Cigarettes and Listerine
The following story is about sex with a sex worker. I understand that is problematic for many people. For the purposes of this story, our sex worker is entirely independent, not being trafficked or abused by a pimp or dealer, although I am well aware that is often the case. This is just for fun. If you think you want to try something like this in real life, probably don't, or at least be very careful. Just jack off to a sexy story instead.
The scene is gritty and its participants don't look like pornstars. If you want Greek sculptures fucking each other's perfect bodies in an idyllic setting this isn't the story for you.
Thanks, enjoy!
Sitting outside of the cheap red roof in in my car, I contemplate what I'm about to do.
My girlfriend is sitting at home, probably sprawled on the couch, eating junk food and watching some stupid reality TV. I'm not, I'm at a cheap hotel, contemplating cheating on her.
The screen on my phone lights up with a new message. "You close baby? I can't wait forever."
I stare at the phone for a few moments, my hands shaking.
I've never done anything like this before.
"What a piece of shit I am." I mutter to myself, then, I punch, "Just got here, BRT." Into my phone and walk up to the door numbered 138. It's one of those motels where the doors are on the outside. The room I am looking for is on the ground floor. A lone lamp post provided dim lighting to the entire area. The sidewalk in front of the room is dirty, littered with cigarette butts and the dark stains of unknown fluids. There's a smell of stale smoke and urine. There's a window, and I see light coming from the room, but anything else is obscured by thick, dusty curtains.
My cock is rock hard, and my hands are shaking. The door opens before I can knock. "Come in, says a voice from inside. Thin, platinum (obviously bleached to within an inch of its life) blonde hair frames a tired, lined face.
She's wearing copious amounts of eye makeup. Giving her that 'Heroin Chic' look..."Or maybe it actually is heroin." I think to myself. Her lips are thin, and noticeably un-adorned. A pinkish gray shade.
She's older than her picture...no surprise, I supposed. But I'm not disappointed, it will be easier to ask for what I want. Who cares what this old hag thinks of me, after all.
She smiles slightly as I walk in, then she closes the door behind me and pulls the security bar, then locks the bolt.
I don't know what to say. I'm still shaking a bit, so I just stand there clutching my backpack in front of me and wait for her to take charge.
She's wearing a satiny robe with a kind-of Japanese pattern of dragons and phoenixes on a blue ocean-wave background. She's showing a lot of cleavage, her round, firm breasts sitting proudly up on her chest, despite any evidence of a bra to support them.
"Obviously fake." I think to myself, then find myself kind of excited by the idea of this old hooker's fake tits.
She moves up to me, takes my hand, and puts it on her breast. I give it a squeeze and raise my other hand to grab her other tit.
"So...you want GFE for two hours and you said you had a special request?" She asked, suddenly businesslike.
I pause my pawing and nod. "Yes...thank you...I have a couple of questions...if that's ok?"
She nods, and beckons me to the bed where we both sit.
"First...I want to make sure. We can kiss, and make out and...I can come more than once?"
"Yeah baby, you got me for 2 hours...as many times as you can go." She confirms. "What about the special request?
I hesitate. "Um...there's two. First, can we do it without a condom?"
She takes a long look at me. "This your first time honey?" she asks.
I nod.
"Thought so...fine, but that's going to be expensive, another two-hundred." What else.
I hesitate. This is the big one. I unzip my bag and pull out the strapon with shaking hands. "I want you to use this on me tonight too."
My ears heat up, and my face goes beet-red. I stare down into my lap.
