I have a good job; I have been working for Doc Gleason for a couple of years as his secretary receptionist.
At twenty-five I had my own apartment, car and a fiancé that I am engaged to me married to next June.
I live in Grimsby, a small bedroom town about a twenty-minute drive from Hamilton, our closest big city neighbor.
I have been blessed with an attractive body, long auburn hair, iridescent green eyes and 38C breasts. Guys were always hitting on me.
I had learned early in life only stupid girls give it away. If a guy wanted my body he would have to pay.
I had found a way to augment my income. I could easily pick up enough cash in a couple of days each month to cover my rent, car payments and a few other expenses.
Each month there was a "check day", the day the government mailed out benefit checks to seniors, single mothers, aboriginals and those on the welfare roll. For a couple of days the poor were rich.
At this time an ambitious girl could make a significant amount of cash in a short period of time.
I got home from work shortly after five and quickly showered and put on one of my slutty outfits, a black micro mini skirt and an elasticized red tube top with half my bare boobs spilling out over the top. I was a veritable stop sign for hard ons.
I quickly checked the answering machine and hopped into the Mazda for the short drive into Hamilton.
Like most of the whores I had "my corner". There is about a six-block stretch on Main Street where the whores wait for Johns to pick them up. My corner was right in the heart of the strip.
I parked my car in the grocery store parking lot and walked the couple of blocks to Main and Emerald Streets.
The police often had policewomen standing on the street as decoys. Most guys knew who they were because while they dressed provocatively they never showed too much flesh.
On the other hand my top was so low the top of my nipples were peeking out, no doubt I was the genuine article.
Traffic was heavy and there were already a couple of whores working. I took my place conspicuously offering my wares to passing cars.
I didn't have to wait long, in about ten minutes the old Ford pickup stopped where I stood.
I recognized the driver; it was Jim, a previous customer. Jim was a pudgy guy in his fifties. In his younger days he had had a full head of red hair, now it was mostly gray with only traces of red remaining.
"Whatcha have Jim, the usual?" I smiled.
Jim always choose a blowjob, Fifty bucks for sucking his cock topless and swallowing his load. It was an easy start for my night.
Jim leaned over and opened the door; I climbed into the cab with him.
It was a short drive to the rear of a school and soon I had my first mouthful of cock.
It was strictly mechanical. I pulled my top down allowing my tits to pop out and went down on Jim's cock which he already had out waiting for me. Jim's cock like everything else about him was average. I took him in my mouth and worked my expertise While I sucked Jim kneaded my tits like two lumps of pizza dough, stretching and squeezing, rolling my nipples between his chubby finger.
He comes quickly, his salty sperm flooding my mouth. I hastily swallowed his cum allowing it to slide down my throat like escargot. I wiped the head of his cock clean on my left nipple.
Jim dropped me off back at the corner with the taste of his cum still fresh in my mouth and his fifty bucks in my purse.
Nobody had taken my spot during my absence so I positioned myself right near the curb conspicuous to the passing traffic.
A couple of passing cars honked their horns and one guy stopped to ask if he could fuck me barecock. I told him that everyone had to use condoms. He offered me and extra hundred to put it in me without a rubber, which I reluctantly declined.
Almost half an hour had passed since I had sucked Jim's cock before my next trick stopped.
He was a big greasy looking Italian driving a Lincoln Town Car. He wanted to know what I charged for a "trip around the world", a blowjob followed by a fuck. I told him a hundred and a half and he told me to get in.
The guy wanted to take me to a twenty-dollar motel room at the nearby City Motor Hotel. Although the interior of the Lincoln was more luxurious than any of the rooms at the City he wanted to get me naked and get his money's worth. Fucking in the car was always a risky thing and I refused to get completely naked while parking.
On the way to the motel he introduced himself as Angelo Castiglione, the owner of a local used car lot. I noticed the wedding ring on his left hand and thought he would be better off at the gym getting rid of some of his excess weight than jumping up and down on some chick half his age. Well thanks to the Angelo's I was able to make a few bucks and maybe someday he could give me a deal on a car?
Ang stopped outside the motel office and went in to register with the East Indian guy on the desk. Minutes later he returned with the room key in his hand.
The City Motor Hotel is a two story "U" shaped structure surrounding a pool and the parking lot. Our room was #237 on the second level. We climbed the stairway up to our level with Ang right behind me looking at my ass in anticipation of seeing it naked.
Room #237 was the same as every other room in the motel. The standard double bed covered with a brown chenille bedspread, a tabletop TV securely fastened to the vanity and a closet containing half a dozen of those coat hangers you can't remove from the rod.
I begin to undress while Ang played with the radio.
