Sex in Time of Pestilence

(Another tale from the Massage Parlour)

The manner in which I earn my living notwithstanding, I have always considered myself to be a moral person. I would never indulge in shoplifting, I have never stolen from a client who sometimes leaves his purse on the bed whist taking a shower before going back to his wife. I contribute to Oxfam, Earthquake funds and what not. I make a handsome living at the Blue Heaven, although Will and Linda the owners take a sizeable chunk of our earnings. I have been quite sensible in that I have saved much of my income, with the intention of buying a small flat for myself and the boy Adrian, now in his last year of primary school. I felt safe and, in a way, privileged. Men will always pay for sex, and as most people believe that I am in my twenties_ and I don’t disabuse them _ I’ve got at east twenty more years to save for that Bed & Breakfast which I’ve always dreamt of running. For which I have been preparing myself for years. I am an avid watcher of TV cooking and baking programs, and I practise quite a lot. And of course I had a whole year’s experience as a chambermaid in that posh five-star hotel in Manchester. What could go wrong?

A virus.

Nobody has seen it, but its power is incalculable!

The Blue Heaven, following government directives closed until further notice at the beginning of the month. This left me completely dumbfounded. How was I going to make a living? Many girls were in the same boat, but some of my co-workers deftly reorganised themselves…