Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: an217242@anon.penet.fi (Javahead)
Date: Sat, 1 Apr 1995 10:17:54 UTC
Subject: Whore (mf, cons, ir)

    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.

				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 whiskey 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'am. 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 mustn'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."