The Things We Do for Who We Love

I bobbed my head back and forth on his cock, my eyes closed, my hand stroking his root. The guy I was sucking off was moaning incoherently and he managed to gasp "I'm going to cum!" and I steadied myself and took his load. He'd paid for that. He groaned and sagged and I got a mouthful of cum, which I swallowed.

My name is Jennifer Cranston. No, I'm not related to Bryan Cranston. I wish I was, I might not be in this situation I'm currently in. The guy I'd been sucking off, some middle-aged, greying dad with a huge beer gut was fixing his jeans as I downed some water. I've seen his type before. The kind of guy with a wife and a kid or two, who's wife probably wouldn't do what I just did without a lot of prompting or a fight. Those kinds of clients were pretty common. As were their reasons. "Thank you!" he said profusely. At least he was nice.

"You're most welcome!" I replied in a sunny tone, like I was satisfied. Men complain if they think you aren't happy with the big load they give you. Even if you have to do all the work. Even in situations like this.

I work at this place, the Shooting Star Cafe. And as you can obviously tell, this place serves more than just coffee and latte's. My customer left. He probably told me his name but I never remember their names. I'd call them 'Johns' if it was allowed. But not acknowledging their names could be considered rude.

I got to my feet an left the room. I went out back where those of us from the 'special' menu got to relax until it was time to serve. There were about eight of us that work here. I sat down, taking a swig of mouthwash to wash away my last client. If my next John paid for making out, I didn't want cock breath. That put them off.

I can hear you wondering mentally how I got here? How did Jennifer Cranston get to this point? Where she was sucking dick for money? Well the answer is probably the same answer that forces every other girl to do this kind of thing.

I'm fucking broke.

Here's the story. I went to college for business and graduated with a boatload of college debt, as is custom. I took a job in business at entry level. It was going well but then I fucked up by letting a coworker talk his way into my pants and he knocked me up. Fast forward nine months, I have a daughter now. My little Anna-Maria. I do not regret having her whatsoever, I just wished I hadn't had her so early. They guy, who's name I will not dignify by mentioning, refused responsibility. So I took his ass to court and got him to pay child support.

Which immediately made me persona non-grata at work. I was shunned as the office was seemingly united against me. I saw the writing on the wall and just quit. It's funny how men have issues with raising children they father. Well, Anna's father had wanted me to get an abortion, which I did not because I do not believe in abortions.

Which is what led me here. The business world was closed to me, as word spread that I was some bitch who only wanted to take money from men. A man can father a hundred kids and it's all good. But if he has to pony up and pay for it, suddenly the women is a heartless, soulless bitch who's only after his hard-earned money.

I'm sorry, I'll stop ranting about the unfairness of the business world and bullshit stereotypes. But they are why I'm here so they needed to be mentioned.

So I began working as a waitress. Doing whatever odd job I could for money. Because other than the check from the not-to-be-named asshole, I have no money. My parents, well, they weren't impressed. But they babysat, and that was all I wanted from them. My jobs sucked but they paid the bills. I worked as a waitress for a while until I got mouthy with some customer who left a shitty review that got me fired. Then I tried being a a cleaning lady but I couldn't handle the smell of the cleaning sprays and went back to waiting tables at a different place.

One of my friends from my first waitress job, who also got fired for being bitchy back to an asshole customer that then left a shitty review, contacted me and told me of a coffee shop. Her name was Kelly, and she had a kid like me so she understood what I was going through.

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine Kelly was signing me up to work at this 'special' cafe. Kelly said it was a great place to make money. And they needed a blue eyed blonde, which fit me to a T. When it had come out what this cafe really required, I had naturally been repulsed and refused. But Kelly had come and talked to me around and talked me into not refusing it. It was good money and it wasn't full sex.

The services went as follows:

150 dollars for a blowjob. You got the fifty, the house got the hundred. Any tip you got left was yours to keep as well.

A facial was an extra ten dollars. A mouthful and swallow was 180 dollars. If they paid for the swallowing, you got to keep the 80 out of respect for having to, you know, swallow his cum. Some girls don't mind that. I was never one that cared much, I'd done it but I wasn't repulsed by it.

Deep-throating depended on the size of the guy. If he was Johnny Sins or Mandingo sized, it simply wasn't possible. But if they were normal, it was an option, and that was another 15 dollars too. Some guys wanted to facefuck, which was another 30 dollars. And then there was if a guy wanted to see tits, that was another ten. We did not get fully naked, no matter what was asked. Getting cum on your tits was the same price as a facial. But we would give lap dances, which was another 15.

So someone who paid for deep-throating, swallowing, face fucking, and me to be topless was going to be 250 dollars. You would got a hundred out of that and the house kept the 150.

I'm sorry if the economics is boring. I was in business remember? I know my numbers. I have to. It's not the hundreds of dollars escorts make for a night out. But they have rich clients. We have average Joe's who can't get laid for whatever reason. Or guys with women who do not put out for whatever reason.

It's a thriving business. Sex sells you know? Even just oral.

I sighed and leaned back. I'm of average height for a girl, slim, bright blond haired, blue eyed. I had perky tits. Not much ass to speak of, but I made up for that with my girl-next-door looks. Like all those stupid movies where you imagine banging the hot girl next door. I'm only twenty-six but if I dress right, people still think I'm in high school.

The girl next to me, a skinny brunette named Grace, spoke up. "What's wrong Jenny? Was he bad?"

"No, he was all right. I was just wondering how I wound up here," I confessed.

"Because your ass is broke with a kid to raise," said Monica. She was the black girl who worked here for those who wanted a taste of chocolate. She was pretty busty and curvy, so she looked like a future ghetto moms from the hood. Which was part of her appeal. And like me and Kelly, she had a kid to support.

"Yeah," I replied.

"I'm so glad I'll never know," said the only man present, a guy named Teddy. Teddy was the only male on the 'special' menu, here specifically for those guys who were either bi, outright gay, or hadn't come out yet but wanted the thrill of another guy sucking their dicks. That was a surprisingly large number. Usually like three or four a week.

"Only because you'll never knock a bitch up," said Grace. Grace didn't have any kids that I knew of. I think her being here has more to do with being thrown out by her parents and having nowhere to go and nothing else to rely on but her body. Kelly told me that Grace didn't like to talk about it so I hadn't asked.

Teddy was completely gay so knocking a girl up was no worry for him. He smiled back. "Kelly still with her John?" he asked now.

"She's right here!" said the reason I worked her. Kelly Smith was walking toward us with a triumphant smile. Dark haired, dusky skinned, she looked Latina even though she wasn't. She had better boobs than the rest of us girls, even Monica.

"You look happy. Why?" said Grace.

"I just made two-fifty!" replied a smug Kelly.

I groaned. She had already made two-fifty today, and once yesterday. Meaning she'd already made 300 this week. And it was only Wednesday! The guy I'd just sucked was my only client for today.

"Don't be jealous," said Monica.

"My went's due next week. I need another couple hundred or he's going to throw me out!" I said irritably.

"Won't he give you time?" asked Teddy.

"He would, if I hadn't already asked for it the last two months in a row," I said. "He's not willing to cut me any slack this month. He said it up front."

"Asshole," said Monica.

"I have it," I said. "In my grocery fund. But if I use that, Anna-Maria and I are going to be eating rice and tuna for a while. I can't do that to her."

"No tips?" asked Monica.

"Not today. Or yesterday."

"It'll turn around!" said Grace trying to be warm.

I shrugged, not really reassured. I'd made eighty bucks with my only John for today. I really hoped I got someone else. But I didn't have the tits to get the topless charge like Kelly or Monica did. As was the case with any establishment, tips were welcome but not mandatory.

I tuned them out as Monica started bitching about her baby-daddy, who was some wannabe gang banger. I downed coffee. One of the best things about working here was the fact that all those on the 'special menu' got free coffee. That was sometimes a lifesaver. Especially if you worked all day, like I was today.

I decided to get up and go take my lunch. I had only just gotten here when I'd been picked by my John. I would rather not swallow more cum with nothing else in my stomach. Coffee services here began at 7AM while the special services began closer to 10 out of respect for the fact that most of us had to get our kids to school, daycare, or whatever babysitter we had. I told our boss, a woman named Georgia, that I was taking my break and stepped outside.

I ate in my car out back where the staff parked. Away from anyone coming into our out of the parking lot out front. To answer a question I know you are wondering, has anyone ever figured out this place is basically a blowjob brothel disguised as a coffee shop? I asked Kelly the same question. How had the cops or someone's vengeful wife not figured out what went on here? All Kelly said was that Georgia knows people. Kelly had then said it was best not to ask any more questions about it. Georgia tended to think those who pried deeper might be either undercover cops or plants sent to find prove this was a bowjob brothel, and bust the place up.

I ate my food in peace, wondering once again how in the hell I had gotten here. I did that about a hundred times a day, despite knowing the answer without Monica having to tell me beforehand. Just as I finished my food, I noticed a very fancy car pulling into the customer parking lot out front. Like some kind of Mercedes or Bently or whatever. A rich customer?

I hopped out of my car and went back inside. A rich John could be exactly what I need to make my rent for this week. I got back inside and found Monica, Grace, and Kelly all gossiping excitedly like school girls. Teddy was not doing the same but I knew he was excited. There was a surprising number of rich clients who were in the closet and would pay to fulfill that urge.

A few moments later, our 'madam' Georgia came in. An older woman who's hair was already completely grey, she was a thin, wispy looking woman. Like a good gust of wind could knock her off her feet? You want to help steady her as she crosses a street. But she was anything but week. She kept a blowjob cafe running in the modern age when it was so easy to be found out. "Jennifer?" she asked me.

"Yes boss?" I said. She'd dock your pay if you called her 'ma'am' so we only ever called her boss to her face.

"Someone wants you."

I kept a smile from my face. Hopefully it was whoever was driving that expensive car. I followed the boss, mentally smirking as I heard Monica grumble. Once we were in the hallway, Georgia stopped me. "This isn't the usual kind of meeting," she said to me.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Jenny dear, I have connections as you know. This is one of them. The Cafe is not the only service I provide."

I stared at her. It didn't take much effort to guess at what she was hinting at. Full sex work instead of just oral. I suddenly found myself filled with dread. Full prostitution was not what I signed up for. It may sound ridiculous considering I do suck dick for money, but I do have some principles. "Boss," I said. "I thought you didn't-"

"Offer full service? You're right. I don't. Not here. Not for simple money. But this is not simple."

"I'm not-"

"I know what you're going to say," she interrupted me. "I've heard it before. 'I'm not a hooker'. But let me explain. This man represents a very rich, very powerful man in the corporate world. This man is a single man who married his work. While it's made said man rich, money does not provide him comfort at night. So he comes to me. In exchange for a large payment, for both me and the girl in question, I provide him with warmth at night."

I held my breath for a moment. I didn't want to do this. Not go that far. I'd already sunk lower than I ever thought I would. This would all but finish what remained of my self-respect. My face must have given me away because Georgia spoke again. "Jennifer dear, please don't pretend you weren't aware of the possibility."

"I've never heard of this," I said. "From Kelly or the others I mean."

"Of course not. They don't know. I don't tell them. It's hard enough to get girls who will willingly suck dick for money. If they knew they could be selected for this special service, it would make recruiting even harder. Or worse, it would make them all resent each other if one was chosen over the other. I don't need that kind of drama in my cafe."

"So why me?"

She smiled. "Because to be perfectly honest, said rich man has a thing for pretty blondes with their girl-next-door looks. You fit that to a T."

I shook my head.

"Jenny," she said. "Think of Anna-Maria."

That pissed me off. "The fact that I'm here, sucking fat old men and frustrated house husbands off for peanuts should tell you I very much am thinking of my daughter!" I said hotly.

"Lower your voice," she said in an admonishing tone.

"Don't dare use my daughter against me!" I snapped.

"You haven't even heard what this pays."

"Fine. Tell me ma'am!"

She narrowed her eyes at the use of the word she hated but clearly forced herself to remain calm. "He pays me thirty thousand. You would get an additional fifteen thousand directly from him."

That stopped me dead, angry as I was. Fifteen thousand! Fuck, I could pay all my bills and have a nest egg underneath me! I could quit this job and get a real one!

"I see you are more interested now," she said to me.

I couldn't pretend anymore. As bad as it was, it was for Anna. For my daughter. Was she worth it?

Yes it was. She was worth it in every sense of the word.

One night of playing hooker and I'd be able to get ahead for the first time since being fired from my office job because of Anna's father. "Fine Georgia," I said. "I'll do it."

"Good girl," said Georgia. I glared at her as she said that. I hate being called 'good girl' like she hates being called 'ma'am' but she ignored my glare and spoke warmly. "You won't regret this." She turned to go meet with whoever was here to represent whoever the rich man was.

I would regret it, I thought to myself. Just not enough to not do it. The things we do for our kids. My Anna-Maria is worth it. I'll do this, get paid, quit this demeaning job, get a real job, and regain some self-respect. Okay, maybe that last one would be tougher but survival has to come first.

My boss returned a moment later and brought me to the person who was making the offer. "She is perfect," said the man, who was an older man that had the look of some kind of lifelong assistant. He was more than half grey in his hair and it made him look elegant I thought.

"I told you," said Georgia.

"Who am I dealing with?" I asked.

"We don't use names for obvious reasons," said the man. "You may call me John. My client is Mr. Smith."

I wanted to roll my eyes in response but I also didn't want to lose fifteen thousand dollars. "All right," I said. "Do I need to wear anything specific for Mr. Smith?" I asked now.

"That will be provided. In fact, it already has." John gestured to a bag beside him. A dress bag. It looked sky blue.

"Will it fit me?" I asked.

"It will," said John.

"How do you know that?"

"Georgia provided me with your measurements," said John. That made me glare at Georgia. Boss or not, no girl liked that information being given out. Georgia shrugged my glare off. I looked back to John. "Are there any further questions?" John asked me.

"How do I get wherever I'm going?" I asked.

"You'll be picked up at the appropriate time, which is five-thirty this afternoon," he supplied.

"How long will this take?" I asked now. "I do have a daughter to take care of."

"You will be back by sunrise. And you will be paid in full. In cash," said John.

"Is there a way I should act?" I went on.

John looked surprised at this one. "Like his date out for a fine night," he said. "Is there another way?"

"You'd be surprised," I said. "Some guys like their dates to be standoffish or ice cold. Or act like naughty stepdaughters."

"Mr. Smith is looking for a date, not a battle, or a hormonal stepdaughter" said John.

"Are we going to his place afterward? Or to a hotel?"

"A hotel," said John. "For obvious reasons, you cannot be seen around his usual dwelling. And for that same reason, you will take no pictures of him in any way."

I knew that one was coming. "Fine," I said. "But don't think I'n giving my phone up. I need to be able to keep in touch with my family."

"Of course," said John. "Any further questions?"

"Does this guy want kinky stuff? Because I don't do that Fifty-Shades stuff, rich or not."

"Oh no," said John. "Mr. Smith is nothing like that, you have my word. What is required of you in the bedroom regard will be normal. Anything else?"

I had no more questions to ask so I shook my head. "Splendid," said John. He nodded to Georgia. "You will be picked up at your home at five-thirty sharp, Miss Jennifer Cranston." He gave me and Georgia a nod and departed, leaving the blue dress bag behind.

"Well done," said Georgia.

I sighed as the realization of what I had just agreed to hit me. I was really going to cross the line fully and be fucked for money. Prostitution. Not just sucking dick for a living. Damn it.

But it was for Anna-Maria. And it would make it so I would never have to do this ever again. I was tempted to turn to Georgia and give her the 'take this job and shove it' speech but I realized that would probably be a bad idea until the money was in my hand. So I just nodded to her and turned away from her. "Remember," she added as I made to leave. "Don't tell anyone about this! If anyone asks, it was nothing."

I nodded again. "I assume I can go home?" I asked her over my shoulder. "I have to set up my daughter being watched for the night." Georgia nodded to me. I was finally able to depart and left her then, ducked Grace, Kelly, Monica, and Teddy all wanting to know what was up, and left the cafe. I went home, played with my daughter, her laughter and joy reminding me what all of this was worth. I arranged her to be babysat by my parents overnight, which thrilled Anna-Maria. She loved her grandparents. Despite my parents not being happy with me becoming a single mother so young, they loved Anna and did what they could for her.

I could only pray to God that they never found out about this. About what I really did. That went for them and Anna herself. I went back home, took a shower, prettied myself up for the first time in a long time, then put on the blue dress I had been given by John. It did indeed fit me well, and as I checked myself in the mirror, I had to mentally admit it made me look really hot. So I wasn't too mad about it. Then I put on high heels, grabbed my purse, and waited.