Whore

Written by Andrew (March 2001)

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 blow 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 have meant 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 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 for us to go pick up the
kids."