The Girlfriend Experience (Chapter Nine)
Lindsay emerged from a deep, but short-lived slumber in the early morning hours to a sensation of euphoric, unrestrained happiness, and allowed herself to bask in it before trying to figure out what the cause of it was.
Why did she feel this way again?
The eighteen-year-old turned her head and saw Pamela’s luxurious mass of platinum blonde hair spread out across the pillow directly beside her. Realization set in, just like that, and Lindsay let loose with a sleepy, all-encompassing smile – the smile of a woman who had spent the night making love to her soulmate.
Oh, snaps. So, I wasn’t dreaming … it really happened!
But Lindsay’s feelings of elation were interrupted, unfortunately, by a notification sound from her cell phone. That damn thing could be incessant, and she wondered if the chime, if it was repeating, was what originally woke her. Not wanting to rouse Pamela as well, she leaned over and blindly searched the dark, unfamiliar floor with her hand to silence the device.
Once Lindsay found it and glanced at its touchscreen, a thick lump formed in her throat. OhmiGod! Sammy … an e-mail. You finally wrote me back. She tapped the icon and was about to read the message, but then realized now wasn’t the best time. Pamela was already up, rubbing her bleary eyes, her incredible frame wound in a blanket and propped against the headboard. A small glimmer of moonlight bathed the room and cast an angelic glow on her.
The instant they looked at each other, a 24-carat smile spread across Pamela’s face and tugged at the essence of Lindsay’s core. Pure desire flushed her.
“Morning, baby. You okay?” An extended yawn forced its way out of Pamela’s mouth. “Everything all right?”
Lindsay blushed, almost embarrassed by how fantastic it made her feel to wake up with Pamela like this. “Yeah, yeah, everything is fine.” Deciding she would check out the e-mail later, Lindsay put her phone into standby mode and placed it upside-down on the nightstand. “I’m hungry. I think I’m gonna go over to the kitchen and see if I can find something to snack on.”
“I don’t understand how you’re hungry after last night.” Stretching, Pamela moved closer and whispered into Lindsay’s ear. “You were quite ravenous and refused to stop gorging yourself, remember? You gave me three orgasms with that sexy little mouth of yours.”
Lindsay sighed and twirled her head about. Damn, I did. “You taught me well, I suppose. Will need to teach me some more too.” As Lindsay got out of bed and slipped into a pair of panties, she had the urge to crawl back underneath the covers and again feast on Pamela’s exquisite treasures. Let’s run off together somewhere, go on an adventure, and fuck. Fuck until we can’t fuck no more.
But there was that growl in her tummy, and Lindsay knew it would be smart to fuel up because she had a long (and hopefully profitable) day ahead. I’m gonna have a threesome with Pamela and that black guy from the website at one o’clock … and I’ll get paid for it too!
Lindsay leaned over and pressed a kiss to Pamela’s forehead as she’d settled back down and was fading away. And fast. “I’ll catch up with you in a few hours, okay? Try to get a little more sleep.” Lindsay made a move to go toward the door but stopped at the last instant and allowed herself another glance of Pamela’s mesmerizing face. “I love you.”
“Love you too, sweetie,” Pamela said, and Lindsay couldn’t have asked for a better way to start her day.
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“I never knew sex could be so good! Last night, it was … it was … incredible! Incredibly incredible!”
Lindsay was chatting up a storm with Jim in the parlor twenty minutes before the brothel opened. She had trouble sleeping overnight with Pamela's body pressed against hers while contemplating all the intimacy they had shared. Yet, she wasn't tired. Lindsay was still on fire and riding a surge of adrenaline, babbling on to Jim about her family, hiking, pet rabbits, cats, dogs, parakeets, and her newfound sapphic bliss with Pamela.
“I'm glad the two of you hit it off, hon. I've never seen Pamela act the way around another girl like she does you.”
There was something about Jim’s voice, or perhaps his mannerisms, that felt reassuring to Lindsay. Like a warm hug from Grandpa. Jim seemed to have a special bond with each of the ladies in the house and handled them all uniquely, even expertly. The atmosphere here would be completely different without him.
“You get in good with her, and you're going to be golden for however long you decide to work here. Pamela will take care of you like you wouldn't believe.”
But Jim realized Pamela had already taken care of Lindsay. He knew the only reason she still had a job here was because Pamela begged Colt to give her a second chance. Without Pamela, Lindsay would’ve been tossed out on the street and had the door forever slammed in her face.
“You look tired. Perhaps you should go back to bed and lay down too.” Jim picked up a piece of celery and showed it to her with a smile, then ate it.
Instead, Lindsay bit her lower lip to keep from grinning like a kid going to the amusement park. Lay down? Sleep? Who needs sleep? Pamela said my pussy belongs to her now and she'll never let go of it. Best. Night. Ever! Jeeze Louise, those orgasms she gave me were endless! She's just as into me as I am into her.
The festivities began in Lindsay's bedroom but moved over to Pamela's in the middle of the night. The sex was frequent and intense. Pamela took Lindsay again and again, checking off so many of her lifelong fantasies that she was left rocked, and in a literal broken heap.
I feel … so slayed.
Lindsay had been kissed, licked, caressed, fingered, spanked, throttled, and fucked in a variety of dizzying positions and role-play situations. They had sex for hours on end, all throughout the night, including one round in the kitchen where Pamela hoisted Lindsay onto the countertop and caused her to shriek out in orgasm by using a trio of fingers. Nicolette stopped by, unbeknownst, in the thick of things to grab a snack of her own, and the exhibitionism thrilled Lindsay, just one more amazing moment in a night (and week) overflowing with them. I kissed and made out for a while with Nicolette, too, and she wants to hook up with me and play when we have some free time!
Lindsay was happy. Overjoyed. Ecstatic. But there was something nagging at her, a dark cloud, an obstacle, that threatened to derail her journey to a happily ever after – certain eternal bliss – with Pamela.
“What about Colt?” The mere mention of that name was enough to intimidate the hell out of her. “I mean, I'd like to be in his good graces too.” But only so I could get closer to Pamela and steal her away. Pamela and I belong together! A warm shiver danced up Lindsay’s spine. She had wavered on her attraction for Colt these past few days – still upset that he’d suspended her, among other things – but the man was handsome and chiseled, and far too tempting. He’s a dick, but I’d still fuck him. Lindsay stifled the urge to snicker. For five hundred bucks, that is! “But I don't know if he likes me.”
On second thought, Lindsay had a better idea.
Colt could be my baby daddy. Maybe he could get both me and Pamela pregnant and we could raise our children together. I’d convince Pamela to divorce him, to be with me full-time, we’d fleece him for all his money, and seize ownership of the brothel too. …
Jim chuckled. “Do your job, hon – do it well – and keep your head down and stay out of trouble. Colt will come to like you in time, especially since you have something magical going on with Pamela. Yeah, Colt may not be the most outgoing guy behind the scenes. Trust me, though – Pamela is his kryptonite.”
Why can't he be more friendly and sociable like you? It was a horrific thought, indeed, but Lindsay would never cause chaos in Pamela and Colt’s marriage. I’m not a home wrecker. She furrowed her brow. Pamela loves Colt and them splitting up would absolutely destroy her. I don’t want to see her hurt.
Truth be told, she wished Colt was more like Jim. No wonder Pamela speaks so highly of you. Hands down, he was the nicest guy she had ever met. I need to sit on your lap sometime, Jimbo, perhaps give you a handjob, and let you come in my mouth. I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? It’d take your mind off Kenzie for a while too.
Lindsay believed she could trust Jim with anything. Calm and easygoing, he didn’t come across as the type to pressure any of the ladies into any decision. Rather, he was the one they turned to whenever they needed advice. If he and Pamela were married, I’d do anything I could to make it a three-way. Jim could be the Daddy I’ve always wanted, and Pamela my new Mommy!
* * *
The brothel had two thick, reinforced doors at its front entrance. At the top of the hour, Jim opened both and found a man in his early to mid-forties waiting on the other side. Cool; a customer first thing in the morning. He had on a casual button-up shirt, cargo shorts, and flip-flops. They shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. After the mandatory ID/age check, Jim invited him into the house and locked the inner door behind them.
When the brothel was closed from three to ten each morning, the outer door was secured and access to the doorbell was impossible. In the past, people spammed it overnight to be a pain in the ass. But in 2007, Colt had the second door installed so the employees inside could finally sleep in peace.
“So, bud. Don't think I've seen you here before.” Jim offered the guest a seat and poured him a complimentary brew. “What brings you to our little corner of the world today? You a local or a vacationer?”
“Vacationer.” Big, outgoing, and gregarious, Ryker Gamble was full of anticipation as he downed a gulp of beer. “I'm from Kansas, man, and snuck away from the little lady for a couple of days. Told her I was going to the casinos in Vegas, but the reality is, I wanted to do a brothel crawl.” He spoke with a deep bravado that, in Jim’s mind, bordered on arrogance. “I'm starting here and driving further north today and tomorrow and flying out of West Wendover on Monday. I prefer to blow my money on some hot, naked-ass chicks instead of losing it at the casinos.”
“Oh, truer words have never been spoken, bud. I prefer to spend my money on beautiful women instead of tossing it down the drain at the casinos too. It’s much more … fulfilling.” Jim had variations of this same discussion with prospective mongers thousands of times over the years. He knew exactly what to say and how to say it to entice them to open their wallets. “What do you do for a living?”
“I'm a doctor, man. An internist.”
“Oh wow.” A doctor? Really, man? Funny. To Jim, Ryker didn’t come across as the doctor type, but he’d been wrong before. He looks more like a retired NFL linebacker, six-foot-two of entitled male muscle. I wouldn’t trust him with my medical ailments, that’s for sure. “Have you ever been to a brothel?”
“When I was younger – fifteen, twenty years ago – I did a couple of crawls in Nevada and Montreal. Always fun to hook up with a hot, smokin' chick with no strings attached.” His lips curled into a wolfish grin. “I got married in 2016 – finally settled down – but now the itch is back, and I need to take care of it in the worst way, man.”
Aha, Jim thought inwardly. One of them. Quite common around here.
“Savannah – my wife – she's six months pregnant with our first child.” Ryker gave a strained head shake and when he lifted his eyes to Jim’s again, they were full of doubt. And fear. “Gonna be a boy.”
“A boy? That's wonderful. Congratulations.”
“It is wonderful, man, and thank you.” Ryker fisted clammy hands at his sides. “But the broad is drivin' me nuts! Life isn’t fair; I didn’t expect our marriage to be this way.” He swallowed hard and spoke in a flat tone. “Don't get me wrong – I love my wife but needed to get away from all her bitching and complaining for a few days.” Ryker looked sad, almost at wit’s end. “It's getting worse the more pregnant she gets, you know? Plus, she's lost all her sexual appetite, and it's killing me. I’ve got the worst case of blue balls in recorded history, man!” He pushed away from the bar. “It’s so damn upsetting.”
“Well, I think we could help you out there. Won't be a problem at all.” Jim’s heart fluttered at the thought of being married himself, specifically to Kenzie, and her being in the late stages of pregnancy. I sure wouldn’t leave Cierra at home and go running off to a brothel behind her back.
Enough of those thoughts, right? I got a job to do.
“We have eight ladies on duty and I'm sure one or two of them will fit your needs, if not more.” Jim was the epitome of professionalism when it came to customer service. His job was to sell, sell, sell. “Blondes, brunettes, raven-hairs, foreign imports; everything from the busty MILF to the eighteen-year-old fresh out of …”
* * *
“Hi there! Good morning!” From behind the curtain on the right side, Lindsay emerged with the sweetest, most sincere smile, and made a beeline to the man at the counter. Her suspension served, she was wearing a thin, peach-colored minidress and two-inch heels. Gorgeous, vibrant, and ready to earn some much-needed cash, Lindsay hurried off to her bedroom moments ago to change into something more appropriate when she and Jim saw a customer standing outside on the security feed. “I'm Kayleigh.”
“Sup, girl?” This mountain of a man appraised her from head to toe. “I’m Ryker Gamble. And you’re hot.”
Really? Sup? Is that a word people even use anymore? “It's nice to meet you.” I don’t like the vibe I’m getting from this guy, but his eyes are ravaging me. Lindsay all but ignored Jim as she smoothed out her minidress, extended a hand to Ryker, and nestled closer. 1995 just called and wants its pickup line book back. An icy chill speared through her chest. Remember what Pamela said about dealing with customers who make you feel uncomfortable. “How are you today?”
“Fine, just fine. And you are … incredible.” Though compliments were always welcome, Ryker’s glibness, his straightforward style, failed to impress Lindsay as he held her hand above her head and she did a pair of pirouettes.
“That outfit is so cute.”
“You're very sweet.” Hold back on the full-on, all-out smile; take it slow, let it blossom over time, and make this guy think you’re interested in him. Another thing Pamela had stressed was that flashing a smile right off the bat could seem disingenuous, even flat-out fake. Look at the man, assess him for five seconds, and then smile.
“Your body is … amazing. Wow, you're so sexy.”
“Thank you.” Lindsay motioned toward the bar stool beside him. “Do you mind if I sit down?”
Pressing his hand to her lower back, Ryker guided her over. “Please, by all means, do.”
Lindsay hadn't tried this yet, but Pamela also told her it was okay to snag a trick from the front before he (or she) asked for a lineup. Pamela said I have every right to. Besides, Lindsay thought she was the only girl in the house awake this early. Not sure, but think so.
“How old are you?”
“I'm eighteen … nineteen in December.”
“Oh, you're young. You have such a cute face.”
“Such a cute smile, cute eyes. Very attractive.”
“You're so kind.” Perhaps he isn’t a neanderthal after all. Lindsay was beaming at the excess praise but still didn't care for Ryker, regardless, as she'd heard his earlier comment about needing to be away from his pregnant wife. Like Jim, it turned her off. I don't mind if they're married, but that … it's just plain wrong.
But this was a brothel – things were different here – and it wasn’t Lindsay's job to pass judgment. Her job was to be a pleasure and orgasm specialist who had little to no morals.
Whores don’t know anything about ethics. She gulped her throat, her insides dissolving into shame and woe. At least, people don’t think we do. But she signed up for this job, right? This life? Indeed, Lindsay needed to work on putting up more of a barrier. I'll feel bad for his wife once I'm done counting the money I make from him.
She had to do a double take. Wow, cold. So unlike me, but maybe this place is rubbing off on me a bit. Ryker was fighting an uphill battle, though he didn’t realize it, because the party Lindsay had on Wednesday evening with Eric was still fresh on her mind. I will not let my guard down and allow one of these men to hurt me again. Her mindset would be different if she felt at ease with Ryker, a certain spark, like she did with Sammy. I wish every monger was like Sammy. He is the perfect man!
“So, how long have you been in the business?”
“Umm, this is my first week.” You’re young. Play your innocence up, don’t come across as someone who has gotten fucked multiple times this week. Pamela said it may be your greatest asset. “I started on Monday.”
“Really?” Ryker’s face went blank, as if his brain couldn’t process that delightful bit of information. Every muscle in him froze before another grin crept onto his lips and soon spread from one side to the other. “How do you like it so far? Been busy this week with customers?”
“No, not really. But it's still been a lot of fun.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Any customers yet?”
“Yeah … one or two.” Why not? What’s the harm?
“What do you like most about working here?”
“Meeting new people, especially older guys.”
“Older guys?” Ryker couldn’t control his excitement as he rubbed his hands and leaned in closer. “Shit, yeah … I like the sound of that.”
“I've always loved talking to older men and hanging out with them. I feel like they just … they understand. They get me, you know?” Lindsay trapped her lower lip between her teeth, the telltale innocence of a sex kitten in training. “So, I'm glad you and I can keep each other company this morning.”
“Does it feel kind of like … naughty?” Ryker scrubbed a hand over his face. “To be with an older, experienced man? To have him … balls deep inside of you?”
“Yeah, exactly.” Balls deep inside of me? Nope, he was a neanderthal after all. “I like to be naughty.”
“Where he throws you around? Takes control? Makes you feel like you … belong to him?”
He tugged her closer with a lecherous grin. “I like that. I bet your pussy is wet and tight.”
The pretty girl’s mouth twisted to the side, going tiny, and she tried her darnedest to forget this guy was a creepy loser, but no matter what she did – even attempting to conjure up Sammy’s face and no-nonsense charm – Lindsay failed. Ryker’s slick, superficial stare pulled her in like a moth to a flame.
This is bad news. Suddenly, Lindsay realized something. This hurtbag reminds me of Zack in more ways than one.
Lindsay wasn't ready for work yet this early in the morning. She hadn't bothered to dry her hair from the long shower when she first came out to talk to Jim thirty minutes ago. It was dry now, but looked frazzled. Her mascara still needed to be touched up, too, but the sexy little minidress and heels offset whatever drawbacks there were.
Lindsay could have taken a few extra minutes to make herself more presentable, but didn't want to risk another courtesan swooping in and getting to the bar before she did. Tag-teaming a customer in the lobby wasn't permitted unless he or she asked for two (or more) ladies. It was first come, first served.
Why take the chance? I look good enough as is. Pamela also told her that certain guys like to see girls only seventy or eighty percent ready because they were more “real” without all the makeup and excess glam.
Sure enough, Ryker didn't mind. Lindsay fascinated him as they spoke and got to know each other over the next twenty-five minutes. She was kind and attentive and hung on his every word.
A self-proclaimed “player” in his younger days, Ryker was looking at enjoying six to eight parties with different ladies today and tomorrow as he did a crawl of the central and northern houses. Happy Ending Ranch was his first stop. He spent the prior evening down the block, at the Twin Tops Motel, and admitted to feeling awkward doing this without his wife's consent.
“What Savannah doesn't know won’t hurt her.” Lindsay smiled brightly, trying to show Ryker that she was interested in him, not repulsed, because he reminded her of her ex-boyfriend. This is who Zack will be in twenty years. “Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do, you know? The thought of becoming a first-time father must be stressful, and you deserve to kick back and relax. I'd love to be the one to help you out.” I don’t like you, but I’ll fuck you regardless if you offer enough money. Wasn’t that the name of the game in every brothel? The way things were? For these women to have sex with strangers, even the most nauseating ones, guys they’d never be caught dead with in public? “I’m so glad you're here and I'm enjoying this discussion. This is fun.” Cold, girl. Ice cold. If there were any lingering doubts you’re a full-fledged whore now, I think you just erased them.
Sensing a party may be imminent, Jim ventured elsewhere to see if any of the others were awake. Lindsay was still a rookie and although she could handle herself during a conversation – as evidenced by the way she sweet-talked this guy – Jim still wanted another girl to do the negotiating for her. In a couple of days and with more seasoning, she'd be on her own.
Unfortunately, Pamela (Lindsay's designated Big Sister) was still sleeping. Jim would only wake her if he couldn't find someone else.
“I was thinking of asking for a lineup.”
“It's too early for a lineup, baby.” Baby was a common word in the house, and every working girl called their customers that. Heck, they called each other that too. “Management doesn't start calling lineups until eleven-thirty or noon because a lot of times, we like to sleep in.” She pointed toward an FPD monitor atop the bar. “All the girls who are here, our pictures and profiles scroll on the screen continuously. Hmmmmm … Pamela, Scarlett, Kenzie, Sahara, Riley, Nicolette, and Aaliyah are all available. Me too. If you see one you like, let Jim know, and he can go wake her up.”
You better pick me, though. I've been talking to you for a half-hour and would like to be compensated for it. Otherwise, Lindsay would’ve returned to bed so she could love on Pamela some more.
“It's okay, Kayleigh. I can have a lineup later.” Ryker took a fortifying breath and flashed a megawatt smile.
He is quite handsome and knows his way around women, despite that caveman mentality. Part of Lindsay was going to enjoy fucking him because he reminded her so much of her prior boyfriend. Though I hated him with a passion, I could never tell Zack no when it came to sex. Perhaps I should pretend Ryker is … Zack?
Sport fucking at its finest, right?
“I was checking out the website for this place last night and this morning, and you're the girl who caught my eye the most.” Lindsay dropped her finger from her hair and ran it along her neckline, as if she had a tickle there. Ryker’s eyes followed. “I want to be with you.”
“Yeah?” Lindsay was full of sweetness as she reached out and nudged the lump in his cargo shorts. “Awesome, because I want to be with you, too, baby.” What had happened to her? Lindsay almost lost herself in this shameful discussion, a small-town girl from a religious family who had chosen not to be a princess but a commodity, her body to be bought and used, held down for mindless pleasure, a hard cock coming and going at the rhythm her customer chose. “We could have a lot of fun together. Wouldn't you agree?” Shoving all the negativity aside, Lindsay gave him her best I-wanna-fuck-you look, her eyes soft and inviting, added a subtle lick of the lips, and decided it was time to turn up the heat.
Pamela had shown her some flirting techniques throughout the week in order to hook a customer. With Ryker, the most effective was the solitary dance. Lindsay bumped and ground her body in tune with the music playing on three occasions. Hair flips, head tosses, long, all-encompassing stares, and plenty of playful banter, she was waving her magic wand and drawing Ryker deeper into her spell. Lindsay positioned herself so that either her knee or foot were touching him at all times – displaying interest – and hung off him at one point during an extreme bout of laughter. Just like Pamela taught me.
Jim reappeared and had Riley, who still looked half-asleep, trudging along behind. Riley wore a gray tank top and a pair of hip-hugging denim shorts. She yawned but looked decent and alert enough. Riley took a seat at the far end of the bar and struck up a conversation with Jim, but Lindsay knew the real reason she was present.
After some more back-and-forth flirting, Lindsay asked Ryker if he wanted to go to her bedroom and talk about a potential party. He was interested, of course, and had no objection when she explained Riley would accompany them for the financial particulars. “This is my first week, and they don't trust me to do the right thing yet,” Lindsay said with a sheepish grin. “You and I can discuss all the details, but Riley is gonna do the negotiating for me.”
Moments later, Lindsay was seated on Ryker's lap while Riley, still half-asleep, stood by the bed and idly listened.
“I'm into a unique genre of porn lately. A fantasy, if you will. It's specific to catching the babysitter doing something … naughty.”
Big blue eyes captivated Ryker. “I've done my fair share of babysitting in the past and may have an outfit or two you'd like.” I’ve never babysat once in my life.
“Really? Wow. Yeah, so, I'll run it by you. I've been wanting to reenact a scene or two I saw in a porn movie. Babysitter, I come home, catch her, perhaps with her boyfriend. Or maybe doing something she's not supposed to, like lying on my bed.
“Grabbing one of my shirts, smelling my cologne. Playing with herself, perhaps, and I catch her … and fire her. And then she comes to me and begs for her job back.”
Her face danced with mischief. “So, you want me to be a naughty nanny?” I shouldn’t be surprised. Pamela, Colt, and Jim told Lindsay because of her age, she would get clients who requested this sort of thing. Use your youth to your advantage. Make some cheddar from it. These guys want you to be all coy and innocent.
“I can do that. I’d be happy to.”
“You like my idea? Does it turn you on?”
She extended her leg at a ninety-degree angle and regarded its high-heeled foot. “Makes my panties wet.”
Ryker laughed uproariously at her joke. “You like my idea. Okay, cool.”
Lindsay reached between his thighs and squeezed the growing bulge within his shorts yet again. “I'd be happy to fulfill your fantasy, baby.”
“Thank fucking God. Man, this is gonna be so nice.” It’d been a while since Ryker had an eighteen-year-old looker so intimate and close. “I picked a winner with you, honey.” He glanced down at her probing hand. “Your touch is … all sorts of good.”
Lindsay continued to play with his cock as Riley went over the pricing. Ryker wanted an hour-long GFE, and bartering took less than a minute. Riley asked for $700 and they settled on $550. Lindsay had learned this week to aim for at least $600 with every party so her daily rent would be waived, but she was fine going lower with Ryker because she had a threesome scheduled later with Pamela and HeavyD9116 from the bulletin board. All totaled, Lindsay would eclipse the magic $600 benchmark today with ease.
After the dick check and payment, Riley returned to her bedroom (and her fiancée, Sahara) and Lindsay pointed Ryker toward the trucker's shower down the hall.
But before going in, he had something to say.
“You know, I have a buddy back home named Chris. Chris Phillips – he's a doctor, too – and you remind me of his wife, Brooklynn, when she was younger. Good fucking God, Brooklynn is the sexiest piece of ass I've ever seen, without question, but she's always been off-limits because of Chris. Dude is like a brother to me.” His chest tight, Ryker spoke through gritted teeth. “Chris would kill me if I looked sideways at Brooklynn. She's twenty-four, but I've known her since she was eighteen. They've been together for six years, married for five.” He kicked at the floor twice. “You look exactly like her when she was in school.”
“I do? Oh, you poor thing.” Sadness welled in Lindsay's eyes, and she placed a gentle hand on Ryker's shoulder. “Brooklynn doesn't know what she's missing with you!” Lindsay leaned upward and pressed her lips to his for a soothing kiss. “You have the hots for her, huh?”
Lindsay got Ryker to open up and learned that back in the day, his secret crush was a cheerleader in college and the Homecoming Queen in high school. But Ryker had been friends with Chris for well over twenty years, and above all else, could never make a move on the man's wife. Besides, Brooklynn would never agree to anything with him anyway. She was a good girl, and Chris was the one and only man she desired.
But I’m not a good girl.
“Shit, I've had countless fantasies about Brooklynn over the years and you … you look … just like her when she was your age.”
This guy likes to repeat himself.
“I used to go to Kansas football and basketball games just so I could stare at Brooklynn as she cheered on the sidelines.”
“A cheerleader, huh? I have an idea, baby, if you're interested.” Lindsay touched his forearm. “I have a cheerleader's uniform in my room and could put it on for you.” The same one Jim helped me pick out in Oakfall. “Would you like that?”
A surge of hot lust shot through his veins. “Yes. Yes, I'd like that.”
“And during your babysitter fantasy, I want you to call me Brooklynn when I'm sucking your cock and you're fucking me.” She clawed at his arms and squeezed his considerable biceps. “I want you to think about Brooklynn – pretend I'm her when she was eighteen – for the whole hour. Don't worry about her husband. Don't think about him, okay? His name is Chris, right? Chris doesn't exist in your fantasy. You'll be fucking Brooklynn, not me. Brooklynn is going to be your naughty nanny.” Lindsay flashed the same heart-melting smile Pamela helped her practice and ultimately perfect this past Monday. “I won't charge any extra for the added role-play, either.”
Did Ryker just come in his shorts? Not quite, but Lindsay giggled at his animated reaction, regardless. Pamela had stressed time and time again that she had all the power here as a working lady – not the trick – and Lindsay was starting to realize it.
I have the pussy; I make the rules!
She glanced down at his hands, now circling her arms, her breasts moving up and down with every breath. “I'm going to apologize over and over for sneaking my boyfriend into your house while I was supposed to be babysitting and beg you to fuck me because you're the man I constantly fantasize about.” Ryker’s jaw dropped. “The one I always dream about and finger myself to sleep at night thinking of. I was thinking of you while sitting on your bed and sucking my boyfriend's dick.” She saw the desire building in his eyes. “I even tried on some of Savannah’s lingerie! If you want, you can put me over your knee and spank me for being such an irresponsible nanny for you and your wife's baby.”
“Sweet Jesus,” he whispered. “I’m taking my shower now!”
“Hello, Mr. Gamble. You wanted to see me?” Fifteen minutes later, Lindsay stepped into her private room with a frightened, desperate expression across her face as Ryker lounged on the bed in a complimentary bathrobe. Able to prepare herself while her client rushed through his shower, Lindsay was ready for the role-play.
So far progressed in her wicked line of work in such a short amount of time, she looked fresh and pristine – almost virginal – in her cheerleader outfit. Lindsay fixed her mascara and had her long-flowing, yellow-blonde hair done up in a pair of pigtails with black ribbons.
Her blue shell top was sleeveless and had a plunging V-neck design. She also wore a long-sleeve turtleneck shirt underneath it, its color white. The shell top was accentuated by a pair of red stripes across her shoulders and two more running down each side of the slim, tapered fabric.
The cheerleader skirt matched the shell top flawlessly. It was blue, but its knife-like pleats were red. The skirt was short and showcased stretchy red panties underneath. I know these panties won’t stay on for long either. The skirt swished and danced high on her ass as she sashayed closer. Black saddle shoes and white knee socks, showcasing her thin calves, completed the ensemble.
“Is this about getting my job back?” Lindsay looked more scared as she placed both hands together as if she were praying. “I'm begging you.” She bit her lower lip and pouted.
“Stop,” Ryker demanded as she kicked the door closed behind her. “Turn around for me. Let me see you.”
“Please, I'm begging you.” Lindsay did yet another pirouette, this one slow and steady. “I need this job. I'll do anything to get it back. Please, Mr. Gamble. Please!”
Ryker twirled his finger. “Do it again, Brooklynn.”
Lindsay turned on a swivel once more but was told to stop with her back to him.
“Now, look over your shoulder at me. Yeah, like that. Bend over, show me your ass. Reach back, flip up your skirt, pull down your panties, and open up those cheeks so I can get a look. Keep begging, Brooklynn. Don’t stop. I want to hear you beg.”
She brought a finger to her lips and wet it. “I want this job.”
“Bend over more.”
After sliding her panties down her thighs, Lindsay placed her left hand on her backside, then her right, and spread wide. Her mouth opened in a little ‘O’ of excitement, blood pulsing in her cheeks, as she blatantly invited this stranger to fuck her.
“That's it. Good girl. Good, good Brooklynn. Maybe we can talk about you getting your job back now.”
“I'm begging you. I need it.” She felt his large hand on her little one, a gentle squeeze. “Please, Mr. Gamble. Please!”
“I'm so sorry. Please give me my job back.”
“What are you sorry for?”
“I'm sorry for sucking Zack's cock and letting him fuck me in your bed.”
“You were a naughty girl.”
Her lower lip quivered. “I'm such a naughty nanny.”
“You really want your job back?”
“Yes. I need it really, really bad.”
“Okay, relax, Brooklynn. I think we can work something out that’s beneficial for both of us. This is how you’re going to get it back.” He spoke with authority. “I’m going to fuck you in that position, gently to start. Just raise your knee a little, why don’t you? That’s it.” Ryker unbelted his robe and shed it to the floor, proving he was a fine specimen of alpha. “Now, here comes my dick. You’re nice and wet, so it will just … slip …”
“Wait!” she bawled out, spinning and dropping to her knees before him. “I have to put a condom on you first!”
Their hour-long GFE was fun and chockfull of energy. Lindsay gave the client everything she had and let him live out a personal fantasy. (Jim, by the way, praised her afterward for coming up with the cheerleader thing on the fly and agreeing to role-play as a different person. Best of all, he assured her Colt would be impressed too).
The highlight was when Ryker lay on his back and made Lindsay ride his dick reverse cowgirl style. She bounced up and down freely, her little titties flopping, the back of the cheerleader skirt tucked into its waistband, until she felt his hands on her ass, stilling her. Lindsay glanced over her shoulder and sobbed as Ryker spanked her, with intermittent swats, giving her the discipline she needed. Lindsay closed her eyes at the pain and pleasure mingling together. She bounced her bottom up and down, side to side, clenched all her muscles to make the spanking hurt less, and luxuriated in the feel of his hard shaft penetrating the pink depths of her pussy.
“Come on, Brooklynn. On your hands and knees like the dirty little bitch I’ve always known you secretly are.” Lindsay rolled onto her stomach and put herself in the shameful bottom-up position that meant her feminine secrets belonged to Ryker, and Ryker alone. At least until his hour is up.
Then Ryker entered her, condom and all, and rode to his climax, swiftly and urgently, as Lindsay bellowed out her white-hot pleasure underneath him, and wondered how something so uncomfortable could feel so hot and fulfilling.
Ryker pounded her pussy again and again, and more deeply with each new thrust, but a different fulfillment had found Lindsay as well: she felt, in the aftermath, after Ryker had collapsed on top of her, spent, like she had become who she’d always wanted to be.
Oh, the fun I’m going to have working here. …
When their allotted time was up, Lindsay walked away with a $275 net and Ryker tipped her an additional $20 in cash. That was considerate and much appreciated, but Lindsay wished it was a gift card instead because she had to split cash tips with the house. The others are right. I work hard and don’t like it that Colt sits on his ass all day and steals half my income.
Though there was a protective covering on the mattress, the linens still got messy with cum and lube stains, anyway, so Lindsay had to take them to the laundry room. There were five linen sets in her closet (and plenty more in storage) that she could cycle through as needed. I think I’m gonna try the pink sheets next.
Lindsay changed back into the minidress and kept Ryker company in the parlor until he asked for a lineup shortly after lunchtime. It was perfect timing because she was about to tell him she had to step away and prepare for her next appointment. Lindsay and Pamela had the two-girl party scheduled at one o’clock with HeavyD9116.
While Ryker chose Kenzie from the lineup and busted his nuts in her for round two, Lindsay hooked up with Pamela for a quick talk and took an even quicker shower. Lindsay was going to change into a violet tapestry bustier that she'd been dying to try on – another outfit Jim helped her pick out during the shopping spree – but Pamela suggested the strapless white corset with the sweetheart neckline, all-over boning, and lace-up back.
“I know Darius well. He loves his women in lingerie and, because he's black, wants us as white as can be. Remember, honey – it's all about the customer and their happiness. Not what we want or like.” So, Pamela instructed Lindsay to slip into white G-string and matching fishnet stockings, along with her two-inch stilettos. “Trust me, I know what I'm talking about.”
“How can you wear those shoes and still walk around in them?” In addition to the seven-inch spiked heels, Pamela's sparkly stripper shoes also had three-inch platforms. Lindsay was incredulous as Pamela moved about effortlessly in her see-through white bodice, G-string, thigh-high stockings, and garter belt. “You look like an Amazon with those things on! You tower over me.”
“It takes practice, sweetie. We'll get you some platform shoes like this in due time – with four- or five-inch heels – and you can work on getting comfortable in them. It'll take a while. In time, you'll be able to go up to a seven like me. These are called Pleasers, and it's the sexiest brand of shoes on the planet. Most guys have a fetish for high heels – even if they don't realize it – because they flaunt our legs and butt like you wouldn't believe.” Pamela giggled, leaned over, and groped Lindsay's backside. “Not that your ass needs any improving, though.”
Jim eventually came back and informed them Darius had arrived and was waiting. Pamela explained to Lindsay that she wanted to use dental dams during the upcoming party for any cunnilingus.
“But I hate dental dams!”
“Do it for me,” Pamela pleaded. “If Darius wants to go down on you – which I know he will – you're going to make me look terrible if you let him do it without a dental dam because there is no way I'm letting a customer eat me out without one. No way, never, uh-uh.” Well, unless it was Corey from Indianapolis. Pamela would make an exception for him, but only him. “Please do it for me?”
Arms crossed, Lindsay jutted her hip out in annoyance. “Does that mean I have to use a dental dam on you too?” She’d spent a sizable chunk of the prior sixteen hours getting up-close and personal with Pamela's body, particularly her pussy. To her, that pussy was like a narcotic, and she was already a crazed addict. Lindsay invested an hour on it straight at one point and brought Pamela to the first of three orgasms. Getting Pamela to come like that was, like, my proudest accomplishment! “You said Darius will want us to fuck each other too.”
“I have no problem foregoing the use of dental dams when you and I are alone together, honey.” Actually, she did, but Lindsay was so damn irresistible and sweet, Pamela couldn’t tell her no. “But if we're with a customer in a threesome or a foursome, I want you – us – to use them. Okay? Can you agree to that for me? Please? It's an unwritten house rule. We all use dental dams in multiple girl parties.”
Lindsay pouted. “Okay.”
“After we're done, I'm going to spend a couple of hours with Colt. You know I love you, baby, but I love my husband more, and you and I spent nine or ten hours fucking each other in bed last night. And then several hours sleeping together afterward. I don't want Colt to think I forgot about him.”
Lindsay nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I understand. Maybe I can have another party or two before dinnertime?”
“How was the party this morning? Jim said you played dress-up for it?”
Lindsay smiled. “Ryker? He told me it was the greatest sex of his life. We combined a babysitter fantasy he had and some girl he has a crush on back home. I had Ryker call me Brooklynn from start to finish – her name, I guess – and put on a cheerleader outfit. He said I looked like her and the whole role-play blew his mind.”
Pamela chuckled. “Awesome! You have been such a quick learner this week; you’re doing a great job.”
“You told me to always listen to the customer and don’t be afraid to be creative. Clearly, fucking this Brooklynn chick was his biggest fantasy.”
Moments later, Pamela and Lindsay found HeavyD9116 – Darius Randall – at a circular table away from the main bar. Pamela ran over and gave him a hug to renew acquaintances. Lindsay did the same, but also took things a step further. I like this guy. The initial vibe was positive. She plopped herself right onto his lap and hooked an arm around his shoulder like they’d been best friends, even lovers, for years and began chatting. This experience will definitely be something new for me. I’ve always heard that once you go black, you never go back.
In boring little Citronelle, the only times Lindsay ever saw people she didn't know was on television. But since coming to Flagstone, they were out and about, and she’d met more new people this week than ever before.
Just in the brothel itself.
Darius was an attractive middle-aged fellow with a stocky frame and dark, piercing eyes. Lindsay had never thought about having sex with a black man before – mostly because she hadn't met one until now – but there was something in her that wanted to fuck him. I wonder how big his dick is? Is it true what they say about black guys? Whether or not this was a case of jungle fever could be debated, but Lindsay hoped they would hit it off and settle on a fair price for everyone involved.
Pamela was relaxed and thought Lindsay looked right at home in the arms of a strong, assertive stallion like Darius. She was small and fragile, yet Darius was literally two-and-a-half times her size. The contrast of their skin tones was sensuality at its most extreme.
Darius was enjoying himself too. He played with Lindsay's ponytail, groped various parts of her body, and slipped a hand beneath the front of her G-string panties. Lindsay squirmed on his lap and moaned as those thick, weathered fingers caressed her.
“And it's amazing to see you again, sweet Pamela.” Darius turned his attention to her and smiled. “You're … so adorable.” She let out a melodious laugh as he again reiterated, “You look amazing. Better than ever before, without a doubt.”
“Thank you. I've been doing lots of yoga and am hoping to run a marathon this November.”
“Strength training too.” Pamela curled her right forearm as if she was lifting weights. “Look at that.” She flexed her bicep with a serious expression and laughed.
“Look at you, though.” Pamela reached out and latched onto his own bicep. “You've been working out. It's fucking huge; takes two hands, wowzers.”
Just like his dick, I’m sure.
Lindsay grinned leisurely at the thought and ran a fingertip along Darius's chest as he asked Pamela, “You still enjoying your gifts?”
“I am, and you're so sweet! I'm wearing the perfume you had shipped to me on Tuesday.” She held her wrist up and let him take a whiff of the fruity aroma. “You got my e-mail, right? Told you I got it and thanked you.”
“Wow, smells great. And I did. I'm glad you're enjoying it.”
“All the jewelry too. So beautiful.” Pamela pursed her lips together, looking sweet and sexy with her head tilted to the side and that effervescent smile peeking through. “You have spoiled me and Scarlett rotten over the years. You're one of the most generous clients we have.”
He pressed a kiss beside her ear and whispered, “Promised you I was going to come and visit you again before the summer was over.”
Pamela laughed. “I know, and I'm glad you did.” She reached over and massaged Lindsay's kneecap. “And this time, we have a new toy to play with! You're going to be Kayleigh's fourth client.”
“Pamela has told me so many good things about you, sir,” Lindsay chimed in, “and I'm looking forward to the three-way party with you and her.”
“Come here.” Still focused on Pamela, Darius placed his hands on either side of her face and, this time, kissed her on the lips. That was discouraged by management in the bar area, but Darius had partied with Pamela several times over the years, so Jim allowed it to slide this time. Besides, there weren't any other customers around. If there were, one could get the wrong idea if they saw another client getting intimate with a working girl in a public space. Things could get messy in a hurry.
Despite being such a valued (and trusted) patron, Jim was listening to every word said between Darius and the two ladies.
“You drive me crazy, Pamela. You and Scarlett both.” Darius gave her a deep, open-mouthed kiss and fondled her breasts through the silky white bodice she wore. Pamela offered zero resistance. He ran a finger down her cheek and across her jaw. “So fucking beautiful, like a supermodel.”
Although she knew Colt wouldn’t be happy if he saw Darius making out with her away from the bedroom like this, Pamela didn’t mind. This man bombarded her with gifts before and after every visit and deserved a couple of quick freebies.
A little kindness went a long way.
Darius's focus shifted toward Lindsay. “And I can tell you're going to drive me crazy, too, sweetheart.” He slid a huge paw to her ass and squeezed.
His silky-smooth nature was as thrilling as his touch, and the salacious gleam in those eyes added kerosene to the inferno already raging inside of Lindsay.
Twenty minutes later, he agreed to pay $1,500 for an hour-long threesome party.
Sunlight filtering in from the blinds, Darius relaxed in bed and watched Lindsay as she crawled toward his cock, her gaze fixated on it. He had to have this girl, sweet and innocent in her bridal lingerie, and saw in those eyes the concentration of a gifted prodigy learning a skill that would bode her well in future years. Darius’s heart felt so full that he experienced a moment of guilt he was paying this lovely girl to satiate his desires, sordid as they may be.
Kneeling next to his hip, Lindsay looked at him with a smile. “Sir, may I suck on your cock now?” When he nodded, Lindsay rolled on a condom and bent to the task. The image of her golden head bowing over his dick made his muscles stiffen and his heart shift into a higher gear.
“Yeah, yeah, baby girl, take it into your mouth. Don’t forget about my balls either. Can’t forget the balls! Yeah, up and down. Use your tongue. Oh my … I like that.”
Having had her face brutally fucked several times this week provided Lindsay a better understanding of how to perform fellatio and properly satisfy her clients. I’m a bed girl for men’s pleasure, a submissive whore, and I must satisfy them. She was learning more with each new party and carried that knowledge on to the next.
“Take me deeper now, sweetheart. As deep as you can. Oh, that’s it … perfect.”
Darius fisted his hands as Lindsay was doing much better than he anticipated. The sounds of a wet mouth worshipping dick rose in the otherwise quiet room. Did he expect Lindsay to lack these skills because she was a newcomer to the industry? Perhaps, Darius told himself, but she was a natural serving his needs and he was glad he got to her early. To him, Lindsay was the perfect picture of a high school graduate who knew what was best for her. She looked so precious, hunched over with spread knees on the bed, earning an honest, profitable living.
“Eyes down, Kayleigh, and concentrate on my dick.”
Lindsay cast her gaze to his pelvis and bobbed faster. She had also learned this week that almost every man who walked into the brothel was in the mood for a nice, long blowjob, and why shouldn’t they be, when there were so many girls like Lindsay at their disposal? I spend at least a quarter of my parties, if not more, with dick in my mouth. She made soft, mewling sounds and breathed through her nose. Her blonde locks bobbed in perfect unison with the motion of her head.
“I’m sorry that I had to step away for a moment,” Pamela said as she reentered the bedroom and closed the door behind her. “So sorry. I’m okay now.”
Darius smiled. “No worries, baby girl. Why don’t you come on over and join us? I’d love to watch you and Kayleigh have another make-out session like before.”
Two minutes ago, Pamela asked Darius if she could excuse herself so she could use the restroom. He obliged, of course, but Pamela didn’t feel the need to relieve herself. She went to the washroom and popped four Naproxen instead. A muscle in her lower back was aching, and she knew that a long and daunting day of work awaited her. With any luck, using the anti-inflammatory medicine preemptively would nip any further discomfort in the bud, and stave it off.
Soon enough, Pamela and Lindsay lost themselves in their spunky kiss, their arms wrapped around each other – touching, caressing, fondling – as their faces twisted left and right in unison. Various pieces of lingerie were spread across the bed, the floor. Darius reclined against the headboard and watched in awe, dick in hand, two drop-dead knockout blondes, one older and the other younger, their bodies grinding in harmony as they swapped their saliva back and forth for his amusement.
Pamela and Lindsay were told to rise to their knees and face each other, rub their breasts together, and continue the kiss. Then Lindsay mewled out, splayed across the comforter, as Pamela bent and tended to her pussy for a long, long time, with more bright sunshine sneaking into the room than before. Pamela kissed, licked, and rubbed all that moisture and, because of her superior bedroom skills, gave Lindsay a swift and blinding orgasm.
Dental dam and all.
Pinned down and controlled, Lindsay could do nothing but take her pleasure a half-hour later in the doggy style position, as her trick had his carnal way. Darius Randall knew how to fuck a woman, which buttons to press. He knew when to thrust fast and relentless, and when to slow down and offer a few gentle strokes with just the head of his shaft before plunging it deep inside again.
Lindsay arched her hips back, welcoming every jolt, soft noises becoming louder and more prevalent as he took her harder, making her pussy smolder from the pure vigor of it all. “Oh, yeah! Oh, yeah, you’re gonna make me come!” Her brow crinkled and she bit her lower lip, her face a mask of arousal, her cheeks a bright pink. She gasped, panted, and bawled at the way this black brute was using her body to make himself feel pleasure. One large hand came around her head to smother her mouth.
Lindsay came quickly, unprepared for such mastery, her resolve all but dissolving around Darius’s powerful cock as she waded through the uncontrollable crescendo of ecstasy. She fell forward and landed with an audible thud on the mattress as he clamped onto her hips with both hands and buried himself to the hilt.
Soon, it was Pamela’s turn.
Darius put one knee on the bed, leaning over her, his face stopping a mere inch from hers. He cupped Pamela’s chin, his thumb rubbing itself over her lower lip. She lunged upward and closed her mouth over his. Darius felt her teeth as she bit down on his tongue, teasing him, tormenting, trapping it within her mouth.
With a growl, Darius enjoyed himself through the deep, electrifying kiss. He then moved and tasted her jaw, her cheek, her neck, licking, nibbling, kissing down to her breasts. When Darius drew a hardened, stiff nipple into his mouth, Pamela’s body surged against his and she whimpered. Lindsay caressed the other breast with her hand, squeezing away, molding it.
“Fuck me, baby,” came Pamela’s urgent plea. “I want it so bad.”
Darius complied in record time, pushing his cock inside and filling her with one frenzied, forceful thrust. He mounted Pamela in the missionary position and saw the temperature rise in her face. Lindsay now gripped Pamela’s hand as Darius filled her again and again. She bent over and kissed her flush on the mouth, muffling the sounds from within as Pamela was red as a turnip, squirming frantically as Darius tried to hold her hips still so he could keep fucking her and be certain he got his money’s worth.
Darius felt Pamela shatter, and her release triggered his as well. It was rare that he could coax an honest-to-goodness orgasm out of Pamela; Darius wanted this moment to last forever, but as always, it was way too brief.
Gasping for air, he collapsed onto his side and pulled her close, bestowing kisses on her face, her neck, her hair. This was party number twenty-one for him with Pamela, and he was totally in love with her. Darius understood their relationship was an arrangement between buyer and seller, and didn’t yearn for more, but was still so far lost in love.
Yet if the opportunity ever arose, he’d do anything to get to know Pamela for real – actually date her – and see where things may lead.
“Thank you, Darius,” she whispered, bringing one of his hands to her mouth so she could kiss it. “That was awesome. I … needed that.”
“My sweet, naughty girl.” Darius struggled for oxygen. “You and Kayleigh just earned yourselves a pair of fifty dollar gift cards.”
After disposing of his condom, Pamela returned to the bed, where she and Lindsay cuddled with Darius and took turns kissing him. Colt knocked on the door at sixty minutes exact, signifying their allotted time was up, but Pamela offered Darius five additional minutes for free. It was typical for her favorite clients. She and Lindsay continued to shower him with kisses until Colt again knocked at five minutes.
In a way, Lindsay felt relieved. I'm glad Darius didn't tell me to lick Pamela's pussy. I want to lick it, but not with a dental dam in the way. It'd be the equivalent of trying to lick pussy through a paper towel. How disgusting!
“I had a great time, ladies, and am glad I got to be part of your first threesome, Miss Kayleigh.” Darius was glowing afterward as he said his goodbyes in the parlor. “I'm goin' to the hotel to wash up and rest, but I'll be back later tonight. I can't leave Flagstone without hooking up with my other favorite gal, Scarlett. I have an appointment with her at eight o'clock.”
Pamela wrinkled her nose. “You should've had a three-girl party with us like you were talking about on the board, Darius! Didn't you read where Scarlett wanted to have a three-girl party with you? Me, you, her, and Kayleigh?”
A foursome would’ve been the bomb. …
“I'd love to, but Scarlett would charge an extra four hundred dollars on top of her standard six hundred, and I don't want to pay that. If I could, though, I would.” Darius ran a hand along his bald head. “The fifteen hundred I spent would've been twenty-five hundred. I need to keep my expenses more under control.”
“It's okay, baby. I understand.” Pamela flashed a bright, beaming smile. Little did Darius know the price would’ve been closer to $3,000. The more girls in a party, the more multipliers there were when determining the price.
“Please come see me again.” Lindsay’s face twisted as a genuine tear tumbled down her cheek and she hugged Darius at the door. She made certain to kiss him, slick her tongue over his nice and slow, and give him something to remember her by. “I had fun and hate to see you go.” She wiped the tear away.
“Oh, I'll be back again. Don't worry.”
“And keep in touch with me through e-mail, okay?” Pamela told me to say that to every client I party with. It promoted the website, and exchanging e-mail helped create an ongoing bond with tricks. “After you see Scarlett tonight, come say goodbye to me one more time unless I'm with another client, okay?”
“Kayleigh,” Colt said after Darius was gone and she and Pamela walked by the bar, “you have another appointment in forty minutes, so I suggest you shower and get ready.”
“What?” Lindsay asked, blinking at the unexpected news. “Another appointment? A party?” Why did it feel like a noose just tightened around her neck? Lindsay was tired but needed the money.
Colt nodded. “Same guy you were with this morning. Ryker from Kansas? He wants you as a schoolgirl with pigtails. Will be booking two hours.”
“Ryker is still here?” That ape? Lindsay placed a hand across her throat. “I thought he said he was driving up north to check out the brothels there too.”
“We want him to stay and spend his money here instead. Work your magic, Kayleigh. You have him hooked. He doesn't have to travel upstate when we have everything he needs here. Work it, girlfriend.”
Pamela brushed hair from Lindsay’s face with the most considerate look in her eyes. “Saturdays can be crazy around here, Lindsay.” She kissed her forehead. “It's our busiest day of the week. You don't have to party with him again if you need a break. It's your choice.”
“Kayleigh,” Colt corrected her.
Pamela shot an unhappy, yet fleeting glance toward her husband, but soon refocused on Lindsay. “Kayleigh.” After what happened between them last night, Pamela only planned on calling her “Kayleigh” if a customer was present from now on. That was because Lindsay confided in her that she hated being called by her working name. “This is still your first week and all. You up for two more hours? Remember, you can decline him. Or ask the guy to come back later tonight.”
She bit her lip, feeling her cheeks get hot. “Yeah, I'm game. I'll charge him eleven-hundred.” That will bring my daily net to twelve hundred and ten, right? “He paid five-fifty for the one hour we had before.” Holy cow, that’s a lot of money for one day of work! I'm nearing seventeen hundred for the week! If I only didn't have to pay the six-sixty-three back to Pamela and Colt. “I don't think I need you there for negotiations, Pamela. He'll pay what I ask.”
“You,” Colt said to Pamela as he placed an arm around her shoulder and kissed her left temple, “have the next two hours off. I want you to take a shower as well and then come to my office.” He nuzzled his lips upon her neck and whispered, “You're so special. I can't believe how special you are.”
The warmth in Colt's voice struck a chord within Lindsay. I can tell that he loves her. He talks to her differently than he does any of the other girls in the house too. Was Lindsay becoming jealous?
His hand traversed Pamela’s spine gently. “You okay? Darius wasn't too demanding, was he? Your back okay?”
“I'm fine,” she insisted.
Colt kissed her cheek. “We're having a late lunch – just you and me.”
Pamela's features lit up with affection. “Vegan Chinese like you promised earlier?”
Colt brushed a strand of hair away and cupped her face. “I'll run over and get takeout from Hong Kong Wok while you're in the shower. And bring you a cup of iced black coffee from Starbucks too. Sound good?”
“With almond milk, please. And yes!”
“And you,” Colt spoke to Lindsay in a firmer, more businesslike tone, “have the following four hours off once you finish your party. You're still new and I want you to get some rest because that'll be four hours of partying for you today. Don't want to overexert you.”
Rest is for the weak! Lindsay wanted to work and maximize her earnings with the short-range goal of purchasing a car to have during her week off. Tomorrow would be her one true day off of the week, and she’d have all the time in the world to rest.
“Your appointment is upcoming. In a perfect world, Ryker is done with you by six or six-thirty. Perhaps we can talk him into sampling another girl later on? If a lineup is called, you're exempt until ten o'clock. If any customers come in and ask for you by name, we'll say you're not available until ten. I want you to take it easy and relax.”
“Yes sir.” Although objecting inside, Lindsay knew it was pointless to try to change Colt's mind. Why dig in her heels for a fight she had no chance of winning? Lindsay figured Colt was still upset because of the abrasive customer from the other night, plus all the drama with Aaliyah. I'm still not sure that Aaliyah and her shitstorm is done yet either. So, Lindsay saw no reason to push her luck and possibly make him angrier.
Besides, Lindsay feared Colt. She was scared to death of him. He'd never hurt her physically, Lindsay trusted, but he had that raw, authoritarian presence and stature, and it intimidated her like nothing ever had before.
The fear I have arouses me too.
I bet Colt is an absolute beast in the sack when he wants to be. Pamela is such a lucky girl to have a man like that whenever she wants. Like most girls her age, Lindsay’s wants, her desires, her basic thoughts, were in a constant state of flux. Things could change from one second to the next. If it were up to me, I'd be sucking that man’s dick nonstop. I want to choke on it!
Indeed, the pendulum was swinging.
The first party with Ryker was different, but fun, and Lindsay enjoyed role-playing as Brooklynn Phillips from Kansas.
The second time around? Not so much.
Ryker agreed to a $1,100 GFE for two hours, and though he wasn't disrespectful or too rough, Lindsay lost interest in revisiting the role again. The realization hit her about fifteen minutes in. What if I'm adding to Ryker's obsession for this gal? Lindsay glanced down and regarded herself in the Catholic schoolgirl outfit. What if he tries to do something to her because of me? He says Brooklynn is happily married and just gave birth in January.
Ryker slowed down and talked amid their second party, as if he was savoring the feeling of Lindsay’s pussy on his cock. “Has anyone ever fucked you like this, Brooklynn? I’m sure you’ve gotten it doggy style a lot, haven’t you? A filthy slut like you?”
“Oh, God, yes … but …”
“But not as much as you’d like, am I right? Chris seems like a straitlaced prude.”
Lindsay buried her face in the mattress. “No sir … no, not near as much.”
“What I really mean, Brooks … does Chris even know what he’s doing when he fucks you? He’s surely not as skilled as I am in bed, right?” Ryker’s hands gripped Lindsay’s waist tighter, and he began to thrust with more gusto. “You’re an insatiable little slut, Brooklynn, and you belong to me now. This part most of all.”
Lindsay felt lightheaded and tried to pace herself as Ryker fucked her pussy hard, riding in and out until he came with a grunt of satisfaction ten minutes later.
Throughout the entire ordeal, Lindsay stayed in character – what Ryker paid her to do – and got him to orgasm at the end of their session too. It was an accomplishment, she thought, because he came twice earlier with her as well, and partied with Kenzie for an hour in between. I'm sure Kenzie emptied his balls too.
When it was over and they said their goodbyes in the lobby, Lindsay felt relieved Ryker was gone. Near the end, things got to be downright creepy. He went way overboard with his ongoing fantasy, and it made Lindsay feel more uncomfortable.
He hugged me so much that I felt smothered, kept calling me Brooklynn, and said he’d leave his wife for me.
Ryker wanted to schedule another appointment with Lindsay at ten o'clock in the morning. What happened to visiting the other brothels? Although she was permitted to accept a booking on her day off if a customer asked, Lindsay declined. She didn't want to see him again. I'd rather pay the thirty bucks for tomorrow's rent. To hell with this degenerate and the obsession he had for his best friend’s wife! I'll decline him in the future if need be too. I cannot contribute to his fantasies in good faith anymore.
Colt can go fuck himself, too, if he gets angry about it. I’m never seeing that man again.
Still, Lindsay was cordial in turning Ryker down, claiming it was her day off and she had an appointment at a beauty salon in Vegas.
I have more aches and pains than ever before, my pussy is in agony, and I have a splitting headache. Maybe Colt knows what he's talking about because, come to think of it, I could use a four-hour break. …
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Topic: A sweet & chirpy gal needs her manly hunk!
Private Message to: SammySlams
A sweet & chirpy gal needs her manly hunk!
Sent: July 21, 2018, 8:26pm PST
Sammy :) –
Thank you for responding to my message from the other night! I’m sorry I frightened you with it. I had a horrible day when I wrote you, but everything is better now. I've struck up a friendship with Pamela and Kenzie this week (Pamela is **yummy**) and made a LOT of money today alone.
I'm settling in here. Jim is the best and treats me so well.
Happiness is a personal choice and changing your perspective in a negative circumstance can be enlightening, no matter how grim it seems. That is why I overcame the bad day I had. I've also learned when I focus on what I don't have, I catch myself, and start focusing on everything I do have instead.
I'm glad you feel drawn to me and showed such concern in your e-mail. You are a thoughtful man and I appreciate your kind words.
I've been sheltered my whole life, but working at Happy Ending Ranch will make me comfortable and feel a lot freer. I'm the third of four girls and my parents have always been conservative. If they found out what I'm doing now, life as I know it would be over. :( I have no idea how I'm going to keep this secret from them as time moves on. One day, they WILL find out.
I know you talked about coming back to Happy Ending Ranch in September to see me and having an overnight. What would you say if I came to Salt Lake City to see you instead? I have my week off from work starting Monday, August the 6th and should have a car by then. You were great to me, Sammy, and we had so much fun. I don't want to wait until September! I'll drive to SLC and rent a hotel room for us with my own money.
No, I won't charge you for it. Please don't think that or get that idea (besides, I don't want to break the law). I genuinely want to see you again and have some fun. I think you'd like that, too, wouldn't you? We won't have any restrictions between us being outside the brothel, remember, and I'd love to give my anal cherry to you. :)
I remember you talking about that the other night and how you wanted to fuck my ass. You even said you'd go home and fantasize about it. :) You know I would have gladly given it up to you if the house allowed me to, right?
Don't tell Colt, Jim, or Pamela about this, okay? I'll be in big trouble and would lose my job if they knew I sent you this e-mail. I guess I'm taking a chance, but I like you, and you're worth the chance. Plus, I trust you! Fortunately, Pamela says no one at the ranch has master access to the e-mail system, so they'll never see this. Only the website company has access, and Pamela said they don't read our e-mails anyway. There's no reason for them to.
Again, I don't want a cent from you. I'm not lying. I want to spend a day or two with you in bed and for you to teach me how to use my body to pleasure others (especially YOU!)
To let you know I'm serious about this, my real name is Lindsay Anastacio, and I grew up in Citronelle, California. Kayleigh is my working name (and I hate it). My family is still in Citronelle today. You can look me up on the Internet and you'll find plenty of pictures. I know sharing real names and personal info with customers is the ultimate taboo, but you're more than a customer to me, Sammy. Yes, I seriously love you like I said, and know I can trust you with this information.
Please write back and tell me we can meet up in SLC when I'm on my break. Please! Let me know when you think you'll be available that week too. I can't wait to fuck you again.
Love, Lindsay (Kayleigh)
* * *
After her fourth shower of the day and asking the house chef, Francisco, to prepare chicken tacos with Tostitos chips on the side, Lindsay was back in one of her favorite spots – the game room downstairs – and busy on the Internet. Hmm, these tacos are delicious. She'd spent an hour reading all the new messages on the board and added what she could to select discussions. Darius left a quick review of the three-way he had with her and Pamela, but promised a longer one once he returned home to Idaho tomorrow. As it was, the topic already had four responses.
Lindsay had six new private e-mails waiting as well and read them all. But the lone person she replied to was her first-ever client, Sammy. Hmmph, it took you long enough to write me back.
Despite all the fireworks with Pamela, Lindsay was still in love with Sammy. Sure, he was pushed to the background when things got intense with Pamela, but Lindsay started thinking about him again this morning. During her first shower, Lindsay leaned against the wall and fingered herself to climax amidst the thick steam to the memories of being in the same bathtub with Sammy.
The latest whimsical fantasy Lindsay had since Sammy wrote her back was getting double-fucked by him and Pamela together. She had an orgasm fantasizing about it after the kind things he said in e-mail to her too. In fact, Lindsay now preferred Sammy over Colt. Perhaps the next time he was in town – September? – she could ask Sammy about purchasing a threesome with her and Pamela.
Yaass! That would blow my mind!
Lindsay didn’t know the specifics about Sammy’s financial situation, but Pamela told her he was a CEO and “filthy rich.” He claimed to have had sex with at least 1,000 prostitutes over the past thirty-nine years too. How much did that cost? If anyone, Lindsay knew Sammy could afford an overnight threesome party like Charlie got with Pamela and Scarlett.
But Lindsay didn't want to wait to see Sammy until September. Yes, it was a major risk on her part to offer to meet a client outside of work. And though she had no intention of charging him for sex, if Colt found out, Lindsay feared she'd be fired on the spot.
She even gave Sammy her real name and hometown.
Was it smart to drive 330 miles to Salt Lake City and another 330 back? Lindsay had a license, yes, but her sole experience driving was puttering around Citronelle in her mom's old station wagon.
Sammy would never tattle on me, and besides, I don't need to tell anyone what I'm doing on my week off anyway. Pamela and Colt had that week off, too, and Lindsay figured they’d go home to Baltimore. Poor Pamela misses her family and I know she'll want to visit them.
I need to get over whatever fear I have of traveling through the wide-open desert and going to a city I've never been to before. Isn't this what I wanted? Lindsay wanted to get the heck out of Citronelle and go on some adventures. She’d get one week off every month and, from the looks of things, would have plenty of money to do so. Salt Lake City may not be the most glamorous place, but Sammy is there, and I want to see him again. I want many things from him, but most of all, I'd like for him to fuck me in the ass. He can even do it bareback!
If any man deserves my anal cherry, it's Sammy.
Lindsay considered driving to Las Vegas and hanging out there during her week off, but the thought was way too intimidating. I can't go to Vegas – alone – as an eighteen-year-old girl. I'll probably get suckered into the wrong crowd and may find myself in trouble. It’s a wonder I didn’t get into trouble the one night I spent there earlier in the week. Lindsay thought it would be best to save a big city trip like that and go with someone like Pamela, or Jim and/or Kenzie. They would keep me safe.
How about Sammy? I'd love to go there with him too.
It wasn't uncommon for a young turnout like Lindsay – with such limited sexual experience – to fall in love with her first client. Sammy was older and knew how to please a woman. He sure ain't some blowhard from Kansas who obsesses over his best friend's wife when he's also married himself. Sammy ignited feelings of desire within Lindsay that she never knew existed.
But these feelings often passed for the typical turnout after a couple of days. Other clients would purchase parties from them – as they had with Lindsay – and thoughts of their first client would simmer down into a warm, treasured memory.
Not for this girl, though.
Lindsay had a terrible time with her second client (Eric) and grew to resent her third earlier today (Ryker). She enjoyed being with Darius, sure, but he didn't compare with Sammy in the slightest. Perhaps that was because Sammy came the closest to fulfilling her ultimate fantasy.
Having a Daddy Dom.
Lindsay envisioned Sammy as a strict (but fair) nurturer who offered warmth, strength, a kind heart, caregiving, guidance, and heavy-handed discipline when needed. Lindsay, on the other hand, was full of laughter, happiness, joy, affection beyond belief, unconditional love, and had a bratty, rebellious side that needed to be put in check.
We are perfect for each other! To her, such constant give-and-take between those qualities in a relationship would be ideal.
Please write me back, Sammy, and tell me you'd like to meet in Salt Lake City too. I'll do anything you ask me to in bed. …
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“So, umm, I still don't know how this works.”
Here we go again. This was a dance Pamela had done countless times over the past twelve years. A dance she could do with her eyes closed – even in her sleep.
Offering herself to a random stranger who paid money to have sex with her.
“It's all right, baby.” Pamela leaned over and, though not in the best of spirits – not after the taxing day she had – she kissed the man's scruffy neck. “Follow my lead, okay?”
You know what? I'm tired, like Colt says. There were far better ways for Pamela to spend her Saturday nights than this, weren’t there? Maybe I should think about stepping away from the business like Colt keeps asking me to. Is he right? Do we really need the extra money at this point?
Goodness gracious, this is the fifth customer I've been with today. Why do I keep doing this to myself? Saturdays are freaking insane around this place.
“Why don't I show you the little lingerie outfit we discussed?” Wearing her white minidress with the strategically placed rip designs scattered throughout, Pamela put a knee between the man's legs and nudged his crotch as he sat on the bed. A nibble here, a kiss there, a slick of the tongue everywhere, Pamela was in complete control and would guide this party from beginning to end. “Isn't that what you want?”
A bead of sweat trickled down her client’s forehead. “Right, right.”
“Watch me put on some sexy little things for you?” Pamela's tone was laced with eroticism as she tucked her hair behind her ear. “Give you a little fashion show? A striptease?” With a small, delicate hand, she reached underneath his bathrobe and found a raging erection.
Her sweetness factor off the charts, Pamela moved her lips close to his mouth and smiled. “A lap dance? Hmm? Sound good, baby? That what you want?” Their breaths mingled.
The customer couldn't help but to reach out and touch her cheek. Pamela's brown eyes shimmered with adoration, and it did nothing but ramp his desire up to a higher level. “Real good.” He was breathing in deep, ragged gasps. “And yes, yes!”
Pamela giggled and flicked her tongue across the man's open, willing mouth. I could do this in my sleep, for sure.
* * *
A forty-something investment banker, Gabriel Tucker walked into Happy Ending Ranch after midnight and struck up a conversation with Colt in the lobby. Gabriel had been married for twenty-two years and lived a mundane, dull existence with his wife and three children back in Arizona. He’d been one hundred percent faithful to Jessica – once his high school sweetheart in what seemed like eons ago to him – since the day they met. Yet, Gabriel was bored with how things had become and admitted to Colt he'd been contemplating the idea of visiting a brothel for the past three or four years.
Tonight was his first time actually being at one.
Not only was it a monumental step for him – something out of his comfort zone – but also a difficult one. “On second thought, I don't know if I should be here or not.”
Like Jim, Colt's customer service skills were exemplary, and he made the man feel at ease. Gabriel was nervous and stricken with guilt because he'd lied to his wife about having to go to Vegas on a business trip.
“We don't judge anyone here, my friend. We don't discriminate or look down on you if you're a married man and your wife is in the dark back home. We're discreet, nonjudgmental, and our sole focus is that you leave here a happy and satisfied customer.”
After some further discussion of what he wanted, Gabriel summarized, “I'd like someone who is a decent conversationalist. Someone who's willing to listen to me vent and talk about the problems I have with my wife. Maybe give some advice? Because down-deep, I'd like for things to be better between Jessica and me. I … I don't know. I've always read that in-house, brothel prostitutes can be as much psychiatrists as they are sexual providers.”
Prostitutes? Colt hoped Gabriel didn’t call a lady that to her face. It's a surefire way to piss 'em off. But otherwise, he was correct. Most of them are good listeners and, though it may not be the truth or how they honestly think, they'll tell you what you want to hear in the end.
“Pamela, Nicolette, or Aaliyah would be your best bet.” Colt would’ve also mentioned Scarlett and Kenzie as viable choices, but they were with other customers at the moment. “All three are mature, wise beyond their years, excellent companions and listeners, and give great advice.” Lindsay was available now, too, but she was way too immature for what this guy wanted. I can't recommend her. “We can review their pictures and profiles on the monitor beside me, or call each of them, one at a time, out to the bar to talk to you. Or do a mini lineup of sorts. Whatever you want.”
“Let me see the pictures first.”
It would've been easy for Colt to single Pamela out and suggest her as the best choice for Gabriel, but selfish and unfair to the other ladies too. If the trick chose Pamela, she and her husband would pocket the entire fee together. $600 for a one-hour party? $700? Maybe more?
If Gabriel selected anyone else, Colt and Pamela (as the house) would only receive half of the payment.
Suggesting Pamela (and Pamela alone) would be unethical and, if word got out, cause a mutiny. Colt would only bring his wife's name up if a customer was looking for something she specialized in, but also do the same for any of the others who were a good fit as well. He prided himself on being unbiased. Colt would never direct clients toward Pamela unless it was justified. His business wouldn't have survived this long, he thought, otherwise.
Gabriel took his time leafing through the digital photographs with the remote control, asking questions about each courtesan. Finally, he decided. “Nicolette looks too much like my wife – granted, a younger, much sexier version of Jessica – and I don't like … exotic women like Aaliyah. So, I'd like to meet Pamela and see if I can hit it off with her.” A lustful grin slid into place. “Besides, I've always wondered what it would be like to have sex with a gorgeous, hot blonde like that.”
Colt felt an angry, protective twinge. I wish Pamela would just fucking retire. These guys look at her and talk about her like she's nothing more than a piece of meat, and I'm getting tired of this shit. She's my wife!
Regardless, he didn’t show those emotions. “Choosing Pamela is a wise move, my friend. A very wise move.” Colt gave him a congratulatory pat on the shoulder. “Stay here; I’ll go back and ask Pamela to come out and meet you.”
* * *
Several moments further into their hour-and-a-half session, Gabriel, desperate for attention and pleasure, tilted his chin up and tongued Pamela's mouth. His anxiety melted against those wet, luscious lips as Pamela's arms circled his neck. “Oh Pamela. Oh my.” Her body, even her mere presence, conjured up notions of a warm fire on the coldest night. “This is so much more exciting than being with my wife! A million times more exciting!”
Pamela didn't say a word. She toyed with Gabriel and teased his neck with a series of butterfly kisses until he was whimpering like a child. His body shifted and arched beneath her expert care. The thirty-year-old slipped her right arm beneath one side of his bathrobe and peeled it from his torso. He's overweight, but I've never cared what my clients look like. That was meaningless to her.
With Pamela straddling his lap and grinding her front against his, Gabriel gripped her ass with both hands and squeezed hard. He kissed her with great hunger and his urges were peaking at an all-time high.
Those kisses were never-ending, her mouth was sumptuously delicious, and Gabriel thought he'd died and gone to Heaven. He loved his wife and would do anything for her, but never wanted this evening with Pamela to end. She was so fine, so breathtaking, and unlike any woman he'd ever experienced. Pamela was accommodating and responded favorably to every word and every little motion he'd given her tonight.
A dream girl, if there ever was one.
Pamela broke the series of kisses and Gabriel’s eyes became transfixed on her breasts as they heaved up and down with every breath. She had transitioned from her minidress to a silky white nightie and a matching G-string, but kept her platform heels on.
“You're so fucking hot.”
Is he talking to my breasts?
“God Almighty, you are fantastic.”
“You want to play with them, baby?” Pamela's right hand was stuffed between their pressed bodies and she was giving him a fast-paced handjob. She smirked at how he trembled under her touch. “You want to help me out of this little lingerie piece and play with my titties for a while? Oh, I'd like that, baby.”
“I want you to leave the nightie on. I like seeing you in it. So sexy. Yeah … so, so sexy.” Fire blazed in Gabriel's eyes as he buried his face between Pamela's breasts. His mind in a hazy, lust-ridden fog, he pulled a bit of the lace to the side and experimented on a nipple, tweaking and rolling it between his teeth.
Pamela tossed her head back and moaned. She soon stepped away before it became too much – those nipples were quite sensitive.
“You want to play with my titties some more?”
“What do you think?” Exasperated, Gabriel tried to return to them.
But Pamela ducked away from his clutches. “Sit back and relax, baby. We have plenty of time. We talked about those few months I spent as a stripper when I was younger, remember? Out at the bar?” She smirked and ratcheted up the charm. “You said you thought it was hot that I was attending Catholic school in the day and dancing on a pole at night.” Pamela hesitated long enough for those words to sink in. I grew up in a Catholic family and went to Catholic school, but don't consider myself Catholic at all. “I'd like to give you that lap dance you were hoping for.” Gabriel was drowning in a tidepool of desire as Pamela ended, “How about we let my breasts touch you instead?”
Spellbound, he nodded and sat straight up on the edge of the bed like Pamela requested. Knowing he preferred her to keep the nightie on (and the G-string, too), she lowered the lace in front, exposing her breasts, and climbed atop the bed next to him. Pamela leaned in and dragged her breasts along the expanse of Gabriel's arm. Unrestrained need cascaded through him as he shivered and goosebumps popped up along his skin.
He closed his eyes and sighed as Pamela continued to tease. Soon, she was back in his lap and squished her breasts to Gabriel's chest for a split-second, then moved up and presented them to his face. Enjoying such soft skin, his gaze was full of wanderlust. He attempted to take a nipple into his mouth, but Pamela was quick to pull back.
Gabriel attempted to grab both breasts, but Pamela put an end to that as well. She pinned each of his wrists at his stomach and shook her head with a sly, wicked grin. Yet, those devastating brown eyes cherished him like nothing else ever had. He drank in the image before him, especially those breasts. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach and he swallowed hard.
“Haven't you ever been to a strip club before, baby? Don't you know the rules? No touching!” Gabriel's eyebrows skyrocketed as Pamela gave him a deep, soulful kiss. “Play along with me, okay?”
“For a bit,” he relented. God, why couldn’t every woman be like this? The world would be a better place.
Pamela again slid her breasts along Gabriel's face. He had a five o'clock shadow and his scruff felt like bristly little pricks upon her immaculate, sun-bronzed skin. She tried to avoid his mouth, but Gabriel was ready this time. He sucked the nipple in and feasted. Ticklish, Pamela giggled, but the sound soon became a content hum of arousal. I like him sucking my titties. He's not all teeth like most guys are.
“You're so sexy.” Gabriel's words were a mumble as his heart hammered in his chest like a mallet hitting a gong. “Dear God, you are everything I've ever wanted in a woman, Pamela.”
* * *
“Well, to be honest, this is my first time doing something like this.”
“Oh, really?” Speaking of the so-called dance, young Lindsay was proving to be a quick learner (and a valuable asset to the house) as she relaxed out front with another potential client.
“I've done lots of research, but I'm still not sure what goes on in a place like this.”
Lindsay nodded. “Well, we can do whatever you want. I'm open-minded; game for anything.” As always, Lindsay was full of sunshine and good vibes as she was looking to seduce yet another trick into her bed.
She'd been with two already today – Ryker and Darius – and partied for four hours. Not to mention, of course, the spectacular overnight she'd spent with Pamela. Though it was well past one o'clock in the morning and her body still ached from the overburden of hot, maniacal fucking, Lindsay was raring to go and wanted one more job before calling it a night.
Money, money, money! Give me money!
“You know, Tony, I'm here for you. So, if there's anything specific, I mean … I have plenty of lingerie and a few fetish outfits if you're into that.”
“Wow, I am; what a hot idea.” An older gentleman from southern Utah, Tony was overcome with excitement as Colt pretended to act busy behind the bar. “Well, there is something a little specific.”
“Secretary? It's … always been a fantasy of mine.” The man went silent for a moment and smiled. “So, I own my company. I buy and sell computer chips.”
“Oh wow,” Lindsay beamed.
He reached across the counter and touched her hand. “I moved into a new office two months ago and have all these women, you know, who work for me now, and they're wearing secretary-like outfits. It's mad temptation but, you know, I can't go there.” Lindsay laughed and propped her chin up with an open hand as Tony added, “They're my employees, after all.”
“Don't want a sexual harassment lawsuit, huh?” Lindsay was still chuckling.
“It's been a fantasy of mine. I don't know what to say about it, but it's my thing right now. These women … they get me all hot and bothered.”
She nodded. “A tight skirt, a button-down shirt?”
“You spelled the whole thing out!”
Lindsay laughed again.
Tony produced a shopping bag from the floor and presented it to her. “I purchased a secretarial outfit to bring to the brothel with me. I see no reason why it wouldn't fit you. So, if you'd be interested in pretending that you're my secretary, I'd like for you to try it on first to be sure, and we can go from there. How does that sound, sweetheart?”
Lindsay's smile was golden. “I’d love to try it on and see if you like me in it.” After that, they could go back to her room and talk about getting down and dirty. I don't need any help negotiating. You're a good-looking, older man, and I bet you'd love me sucking your dick. And you know what? I'd love sucking it, too … for the right fee. “How about I get changed, and you wait for me out here?”
Colt smiled at the man. “I know I'm not Kayleigh, but hey, I'll keep you company until she comes back.”
* * *
“Oooooh. Oh, my. Feels like there's a nice, big surprise for me, huh?” Meanwhile, Pamela's face was awash with delight as she again straddled Gabriel's lap and rubbed her ass across his throbbing dick. Behind her, Gabriel's eyes were glossy as he held onto either side of Pamela's hips and was transported to another dimension full of bright colors, unique sensations, and never-ending passion. His body was alive like never before and ready to burst as Pamela gave him the experience of a lifetime.
“Oh my God.” Gabriel's hands trailed upward and cupped Pamela's breasts as he nestled his face between her shoulder blades and kissed haphazardly. She glanced back and covered his lips in yet another intoxicating exchange. He thrust his tongue inside, exploring every crevice.
“Would you like a blowjob, baby?”
With an obliging smile, Pamela ground her ass across his lap for a few more seconds, stood and turned around, and dropped to her knees. Hot sweat trickled down Gabriel's face, and he gulped his throat as Pamela produced a condom and fit it on the tip of his shaft. She leaned over and closed her lips on it, lunged forward and secured it into place, and went to work.
“I don't think you're ever going to forget me after tonight.” Pamela snickered at her own words as she swept her thick, long braid of blonde curls over her opposite shoulder. She snagged the base of Gabriel's cock with her thumb and two fingers and made blatant, audible noises while slipping its head between her lips. Again, those cinnamon-brown eyes flashed upward and took Gabriel's breath away.
“Oh, wow. Oh my God.”
Pamela swallowed half his girth with ease and continued to maintain eye contact. She bobbed her head up and down, albeit slowly, and Gabriel reached out with both hands and ran them through her hair. Soon, she inhaled the full length of his shaft and gagged on it.
“Oh my God! Oh, fuck. Oh, Pamela … that feels so good.”
“Hmm, you’re so happy. I'm happy you're happy!” Pamela pulled back and stroked his cock next to her face as she projected a loving smile. “You know I'd do anything for you, right?” She extended her tongue and dabbed at the underside of his member. “Whatever you want, baby.” She opened and closed her mouth over him once again.
“Keep doing that.” Still seated on the bed, Gabriel was squirming as he watched Pamela with an aura of sheer ecstasy plastered across his face. She still had her lingerie outfit on but had since lost her platform shoes.
“Oh my. Go no hands, honey. Yeah, like that. Put your hands behind your back so I can just feel your mouth. Your sweet, sweet, little mouth.” Gabriel had a grip on Pamela's hair and forced her to bob faster on his arousal. “Ohhhhh … my God. Oh, fuck. My wife hasn't sucked dick at all in over ten years!”
Knowing she had him close to the brink of orgasm, Pamela intensified her efforts, but still held back at the same time. She preferred the climax to happen during intercourse unless he wanted something different. Pamela's hand returned to Gabriel's shaft and frigged away as her mouth continued to wield its magic. Soon, her head was bouncing about at a frantic rate of speed.
“Oh yeah, wow. Oh, Pamela. You're an angel! Take your hand away again, baby. Yeah, yeah … no hands. Oh my God. Fuck, my balls feel so full. So full, so full! Baby, please, stick your tongue out and lick my balls. Yeah, lick them … just like that. Oh, so fucking good. I … I … Oh my God. Fuck.”
Pamela withdrew her face and giggled. “You’re not as apprehensive about being with me like were you when we first started talking.”
“Oh no! Not at all! Yeah, yeah, I like this.”
“You have a beautiful dick, baby.” Her eyes fluttered shut as she suckled its head. “You're really thick – a lot thicker than what I'm used to seeing. And it tastes so good in my mouth.” Pamela swallowed him whole and used her supercharged vacuum technique at the well of her throat.
A moment later, she again pulled away and asked in a polite, tender voice, “Would you like to have sex with me? Put your dick in me?”
“God, yes! Yes, yes, yes, a million times yes!”
* * *
Three doors down the hall, Scarlett was entertaining a client who was old enough to be her grandfather.
“Oh, shit,” she grunted, bent over the side of the bed as the man stood and thumped her from behind. Her face flush on the mattress and ass perched high in the air, Scarlett glared back at him with one open eye. “Oh! Oh my God. Oh, shit! Fuck, so good.” She still had her white stockings and garter belt on, along with four-inch heels – per his request – but was otherwise nude. “Oh, your dick's so fuckin' hard! Make me your slut!”
Unlike Pamela, everything Scarlett said and did with the typical client was an act. Sure, Pamela acted as well to an extent, but Scarlett took things to a whole new level. She wasn't genuine at all – indifferent toward her customers and whatever problems they faced in life – and looked at them as a payday, and nothing more. Scarlett didn't care what any client said or did in her presence as long as they compensated her for her time.
Truth is, Scarlett could have filed her nails and not made a single, solitary sound as this broken down, sixty-eight-year-old retiree did his best to pump his dick into her. Old man doesn't have a clue what the hell he's doing. Yet, Scarlett had a role to play – a character to act out – and hoped her reactions, believable and well-rehearsed as they were, would lead to either him purchasing more time tonight or coming back in the future for repeat encounters.
Or, at the very least, writing a positive review on the website's message board and convincing other customers to purchase services from her.
“Oh yeah. Oh yeah. In and out, baby. In and out.” Scarlett could win an Academy Award for this performance as she coaxed the man – John was his name – toward a proper finish. “Oh yes, yes, yes. Oh shit! Fuck me harder, baby. Oh, your dick feels so good! Hmm, you're an animal, aren't you?”
John moaned and roared out his approval, but wasn't a talker during sex. So, Scarlett took it upon herself to handle most of the dialogue.
“Oh, yes! Yes! Use my pussy. It's your fucking pussy. Yeah, oh, yes, baby. Feels so good! Harder! Fuck me harder! Ohhhhh! Oh, shit! Oh, fuck. Hmmmmm, you got me dripping, lover. I'm gonna come soon! Are you? Are you? Yeah, you're gonna make me come!”
Outside Scarlett's door, Lindsay – wearing a knee-length black miniskirt, stockings, heels, and a white blouse with a purple blazer over top of it – held hands with her latest client and guided him from the booking office toward the washroom she shared with Pamela.
“Hurry and take your shower, Tony,” Lindsay instructed in a friendly tone. The trucker's shower down the hall was in use, so Lindsay was forced to let the client use this one.
Looking like a secretary, she leaned up and graced his lips with a deep, probing kiss. “I'll be out here when you're done.” I can’t believe this guy agreed to eight hundred dollars for one hour! Lindsay kissed him again. “I’m so looking forward to you playing with my body and making me your slut secretary.”
“So am I, honey. So am I. …”
At the bar, Colt was engaged in conversation with Russell Korby from Minnesota, who'd recently finished an hour-long massage party that included a happy ending (referred to as an FBSM+ in industry speak) courtesy of Kenzie. Russell was more than satisfied and couldn't stop complimenting Kenzie's virtues.
Any minute now, Colt knew, Kenzie would return to the bar after reapplying her makeup and fluffing up her hair, and spend more time socializing with Russell. Colt encouraged all the ladies to embrace conversation before, during, and after parties with every customer.
That – and the lower prices – are what sets us apart from the bigger brothels closer to Vegas. We want our customers to have an authentic, incomparable experience that lasts a lifetime for them.
Russell was a sports fanatic and a self-proclaimed superfan of the Minnesota Twins. Colt recalled Game 7 of the 1991 World Series between the Twins and Atlanta Braves as it was, hands-down, the best baseball game he'd ever witnessed. No, check that; best sporting event, period.
That game will put Jack Morris in the Hall of Fame one day. What a pitching performance. Nothing will ever top it. They spoke about those memories at length. It delighted Russell that Colt was so knowledgeable about the last time his hometown team won a championship.
Colt also had the surveillance piece in ear and was listening to his wife getting boned by a man down the hall. Ninety percent of his focus was on Pamela and what Gabriel was doing to her, but Russell would never guess that. Not in a million years. A multitasker himself when tending bar, Colt spoke baseball and World Series moments with Russell like he was the most important man in the world until Kenzie reappeared and snagged his undivided attention. As usual, Colt then faded into the background.
Indeed, the brothel was thriving with business tonight. It usually did on Saturdays. Ideally, the ladies would get to sleep in extra in the morning.
“Oh, that feels divine,” Gabriel said as he was splayed out across the lounge chair with Pamela, minus her G-string but still wearing her white nightie, straddling his lap and bouncing atop his cock. She did most of the work herself, undulating her hips, as Gabriel reclined back and squeezed her ass and breasts. The reckless pace put a lot of stress on Pamela's lower spine, causing extreme irritation and stiffness, but she bit the bullet and kept going.
Gabriel smothered Pamela with both arms and brought her mouth to his for a scorching kiss. Their lips broke apart, but they maintained eye contact as Pamela continued to skewer her pussy on him. She wasn't the vocal type during intercourse and had no desire to exaggerate her reactions like Scarlett, but kept her mouth open and breathed in short, rapid bursts. Gabriel was nearing the point of no return and latched on to her mouth for another kiss. Her hips slapped his pelvis and lewd, wanton noises filled the bedroom and echoed off its walls.
With several mirrors located all throughout, Pamela watched herself bounce shamelessly up and down on a man she met ninety minutes ago and may never see again after tonight. My back feels like it’s about to break! She knew Colt was listening in, and the thought tugged at her heart.
Why. Can't. I. Stop? Step away? Despite what he claimed, she knew Colt hated it when she was with a customer.
Pamela's body found no pleasure in being with Gabriel anymore, only torture. She closed her eyes, and it took everything she had to suppress a sob. I wish Colt was here because I need one of his hugs so bad right now. A pair of tears streamed from one of her eyes.
Pamela became lost in her own sadness, but snapped back to reality once Gabriel's climax erupted and cum squirted into the condom. Just like that, Pamela dislodged herself and knelt at his side as Gabriel, moaning uncontrollably, soon sank right into the recliner in utter satisfaction. She ripped the condom off and jacked his sticky, gooey cock, drawing one more small, timid ejaculation before deciding he was through.
“Be right back.” Gabriel didn't even notice as Pamela kissed him on the forehead and went to the small kitchenette in her bedroom. She disposed of the condom and wiped herself clean with some paper towels. A thorough handwashing, a splash of water to the face, and another wipe-down later, Pamela gave her hair a quick brushing and returned to her client with a bright, sunny smile, and slid right back into his lap.
Oh, no; I still have twenty minutes left with this guy. …
* * *
“Oh my God, Kayleigh; that feels so good.”
“I could do this all night, you know.”
“I’d definitely have no complaints if you did.”
She laughed. “I know you wouldn’t.”
The lovely wet sounds of a professional blowjob could be heard as Lindsay, crouched on her knees in the adjacent bedroom, tended to her paying customer and offered him the pleasure he was entitled to. Everything was winding down into a kind of wicked rightness that added an exclamation point to all the degradation, as exciting as it had been, Lindsay experienced throughout the day.
Though their coupling began between boss and secretary, that role-play was a distant memory by now. “Yes! Yes! Take me!” Lindsay was eager to comply when Tony grabbed her silky blouse moments ago, popping every button right down the front and sending them scattering across the floor. She couldn’t get her arms out of the sleeves and back around him fast enough.
He ruined the clasps on her bra – not bothering to undo them – but simply yanking the hooks apart. The fragile wires bent. Seams broke. Fabric ripped.
Though the bra was one of her favorites, Lindsay didn’t care, not after Tony snatched it from her torso and violently spun her around. She grabbed at the wall, struggling to brace herself, as he yanked the skirt off her hips and down her thighs, jerking and shoving to get it out of the way. Lindsay put her head down and thrust her ass back on pure instinct, all but sobbing pure need as Tony dropped to bended knee and lashed at not only her pussy, but her tight, puckered rectum as well. The man’s tongue, rough and edgy, plundered her, consumed and conquered, and now it was time for Lindsay to return the favor.
“God, Kayleigh. You look so … so … you look so … unbelievably sexy on your knees like that.”
The knowledge that she was kneeling on the same cushion as when Ryker fucked her face this morning, and then later, while stuffed with Darius’s cock, filled Lindsay’s mind. She felt her pussy clench, and then, to her delight, Tony’s hands descended onto her head, through her hair, as he helplessly trembled and made little thrusts into her mouth. She looked up into his eyes, alert and attentive, the friction of her warm, slick mouth thrilling him.
The need to be gentle came upon Tony, not wanting to test the limits of her gag reflex, but also aware that his true desire was to be rough. He inserted his cock until half of it was sheathed inside of Lindsay’s snug, little mouth, and groaned with mad desire.
The anticipation leading up to this moment was intense, all those weeks of planning and fantasizing, but it was nothing compared to the reality of actually being inside her in this unholy way. After twenty-six years of the same old thing, time after time again with his wife, and never anything new or exciting, Tony had found himself a girl dirty enough to satiate his needs.
He drove further, trying to reach the back of Lindsay’s throat despite himself. She did gag, but Tony refused to let up for several seconds, because his nature as a man shackled by the chains of a mundane marriage, yet finally free – if just temporarily – seemed unable to allow it.
“Yeah, that’s good, baby. So fuckin’ good. Yeah, let me fuck that face. You look so innocent. Holy shit.”
Lindsay found servicing Tony’s dick to be enjoyable, so hard, so big, and thought it held an authority over a nymphomaniac like her. She melted at the thought, envisioning herself levitating above them, not looking down but somehow still a part of the action: on her knees, where a prostitute with ripped nylons and runny mascara like Lindsay belonged; her eager, sucking mouth, bobbing back and forth to satisfy the cock that filled it, hands down at her sides; even Tony, the customer, giving commands on how she should please him, his gaze locked on her.
“Kiss my balls now, Kayleigh.” He withdrew his cock with his left hand, held it up and away, and watched Lindsay lean in with those tender eyes and nuzzle a loaded, aching testicle. Tony panted in rapid, shallow gasps, nearly lost his footing again and, in that moment, would’ve shilled out every penny from his 401k just to have Lindsay ready and available to do that on command whenever he saw fit from now on.
Overcome with stimulation, fascination, and terrible shame, Lindsay thrust a hand downward, between her thighs, so she could rub her aching pussy. Faster and faster, she rubbed, all the way down and back, sneaking a finger between the folds Ryker and Darius had pounded so sternly earlier today. She knew all the while that this guy was next.
“You’re a natural with a dick in your mouth, sweetheart. I can tell you’re enjoying yourself and am happy you’re so eager to please me.”
“Thank you, sir, and yes, yes, oh yes, I’m very eager. I want to please you.” Her head bent and bottom out, Lindsay spoke in a hushed whisper. “I won’t stop sucking until you tell me to either.”
“Oh, Kayleigh, you’re so nice. You’re such a good girl, such a good lover, but I want to fuck you now.” Tony loved the little gasp that escaped her lips, as well as the hint of humiliation across her face, as she moved back and stared up at him expectantly. “Stand up and bend over, put your hands on the end of the bed, and arch your back.”
After Lindsay switched to a fresh condom, Tony looked at her, arranged just as he’d specified, for a long time, her head bowed and ass high. He frigged his dick with his right hand, imagining having Lindsay in his service like this forever. With his left, he reached out and slowly trailed his knuckles over the taut, upturned skin of her backside. “Fuck, Kayleigh. Hold that position. Yeah, perfect. Just like that.” After several seconds, Tony stepped forward and put his cock where it belonged.
Lindsay gave a soft, joyful cry at the feeling of invasion from behind, and then, as it pushed in, Tony heard the lovely whimper that he’d already grown to admire as well. She was so wet that Tony slipped in more easily than he thought possible. Within seconds, he put his hands on her hips and thrust with abandon.
Lindsay stumbled, her thighs rigid, a deafening cry erupting from within, but Tony yanked her back onto him with a swift pull of the hair. He thrust again, the slap of his hips juddering her, back and forth, in and out. Lindsay’s entire being was engulfed; her face burned. Hell, her whole body burned. Her hips bucked and rolled, almost to the point where Tony didn’t have to thrust at all. He could let Lindsay do all the work, impale herself on him over and over until she didn’t have any energy left.
Tears of arousal and disgrace and appreciation and the desperate, throbbing need to satisfy her john – I must satisfy him – consumed Lindsay as tiny orgasmic sparks zinged from her clitoris to her sex to her womb and every deep place as Tony took her, owned her so completely, that every thought, every fiber of her being, was fixated on the unbelievable ecstasy of his grip on her hair, his arm around her waist, and the maddening friction of his cock moving inside her.
I love being a bad girl. I love walking into a room and seeing all the hungry men who can’t take their eyes off me. I love talking with customers at the bar and later feeling their hands once they give me their money because they can’t resist me. I love having a man on top of me, kissed until I’m breathless, and then being fucked into mental oblivion, and mmm … oh, God, don’t stop, Tony, right there … oh, that feels so fucking good. …
<> <> <> <> <>
“We have to do this again. I will be back.”
Sometime later, in the bar, Pamela nodded in agreement as she slid both arms around Gabriel's neck and offered him yet another affectionate embrace. In the background, Colt's eyes narrowed – for a split-second – as Gabriel pulled back and said, “This was the best night of my life. Thank you, Pamela. Thank you so much.”
“No, thank you. It was so awesome meeting you and spending time with you. I had so much fun.“ Their ninety-minute party had since concluded, so it was time to bid each other farewell. Pamela smiled and placed a hand on Gabriel’s chest. “I think you should try those things we talked about with your wife, baby. The suggestions I made could help rekindle the magic you once had with her.”
“Couldn't hurt, right?” Not only was Gabriel's satisfaction evident, but so was his relief. He'd lived out several fantasies tonight with the hottest and most alluring woman he had ever seen. Pamela was worth every single penny of the $1,000 he paid in cash to be with her.
Unable to resist, he gave Pamela another hug. “Trust me, I'll try. Thank you again.” Gabriel's hands began at the middle of her back and his fingertips glided downward and settled at her waistline.
Colt's gut boiled with a rage and jealousy he'd never felt before. One more inch and I'll break those fingers.
Oblivious to Colt's mindset, Pamela’s hands tightened around Gabriel’s waist. “Remember, make an account on the website and keep in touch with me. I check my e-mail five, ten times a day. Let me know when you'd like to see me again, okay? And let me know how things are going with Jessica. I hope everything works out for you and her.”
“I will. I promise. With any luck, I can sneak back here before Christmastime. I have to see you again.” Gabriel motioned toward the exit with his head. “Will you walk me to the door?”
Pamela glanced over at Colt. “Can I?”
Her conflicted husband forced a grin and nodded.
They again hugged at the door as Colt came out from behind the bar and kept a watchful eye on them.
“I'm so glad I met you.” Gabriel kissed Pamela's cheek and took one final whiff of her hair and perfume.
She ain't your wife, asshole! She's mine. Stop fawning over her like she is!
When Gabriel let go, Pamela's smile was brimming with kindness. “Have a great night, baby, and a safe trip home in the morning. Be careful! I'll miss you.”
Once Gabriel stepped outside and Pamela locked the door behind him, she thumped her forehead upon the frame and let out a long, tortured sigh. Physical and mental anguish gripped her body all at once and wouldn't let go. Pamela's shoulders slumped and, suddenly, she found it necessary to lean against the door and use it for support to keep from falling over. Pain shot from her back through all her extremities and bounced about in her toes. It felt like someone was slamming an ice pick into her repeatedly. Even her teeth hurt.
After entertaining five customers over eight hours today, and the marathon she had with Lindsay overnight, Pamela was exhausted. No longer needing a false facade since her trick was gone, she clutched her stomach and vomited in her mouth.
“Hey, hey, hey, I've got you, Lady Pamela. You're safe; the night's over.” Colt's words were warm and protective as he swaddled Pamela from behind, his arms forming a deep, loving cocoon. “There, there … I got you. You're okay. You're with me now. Relax.” She was shivering.
Colt knew what Pamela was going through because it wasn't anything he hadn't seen from her in the past after a hectic day at the so-called office. Yet again, she'd overexerted herself to perform her job to the best of her ability, and please her customers. Pamela was genuine – too genuine – and one of these days, Colt feared she would go too far and permanently injure herself.
No one in the house works any harder.
“Want me to draw you a bubble bath mixed with your CBD Epsom salt?” His hands ran up and down her spine, slow and tender. “Is it your back? Your back hurt? Do you want a Zevia from the cooler?” The forty-four-year-old slipped a blanket around her shoulders. “How about I make you a Nespresso?”
Pamela's insides swirled at Colt's gentle nature – he was so considerate in situations like this – but she shook her head, turned around, and offered him a weak, listless sob. “I love you, wookie bear, but no, th-thank you. I … I'm going to … bed. My back hurts, and I'm tired. So tired. …”
She moved past him on spaghetti legs and began a slow, agonizing walk toward her bedroom.
How about a massage, then? Let me help take …
Full of concern, Colt's thoughts trailed off, and he went silent as he turned and watched her sludge away. No, no, no! He felt as if their shared livelihood and its many cruelties just slapped him upside the face.
Colt desperately wanted to swoop Pamela into his arms and carry her off to bed himself. Cuddle and love on her with a shoulder, neck, and back massage until she fell into a deep, peaceful slumber. Take away all her discomfort and make it his own.
But I can't. Kayleigh is still with her trick. Colt couldn’t leave the bar unattended until Tony was gone either. I have to listen in to make sure Kayleigh is safe and treated correctly. Colt glanced at his cell phone. Fuck! It's two-forty-five, and she still has twenty-five minutes left with him! They're going to want to talk afterward and it may be an hour or longer before Kayleigh can get him to leave. The house was scheduled to close in fifteen minutes!
“Pamela, baby, I love you,” he called out as she vanished behind the curtain. “Feel better, okay? I'll be in to check on you as soon as I can.”
All he heard was a little whimper in response.
Something snapped within his psyche.
Colt filled with a violent, uncharacteristic madness that consumed him, and his fists clenched tight. I hate this fucking place!
An instant later, his ironclad, professional will all but splintered into a million pieces, Colt went rushing after Pamela, desperate to do anything to ease her pain. …
(End of Chapter Nine - to be continued)
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