All individuals in this story are 18 or over
Daddy's little girl, that's what I used to call myself when I was young and innocent. Daddy's girl. Even though he technically wasn't my father, just the man who'd raised me and brought me up into this harsh world with all the tools I needed in life. My real father, the rat, as he was called on the rare occasion he was mentioned, had split and ditched us the minute he found out my mother was pregnant. Sometimes I wondered what my life would be like if he was still around. Would I have grown into the woman I am today?
I tugged on my short black skirt, lifting the hem high enough to reveal most of my long slender legs but not so high that the entire population of London could see what I ate for breakfast. I had just waxed, and the skin along my toned thighs and calves glistened. My feet were manicured with my toes painted a deep blue, and encased in a set of my finest killer red heels that added at least a few inches to my height. My mahogany top hung low, revealing a glimmer of cleavage. I was bra-less of course. Who needed support up to when you had tits that sat like mine?
I whipped my phone out, flicked it open and typed: "Be there in five." I marked the message with a single kiss and pressed send. I fluffed my wavy blonde hair and touched up my jet black lipstick in the mirror. My phone buzzed with his reply, which consisted of just a single thumbs up.
At least this one wasn't a time waster. I'd had so many recently. It was getting harder and harder to get good clients, especially ones that paid as well as this guy had.
If you hadn't already guessed, I'm a hooker, of course. Not your average hooker mind you. I'm that one in a million. Men paid thousands just to get a taste of what I had to offer. I didn't blame them of course, I am just that fuckable, or so I'm told. One night with me and you'd never want to pull out.
I clicked my makeup pouch shut and blew myself a kiss in the mirror before strutting out of the bathroom into the downstairs lobby. My heels clicked on the floor with every step. A young looking receptionist locked eyes with me and nearly dropped the phone she was holding in shock. Even women drooled over me.
It was a long ride to the top, and my client was waiting at the very top. The penthouse suite. A pretty penny that must have cost him, or her. My client gave a name, but you never knew in this type of business, and to be honest, I didn't mind a bit of female action from time to time. The women really knew how to make my body shudder, but it really was no substitute for a thick bit of wood to sit on.
As the numbers above the door began to drift upwards I began to wonder who had booked such an expensive room. A celebrity? Someone with power? I'd seen my fair share of important people and this felt like something of that nature. If only their wives knew all the dirty things I'd done with their husbands. I had more than enough dirt to end a few carers and marriages alike.
I shook my head and fluffed my hair again willing myself to get in the mood. The anticipation before the session always made my blood boil. A shiver ran down my spine. The power I was about to have when the elevator pinged open was the best part about this job. Most men were putty in my hands from the second they saw me. I was just praying to god whoever was up there wasn't ugly. I could deal with it if they were a bit rough around the edges, but anything less and it just took away some of the fun.
The elevator finally pinged and the doors slid open with a hiss. The room inside was huge. A set of expensive looking leather sofas sat in the center, facing one of the largest television sets I'd ever seen suspended of a cracking fireplace that cast dancing shadows across the marble coloured tile floor. The far wall wasn't a wall, it was in a fact a window stretching from floor to ceiling across the entire width of the room flooding the place with the most beautiful view of the city I had ever seen.
"Hello?" I called out and gingerly stepped out of the elevator.
"Just a minute," a voice called from an adjoining room. "Make yourself comfortable!"
I smiled to myself and made my way across the room to the glass window. My high heels made loud clicking noises as I walked. As I walked I fluffed my hair again and tugged my skirt up even higher, revealing a few more centimeters of the legs that would undoubtedly be spread open based on the room alone.
I was impressed. This was a good start. On top of the generous amount of money I'd already been given, I got to spend the evening in this gorgeous looking hotel room, which wasn't really a room, more like an apartment. It didn't really matter much what the guy looked like at this point. If he was attractive, that was a bonus. The amount of money this must have cost him had already got my motor humming with excitement.
I peered out over the city. The dancing lights below were mesmerising. I could just catch sight of my reflection in the mirror, and I looked ravishing. If only daddy could see his little girl right now. He'd probably be angry, or disgusted. But I'd take this one night of work and pleasure over a lifetime of slaving away in some boring dead end job any day of the week.
I'd decided, as I peered out over the city, that the next few hours of my time with him were going to be nasty. Perhaps the nastiest I'd ever been, and that was saying something, because I'd done some pretty questionable things over the past few years. All of them orgasm inducing of course. Maybe, if I blew his cock off, I'd get a huge tip. Maybe he had a huge tip? I giggled to myself at the thought as my inner monster was starting to awaken and it was ready to devour something thick and long.
Suddenly there was the sound of glass shattering from behind me. I whirled myself around in shock, twisting on one heel wrong, snapping it with a crack sending me tumbling to the floor.
I blinked a few times, refocusing my eyes on the man standing above me.
"Harley!" I heard him say.
My mouth dropped open and for the first time in my life I had no words to say at the sight of him. All my plans for the evening had just took a nosedive off the side of the building and lay dead on the floor in the street somewhere below.
"What the hell are doing here?" My father said.
_____
"I'll buy you another pair," he said as I cradled my high heel in my arms.
I was sitting on the sofa now, looking down at the floor as the heat from the fire licked at my cheeks.
"I can't believe this," I whispered, more to myself than to him. Every feeling of seduction and power had drained from my body leaving nothing but revulsion. "I just can't believe it!"
Frank, that was his name, placed a warm hand on my bare shoulder. I shrugged it off and stood bolt upright. My feet began to slap on the floor as I paced up and down in front of him. My heart was racing in my chest. I didn't know whether to just storm out and never speak to h8m again or slap him to within an inch of his life.
"No harms been done," he said watching me pace. "We've done anything!"
"Don't give me that crap! What if i was someone else, some other hooker you'd paid for sex. You'd be humping away at her right now wouldn't you? What about mum!"
"Look..."
"No! Don't honey or baby me, you're married, to my mother! How could you do this?"
"I could say the same thing about you! You're a hooker?" He said and leant back on the couch as if the entire situation hadn't just blown up in his face.
"I think me being a hooker is the least of your worries right now," I replied.
Frank sighed and shook his head. "Finance, that's what you told us you did. I always wondered how you made so much money but hardly ever went to work."
I suddenly stopped pacing and glared at him. "My profession is not the problem here, I make money with what im good at! You were about to cheat on mum!"
"I know how much you make," he smirked at me. "I paid you remember?"
I couldn't believe this was happening. How could he do this to me, to Mum. We all trusted him and now I find out this. I had to sit down. My stomach started to tighten and twist in all manner of directions.
