My Fiftieth Literotica Story
Foreword
I seldom write these nowadays, but it's appropriate here. The genesis of this work is me and
Djmac1031
discussing a story that he was starting to write. As is often the case, we were throwing around ideas. A suggestion that I had didn't work so well for his story, but I thought I could maybe turn it into something myself. So here we are [on the raggedy edge 😬], my alternative interpretation of his initial concept.
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IN THE BEGINNING
Mimi's 'phone bleeped. It was just after two in the afternoon. Someone was keen. Her day officially started at three, and finished ten hours later. But she was seldom that busy in the first half of her shift. A few people maybe took an afternoon off work. A couple of retired regulars might make contact. But the rush generally started after eight o'clock at night.
She was still in bed. Her last client had paid for an extra hour, which was nice; God knows the money was welcome. But he'd been a lot to handle. Pumped up on something he had taken no doubt. She still felt a little raw today and had decided to catch up on missed sleep.
Mimi took her 'phone off the nightstand. Agency business, the guy had some specific requirements and so had called early to make sure they were available. Respectful maybe, she mused. That could be a positive sign. And his request involved an orifice other than the one which was still a little tender from last night's activities. It wasn't exactly her favorite thing, but perhaps this was a Godsend in the circumstances.
She messaged her acceptance and looked up the location. A hotel. Not too far, plenty of time before four o'clock. As an afterthought, she asked if he had any clothing requests. The agency replied, "the usual."
Mimi got out of bed. Well she didn't really, Mimi didn't actually exist. Her name was Lauren. It's just the customers expected a certain type of name if you were an Asian girl. Even if you were from Trenton, not Bangkok. Even if you had majored in English at Rutgers. She even mimicked how her
yaai
spoke most of the time she was working. Apparently Jersey accents weren't that sexy.
Mimi found the item she needed, a metal tube, rounded at one end, and with holes in it. She unscrewed the shower head and replaced it with the tube. Grabbing a bottle from the hanging basket, she squeezed a little onto her hand and rubbed it between her butt-cheeks. A little more on the tube and she was ready. The metal felt cold as she slid it in. She paused, breathed deeply, and then pushed it further in. Holding it in place with one hand, she set the water temperature and turned the shower on.
As she felt herself filling up, the sensation was as uncomfortable as always. She reminded herself that clients expected girls to be magically clean, despite the dictates of biological function. Girls? That was something of a joke. She was thirty-two. Sure the benefits of Thai genes ensured her skin was wrinkle-free and smooth. But it was getting harder every year to live up to her professional age.
Mimi sighed. This wasn't exactly how she had seen her post-college life going. After careful and repeated sluicing, she was ready to switch back to a regular shower.
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THE HOTEL
Mimi pulled up in front of the hotel and again checked the room number on her 'phone. The place was on the outskirts of Philly. An impressive building, if in a neighborhood that had seen better days; much like a lot of the city. It now stood in splendid isolation, its brick walls overlooking hand car washes, overpriced parking lots, and guys who could get you whatever you wanted; so long as purity of product was of little concern.
With most other establishments, she'd have found a discrete place a few blocks away. But the head concierge here knew Mimi. Joel booked her every now and again, at a reduced rate of course. He smiled and said, "Hi Mimi," as he took her car keys and gave them to a colleague.
It was late summer, the temperature was in the mid eighties. And the walk from her car to the lobby was only twenty feet. But Mimi still wore a long raincoat. It was easier to arrive for an appointment dressed than to change. And she couldn't exactly walk through the hotel wearing what she was.
The lobby, much like the hotel itself, was a study in past grandeur. Gold leaf peeled from faded art deco architecture. There was a slight musty smell to the place; as if the outside air was seldom admitted. Mimi pushed the elevator button and was soon ascending to the fifth floor. The doors opened onto a faceless corridor, one which could have been in any hotel, in any state. Mimi walked past many doors before finding the one she was looking for. She pressed the button.
The guy who answered was wearing a robe and had clearly just showered. Respect again, thought Mimi. "Hi Alan, I'm Mimi from the agency." For some reason, she spoke in her own voice for once.
She was greeted by an initial look of confusion, followed by, "oh yes, come in." Mimi assumed it was not just her who was adopting a pseudonym.
He was younger than Mimi. Maybe late twenties. Nice looking, without being really handsome. She wondered why he needed to pay for company. Then long experience had taught her not to question people's motivations. As Alan held open the door for her, the narrow area of untanned skin on his ring finger was pretty obvious.
Alan, if that was his name, picked up some flowers, wrapped in plastic, from the room's credenza, and held them out. "For you. Beautiful flowers for a beautiful lady."
Mimi took the bouquet, unsure what she might do with it, and kissed Alan's cheek in thanks. Two words ran through her mind, 'first timer.' That was OK, kinda sweet.
"Thank you, honey. I'll try to get them in water soon. But... do you have something else for me?"
Alan looked blank and then realization swept over his face. "Oh, sorry, of course."
He picked up an envelope and handed it to her. It had a badly drawn heart on the front, run through with an arrow, and with "Mimi" inscribed in it.
"It's... it's all there. You can check." Alan blushed as he spoke.
Mimi viewed herself as a good judge of human character. She put the envelope into her purse without opening it. "No need for that, honey. Now why don't we sit down and talk about what you'd like, OK? Can I hang this somewhere?"
Alan nodded and Mimi unbuckled her raincoat, placing it in an empty closet. She assumed that her client wouldn't be using the room for much longer after she left.