This is my first ever written story and I'm not a native English speaker. So I hope you may forgive some wrong use of punctuation, etc. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Epilogue
It was a warm spring day in the end of April. From time to time a stiff breeze waved through the air but guys already welcomed the warm season by hauling their open-topped cars out of the garage and girls by dressing in miniskirts and short tops.
Walter McMillen was driving home from his job. He worked in a warehouse in the industrial park of town. This area wasn't what it used to be in the old days. Most of the stores had shut down and the warehouses were mostly disused and run down.
He had to stop on a red traffic light right across a warehouse he had worked in some years ago. But now it was shut down too. In front of it, a woman caught his eye. She was obviously a hooker wearing an extremely short red leather miniskirt slit up at the side, black platform high heels and a black boob tube without any straps that was only held up by her breasts. These breasts made his jaw drop. They were at least D cups, and he had never seen a hooker with such great looking tits. She had long dark almost auburn red jet hair that flowed down her shoulders. She leaned against the warehouse wall with one foot pushed back against it in a most notorious hooker-fashion and smoked a cigarette drawing on it with her luscious red lips. The cig was held by her long fingers with black polished nails. Although she was dressed like a cheap hooker, she didn't seem to fit into the scene. With the smoke waving in front of her face, she appeared more like a dancer in a cabaret back in the 1930s - wicked but untouchable.
Suddenly, a police car drove into the dark alley next to where the hooker was standing and came to a halt. Walter's first reaction was to drive away as fast as possible. He didn't want to get into trouble with any cops but the traffic light was still red.
The hooker threw the cigarette onto the ground and started slowly walking to the police car. Meanwhile, the door of the car opened and a middle aged cop appeared. He looked exactly like anybody imagined your small town cop with a large beer belly and a hard looking face sweating profusely under the warm spring sun. Walter could very well imagine how badly he smelled of body odour and cigarettes.
When the big titted hooker had almost reached him, she suddenly fell onto her hands and knees crawling the last few yards over the dirty concrete until she stopped right in front of the cop.
"What do you want, whore?" he asked harshly.
"Please sir, may this filthy ho service you?" she asked looking up at him.
Without warning, he grabbed her hair with his left hand and her cheeks with his other hand. He pushed her cheeks together hard until she was forced to open her mouth. When she did so, he spat a big white glob of saliva right into it.
"Gulp it down, whore! That's all your good for, eating spit and cum," he hissed at her.
He roughly pulled her top down over her tits and began mauling her left plump melon with his free hand while still holding her hair. He squeezed the flesh at the base pretty hard making her grunt. Only, Walter couldn't tell if the impression on the hooker's face was one of discomfort or pleasure.
After mauling both her tits several minutes, he pinched her nipple hard making her wince.
"Suck my dick!" he spat at her.
While the cop still pinched her nipple, the street walker started opening his zipper. She pulled his trousers down while her tits hung heavily and plump down from her chest. She freed his rapidly hardening cock that looked to be at least seven inches long and was surrounded by a thick matt of wiry, black pubic hair.
Walter couldn't believe what he was seeing next as the cop sat down on the driver seat with his legs out of the car pulling out a sandwich and starting to eat it.
Meanwhile, the hooker lowered her bright red lips and started kissing the blood engorged head of his dick. Her tongue licked around its rim and then travelled down its entire length to his balls. The cheap whore opened her mouth wide before pushing her lips fully over the cock. Her head started bobbing up and down the top four or five inches of his blood filled member.
All the while, the cop was munching on his sandwich. Then he grabbed her hair again wrapping it around his free hand. With this vice grip, he started pushing her head further down his cock. He didn't stop when his shaft reached the entrance to her throat instead forcefully pushing on until her lips were pressed against his balls and her nose deep in his pubic hair. Having the cock forcefully shoved down her throat in one swift motion made the hooker gag loudly. She pressed both her hands against his thighs trying to get her head up and off the dick. But the cop gave her no chance holding her down for what seemed like hours to Walter. The street whore began gagging repeatedly her eyes watering. Her black mascara started smearing and running down her cheeks.
All this time, the cop went on eating his sandwich as if nothing was happening. Salad dressing gathered in the corner of his mouth and some of it even dropped from the sandwich right onto the hooker's red hair. After he had enough, the police man pushed her head up again giving her just enough time to draw in a deep breath.
"Come on whore, no hands, let me fuck your face like it was a cunt!"
The hooker only nodded limply before he rammed her moist mouth back down his rigid thick shaft. He started pumping her head up and down his cock in a rapid pace always ramming it as far down as possible. Her fat fucktits started whipping rhythmically. Before long, loud gagging noises started emitting from her struggling mouth. Saliva started running out of her mouth in streams totally bathing his straining member. After several minutes of this face fucking, he was finally ready to cum.
"Open your mouth, cheap whore! Get ready for your daily meal!"
While the hooker gasped for a breath, a big wad of cum burst from his cock right into her open mouth. She almost choked on it and wasn't able to keep it all inside as some of it dribbled down her chin.
"Swallow!" the cop ordered and she obeyed gulping the entire load down.
Walter McMillen shook his head.
"The cops aren't what they used to be anymore either," he said to himself before getting his car back into gear. But before he drove off, he had the strange feeling that the still kneeling whore looked over to him with a wicked grin on her face.
Driving home to his wife and his two kids waiting with dinner for him, he couldn't stop thinking about this big titted hooker that seemed to be at the bottom of all whores. And he asked himself how this could have happened to such a ravishing looking young woman.
Chapter 01
Two years ago, Vanessa Laren had been a 25 year old young woman living together with her boyfriend Mark in a small apartment. It was all they were able to afford as they were both unemployed. She had just finished her apprenticeship as secretary but her company hadn't offered her a subsequent job. Unfortunately, her marks hadn't been very high, her arrogant attitude standing in the way of getting along well with her boss. Until now, she hadn't received a single answer to any of the job applications she had sent away.
Mark, being of the same age as herself, didn't have a better prospective of getting a job either as he hadn't finished his apprenticeship after almost getting into a fist fight with his boss. Nowadays, he was hanging out with his pals most of the time drinking beer and watching sports on TV.
This was not the life she had always imagined for herself. She wanted to be the one taken care of. She wanted a husband that brought home the money and loved her for spending it to look good for him.
At the moment, money was always a problem and the two got into a lot of fights concerning this issue. Although they were both unemployed, Vanessa still spent lots of cash - actually more than they even had. She blew a lot of it for her body care going to the tanning salon for a nice tan and having her nails manicured once a week. She thought that a special body needed to be treated specially. And special was exactly the way she looked. Most people would say she was a stunning beauty standing 5'6" tall with a trim figure and an incredibly tight ass weighing around 115 lbs. Her straight jet dark red hair flowed over her shoulders almost reaching her waist becoming wavy at the end and her attitude matched the one everybody told about red heads. She used to accentuate her green eyes with black mascara and liner. This gave her the look of a vamp mesmerizing every man. Still, the most striking parts of her body were her 36DD breasts, perfectly formed mounds of flesh that - despite their size - were not hanging down as one would expect but standing firm and proud. They provokingly pointed upwards from her chest as if begging to be cupped by men's hands. Sometimes, jealous girls commented on them as looking fake and every time she almost got into fights with them declaring her bust to be as natural as possible. In reality, she had gotten them enhanced when she worked as a Go-Go dancer some years ago. But she would never tell anybody about that little secret of hers.
Vanessa was used to men looking after her and enjoyed the attention she was getting. She loved dressing up wearing either short skirts, nylons and high heels or skin tight jeans with high heeled boots. She always wore tops showing off her bellybutton. Moreover, she loved accessories gracing her body with golden bangles around each arm, a golden waistband and a piercing in her bellybutton. Walking through town, feeling men gazing after her with their wives standing next to them, always gave her a good feeling letting her know how beautiful she was. She knew that every man was yearning to touch her but no one would be able to conquer her. She was very picky with men - especially their outer appearance. A lot of woman that knew her, described her as an arrogant bitch that knew about her impression on men and that exploited this power to the last.
Due to her high demands, they already had a minus on their bank account and Vanessa had just quit a temporary job as waitress in a trucker restaurant near the highway. She hadn't liked serving people from the minute she had walked inside. She always considered herself to be the one getting served, not the one serving others.
Because of the urgent need for money, Vanessa had applied for a job as secretary in a law office although she assessed the prospects of getting the job to be very small.
After waiting several weeks for an answer, her hopes of working as a secretary were down again and she didn't have a lot of alternatives than going back to the trucker restaurant and asking her former job back. This would be the most degrading thing she could imagine but there was no choice left.
It seemed like a wonder when she was invited for a job interview the next month. She tried to dress handsome but still respectable wearing a blouse, miniskirt and blazer. She pinned her hair up to give her a more business-like appearance but still tried looking sexy with a fresh French manicure and dark red lipstick.
The law office was inside an old building awakening an aura of power, making her legs wobbly when she stood in front of it. After having to wait 15 minutes, she was called into a huge office. Three men were sitting behind an awe striking mahogany desk. In the middle sat a man in his late 40s with hair and temples beginning to turn grey. He introduced himself as Mr. Stanton, chief partner. From head to toe, his features were radiating authority intimidating Vanessa. For the first time in her life, she lost her voice only being able to stutter her name. To his left side sat a man in his early 40s with dark hair and cold steely eyes called Mr. Miller. He was looking very sporty and fit. His cold eyes mustering her stuck in Vanessa's memory from the first second intimidating her even more. To his right side sat a man with a big beer belly and balding hair of the same age called Mr. Erickson. The entire scene made Vanessa very nervous, and she was convinced not a single tone would come over her lips when asked.
"So you want to start working for us?" the grey haired Mr. Stanton started talking. "We read your references and we have to say that they do not correspond with our expectations."
