High Heels and a Pretty Smile
The Journal of a Pleasure Hostess
Introduction
High heels and a pretty smile. That is all I am allowed. More than that. It's a requirement. Heels at all times unless I'm required to remove them during activities.
Okay. A little about me before I get down to describing the important stuff.
My name is Maria. I grew up in a deprived neighbourhood. Poor schooling, parents doing their best but plagued with constant money troubles, and a squabbling family with six older siblings. I'd never had a room to myself. Privacy and space were an unknown quantity.
Life had dealt me a shit hand in most respects. But for every Yin, there is a Yang. For me, that's good genes.
My parents are Venezuelan. I can't say I am really. I was born here in the US and that was how I saw myself. I even had one of those big stars and strips pinned to the bedroom wall behind my bed.
I can't even speak much Spanish. And certainly not any of the other twenty-six recognised tongues they have down there.
What I have inherited from my ancestry are good looks. I have long shiny black hair, brown eyes and deep bronze skin tones.
Everyone says I'm beautiful. Even as a child, I was the pretty one. And as an adult in my mid-twenties I'm at my peak. My body is sculptured. Strong, defined legs with wide hips and a rounded butt. I can do great things with that butt, but I'll tell you more about that later.
I also have small pert titties with lovely deeply coloured nipples centred perfectly in the equally rich areola. They're like little buttons. Even I love playing with them.
I might think of myself as American but it's impossible to escape some aspects of Venezuelan culture. And that's not always a bad thing. I take pride in my appearance. Like most girls my age I spend a lot of time making sure I stay beautiful. I'd even won a local beauty pageant just after leaving school.
I have two tattoos. On my right hip and upper thigh a large flower design with three rose heads in a rich red against green leaves.
Then up along my left collar bone in black ink the words 'Love yourself first'. This a motto I've always tried to live to.
Boys notice me. I am the one they sneaked looks at in the street. The one they swallowed back Tequila for to give them the confidence to approach me in bars.
If I'd been born into a more affluent society I would have had my pick of men. But Florida is an unforgiving place for the poor. My options were limited and my future was likely to be a repeat of my mothers, and her mother's before her.
Of course, I wasn't some blushing innocent virgin when Master found me. I'd had my share of the local talent such as it was. No one I felt the need to profess my love for, but every girl needs a nice clean cock occasionally and took them when they were on offer.
Sharing a bedroom with a younger sister and the boys mostly in similar positions I'd become an expert at fucking in cars, or on them if we drove out of town. It wasn't romantic or comfortable but I had honed my skills by the time Master found me.
He saved me from that life. He saw my qualities. Natural assets I traded for my route out of poverty. He truly appreciated my sweet Latino body and he had the means to make my dreams come true.
That was the trade. My beauty for a future free from following in the nearly inescapable footsteps of my community. And he had the perfect house, the kind you only see in movies, in which to exercise my talents for him.
And so here I am. For one year it's my job to keep the Master happy. That is my only purpose. And I am putting my heart and soul into it.
Routines - Morning Duties
Master always sits at the island in the kitchen for his morning coffee. It's bright and sunny here. Large pivoting glass panels fill the whole of one wall and open out into the gardens facing the sun as it rises into the sky.
This is where my first task of the weekdays takes place.
He likes me to crawl on all fours across the floor and manoeuvre myself between his legs under the overhang. While he drinks his coffee above me I carefully open his gown to expose his cock.
It's one of the best you'll ever see. I measured it once. A full eight and a half inches in length. I can't remember the girth exactly but it's thick.
And better, it's a pretty one. Nice and straight with a silky purple crown. Master is always particular about his hygiene routines, so everything is always fresh and smooth. He waxes regularly and has a body as smooth as my own.
In the mornings there is a mouth-only rule so I keep my hands on his thighs, or sometimes I put them behind my back so his cock in my mouth is our only bodily contact.
It feels great on the tongue when I tease him. That's what Master likes at first. He likes me to lick it. Especially that spot just under the tip.
I always take my time, judging my performance by how hot he gets and by the strength of his jerking cock. When I think he's struggling to contain himself I'll switch to licking the underside of his shaft, down to his balls.
I never forget the balls. When he's hard they pull up tight. Not so easy to suck, but pushing them about with my lips and tongue makes him squirm.
Master rarely says much in the mornings but his low groans and sharp gasps are a good indication that he is pleased with my performance.
I usually only put his crown between my lips at first. That's great to continue my tongue magic, swirling it in circles around his head. Or in patterns to vary things.
When I run my lips down his shaft it reaches all the way to the back of my throat. This was hard in the early days and I know I gagged far too often. But practice makes perfect as they say. And Master certainly likes this a lot.
Finishing is usually achieved by fast movements of my lips over his crown. I bob my head from the neck so that it slides over my tongue until he tenses. Master usually gives an excited gasp and I feel the throb of his cock just before he cums.
It's always creamy and fills my mouth. Master likes me to continue sucking him as his cock softens while I keep his seed swirling around him. I swallow when I finally stop, always making sure to wipe any escaped drips back between my lips.
I always remember to thank him before going to the bathroom. Master has a second coffee while I prepare his shower. Turning the water on I check it's exactly the right temperature. Then I tie my hair back and step in to wait for him.
It's my task to lather him, using my body as well as my hands to rub the soap all over. I pay special attention to his cock with it being my task to ensure he gets erect again.
When he's ready I turn and bend over, supporting myself against the door frame or the tiled backsplash so he can fuck me from behind. Master is always enthusiastic and pumps my pussy vigorously while the shower water falls over us like raindrops.
If I've done my work well in the kitchen he will last quite a while, making me cum several times. I'm always happy if he pleases himself by holding me up against him with his hands on my titties. Sometimes he will push me against the shower door, making them slide over the wet glass.
It's usually quite hard to stay standing towards his finish. My knees are always trembling by the time he empties the last drops of juice residing in his ball bag into my pussy.
My final duty before I dry him off is to suck his cock again, making sure it's perfectly clean.
Master dresses when the morning ritual is complete and I see him to the door in just my heels.
In The Diner
Poppy shook her head. She crossed her shapely legs and sat back not noticing her white waitress dress riding up her thigh.
"Why am I reading this smut?"
"Just something to keep you entertained between customers."
Mr mega-rich was watching her. A smile just playing on the edges of his mouth. He was as relaxed as he was handsome. He wasn't the usual kind of guy who came into the diner or even the town. That's what had attracted Poppy to strike up a conversation.
That and there had been no one else after George had finished up and wandered off to sit on his porch.
Poppy laughed.
"Customers. You should have brought War and Peace. It's hardly ever busy here."
She poured her mysterious customer another coffee from the big jug. It was heavy but she'd had years of practice lifting it.
"So what are you? An erotic fiction writer?
Are you famous? Should I be getting your autograph?"
Her face positively beamed.
"I didn't write it."
"Who did?"
"Why don't you read the rest of it."
Poppy smirked. She didn't mind a bit of smut even if it was a little weird having a customer present to her while she was supposed to be working. Not that she was busy. The regulars had been in for bacon and eggs and moved on.
Only this dude was still around now. That wasn't a bad thing. He was easy on the eye. A cut above anyone else that came into the old diner.
A part of her hoped he'd stick around. He looked fucking gorgeous. Better than the stream of truck drivers that passed through. Less and less these days.
And between his hunky body and smutty journal, Poppy was already assessing her chances of getting him to go out back with her. He'd be a prize in her life.
It wasn't as though she was busy. There'd be time. The worst that could happen was the boss rolling up. Not likely but possible. Cyrus had caught her before but didn't really care. So long as she served customers and rang up the till he didn't fuss about how else she used the place. If he'd been a younger man he might have wanted some himself. In his seventies, he was past all that and Poppy occasionally flirted with the safe knowledge it kept him happy without running the risk of being expected to deliver on it.
Cyrus had walked in once and seen her tits while she was riding a guy. He'd just apologised and turned round.
Poppy made a play of getting herself more comfortable on the seat. She stretched herself upright, realising the movement had inadvertently pushed her tits out to catch his attention.
"Okay. Back to the smut.
Chapter two." She smirked.
"Or is it three?
Ooh. I'm losing count."
Routines - Weekday Evenings
Master works at the office most days so I have to make my own entertainment until he comes home. I do have the freedom of the house and can go outside into the gardens or swim in the pool. It's just when the pool boy comes I'm restricted to inside. Only Master is permitted to lay eyes on my body.
I'm still required to abide by the dress code of only heels as Master might wish to watch me over his WiFi link from the office during his free time. Occasionally he will call and ask me to entertain him. I masturbate where he can see through a camera.
Generally, this will be me laid back in a chair with my legs open so that he has a good view. But sometimes I try to vary things by humping a pillow in the bedroom, the corner of the bed, or even the arm of a chair in the living area.
I always take my time, caressing myself. I like to stroke my thighs, especially the inside lines up towards my pussy. And as I've already mentioned, I do love to play with my titties. Soft trailing fingers that trace out their curve. Fingers squeezing my firm mounds before gently twisting my hard little nipples. Only Masters hands on them are better.
