*** This is an story concept, that I am thinking of making into a series. I would appreciate any thoughts on this, and as always, I appreciate any input on my writing and the direction you would like to see the story go. ***
Chapter 1
Wiping the thick, sticky cum off my face, I laugh at myself, thinking, "The things I do for a good rating." But seriously, it is less about the rating, and more about the handful of twenties, that the guy tosses down on me, as he is getting out of my car. That's what really matters, and THAT is why I stick with this shitty job at all. I currently work for a rideshare service, whose name I will not share, because I do not want to get myself into legal trouble with them. It is clearly not my dream job, but as you might have guessed from the previously mentioned cum on my face, I am making the most of the opportunity. I guess I should back up a little, and tell you who I am and how I got here.
My name is Karen. Yes, I know. I hate it too. Believe me, I get it ALL the time. It was never a problem growing up. I even liked my name. It wasn't until recently, that I started to be ashamed to even give my name for my Starbucks order. I want to be clear. My name is Karen, but I am NOT a Karen. As you hear my story, I think that will come through loud and clear. So, back to my story...
I "blossomed", as they say, early and in a BIG way. I was always a petite girl, but then when I was 18, in a life changing twist of fate, the Boobie Fairy came one night, and "POOF" she hit me with a double dose. I am not kidding. It was like I went from no cups, to DD cups in the blink of an eye. Not that many people blink when they first meet me. It is more like they lose their ability to blink. Apparently, they also lose their ability to see my face or keep their saliva in their mouths. And I am not just talking guys, girls too.
I could say that I was embarrassed and ashamed by all the attention. I could say that I am a modern woman, that wants to be taken seriously. I could say that I don't want to just be known as the hot girl with big tits. But who am I kidding? I fucking love my big tits, and all of the attention they get me. I am no rocket scientist. I always knew that I wasn't going to college on some scholarship. I realized early on, that my body was my ticket to getting what I want out of life. Life gave me these lemons, so I was going to make some lemonade, the kind of lemonade that guys will pay serious money to get a taste of.
As you can imagine, I was very popular with the boys, and I was serving up a LOT of lemonade. I was not hung up about sex. My father was never in my life and my mom had a constant parade of men through her bed room. That kind of de-mystified sex for me. My mother also taught me that a little sex, goes a long way, toward getting what I want. As my Algebra Teacher would say, "Life lesson "A" plus tits "DD" equals opportunity."
It didn't take me long to go from sucking guys' cocks for buying me a nice meal, to just skipping the meal. I quickly discovered that I can buy my own damn meal, or what ever the fuck I want, with the money a guy gives me for sucking his cock. Sometimes, I didn't even have to suck a guy's cock. You would be surprised how many guys will pay, just to feel up a nice set of tits. I would say that the Boobie Fairy made me into a cash cow, but I will cut a bitch, if she calls my tits, udders, lol.
I don't want you to get the wrong idea. I am a lot more than a set of tits with legs. I actually have a great body. Before the Tittie Fairy blessed me, I was a very talented gymnast. I have a lithe body with good strong legs and a pert, round butt that looks almost obscene in a leotard and body suit. Yes, even before the tits, I hade more than my share of guys perving on me.
I know what you are thinking. Gymnast body and gymnastic talents, plus big tits... DING DING DING... You guessed it... Stripper. "Exotic Dancer", please... Oh, who am I kidding? I was a stripper, and I was DAMN proud of it. To test the waters, I started dancing at a club that did amateur nights. I wanted to see if the reality was as good as the fantasy. The bottom line is, I fucking LOVED it. The energy of the crowd watching me with lust filled eyes, is like a drug that switches my brain "off" and switches my pussy "on". Not just "on", It dials it all the way up to 11.
I quickly discovered that guys REALLY like a stripper, who obviously enjoys her work. I became very popular and was soon getting a lot of lucrative offers, from some of the more upscale clubs. I finally got an offer I couldn't refuse. That is how I started dancing at the most exclusive, and upscale club in LA County. Again, for legal reasons, I will keep the name to myself. The name is not important, the opportunities I got from that job, are what are important. And I am talking some AMAZING opportunities.
I had a number of high rollers, who liked my "energy". I would like to say, that I became rich and lived happily ever after... But this is not THAT kind of story. I let myself get overwhelmed by the lifestyle. I lived for today and didn't think about a long term plan. I figured I didn't need one. In fact, when I attracted the attention of a guy with WAY more money, than looks, I figured I hit the lottery. He loved spending money on me, and I love having money spent on me. It was a marriage made in Heaven, as they say.
Yeah, he actually married me. Who does that? I am girlie enough to admit that I love the movie "Pretty Woman", but I am a grown ass woman, and I know that, that shit doesn't happen for real. So, when he got serious with me, I never expected it to be as life changing as it was. I have to admit, I was overwhelmed by the whole experience and didn't go in with a long term strategy. If I did, I would have done a LOT more research on pre-nups. As it turns out, the term, "What each enters the marriage with" actually means something. Yes, you guessed it. It meant something VERY bad for me.
I should have known it would all end badly. As it turned out, I had an incurable disease. I was getting old. After 15 years of marriage, my disease apparently became unmanageable; for him, at least. Lucky for him, he was able to find another girl with a much less advanced form of the disease. In plain language, he dumped for a younger girl. So with a less than adequate termination package, I found myself on the street, alone.