fuck, right here.”

“There, baby?” Joel held the angle, his cock stroking over and over the sensitive little patch that had her screaming for him. The girl seemed as incoherent as he felt, chanting a string of yesses and pleases and calling him daddy over and over again. She came first, gushing around his cock and clutching him so tightly that Joel nearly toppled over, his head on the crook of her neck as he pistoned his hips, chasing his own relief. He buried deep inside of her, held himself still as he came, limbs shaking as the power of his orgasm washed over him. 

Joel was still hard. He knew it was because of the pill he’d popped, and he was fairly certain that wasn’t a common side effect and that there was a chance his heart might give out, but in that moment he couldn’t care less whether or not he’d kick the bucket. Instead, he simply rolled onto his back, big hands wrapped around the girl’s hips, pulling her along while still connected so she could straddle him. 

“I thought you came.” She giggled, rolling her hips slowly, testing. “Fuck, you feel even bigger like this.” 

Joel figured he should probably pull out, switch to a clean condom before diving back into her, but her nails scratched at his chest, tits jiggling as she started to grind against him, and the idea of disconnecting himself from her was pure torture. 

“I did.” Joel smiled back, fingers digging into the softness of her love handles. He wanted to pull her down, dictate the pace with his own hands but he forced himself to stay still, watching as she pulled her own pleasure from him. “You look so pretty like this, ridin’ daddy’s cock like— Fuck, like such a good girl. Can you go a lil’ faster for me, babygirl?”

She picked up her pace immediately, bouncing and grinding against him, her hips circling his cock. “So good, daddy. You’re everywhere, I can feel you—” 

Her words were cut off by one of Joel’s hands, thumb pressing against her clit. “Lean down f’me, sweetheart. Want that pretty tit in my mouth.” 

The girl did as she was told, Joel’s mouth immediately finding one of her nipples, one hand still circling her clit while he suckled on her skin. She sank harder down onto him, faster, with no finesse or tempo apart from the desperate need to come, gasping loudly and clawing at whatever part of him that she could find. Her orgasm came faster than the others, walls fluttering around him, the only sound in the room being of her skin slapping against his, her moans higher and higher. 

She slumped against his chest, panting heavily; Joel grabbed back onto her hips, feet planted on the bed and head thrown back as he pushed his hips upwards, fucking up into her with reckless abandon. 

“There you go.” She cooed against his ear. “Come for me, daddy, please, I need it.” 

Joel came hard, grunting as his fingers dug into her soft skin, eyes closed as his entire body tensed. He was extremely sensitive and could tell she was too, her cunt clenching down on him as he came down from the high; the girl rolled off of him, laying like a starfish on the other side of the bed, knees bent and arms spread wide. He struggled to stand up, pulling the condom off and ready to tie it when he noticed it— His own cum leaking out of it, smeared against his cock and his sweatpants like it had just exploded everywhere. 

“God fuckin’ damn it.” He mumbled; Joel tucked himself back into the second pair of pants he’d ruined that night, and showed the condom to her before he threw it in the trashcan near his bed; there was no real need for him to show it apart from the fact that he wanted the girl to know he hadn’t taken it off at any point. “Condom broke.” 

“Couldn’t hold two loads.” She joked, but Joel could see the concern in her eyes as she pushed a hand between her legs. Her fingers came back coated in her slick and his cum, and she only hesitated for a second before putting them in her mouth. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from groaning at the sight. “I’m on birth control, and I’m clean.”

“I’m clean too, hadn’t—” Joel cleaned his throat. “Hadn’t been with anyone in a long time. I’ll still get you plan b in the mornin’ just in case.”

“Does that mean you want me to stay the night?”

He nodded, unable to bear the idea of her getting out of his bed and walking home in the middle of the night, especially not with his spend dripping down her thighs. “Please stay. But uhm, don’t do that with other johns. Don’t fall asleep next to ‘em.”

“Sir yes sir.” She winked, a cheeky grin on her reddened face. 

“I’ll run you a shower.” Joel leaned down, pressing his lips to hers in a chaste kiss. 

“Can you join me?”