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I suddenly felt his penis spasm in me, and an after shock ricochetted and rippled through me. And through me. And through me.
He let my legs down and we laid tightly wrapped in each other's arms as he rained little love kisses on my cheeks, on my nose and on my lips. "I don't think either of us has to ask . . ."
I started to giggle, then abruptly stopped as I felt myself expelling his still prominent manhood. I wanted this moment to last forever, except he was heavy. "Let's roll over," I whispered.
Then remembering what he had started to say, I added, "Jack, in all seriousness, I want you to know one thing. I've never been so thoroughly fucked in my entire life!"
"You're not so bad, yourself," he replied, kissing the tip of my nose.
Only later, as I was wrestling with an uneasy conscience while settling down to sleep for what little was left of the night after sending a sleepy baby sitter home, did a phrase I had seen in a magazine pop into my mind. "The Happy Hooker." It described me perfectly.
I never saw Jack again, but my next pay envelope contained, in addition to my now augmented check, three crisp $100 bills clipped together with a brief note: "Balance due."
