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Contains adult themes, consensual sex. Read at your own risk.
Comments and suggestions welcome. Flames cheerfully ignored.
For personal use only - if you repost, please include this header.
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Note:
I like this one quite a bit; I had several things I wanted to try and
I think it turned out quite well. I find that the "normal length" for
my stories has been getting slightly longer, as I try to add more plot
elements.
I welcome any comments, constructive criticism, and so on. I use anon
mainly keep my net persona and job persona separate, not to stifle
response - if you have any suggestions, story ideas, or questions, feel
free to write.
And finally - this is the eighth story I have written for the net. I
will be writing more as the urge strikes me, as long as I come up with
ideas that I like. I have definite likes and turn-ons, and my stories
will reflect them. So far, they have all been from a male POV; unless
I get far better at getting inside a woman's viewpoint, I won't attempt
a female POV. I *like* women - and *love* one particular woman - and I
hope that shows. Except when it fits well with the plot of the story,
you aren't going to see long lists of anatomical attributes; even if I
do describe my people, it's far more likely to be "slender, with small
breasts" than "102 lbs, 33B, three freckles on the left tit, two on the
right." If people other than the net.default "US-born white" show up,
whether because of plot needs or just because I felt like it, I'll do
my damnedest to make them *people*, not cardboard cutouts.
And finally, I find bad grammar and spelling horribly distracting. I
don't claim to be perfect in that area, but I try. If you find typos,
grammar errors, or out-and-out bad spelling, please let me know. I'll
do my best to fix it before it goes out again. I write these stories
for enjoyment, both mine and yours. I hope I've achieved my goal.
Javahead
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"Whore"
by
Javahead
I hate wearing business suits. Dressing for an evening out is
fun; you can show some flair if you want. But business suits are
*supposed* to be boring. Hell, that's the point. You want to
look conservative, trustworthy, conventional, inoffensive - in a
word, bland. Don't want to scare off a potential customer, after
all. And they're usually uncomfortable, too.
You can also get tired of strange hotel rooms. This one wasn't
too bad. It had a king sized bed; the bathroom was actually
pretty nice. It even had a minibar that I had already stocked
with my own ice and soda. But it was still a hotel room: standard
fittings, easy to clean up, interchangeable with hundreds of
others across the country. After a while on the road, the walls
can start closing in on you.
So what was I doing wearing a business suit, sitting in a hotel
room and staring at the walls? Feeling pretty lonely and bored,
that's what. At least I'd be checking out tomorrow.
There was nothing on TV that sounded interesting. I had
forgotten to bring a book to read, and my chances of finding
something worth reading after everything but all-night markets
had already closed seemed dim. I felt bored, irritable, and not
at all sleepy. Let's be honest, frustrated and horny, too. The
whisky bottle by the bar looked *too* tempting for me to open it;
I like to drink to enjoy it, not to get drunk, and if I started
alone now I would probably kill the bottle. I decided to head to
a liquor store I'd spotted earlier, a few blocks away. Lacking
anything better, they could be counted on to have a pretty
complete collection of girly magazines. Probably leave me
feeling even more frustrated, but what the hell.
I got the car out of the lot and headed over. The hotel was in
an OK area, but the few blocks over to the store cut across the
local red-light district. You know what I mean; every major city
has one, a place with adult bookstores, maybe a strip joint or
two - and hookers on every street corner.
By the time I'd gone a couple of blocks, I'd seen over a dozen
girls. Bright, tight, scanty clothes and garish makeup were the
only constant. The girls themselves ranged from sort-of pretty to
plain, gaunt to plump, a pale blond with big hair to a very dark
black with her hair up in hundreds of beaded braids.
Despite myself, I was tempted. "No one else could ever find
out", I told my conscience, "And I'll make *damn* sure to wear a
condom". At the next light, I turned to circle the block.
I wasn't in any hurry now; I wanted to survey all the local
talent and chose the one most to my taste. "Or maybe I'll still
turn back," I told myself, knowing it was a lie.
As I came down the block for the second time, the door of a seedy
looking all night donut shop at the far corner swung open and a
girl stepped out. She was standing on the curb directly under a
streetlight before I drew level. From a distance, she looked
like what I had in mind. Long dark hair. Medium-dark skin.
Slender. Rather short. Hispanic? Asian? Italian, maybe? I
couldn't tell, but I slowed to take a closer look. As I braked
to a stop, she stepped confidently up to the door of the car.
She paused with her hand on the door handle, peering suspiciously
in. I stared right back. Up close, definitely Asian features.
Young, but not a kid ("probably more experienced" whispered
through my mind). Small breasts, but her thin white tube top
looked damn nice on her. A short, side-button blue mini skirt
with the bottom two buttons undone. Knee-high boots. Black
leather purse on a shoulder strap.
"I *want* her," I decided. When I smiled at her and patted the
seat, she slipped in.
"Want a ride?" I asked, starting the ritual.
"Maybe." She regarded me carefully. "Can you prove you're not a
cop?"
"Can you prove *you're* not?" I returned. Some of her tension
eased, but she remained wary.
She glanced around. Satisfied that no prowl car was in sight,
she pulled down one side of her tube top for a moment. I caught
a mouth-watering glimpse of an erect, dark-brown nipple before
she pulled it back up.
"Your turn."
I placed her hand on top of my bulging crotch. She gave it a
squeeze before pulling her hand back.
"What do you want to do?" she asked. Her tone was considerably
less hard, though still controlled. Definitely a lady who could
watch out for herself.
"How much do you charge?"
"I'll give you a head job here in the car for $25. For $75, I'll
give you a straight fuck, but you've got to rent a room if you're
not staying in a hotel close by. $100, I'll give you half and
half - you can come twice. Tell you what - it's kind of late and
getting cold. For $200, I'll give you all night."
"Kind of expensive for all night. I probably can't come more
than two or three times, anyway. What makes you think you're
worth it?"
"I'm worth it. Look at this." She lifted the front of her skirt
and pulled her panties to one side, revealing her closely
cropped, black haired crotch. Dark brown cunt lips, almost as
dark as the nipple she had flashed, pouted slightly. "I've got
the tightest pussy on the street. I get my health checked once a
week, and make all my johns wear rubbers, so you're going to be
safe - you couldn't pay me enough to take it bareback. Besides -
" she gave a crooked grin "I saw the way you gave me the eye
before you pulled over. Got a thing for oriental girls, hmm?"
"Maybe." I smiled back. "Or maybe I just think you've got the
prettiest cunt I've seen in a long time. All night it is. You
charge extra if I want to eat you out?"
She gave me an approving look. "Do a good enough job, and it's
free. Get me to come, and I might even consider a refund."
Fortunately, the hotel was one of those California affairs with a
parking lot to the side rather than a garage, and a side door
that my room key could open. I didn't want to try talking her
past the front desk - her clothes shrieked "street whore" from a
block away. We didn't meet anyone on the elevator or in the
hall. With a feeling of relief, I swung the door of the room
closed behind her.
She surveyed the room carefully. "Nice. Not bad at all. You
gotta get up early in the morning, or can we take our time?"
"I need to check out by 12:30. If you want, we can sleep in.
Room service breakfast, maybe?"
I was rewarded with a speculative smile. "Mm. You aren't too
bad, stranger. Got something I can call you?"
"Dave. And you're . . ."
"Nita."
Before she asked, I counted out $200 and handed it to her. I
suddenly realized that if she stayed here, she could easily slip
out with my wallet while I was sleeping. She gave a grin at my
worried look.
"Never in the Navy, were you?"
"What?"
"Look, I'll show you. I'm honest, and I'm not gonna roll you,
but *you* don't know that - so let me show you something."
She had me raise the mattress and place my wallet underneath the
middle. There was no way she'd be able to get it out while I was
sleeping on top without waking me. When she said she was honest,
she must mean it.
Nita surprised me again by declining my offer of a drink, though
she did accept a soda. She went along enthusiastically when I
suggested we clean up before bed, though. Probably a treat to
have a customer who didn't smell of stale sweat and cigarette
smoke.
The bathroom got a nod of approval. She bypassed the tub in
favor of the large shower stall, and quickly skinned off her
clothes.
Her body was everything I had hoped for. Short, slender, but
definitely feminine. Nice, tight, bottom. Neatly trimmed pubic
patch. Small breasts with large, erect nipples. I had her turn
around slowly so I could see all of her.
She gave an indulgent smile when I pulled her close enough to
suckle on a nipple, but pushed me gently away after a few
seconds. "Careful, Dave. Shower now. You can do that later,
maybe."
The shower was fun - she insisted on washing me, and used her
whole body to do it with. I had to force myself to slow down -
having that slippery, nude body rubbed all over mine had me on
the verge of orgasm several times. She seemed to enjoy teasing
me - whenever she sensed that I was close to coming she would
ease back. It was almost a relief when she shut the shower off
and reached for a towel to dry me.
Still wrapped in towels, we returned to the bedroom. She turned
back the sheet on the bed, and waved for me to sit down. From
her purse, she pulled a small, foil-wrapped packet - a condom.
She gave a slightly apologetic smile.
"Remember, I warned you that you have to wear it. Besides, it's
safer for you this way."
"Safer for you, too. I'd hate for you to get something nasty
from a customer."
Apparently, I'd said the right thing. She pulled my towel off,
and rolled the condom onto my almost painfully swollen cock.
Letting her own towel slide to the floor, she knelt and slipped
her mouth down over my rubber-encased penis.
She was *very* good. Professional. How many cocks does a girl
have to eat to gain that kind of skill? I wrapped both hands in
her hair and released myself to the experience. I was grateful
for the condom - I wanted this to last, and I was already halfway
there from her teasing in the shower. I tried to breathe
steadily and control my reactions, but it only helped slightly.
Despite all I could do I soon passed the point of no return. I
don't believe I have ever had a more powerful orgasm.
Afterwards, I collapsed on the bed, momentarily limp. Nita went
into the bathroom briefly, and returned with a warm cloth. She
removed the condom from my rapidly softening dick, and used the
cloth to give it a careful washing. Only after she was fully
satisfied with its cleanliness did she return the cloth and the
towels to the bathroom.
Still nude, she slid into bed beside me.
"I know it'll be a while before you can go again. You wanna suck
my titties some, like you were doing earlier?"
She had marvelous nipples - large, dark brown, and always at
least half erect. Sensitive, too - she would giggle and pull
back if I got too enthusiastic. Sooner than I had thought
possible, I felt the beginnings of desire returning.
This time, I pushed her back on the bed. When she reached for
her purse, I stopped her.
"Later. I want to eat your cunt first."
"You *were* serious - I wasn't sure. Do you know how many men
I've had in there?"
"Probably none as horny as I feel right now when I think about
eating it. I *love* pussy, and yours is about the prettiest I've
seen."
It was, too. Her cunt had medium lips, just a shade lighter
brown than her nipples. She kept her bush neatly trimmed; the
sparse hair was glossy black and as straight as the hair on her
head. Despite her professionalism, she seemed to be at least
mildly turned on; the inner lips were folded back, and a sheen of
lubrication covered them. Both her inner cunt and her swollen
clit were a deep, reddish pink.
I took a moment to savor the clean, salty/musky aroma before
diving in. The taste was as delicious her smell had promised -
clean, tangy, with a slight salt aftertaste. At first, she let
me do whatever I wished, but her hands soon came down and pulled
my head more firmly into place. I could feel her pushing her
pussy harder into my face, as well. Soon, she was controlling the
pace.
I could have happily continued for most of the night, but she
wouldn't allow it. Her demands became more and more urgent, more
and more frantic. Finally, she ground her pussy into my face as
hard as she could and stiffened; after a few seconds, she
shuddered and relaxed.
I lifted my head and looked up. Her eyes were half-closed. Her
upper chest had a reddish flush, while her nipples had hardened
into swollen spikes. Unless she was a fine actress, she had just
had an orgasm, and a powerful one.
She gave me a shaky grin. "Do you know how long it's been since I
came with a customer? Maybe I *should* give you a refund."
I grinned back. "My pleasure, Ma'm. But don't worry - you'll
earn it all by morning."
"Give me a moment to recover, and I'll start."
By now, I was rock-hard once again. This time, after rolling the
condom into place, she laid back on the bed and spread her legs
invitingly.
"Want to see if my pussy is as good as I claim?"
My reply left me seated to the hilt. She hadn't been bragging
too much. Despite the hundreds? thousands? of cocks that had
explored it, it was the tightest I'd ever experienced.
"How . . . can you . . . handle . . . the really . . . big guys?"
I asked as I thrust.
"Painfully . . . sometimes . . . I'm glad you're . . .
more normal." She emphasized her point by clamping down with her
vagina. I was amazed - she had been tight before, but now I
could barely move.
She had a further surprise in store, though. As I began to
thrust faster, her legs went up further and tightened. I could
suddenly feel her heels digging into the small of my back as I
pounded into her wide-open cunt. In this position, penetration
was even deeper - it felt as if I was bottoming out on each
stroke. I bellowed incoherently as I came.
Once again, she cleaned me carefully. After placing a couple of
condoms on the bedside table, she dimmed the lights and cuddled
her naked back up against me, pulling my arm over her so that my
hand cupped a small breast. Through a haze of sleep, I could
hear her even breathing gradually slow and mix with a few small,
ladylike, snores.
*************************************************************************
Waking up in a strange hotel room with a naked woman isn't
something I do too often; I was disoriented for a moment. Almost
immediately, the memories of the previous night flooded back in
and I relaxed. We hadn't shifted our positions much during
sleep; my hand was still cupping her breast. I idly ran my thumb
across her nipple, enjoying the sensation.
From the position of the sun on the wall, it was already
midmorning. Reluctantly, I shook her awake. She came awake more
gradually than I had, but didn't show any signs of confusion. No
doubt, she was used to waking up in this sort of circumstance.
Once she was fully awake, she slid out of bed and stretched -
arms up, chest out, legs taut - before heading into the bathroom.
I admired the motion of her bare ass as she walked away.
Returning from my own visit, I found her still nude, lounging on
the bed. She gave a half-pleased, half mocking smile as she saw
my cock beginning to respond.
"Want your money's worth, don't you, Dave?"
"Wouldn't you be worried if I didn't? Think of it as . . . job
security."
She gave a short laugh. "Maybe you're right. Looks like I'm
*real* secure right now, doesn't it?"
This time, after rolling the condom in place, she pushed me on my
back. Once I was down, she swung a leg over me and lowered
herself onto my waiting cock.
Astride me, she could control the tempo. Rather than urgent,
frenzied pace of the night before, she took it slowly, easily.
Perhaps because of this, the feeling was different; the mood was
relaxed, friendly, almost tender. Judging by her gentle smile,
she found the act at least mildly pleasant; she almost purred
when I began to gently stroke her sides and back. As my orgasm
slowly built, I allowed myself the hope that she liked me, not
just my money. Perhaps if we had met under different
circumstances we might have dated . . .
I pulled myself back from that. However nice, she was here
because I had paid her money; her trim body and exquisite cunt
were for rent, and I musn't let myself forget it.
("But I still like her.") I told myself. ("And I can treat her
nicely while she's here.")
This time, when I came, it was as unhurried and easy as the act
that had produced it. I held her on my chest long after I had
finished, savoring the contact. I would have loved to hold her
there all day. All too soon, though, she slid off.
Rather than wait for her to return, I followed her into the
bathroom and disposed of the condom myself. I didn't protest,
though, when she insisted on helping me clean up.
"Feel like breakfast?" I asked. "I can call room service."
"Not afraid of starting gossip? They'll *know* I don't belong
here."
"Screw that. Anyway, I probably won't be back here for a while."
"You sold me. Too bad, though. I was hoping you'd be a
regular."
I did my best to conceal the pleasure I felt at her last remark.
("Down, boy. She's probably a wonderful actress. Even if I do
hope she meant it.")
After I called our order in, I retrieved my wallet from under the
mattress and pulled my pants on; after all, I needed to open the
door and tip the waiter. She watched me with amusement for a
moment, then slid back into bed, pulling up the covers to her
chin. I raised an eyebrow quizzically.
She gave me a devilish look. "Since you don't mind gossip, I want
breakfast in bed. If you're not afraid I'll shock the waiter,
that is."
"Be my guest."
Breakfast arrived on a trolley pushed by a boy just a year or two
out of high school. After his first rapid glance at my
companion, he did a remarkable job of pretending all was normal,
blandly rolling the trolley to the side of the bed, setting out
the food, and positioning Nita's bed tray. It was only when she
sat up to eat that his self-possession cracked; she seemingly
took no notice when the covers slid down to her waist. He
absently accepted his tip without checking the amount and backed
through the door.
"That was uncalled for." I had a hard time not laughing.
"Well you *did* say 'Be my guest'." It sounded as if she was
suppressing a giggle. "The poor boy acted as if he'd never seen
tits before."
"None like yours, Nita. None like yours. Now eat your
breakfast."
She pulled her clothes back on while I buckled up my suitcase.
In the bright sunlight streaming in from the windows, they were
even more revealing than they had been the night before. Her
skirt ended well above the knee, and the dark outlines of her
nipples could easily be seen through the thin white tube top.
"Well, Dave? Was I worth the money?" Her voice was challenging
again.
"Actually, you've earned a bonus."
I pulled four $20 bills from my wallet and handed them to her.
Her gaze softened.
"Do you want me to call you a cab? I'll give you cab fare - or I
can drop you off if you'd like."
"You're checking out? You can drop me off."
The waiter must have told his story; I saw several uniformed
heads bob out of the door leading to the restaurant as I was
settling up, while the clerk pointedly ignored Nita's presence.
Her face wore a mocking smile; if anything, she appeared to enjoy
the whispers.
Contrary to what you'd expect, she lived in a nice house in the
suburbs. For the first time since I'd picked her up, she showed
signs of uncertainty.
"Could I offer you some coffee, or something?" Her voice sounded
almost shy, as if she was unsure that I would accept. Her eyes
warmed when I nodded.
Once inside, she carefully closed and latched the door before
turning to me. I met her halfway.
For several minutes, we embraced in silence.
"Worth a bonus, was I?"
"Nita, you've got the talent to be a $1000 a night call girl, not
a street whore."
"Maybe I'll be that *next* time. I had to turn down six guys
before you showed up. Come on and help me change - it's almost
time to go pick up the kids."