Even though he dressed and came across as common working class, Jim was actually a very sophisticated man. He'd traveled the world as a merchant seaman, in fact that is how he'd saved enough money to be a landlord of several properties. He spoke Spanish, was well read, and was a gifted conversationalist. One would never know this to look at this ordinary looking man in blue workers clothes who drove a truck.
Jim had a mildly perverted side. He'd set up the table with table cloth, candles etc like a dinner party only I was in my lingerie, semi-naked, and it was like a date. Then half way through he'd come over and stand in front of me, and I'd suck him off. Jim insisted on shooting his load on my breasts and on my face, then he liked to have me sit there with cum all over my face and tits and we'd talk just like it was normal dinner party conversation.
As you can imagine, it wasn't long before I was straddling Jim and bouncing up and down on his cock. His enormous cock was giving my tiny little Asian pussy the juiciest squirting wet orgasms, and I was simply loving our little 'arrangement'.
I didn't mind doing it. I didn't mind any of it. I figured this was my side gig, and it was a hell of a lot better than having to take an actual second job to pay the bills.
About three months into our little arrangement, Jim floated a proposition. He asked me if I would like to make some real money, better than what I was making at my stupid job. I had a pretty good idea where he was going with this. His offer was for me to be his personal prostitute, and I would be allowed to stay rent free along with a small cut of the profits, 20/80 to be exact.
"Don't be in a hurry to respond," he said. "I want you to think it over very carefully." He went on. "You're the perfect little Oriental Barbie Doll. You will always make good money, men will love your little pussy. All you have to do is pleasure them for a short time until they are done."
Quite frankly, I was a bit surprised it took him so long suggest this. Jim pointed out how I already was doing it for money, so it's not as if I was crossing any kind of big threshold. When Jim mentioned how much more money I could be pulling in, and pointed out how I could quit my job altogether and have a lot more free time, I agreed to it.
"And not to worry," he added, "I will install a security camera in case any incidents arise, and I'll be nearby to help you out, to make sure bad things will not happen."
He was right, I made good money doing it. Jim managed things, he would line up the 'clients' whom I would 'entertain' about five times a week, and at first it was exciting. Before I was Dolly the hard working shop girl. Now I was Dolly, the Professional Woman. Dolly, Love for Hire.
I would meet the men who came to my flat dressed in the expensive lingerie Jim bought for me; sexy bras, G-string panties, sheer see-thru robes and of course thigh-hi's and heels. He had me done up as a perfect little Asian fuck toy, and based on the twenty percent I was pulling in for each 'date', the men were paying top dollar for my services.
But after a few months it got boring. As time went by, I would often just get naked and lay on the bed, the 'client' would do his thing and then he'd leave. There was only one time things got rough with a client, and Jim, true to his word, was in there in a flash. He came busting through the door with a gun in his hand and had that guy grabbing his clothes and out of there in a flash. It was a side of Jim I never saw before, and hoped I would never see again.
Over time I came to accept my role as a Filipina whore. Jim was my pimp, selling my pussy - and the rest of my body - to a list of clients that he brought in. I was Dolly, the Whore.
Still, it paid better than waiting on tables or working retail - a LOT better - and the hours were a whole lot better. I still played around with Jim, of course, only now he was tipping me each time because now the arrangement was different. I know this sounds strange, but with Jim it was more like we were lovers than anything else. Beyond his gruff, working man exterior, Jim was a sensitive, sophisticated soul, and I loved that part of him, loved being with him. The fact that I was his hooker and he was my pimp was besides the fact, something that didn't seem to make any difference. Other than the fact that if it wasn't for our special arrangement, we wouldn't really have any relationship at all.
We took things even further. It started out in the shower; I was facing the wall and Jim was behind me, rubbing his hands all over my soapy tits with my straddling his hard cock like I'd done many time before -- not in me, but me riding his cock like a witch's broomstick. Jim always paid special attention to my pussy and my ass when we moved our hands all over our soapy bodies. This time, I had my hands on the wall when Jim moved his thumb right on to my butt hole and slowly started pressing it in. "What are you doing, Jim?" I asked.
