Side Trip: Vi Moves On

Side Trip: Vi Moves On

Note: This is a bit of a side-step from Cori, Nikki and Adam's story. Vi (Cori's Monther) is someone who won't have a big part in the main storyline, but I wanted to you to know her a little better. There is some light taboo/incest, depiction of sex work, and discussion of drug and alcohol abuse in this, so feel free to skip if that bothers you, there should be nothing confusing in the ongoing story if you just skip this one. If you're still reading, I hope you enjoy it!

"Hi, my name is Violet and I'm an addict and an alcoholic."

That's me, most people call me "Vi" or "that bitch" or in one sorry case "mom". Today is the first day of the rest of my life, I guess. Yesterday I abandoned my 18-year-old daughter who I've given up my entire youth to raising and (mostly) resenting her. Yesterday was probably the best day of her life.

Now that I'm on my own it's time to get my shit together. I mean, not all the way together, but somewhere better than where I am now.

I'm 37 years old but I look closer to 47. At 18 years of hard living while trying not to totally fuck up my daughter's life have had a toll on me. I've got long blonde hair (bottle, not natural) that I mostly wear down, brown eyes, and naturally olive skin. I look kind of like if a Kardashian and a crack whore had a baby and then fed it a steady diet of cigarettes, bad dick, my own cooking which consists mostly of Campbell's soup cans, mixed with various meats and carbohydrates in different ratios.

I used to be hot. I'm not going to lie. I was a nice piece of ass in my teens (as my asshole dad let me know on a regular basis). You can still see hints of it if you squint hard enough and hold your breath. 5'4, naturally slender with big tits. In a DDD push-up Bra tucked under a tight sweater like I'm wearing today, they look pretty fucking fantastic. Pregnancy, bad eating, and booze have left the skin underneath a bit more loose and saggy than you might guess from the outside, but packed into this sweater and skinny jeans (and the miracle of shapewear) I still turn a few heads (mostly towards my tits). I've got a nice bubble-butt, long legs, and my painted toes sparkle pink in my open toed strappy flats.

I've got big brown eyes and I wear a lot of makeup around them. I top it all off with a generous application of bright red lipstick. Basically, I look like what I am, an aging hooker (I guess I'm supposed to say sex worker now). Anyhoo, back to the present, I was just about to bare my soul.

"I've never been to a meeting before. My last drink was about 18 hours ago which is about 12 hours longer than any other period in the last 15 years. The last time I didn't have any sort of opiate in my system was during the Obama administration...look I know I'm supposed to stop that too, but one thing at a time, right?"

I get a few nervous chuckles from the crowd. There's an old guy in the back staring at my tits hungrily, I give him a "talk to me afterwards" bat of the eyelashes and raise of the eyebrow and go back to my story.

"I moved out here to get away from my life. I've been self-medicating for a long time. Some fucked up shit happened when I was younger that is none of your business but suffice to say, it ruined me.

I'm a bad person, and an even worse mother. I left my daughter back in Chicago with her best friend and my brother. I suspect that will be the best thing that's ever happened to her. Maybe someday, if I can really get my shit together, I'll try to be in her life again, but for now she's better off without me.

I've had an assortment of odd jobs over my life, some legal and low paying, some less legal and better paying, but it's all just been enough to keep the lights on, feed my daughter, and pay for my habits. Those habits over the years have included just about anything you can ingest in liquid, pill or injectable form that can take the edge off this shitty life for at least a little bit. In the last few years I've narrowed it down to just booze and pills, and yesterday I decided to cut booze from the equation. Progress!"

Another nervous chuckle. The guy in the back is adjusting his cock in his pants. He's pretty sure of what's going to happen after this meeting, and he's probably right.

"So, I don't have much more to say. I'm going to start this 12-step business and see where it gets me. Anyone has any advice or ideas on how to fill the time now that all the fun stuff isn't an option, let me know, I'm all ears. Thanks."

There's some polite clapping as I head back to the coffee station in the back and fill up. Someone else heads up to tell their sad story as I dump irresponsible amounts of Splenda and creamer into the cup.

"Hey, I'm John." I hear a voice from behind me. It's the old guy from the back who was giving me the fuck-me looks. "I've got some ideas on how to pass the time if you want to talk after the meeting."

I turn around and he's right there smiling down at me. He's somewhere in his 60's, 5'10 ish, bald, with a bit of a belly and an obvious ring-finger tan line. He's clean shaven, smells like old man cologne, and appears to have all of his teeth. A solid "8" in my book.

"Thanks

John

let's talk afterwards, I say as I head back to the empty seat next to where he was sitting, letting my butt sway just a bit more as I move away from him. I can feel his eyes drilling in, fish on!

The next couple speakers pass in a blur of mediocre sob-stories. I know it's not a competition but I can't help but compare myself. I know I've had it harder that a lot of these Karens who drink to add some excitement to their soul-less mini-van lives. Or the businessman who needs coke to fuel his massive business success. Yeah Judgey Mc Judgerson, blah blah blah. John has his hand on my thigh and is groping for my crotch "subtly". I set my hand on his and give him a "patience" look. He calms down a bit, but I can see the bulge in his jeans twitching. Somebody took his little blue pill today.

After the meeting wraps up we head to the parking lot. "Did you drive, or do you need a ride?" he asks.

I look at him, "I think I'll let you give me a ride...maybe you'll take me to get me something nice?" I say, raising a brow suggestively.

"What did you have in mind?" he looks a bit confused, it's so cute when they start to realize it's going to take more than pure charisma to get what they want...men constantly over-rate just how desirable they are. I can think of one man in the last 20 years who I'd have let fuck me for nothing, and well, that wasn't such a good idea either.

We get to his car, and I snuggle up to him, letting my hand brush against his cock through his jeans (not bad, average, but with some girth). I grab his hand and pull it into my tits. "I collect clean-crisp hundred dollar bills...in pairs of 2...or 4 if you're feeling ambitious and you took your vitamins today."

The confusion, disappointment, and then resignation on his face was almost cute. He rallied, though, after a moment "A pretty girl like you deserves something nice. We'll have to make a stop on the way though."

He opened the car door for me (what a gentleman) and let me into his late model Toyota. We headed out to the parking lot. "You're not a cop or something are you?" he said a couple minutes later as he pulled up to an ATM.

I squeezed his dick through his jeans. "You get a lotta cops fondling your Johnson big boy?"

He groaned as I started to unzip his jeans and slide my hands into the opening. "If you are, just take me to jail afterwards, ok?" he joked.

I give him a coy smile and start to warm him up. He withdraws $400 and hands it to me, "This should be good for a few hours of your time I hope?"

"Plenty sweetheart." I say huskily as I slip the bills into my handbag.

"Do you have somewhere we can go?" he asks.

Ugh, I hate having to use my place, but married guys do make the best repeat customers. I give him the address to the apartment I'm renting and we're back on the road.

Now that he's a paying customer, he's gotten a bit bolder. "It'll take about 15 minutes to get there. Why don't you see what you can do with this while we're en-route." He unbuckles his belt and button and slides his jeans and underwear down to his thighs.

His cock isn't bad. A nice thick 4-5 inch shaft is poking up cheerfully into his belly. It's surrounded by a bush of salt and pepper hair, with a lovely circumcised head oozing just a drip of glistening precum. I slide my finger along the slit, gathering his sauce and stick it in my mouth.

"Mmm baby! Got more where that came from for me?" I flirt.

His cock twitches and hardens. They love that shit. Why men get so excited about someone tasting their cum I'll never understand, but nothing works better to get an old dick ready to pop than letting him know how hungry you are for his special sauce.

I slide my hand down to cup his saggy balls. Fondling and tugging on the wrinkly skin as I lower my head into his lap. He groans as I slide my cherry-red lips over the tip, swirling my tongue on the slit and giving a light suck. His right hand settles on the back of my head and pushes it down until I've got his whole cock in my mouth. I run my tongue all over the shaft while I start bobbing up and down on him.

This isn't comfortable, my head keeps bumping the steering wheel, and it's an awkward angle to go in over the transmission stick and into his lap. I want to get this over with as soon as I can before I fuck up my back so I pop his cock out of my mouth and start to lick his sack, popping the nuts into and out of my mouth while my right hand creeps its way further back. When my long fingernail starts to tickle his asshole he twitches hard enough that the car swerves slightly. I pop up and drive myself as far as I can down his shaft. His head just barely pokes the back of my throat and I can feel him pushing back against my face. A few seconds later I feel the first twitch and he moans "I'm coming!" as his salty load shoots down the back of my throat. I swallow all 4 shots immediately, trying to minimize the time his seed is in my mouth as he furiously fucks my face.

After a moment he starts to subside and I lift up my head and settle back down on my side of the car. I open my handbag, pull out a tissue to wipe off the rest of my lipstick (and any residual semen) and then re-apply my signature shade.

"I thought you looked like a good cock-sucker" said John, "but damn, I haven't come that fast in years."

He looked pleased with himself, as most men do, as if he and he alone is responsible for what just happened. I humor him.

"You've got such a nice cock baby, it's a treat." I wink, "Can't wait to feel it in my other holes. It's a good thing you sprung for the $400 package, or you'd just be dropping me off now and not coming inside."

He keeps his eyes on the road, but his hand moves over into my lap. I let him play around with the zipper to my jeans and undo the top button for him. He not-too-gently feels around, finding the warmth of my pussy. I wouldn't say I'm dripping, but I am a bit turned on. What can I say, money is the best aphrodisiac. His finger pokes around with futility on the outside of my Spanx so I push down on top with my hand and start to grind back up into his hands. "Oh baby, you're getting me so turned on! I'm so wet for you."

The dry finger-fucking seems to satisfy him of his sexual prowess, "you like that slut? You want my big fingers in that pussy don't you? I'm going to fuck that pussy so hard you'll be begging to give that money back by the end of it."

I porn moan for him as I continue to grind on his hand. "I can't wait for you to fuck this pussy baby."

Thankfully, he rounds a corner and I see my apartment come into view. It's a row of old duplex-style buildings with driveways on each side and a split down the middle to separate the two units. I tell him to pull into the driveway under the carport.

We get out and I move to open the side door. "Forgive the mess, I'm still un-packing honey." I apologize, as he sees the room full of boxes. "Luckily the bed is the first thing I set up." I grab him by the hand and guide him across the living room to the bathroom, "Why don't we hop into the shower together first, though?"

He's not dirty or smelly, but I always like to clean a guy up before I let him into my bed. We move into the bathroom and I turn on the water to start it warming up. When I turn around he's already got his shirt off, and is sliding his jeans over his ankles. The clothes are in a wad on the floor and he's standing in just his socks. I move up to him and kiss him deeply (he paid for the GFE, after all, and at my age you've got to go the extra mile to make them come back) pressing my body into him as he starts to push my jeans to the floor, he's a bit confused by the Spanx, so he moves to the sweater instead pulling it up to expose my tits. I lift my arms and help him guide the sweater around my earrings without getting caught and minimize the amount of hair-pulling. With my top off his eyes finally get a look at the prize he's been coveting. His hands immediately move to my tits, and he squeezes and fondles them roughly.

"Oh thank God these are real!" he praises, "I can't stand fake tits."

I slide down the shapewear and panties until all that's left is my bra. I turn around with my back to him. He's still groping, sliding his fingers under the tops and searching for my nipples. He kisses the back of my neck, pushing the long-blond hair out of the way and working his way down my neck and shoulders.

"Do the honors?" I ask, pointing to the clasp of my bra. He reluctantly gives up on digging for gold in the cup of my Bra and fumbles with the back. He's not too clumsy and within a few seconds the girls are free. I turn around and grab the back of his head, pulling him in for another kiss. My boobs hang and sway from my chest loosely. What look like full globes in a bra are quite a bit less round and hang nearly to my belly. My areolas are large and stretched, and my nipples are huge and puffy, sticking a good ways out with ends like a baby-bottle. Between breast-feeding Cori and some ill-advised piercings, my nipples have seen better days, but they're still sensitive and soft and I moan as he gathers each breast in his hands and sucks on them. I give him a moment to enjoy himself, and admittedly enjoy it a bit myself as he sucks and licks before I step back and point to the shower, "You first, let me put up my hair."

He reluctantly disengages and hops into the water, letting out a bit of a yelp, "Hot!" as he turns the heat down a bit and lets the water cover him. I grab a tie and gather my hair into a messy bun while I watch him enjoy the shower. He's no prize; his chest has a bit of sag, not man-boobs level, but typical for a man of his age. He's got a modest patch of gray hair on the chest and on his belly and an absolute thicket in his crotch. His belly sticks out, if you know what a Dad bod looks like, this is a Grampa bod. His cock is semi-erect, and a long sack of balls dangles like a pair of cat toys waiting to be batted around. As he turns around I note his non-existent ass and a pair of love handles, typical white-guy ass. His feet are kind of gnarly and stained, like he mows the lawn barefoot or something, and I find myself hoping he isn't a toe-guy. All in all, another day on the job. I should be able to squeeze some enjoyment out of this, and he's definitely a candidate to become a regular.

I step in with him and he politely steps aside to let the water hit me as he takes in my body. Like I said, my tits sag a bit more than I'd like them to, but he doesn't seem to mind. My belly is soft and the skin is loose with a bit of wrinkle, a tiny flap at the bottom overlapping my waist. My pussy is trimmed up neatly. The outer lips are large and floppy, coming to a wavy little wishbone at the top to cover my clit. He reaches down with his hand and begins to fondle them, playing with my clit a little before wandering down to my opening. His finger slides in easily (It's not exactly fort knox down there) and he fingers me for a few moments while I reach for a sponge and lather it up.

"Let me wash your back," I instruct and turn him around, pulling my crotch away from his nails (which really could use a trim). I give him a good scrub, especially working the area between his legs and the crack of his ass (this sponge is going in the garbage after he leaves) before I soap up my hands and start to work the front, fondling his member and balls as I lather them up.

His semi-limp dick starts to harden again as I work his shaft with my sudsy hand. I wonder if I can get him off again in here, but I decide not to try...we'll be here all night if I let him fuck me after coming twice already...

"Shall we move to the bed?" I whisper into his ear.

"Oh yes!" he moans.

I reach to the side and turn off the water, beckoning him onto the mat. I hand him a towel and say "Dry yourself off, and feel free to use the blue toothbrush." I gesture to the sink, where a toothbrush still wrapped in plastic sits in the cup next to mine. Come in when you're ready.

I grab a towel of my own and slip over to the bedroom, drying off on the way. I've actually got two bedrooms, and this is the one I set up for work. It's nice to work from home now that I'm alone and not have to pay for a hotel for incalls.

I quickly strip the cheap bedspread and toss it and the towel over the chair in the corner. I reach into the nightstand and remove a couple of condoms and some lube, which I sit on top before making my way back over to the door just as he comes in.

"Tell me what you want baby," I whisper in his ear, and then start to work his neck and lobe.

"I want to taste that pussy!" he moans, "Then I'm going to fuck you in the pussy and ass."

"Oh yeah baby," I agree, "That sounds amazing. Do you think I can handle that big cock in my ass?" (I can...and like I said, you gotta go the extra mile when you're competing younger, hotter girls).

He pushes me roughly back to the bed and I fall onto my back with a squeal and faux-giggle. "So hungry baby! Get down here and make me come!"

He kneels on the floor and pulls me to the edge of the bed, legs dangling. I reach over and hand him the bottle of lube. "Help me out a bit baby." I ask in a sultry tone.

He squirts about half of the bottle onto my opening before ramming his fingers into the hole. I wince a bit, as his nails are not the most pleasant, but then he's in and it's not so bad. I let my mind wander.

As it often does when I'm trying to distract myself from a mediocre lay, my mind wanders back to the one and only time I have ever truly made love. This always helps me get in the right frame of mind for my client, and lets me enjoy it a bit more.

My first time was with my Brother, Adam. It was my 19

th

birthday and we were dirt poor. He'd spent every dollar he had to take me out to one of those fancy restaurants downtown (the kind you have to dress up for). He somehow convinced the waiters to give us a bottle of wine and I got tipsy. When we got home I realized I didn't want the night to end so I asked him to sleep with me.

I know he was reluctant at first, but I also knew he wanted me. I looked damn good in that dress that night and he didn't look so bad himself, a tall, muscular man not ripped like a body builder but solid, like a refrigerator or an offensive lineman (which he had been).

I climbed into the bed first, in only panties, after slipping my dress off. He hesitated for a few moments, staring at my naked body (my tits were Fantastic back then, perky and full and just as big as they are now. I could see his cock harden under his khaki pants.

"Please, I don't want to be alone," I breathed.