Andre was in love. Not with a woman but with Europe. Like so many others, he had chosen to spend his last summer in college Eurorailing his way across the cultural capitals of the world. He had spent a few days in Paris, before heading over the Swiss Alps. He had loved the music scene in Vienna where he had heard an entire concert of Strauss waltzes played in a church. Backpacking had been enjoyable, and he had met some great people along the way. In Athens, he had met a group of Danish girls, and after a night of Ouzo and dancing, he had ended up in bed with Ana, a blonde with perky tits that needed constant sucking for her to cum.
Now he was on a train to Rome, which was his last stop before catching a train back to Paris and then to the States. He was sharing a compartment with two gorgeous Yugoslav women who had very little interest in him. Their summer dresses though gave Andre lots to look at. Both women had farm girl boobs that shook freely with the movement of the train. At times, their nipples would stand up tall, forcing little peaks to form on their dresses. Andre was debating going to the lavatory to relieve the tension building in his pants, when the reached Trieste on the Adriatic. He was sad to see the tow women get up to leave, but the sight of both of them reaching up to retrieve their bags from the luggage rack gave Andre views of their asses he would treasure for a long time. Their dresses rose up over their buttocks revealing tiny cotton panties covering their wide crotches. Both had well-tanned rumps suggesting days of sunbathing on the Aegean coast.
Andre was alone in the compartment, but his erection was still raging, when the compartment door slid open, and a dark-skinned woman in the shortest, pink dress walked in. She hurriedly closed the door and Andre admired her well-muscled thighs. She smiled at him and sat down on the seat opposite. The top halves and insides of her boobs were revealed by the low cut dress. He was surprised that she had no bags, but as he looked at her dress a little longer, it occurred to him that this lady was not just here to travel. He remembered his guidebook telling him that a large number of hookers in Italy came from Africa, especially Ethiopia. If that was indeed true, then this woman was the prettiest prostitute he had seen. Her skin was the color of milk chocolate; her hair came waving down past her shoulders with a cute black band to keep it out of her eyes. Her eyes seemed almost Chinese in their shape, but it was her lips that captivated Andre’s lust. They were full and painted a deep red. He could imagine them on his throbbing member when she spoke.
“You traveling alone?” Her accent was hard to place, but clearly she had learned English well.
“Yes, to Rome for a few days,” he revealed.
“Do you want a friend …a girlfriend to keep you company? My name is Asmara. But you can call me Mara if we …if we get to know each other. So you want me to stay?” she asked as if she was asking for the time.
André had never been propositioned by a hooker before, so he did not know how to proceed. This woman was hotter than any woman he had fucked and he knew he would hate himself of he let this pass.
“How much would it cost me?” he decided to ask, hoping that was not insulting.
She stood up, allowing him to enjoy her shapely figure as she stood up. The already too-short dress had risen up so that most of her thighs were uncovered. Each thigh was firmly muscled without any sign of any fat. Her legs tapered perfectly down, past bulging calves, to her pink pumps. She placed one leg on the seat next to Andre, which had two effects. First it raised her ridiculously short dress another inch so that he could see her black, lace panties. Second, with her crotch directly in front of his face, he could smell the tangy perfume of her pussy.
“Well, it depends on what you want?”
Andre had not realized there was a hooker menu.
“Straight fuck, you on top until you come is 100 euros.” She shifted her leg so that he could get a better view of her panties pushing into her slit.
“What else could I get?” He asked, more out of curiosity than a need to know.
“It costs 10 more if you want to do doggy-style,” now that sounded good, Andre thought, shoving his now fully erect pecker into her rump.
“But it costs 120 euros if you want me on top.” Andre looked up at her well-formed boobs and thought that must be a popular item on the menu.
“Why is that more?”
She seemed momentarily annoyed at having to explain her pricing system. “Well, for one, I have to work much harder to make you come; and second …well, a lot of men get quite excited by these so close to their face,” she squeezed her tits together, creating a deep cleft between them, “and they start sucking them, which is fine, but many of them lose control and start biting …hard.”
Andre could understand as well. Her nipples were now pushing out of her dress, and her little squeezing demo had resulted in one of her very dark ones peaking over her neckline (more of a titline, since it was nowhere near her neck, Andre thought.)
“Some of them even make them bleed, they bite so hard.” That seemed wrong, he thought, but why did she keep saying “hard”, it was driving his pecker mad.
“And that is all without kissing, kissing on lips costs 30 more.” He had heard that about whores and with her kind of lips, red, luscious, wet, there must be hundreds of me willing to pay the extra bit.
“What’s your cheapest item?” he asked like a good backpacker, even though he had saved quite a lot of cash thanks to the great exchange rate.
“Hmm… for only 30 euros, you can see my titties, for 50 you can suck them, and for only 25, you can see my ass.” Which seemed to Andre to be a waste since he could see most of her butt right now for free, but the titty view for 30 sounded good.
“A hand job is 70 euros and a blow job is 80 euros, “she continued, now on a roll, “but that is if you want me to swallow. It is 90 if you want to pull out and come on my face or titties.”
“How come?”
“How come is that cum is sticky and messy, and I would rather swallow it then have to clean myself up after sucking some guy off in his car.” That did make sense.
Andre was sure he could see a slight damp spot forming on her panty crotch. All this talk must be exciting her, he thought.
