Sex Worker #4
He pokes at my mouth with a wooden skewer,
“You don’t have any cavities, do you?”
“Insurance pays 80% on white fillings,”
I mumble through the stick.
“They look good. Close please.”
He is not a dentist. He likes teeth.
Teeth and drills and open mouths,
I had passed the test.
We agreed on $250:
My teeth brushed with gold Listerine
I would open my mouth
lie down on the couch
and he would floss me gently
while we watched dental video of drilling.
Dr. Morrow would be so pleased
with me flossing once a week.
Watching drilling video
is surprisingly sexual,
a pretty blonde with dental dam
secured lips open surrounding teeth
squirming and moaning
with the whirring of the tool.
Her eyes flitted side to side
and hands white knuckle gripped.
“Tell me if I hurt you,”
over the drilling from the TV.
The powdery latex pushed my tongue aside;
he forced ribbons between my teeth,
“a girl with wisdom teeth intact,
and they don’t even crowd your bicuspids.”
He continued his work
while I was getting wet.
A cotton ball to swab excess spit
“You’re a juicy one, aren’t you?”
I barely shook my head “yes”.
He was still orally wedged.
I wiped my mouth and collected $250,
and ran my tongue over my plaqueless teeth.