Erotic Escort, oh my forbidden angelMature

I wrote this as a first. I've never attempted to write something like this before.
I see it as the relationship from the view of a client, rather than the escort. I hope that it didn't just seem like it was pure sex, while it was a theme I wanted to express the desire she felt for him, her silent angel.
I might rewrite this, depending on feedback.

It is, with his hand upon my thigh that I feel most happy.
His beauty is androgynous.

In public he smiles, offering me his hand, ever the gentleman.
In private he smirks,
yanking, with no concern for me, my legs open.
Thrusting his head on my bosom,  lavering my body in wild spurts of ecstasy.

On hearing my moans, he changes tact,
thrusting himself inside of my fragile frame.
Screams fill the room,
my screams.

His motion is fast but steady.
Before long I climax,
screams increasing for the slightest moment,
before I fall on the bed, exhausted.

He picked himself up, off me.
Face passive,
not even flushed.
Never does he leave his seed in me, not once.

He has and always will deny me this and one other privilege.
Without a word, he leaves the room,
my house and my life.
I cry with shame and loss,
oh my lover, my friend.

The next morning he returns to me,
his smile making me forget how he left me alone for hours in agony.
Laughter echoes out of me,
I grab the hand he offers me.

Shall we dance M’darling?
I ask shrilly,
he nods to me,
having never said a word,
my voiceless angel.

Opening out my purse,
I empty out its contents,
£250.
It’s enough for the day, but not for the night.

Well all angels come at a price, M’dear.
With the payment done,
I rush forward to him,
we dance, I laugh, he smiles.

The End

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