And here we have a drabble for Nicole who wanted an escort Klaus. It’ll be more than one drabble and I’d venture to say this part is a bit boring but it’ll get more exciting in part two - assuming I ever get around to writing it.
For Klaus Mikaelson, sex had always been both a pleasure and a tool. It wasn’t arrogance that made him aware of his own immense sex appeal – it was just a fact of his life. In his teenage years Klaus had learned to wield that sex appeal and his own inherent charisma to his best advantage, and in his adult years he made sex his profession. The word gigolo had always sounded rather crass to Klaus and he preferred to be called a male escort. Not that the semantics truly mattered – the way Klaus saw it he was a merchant of carnal pleasures. And the job suited him well. He, of course, couldn’t speak to others in his profession or why they chose it but for Klaus the job could be quite enjoyable. He loved sex. He loved women. He loved bringing them pleasure. He loved when a woman’s body went pliant against his. He loved the sounds each woman made – some primal criers, some soft moaners. He loved the moment when they climaxed, erupting in front of him in the most carnal way.
And so it turned out the world’s oldest profession suited Klaus just fine. It made the notion of relationships a bit untenable but a relationship wasn’t something Klaus had ever been interested in anyway.
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