MY VIRGINITY FOR A THOUSAND EUROS

Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Inside Allyssa's Thoughts

ALLYSSA’S POINT OF VIEW

I sat in the luxurious chair, unable to take my eyes off the immaculately carpeted floor. The contrast between this opulence and the filth of the cellar I had just left almost made me dizzy. My heart was pounding, but I didn't know if it was fear, shame, joy at the moment of my virginity that I had just lost, or a mixture of all three.

The silence in the jet was heavy, punctuated only by the soft sound of the engine and the ice cubes clinking in the glass Paolo held. He sat in front of me, his gaze fixed on mine as if to analyze me, to dissect me. I felt exposed, like his eyes could read everything I was trying to hide.

Finally, he spoke, his deep voice breaking the silence.

—So, Allyssa… Why? Why did a girl like you end up there, selling herself in a sordid cellar? You are young, beautiful... full of future. And, what's more, you were a virgin.

These last words hit me hard. I wish he wouldn't say them, that he wouldn't emphasize this aspect of my shame. I wanted to disappear, to vanish into thin air, but there was nowhere to go. I looked away, feeling a familiar burn in my throat. Tears threatened to fall, but I refused to cry in front of him. Not now. Not like that.

“Allyssa,” he insisted gently. Talk to me.

I gathered all my courage to answer, but my voice was shaky, almost inaudible.

—I...I had no choice.

I thought he was going to cut me or judge me, but he remained silent, letting me continue. Then the words poured out, raw, chopped up, like an open wound that I had never dared to show.

— My landlord kicked me out. I could no longer pay my rent, so he threw me out with my things. I had nowhere to go, no one to call.

I looked up at him, searching his expression for a sign of understanding. But his features remained calm, impenetrable.

— I stayed on the street all day looking for a job, anything, something that would allow me to survive... Then I saw this ad.

I paused, my hands clenched so tightly my knuckles turned white.

—They said it wasn't really p**********n, just... getting licked. I figured I could handle it. That it was only for an hour, and then maybe I could get my life back.

I didn't realize I was crying until tears were rolling down my cheeks. Paolo placed his glass on the table between us and approached. He sat next to me, so close that I could feel his warmth.

“Look at me,” he said softly.

I looked up, my tears blurring my vision.

“It’s not your fault,” he said firmly. You didn't do anything wrong, Allyssa. This world is hard, even cruel. But you will never have to fight alone again.

His words touched me more than I could have imagined. No one had ever spoken to me like this, with such certainty and compassion. I nodded slowly, but my voice still shook.

—Why are you doing this for me? I asked, my throat tight.

He looked at me, his eyes shining with an intensity I didn't yet understand.

— Because I see something in you, something that you don't see yourself. You deserve a better life, by my side.

I wanted to believe his words, but part of me remained suspicious. After all, no one reaches out for no reason, right? But at that moment, I was too exhausted to doubt, too tired to refuse his help.

As the jet took off, I looked out the window at the city lights fading away. I was no longer that girl on the street, but I also wasn't sure what I was going to become. All I knew was that next to Paolo, I felt for the first time in months a semblance of security. At least for now

And for now, that was enough for me.

The purr of the private jet almost lulled me, gradually dissipating the tension in my muscles. Sitting comfortably in this chair that seemed to cost more than anything I had owned in my life, I found myself breathing more freely. Paolo continued to speak to me, his deep, reassuring voice resonating like a melody. He asked me questions about my life, about my dreams, about what I would have wanted to do if fate had not been so cruel.

Little by little, I relaxed. Despite everything that had just happened, there was something about him, a magnetic aura, that made me lower my defenses. I never thought I could feel comfortable under such circumstances, much less after what had happened in that cellar. Yet here, far from the world, in the air, everything seemed different.

As I shyly answered his questions, Paolo stood up and approached. He sat next to me, so close that his woody scent invaded my senses, reminding me of every caress he had given me in the cellar. A shiver ran through me as his hand gently brushed my cheek. His gesture was slow, calculated, almost protective, but there was also a warmth that disturbed me deeply.

I closed my eyes, unable to move, unable to think about anything but that hand tracing invisible circles on my skin. It was the same caress, the same gentleness that he had used in the cellar. But here, in this intimate environment, far from curious eyes and damp walls, it was different. More intense.

My breath hitched as he moved his hand down to my thigh, his fingers brushing my bare skin where my dress ended. I knew I should push him away, say something, but no words came. My whole body seemed to betray my reason. In addition, my entire slit was wet.

Then he leaned down and placed his lips on mine. Gently at first, almost shyly, as if testing my reaction. But when I didn't pull away, the kiss deepened. His hand on my thigh pressed lightly, and I felt my heart pounding.

I closed my eyes, letting myself be carried away by the sensation. A question crossed my mind, clear and incisive: Why not let him go? After all, wasn’t he the one who already took my virginity?

It was a thought that would have horrified me a few hours earlier. But now...now everything seemed blurry. His lips, his warmth, the way he touched me as if I were fragile and precious, all this melted my resistance.

I remembered that cave, the way he looked at me, like he really saw me. That evening, despite the shame and fear, he had been different. He was not like the other men present. He had taken what he wanted, yes, but he had done it with a strange tenderness, an almost incongruous gentleness. And now, as he continued to kiss me, I felt that same duality in him: the strength of a man who could have it all and the gentleness of someone who wanted to teach me to surrender.

I had never felt this way before. A mixture of fear and envy, shame and excitement. My body seemed to have taken over my reason, and in this suspended moment, in this jet in the sky, I wondered if I was not letting Paolo cross a barrier that I could never rebuild.

And maybe I didn't want it to stop.