Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322
They say the oldest profession adapts to anything. Mon Dieu, they were not wrong. Here I am, French as a baguette, running my little ’boutique sensuelle’ on Rue St. Dennis in beautiful Montreal (sweet bebe, you thought I was Parisienne French, didn’t you?). The clients? Well, that’s where it gets…interesting. You see, most of them aren’t human. They’re not even from planet earth.
Take tonight. My appointment, a Xylorian (pronounced “Sy-lor-ee-anne”) named Gleep, looked like a particularly disgruntled pile of amethyst-colored jello. Four eye-stalks, all twitching. He’s from a species that primarily communicates via bioluminescent mucus, which, let me tell you, makes for some truly messy pillow talk. And the smell! Like fermented algae and existential dread, even with the station’s advanced atmospheric scrubbers. But, c’est la vie, Gleep pays in rare crystals, which are currently trending on the galactic market. He also (naturally) leave quite the trail of slime after he cums.
“the oldest profession adapts to anything”
He always makes the same request: to be read passages from ancient Earth poetry, specifically Baudelaire, translated into his own gurgling language. Apparently, it “stimulates his epidermal receptors.” I just nod, try not to gag on the faint, methane-scented air purifier, and mentally calculate the conversion rate of those crystals to a nice, quiet vacation on a Class-M planet with actual sunshine and no sentient gelatinous blobs. You’d think with all this future tech, someone would have invented a universal translator that also filters the smell, no?
And the demands! Another time, a Rigellian diplomat (“Ridge-elle-ee-anne”), all eight of his limbs, wanted me to simulate a zero-gravity tango while cucking him. I nearly floated into the airlock, my poor custom-tailored ‘pleasure-suit’ (which, by the way, chafes terribly on a Tuesday) clinging for dear life. And then there was the sentient energy field from Sector Gamma who just wanted me to “exist in its immediate proximity and express joy.” I swear, sometimes it feels less like seduction and more like advanced performance art therapy.
But here’s the kicker: beneath the scales, the slime, the extra limbs, the quantum-entangled consciousness – they’re all just looking for the same thing. A little connection, a little warmth, a brief escape from the crushing loneliness of existence, and a good old fashioned fuck. However awkward that may be for a human like moi.
Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322
https://phonesexcandy.com/stella/