The Sex Worker
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My name is Edward. I'm single and alone, through no real fault of my own. I am old enough to know better and young enough to wish I wasn't fat and balding.
In an attempt to find something to do with myself besides staring at the TV set and making food, I decided to explore the local alcoholic establishments. I hadn't been bar crawling in 30 years except for a brief stint as a musician a dozen years before.
The bar in the hotel I chose to visit had been a blues bar the last time I had been there. Now it was a slimy sort of pick-up bar. Even on a Wednesday night, a few attractive women sat on the bar chairs or at pub tables, getting chatted up by overweight men in suits with wedding rings. Businessmen, looking for some entertainment for the night.
You stood out from the other girls; long curly black hair with a pair of horns protruding, pale skin, a long, lacey overshirt and corset with a black skirt. You wore the hoof shoes you posted about earlier in the week. I knew you from back when you and your boyfriend attended the blues club. You'd been hot then and looked hotter now.
Of course, I am a subscriber to your not-safe-for-work photography, where I was dazzled by your innocence and your breasts. I hadn't seen you out and about in a long time. We don't tend to run in the same circles.
I slid onto the bar stool next to you.
You turned to look at me.
"Hi Dutchess, you're looking hot tonight." I ordered a beer. "Are you here all alone?"
Your eyes widened, and your irises expanded. Your pale skin turned a bit pink, almost as though you'd been caught doing something naughty. My heart sped up a bit.
"I... ummm..., yeah, for now... How ya been?" You sipped at your drink with a studied nonchalance, scanning the room and then turning back to me.
"Been good. Been a little lonely lately." In truth I'm nervous and feeling pretty shy, myself. But here I am talking to the Dutchess, who has been an object of my fantasy since you posted your first pictures.
In the corner a piano player is destroying some song I heard when I was a kid. Not a favorite, but it's slow and all I can do is take a shot. "Would you like to dance? It's been a long time for me, but this might be nice."
I offer you my arm. You look a bit uneasy and squint at me suspiciously, but then you slide off the bar stool. You deposit your lacy over shirt on the bar stool. My heart nearly stopped. Your breasts pushed up high by the corset, with hard, eraser-shaped nipples under the near transparent material.
You take my arm and chuckle. "I'm not particularly good at dancing in hooves."
I guide you to the tiny dance floor. The piano player is killing another hit song when I pull you close. "We'll take it slow."
I put my hands on your hips for a gentle slow dance. Your hooves make you nearly my height. I pull back a bit to connect with you but my eyes drift down to your breasts and cleavage. A shiver races through me.
You smirk at me, flashing your fangs. "Like what you see?" You're flushed. A little shiver runs through you. "I didn't expect this tonight..."
I pull you closer. Are you attracted to me? That would be crazy. You don't even mind me ogling your boobs. I search around for something to say that isn't overtly sexual. I don't want to read too much into the situation and make a fool of myself.
"What brings you to a place like this, tonight? It's not the kind of place I thought you liked."
You grinned at me, flashing those fangs again, "I don't mind the seedy underbelly when it's on my terms. Can be fun even... What'd you come out for? This is usually a hot spot for call girls. You into that sort of thing?" You stumble and steady yourself by pressing your whole body tight against me.
I'm blushing. I'm breathing hard. I pull you close to help you keep your balance, and I feel your soft breasts against my chest. I shudder.
One of my fantasies is about paying for sex with a girl I know, like you. No cheating. No seduction. Just payment for services rendered. Are you part of that world? How do I ask without being the ass hole?
"Well, if you were selling, I'd be buying." I blurted the words out before I could stop myself. My face burned. I tried to laugh it off, but our eyes were locked.
You cocked your head slightly and pulled my ear down to your mouth. "I'm selling..."
You stepped back letting my hands drop from your hips, giving me space to run if I want to. I was speechless and amazed. "Still interested?" You smirk at me as though to call me out.
My thoughts whirled. How much cash did I have? How much did I need? Do you have a room? Or do I have to get one? I see some fear in your eyes, like you expect me to judge you. This wrenches my heart. I run my hands down your back and across your full buttocks. "Y...Y...Yes..."
Your eyebrows, or what you use for eyebrows, rise in surprise. "There are rooms here we can use, if you're fully serious..." you lean in so close I can feel your breath on my cheek and your heart beat. "I know I am."
"May I kiss you?" I ask but don't wait for an answer. I kiss your mouth, lightly at first. Your lip ring feels different, hot and cold against my lips. I try to be careful, not kiss too hard, but your mouth opens, and you pull me into a deep and passionate kiss. Our tongues dance and I meet your tongue stud. I am intrigued by this lively piece of metal.
You melt in my arms. Time stops. I held you tight, one hand on the hard corset and the other on your soft butt covered loosely with gauze.
At some point, I noticed the music had stopped playing. We were still involved in the kiss as I watched the various men in the joint looking at us. I broke the kiss at last. "Let's get that room here."
You broke the kiss reluctantly but led me back to the bar where the bartender had me fill out a form for the room. When I'm done, you show me a form of your own. "This is a scene contract so we both understand what is expected," you say in the most businesslike manner. "It's not terribly wordy, just the standard. If I say 'no' it stops. If you say 'no' it stops. I'm fully tested and clean, condoms are at your own discretion..."
You fiddle with your fishnet stockings as I read. "Do you have any....hard limits or anything? Do you want a domme or a sub? I'm a switch so...either is fine." You smile at me with a bit of fang showing.
I raise my eyebrows. A contract? The world has definitely changed. But it looks like good sense. I have a thousand questions, but I want us to get to the room as quick as possible. While the bartender runs my card, I cup one your cheeks in my hand. I feel the garter strap but no panties or thong. You came ready for business. My little gentleman pushed at my slacks. I hoped I was ready for business...
"I'm not sure how domme and sub works. I always just try to please my partner. Let me know what excites you. I'm good to try just about anything." I sign my slip and then we walk to the room, arms around each other, and my hand on your ass.
"I mean, I have varied tastes. Little bit of everything honestly so you can kind of... have your pick of experiences." You wink at me then lick your lips, almost innocently. "Personally I'm in the mood for a bit of sweetness within something a bit more rough..."
I'm grinning as we reach the door. I have some ideas on how to deliver sweet with a bit of rough. I fumble opening the door. We stumble into the room, and we are kissing again. I let my hands roam over your body in the privacy of the room. There is no concern about what I can touch. No first base, second base, third base horseshit. I gently lift your breasts, enjoying their weight and feel through your shirt, while teasing the erect nipples.
My other hand finds the zipper for your skirt and tugs it down. I can feel bare skin as I push the skirt off your hips. I was right, you didn't wear panties or a thong. Was that because you were ready to be pushed up against the wall outside the restrooms and taken from behind? Maybe next time...I fumble with the corset. "You'll need to help me here."
You smirk at me.
I step back and start peeling off my own clothes. Did I see the heat I feel in your eyes as well?
You peel off the corset with the adeptness of long practice, leaving just a loose-fitting translucent shirt and fishnet stockings. You grin at me and flash your fangs as you pull my shirt off. You lean in and sniff me before you nip my neck with your fangs.
I shivered from the scrape of fangs on my skin. I touch you everywhere. I want to feel you, warm and soft in my hands. Hard nipples that make you shiver, sweet skin as I kiss and nibble at your neck. I slip a hand between your legs. You shift a little to give me access. I trace your outer lips, already moist from our foreplay. I dip in and separate your inner folds. I'm doing this all by touch because we are kissing and biting each other like mad animals.
Your lip ring slides across my teeth as you push your tongue in my mouth. I push two fingers in your pussy, and you push your mons against my hand. I back you up to the bed until the mattress catches the back of your knees. I let you go and you climb on the bed much like a cat.
You pull your shirt off and lay on your side grinning at me with a wicked smile. Your breasts lay enticingly across your chest. You crook your finger at me and smirk. I drop my pants and underwear and crawl in bed with you.
The first thing I do is suck on your left nipple, just there and inviting me to taste it. As I suck it, your moans make me think your nipples are hardwired to your pussy.
"Mmmmmm, uhhh, that's it, big boy." Your groans make my spine tingle.
I love it when nipple play almost makes a woman cum. I continue my work on your other breast and slip my fingers back into your pussy. You shift your legs to give me better access and I slide three fingers into your wetness.
You buck hard against me and pull my head off of your breast to kiss you hard. I move my hand up to your nipples and twist and tease them. You continue to buck and dig your fingers into my hair. "Don't stop... mmmmhhhh... uhhh. Oh gawd."
I'm on a sacred mission now. It's been so long since I've been with a woman, and I was so ignorant then, I wanted to try what I'd learned on the internet about the 'G' spot. As aroused as you were the hard structure hidden in your vaginal wall should be easier to find. I probed gently; your walls dripped with moisture.
When I find the little bump inside, I stroke, and you buck hard. I rub around it and you moan. With my lips locked on your right breast, I use my other hand to stroke the hood around your clit. I don't want to push you too hard.
"O gawd... Don't stop whatever you do... don't stop uh uhh aww."
I can already feel your pussy pulsing towards an orgasm. I am being careful not to push you too fast. I want you to really get off. I know prostitutes aren't supposed to get off when they are with a client but you're so close.
