The Girlfriend Experience (Chapter Eleven)


 

Chapter Eleven

 

“Hold still, Lindsay. I'm going to fuck you now.” He got into position and lined his erection up with her pussy. Bent over the bed in an obscene, unladylike position, Lindsay's legs were widespread as she glanced back over her shoulder with undeniable need in her eyes.

“Yes, please! Yes! Please fuck me, Sammy.” Lindsay bit her lower lip as another crimson blush overtook her cheeks. “Please! Oh God. Don't make me beg for it.”

“You're wet already, aren't you?” Sammy’s trademarked hard gaze, his ruthless desire, didn’t waver. “Keep that ass spread and take your fucking like a good girl, and I may let you suck my dick and swallow my cum afterward.”

He latched on to Lindsay's hips, and with one swift, powerful thrust, she wailed out at the top of her lungs as her pussy accepted his manhood. “So nice and tight, darlin'.” Lindsay spread her thighs further apart and buried her face in the mattress. “Don't you dare let go of those ass-cheeks. Keep them spread so I can admire your anus.” Sammy's words were laced with warning as he pulled back and plowed into her again. “I'll be fucking it tonight, too, you know.”

“I won't, Sammy! I won't let go, I swear! Please take me. Please! Oh my God. Make me yours!”

The bedframe made loud creaking noises as masculine grunts and feminine sobs created a decadent symphony that serenaded the room. Lindsay Anastacio wasn't one to take a dicking lying down; no, she matched Sammy with equal effort and intensity, and used every last ounce of strength in her petite, ninety-eight-pound frame to snatch back as much as he took from her.

Holding Lindsay around her waist delighted Sammy as his pelvis slammed into her upturned backside, his heavy balls thwacking away. “Oh, good, baby. That’s good. Oh, wow. Your pussy feels so good.” Sammy fucked with a confident rhythm that was brazen, almost arrogant, and it spoke volumes to all the times he'd sampled gorgeous, young working girls like her over the past four decades.

Yet in all that time, I’ve never experienced a cunt this tight, this spectacular. To Sammy, Lindsay could be the runaway winner for Miss Teen USA. Or Miss America, Miss Universe, even. Perfect body, beautiful face, all kinds of sensuality. And it helped that she looked absolutely delicious with his dick stuffed deep inside her.

Lindsay responded to Sammy's aggressive treatment with rising sobs of pleasure as he plowed a path all the way to her cervix again and again. Sammy aimed to take, conquer, and claim. Every inch of Lindsay's pussy, her body, her soul itself, would belong to him. Her thoughts splintered into a multiverse of madness as he held her firmly in place, one hand on the back of her neck, the other steadying her hips for his savage insertions.

“You love my dick, don't you? Don't you? Say it, slut. Say you love my dick!”

“I love your dick! More, Sammy! More!” Lindsay was begging – pleading for it – whining, squirming, churning, as she lay prone and defenseless beneath him. “Oh God … give me more!” Lindsay's neck strained and she arched her back, and her torso rose off the bed. Disheveled hair hung around her face. Still, that ass never left the cradle of Sammy's pelvis as his hips pumped away like a supercharged locomotive engine. “Never stop fucking me, please! It feels so good! I’ll always be your slut!”

Sammy gripped Lindsay's arms and pulled back until her head was touching his shoulder. “What do you want, baby girl?” His hot breath tickled the nape of her neck and she shivered. “Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah … right there.” He followed with a flick of the tongue and Lindsay's body literally melted into him. “Tell Daddy what you want.”

“You!” She could do nothing but whimper with every breath, the sensations in her pussy overwhelming. Sammy was so hard, so forceful, so brutal and demanding; she’d relinquished everything to this man and given him total control. “You, Daddy! I want you!”

To her credit, Lindsay didn't let go of her ass. She dug her fingernails into her flesh to keep from disobeying orders and risk going over his knee for a punishment. The sight of Lindsay's crinkly little anus, exposed and inviting, made Sammy's mouth water and his heart pound wildly.

“How does that make your sweet, little cunt feel, Lindsay?” His tone turned predatory. “Slutsay? To be fucked by your Master – your owner – the way a needy concubine's cunt should be fucked?”

“Oh Daddy … Master … Oh my God.” She choked back cries as he somehow increased his tempo, plowing deeper, further, giving her a half-second or so between thrusts in which to brace herself for the next. Her breaths came harshly through her nose. “I like that. Thank you, thank you.” Her cries became louder, and her head thrashed from side-to-side. “May I come?”

“No, Lindsay. No, you may not.” Sammy gave another stark reminder of the authority he possessed as he offered a hard, open-handed spank across her right ass-cheek. “Not until I say so.”

Lindsay screeched and lurched back at him with her hips in a maddening frenzy. Sammy's own breathing became labored with the feeling of his cock looting Lindsay's treasures time and time again. Yet she wasn't about to voice her displeasure at being denied orgasm. No, not with a man like Sammy; a true man who knew his rights when it came to a nymphomaniac like her.

“Do you want to come, sweetheart?”

“Yes, please!”

“Too bad. Not yet.”

“Please, Daddy!” She raised her face and glanced back at him, her eyes wide and wild. “Please, let me come!”

Sammy gave her backside another heavy-handed swat as he continued to thrust. “What happens if you come without my permission?”

“I'll get five with the belt. And no more orgasms the rest of the week.” Saying those words nearly caused Lindsay to burst into flames right on the spot. She loved the sensory experience of BDSM, and nothing could bring her closer to another human being than a true power play.

“Oh my God!” Her howls were piercing. “Yes! Oh my God … you fucking fill me so much. I need to come!” She writhed beneath him, her pussy begging for the words that would send her over the edge. “Oh my God … you're so fucking deep. So fucking deep inside my whore pussy! Oh, yes! Let me come!”

“One more word, bitch, and you’ll get twenty with the belt.”

Lindsay bit her lips hard and emitted a little sob.

“You’ll come when I say you can.”

Sammy towered over Lindsay as he fucked her from behind for two more minutes. His hips thrusted furiously and his dick drove to the hilt. He kept his hands around Lindsay’s waist and held her still, like a submissive, an object, so he could use her exactly as he pleased.

The walls of her pussy clenched his cock like a slippery little fist. Sammy’s own climax hit him like a tidal wave as he deposited his load in Lindsay, and he didn't care about any long-term ramifications that may occur. He was too blinded with passion. The fifty-eight-year-old held her ass with a vise-tight grip as he thrusted once, twice, a third time, before stilling and jerking the final remnants of his release into Lindsay's delicate, fertile womb.

All the while, Sammy played with Lindsay's clitoris and when he gave her the permission she so desperately needed, an orgasm tore through her so fiercely it seemed to shake the foundation of the Earth itself. Or a tornado that started in him and ripped right through her with no pity, no remorse, leaving a devastating wake of sexual destruction in its path.

Sammy had taken Lindsay beyond screams, well beyond gasps, the ability to think, and she was now a hot mess that lay quivering in her own pool of debauchery and wicked satisfaction.

It took a minute or two, but once she settled down, Lindsay bowed her head and whimpers of pure, unbridled gratitude emerged from her lips. “Thank you, Master, for training me to be a good girl. Thank you.” She could feel Sammy’s heart beating against her back. “Oh, Master, I love you so much.”

“We’re not done, darlin’. I’m going to fuck you all night … and your ass is next.”

“Mike!” called a female’s voice. “Michael Steele, it's five-thirty! Get your tired old self out of bed! You have to be at work by seven o'clock.”

Sammy's eyes shot open, and he was cruelly ripped from the most vivid, amazing dream he'd ever experienced. He saw his familiar dresser-drawer and old-time stereo system sideways in his blurry vision and realized the unfortunate truth: I'm in my bedroom, not with Lindsay.

Fuck!

His body felt forever sunken into the mattress after eight hours of sleep and he was too relaxed to consider leaving such a prime, luxurious piece of real estate.

Sammy shook his head and rubbed his groggy eyes. His wife of thirty-nine years was standing in the doorway with both hands on her hips, her eyes fixated on him. Sammy was acutely aware of his raging erection. Oh, wow; I had a dream. He didn’t remember his dick being this hard in ages. But what a dream it was!

Not wanting to explain himself, Sammy piled on an extra bedsheet and didn’t dare turn over from his side. “Uhh … mornin', Barbara.”

She made a face. “You have to be at work in ninety minutes. If you want time to enjoy your breakfast, I suggest you drag yourself out of bed.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay.” His voice scratchy, Sammy put his cheek back on the pillow and avoided eye contact. I don't want her to become suspicious and find me with this raging boner. “I'll be downstairs in a few.”

“You better not doze off again.”

Sammy gave a silent prayer that he hadn't been moaning or calling out Lindsay's name in his sleep. If I did, Barbara would've said something by now. “I won't. I promise.” He forced himself to keep his eyes open. She'll nag even more if I nod off again and I won’t hear the end of it for days. “Thanks for waking me, darlin'. Appreciate it.”

“I'll have your sausage, eggs, and biscuits ready and on the breakfast table in ten minutes. Come on, wake up. Make yourself decent.”

When he heard his wife descending the staircase seconds later, Michael Steele had no choice but to pull himself out of bed. He snatched his cell phone from the hutch, typed in his passcode, and barricaded himself in the adjacent washroom.

Michael, Mike, or Sammy, as he was known throughout the LPIN community – his monger name to safeguard both his professional and personal identities – had three new e-mails waiting, but only one mattered and was worth his attention.

 

From: Anastacio, Lindsay

To: Sodomy, Sammy

Sent: July 23, 2018, 3:54am MST

Subject: 15 days and counting down!

 

Sammy –

It's the middle of the night and I'm in bed, and though I just had back-to-back clients who booked appointments with me because of your praise on the website, all I can do is think about you. I YEARN for you, hunny. You have no idea how much.

I'm playing with myself and my pussy is soaked at the thought of what you're going to do to me once we're together again in 15 days. I can’t wait to have your dick in my mouth and for you to show me how to be a proper anal slut. I want to be your pleasure slave and fulfill every filthy desire you've ever had!

I love you, Sammy!!! I do! I really do!

I cannot think straight or sit still throughout the day anymore with the thought of you fucking me always on my mind. You're driving me crazy, and I promise you the most passionate day of your life when we meet in SLC 15 short days from now.

Please, please, please, jerk your cock off sometime today and imagine it's my hand doing it to you instead. I'm going to fuck myself with my dildo now and pretend it's your big dick.

-Slurps and swallows, Lindsay

 

* * *

 

“Holy shit!” Within the privacy of his home in Briar Bluff, Utah – an upscale suburb of Salt Lake City – Sammy's mouth was agape as he re-read at the e-mail in front of him. This chick is incredible! Why couldn’t every brothel hoe be so willing to think outside the box like this? I’d love to hook up with Pamela McCarron in a hotel, too, and give her the type of no-holds-barred dicking she deserves. Just fuck the ever-loving hell out of her.

The constant back-and-forth of messages between Lindsay and Sammy over the past few days kept getting steamier and steamier. Sammy had met some real keepers throughout the years, for sure, but never one so authentic about sex like this. Lindsay is my ultimate fantasy come to life! Not only was she adamant about giving Sammy her anal cherry in two weeks, but Lindsay wanted him to take complete control and use her like a rag doll, a fuck-toy. She pleaded with him to spank her – even break her – and not have any hesitation while doing so. Says she wants to know what it’s like to be with a strong, dominant alpha male who doesn’t hold back.

My, oh my. How repressed did this girl have to be while growing up in such a secluded town? She’s always been a kinky little slut, I think. Was Citronelle even on the map? Perhaps Lindsay needed the right environment – the right people – to help bring this side of her to the surface. She’s only been away from home for a week and has made more money, I bet, than both her parents combined in that same amount of time.

He cackled out loud. That’s fucking fantastic!

Oh, Sammy wanted to be inside Lindsay. He hadn’t seen her in six long, excruciating days and, at this point, it didn’t matter the position or the orifice. I don’t know if I can wait fifteen days. There were three things that he loved most about Lindsay. One was that charming, little mouth that could make a lesser man orgasm in an instant, another was her tight pussy that was willing to take on anything, and the third was her virgin anus that would be trained for his pleasure in due time. I wanna fuck those small-ass titties too. He craved this girl, needed her so much, as anticipation coursed through his blood like molten lava. Hell, I’d fuck her armpits.

Amazingly, Lindsay was the one who initiated this. She offered to meet him in Salt Lake City, not the other way around. And most surprising of all, she was willing to do it for free. She’s too green to understand how whoring works. Lindsay told Sammy multiple times that she didn't want any money to spend a day or two with him. “I love you, baby. You popped my brothel cherry, and I want to be with you for real. I'll never have a client as special as you ever again.”

Sammy had never met a prostitute off the clock, or away from her brothel, and not offered generous compensation for her services. These are business transactions and, in my mind, they’re worth every penny. He had a lucrative, high-paying job – I’m the CEO of Gradiph Pharmaceuticals – and had tens of millions of dollars tied up in investments and across several bank accounts. Our house, our yacht, the cars, everything is paid off. Girls like Lindsay were a luxury he could afford to pamper and spoil rotten without fear of financial burden.

Whores need to be paid. I don’t mind; they’re a gift to the world. Money fuels them. In his experiences, the more money he offered, the harder these ladies worked to please him.

If Sammy had his way, he was going to shower young Lindsay with countless gifts and a steady stream of income. He loved seeing prostitutes in his favorite penthouse hotel suite or his own home – but only when Barbara is away visiting her sister – and giving them what they wanted while taking what he wanted too. It’s a transaction that’s mutually beneficial for both sides.

Lindsay was special – very special – and Sammy had lofty, grand plans for her immediate future. Our future. He wanted much more than a meetup at the hotel for a night, or perhaps several nights, of sex. That wouldn’t be enough. Instead, it would be step one of the process. A delicate process, no doubt, one that would require additional time to gain the trust needed from Lindsay for him to offer such a risky, unlawful proposition.

This girl is so young, so fresh and innocent, and full of boundless energy when she fucks. Sammy knew that working in a brothel would change her, and it wouldn’t be for the better. Elisabeth and Nicolette were prime examples of that. I remember how they were when they first started and compare their younger selves to now. It's sad.

Nicolette used to be similar to Lindsay. Not on Lindsay's level, no, but close enough. Nicolette puts on an act nowadays, but I can tell she's disinterested during parties. Sammy knew Nicolette had a young son back in Vegas who wasn't in the best of health and worried about him constantly. She's preoccupied, and for good reason.

Regardless, disinterest was common amongst the older ladies. I can see right through their bad acting. Sammy didn’t want the same thing to happen to Lindsay down the road. I don't want her to lose that zest and enthusiasm, and the eagerness to please at all costs.

It's a rare trait in any woman – whore or not – and it needs to be nourished, not deadened.

Indeed, Sammy had grand plans for the eighteen-year-old.

I want this chick out of the brothels and living in a downtown Salt Lake City high-rise where I can show up whenever I want and fuck her to my heart’s content. Not since Alana, his all-time favorite in the business, had Sammy felt the urge to employ a full-time “sugar baby.” I miss Alana so much, but her pain is gone, and she’s in a better place now … God rest her soul.

He wanted to finance Lindsay’s way through college, pay her rent and living expenses, buy her outrageous gifts such as a convertible and dream vacations, and provide her with more money than she knew how to spend. When the time is right, I’ll offer Lindsay five hundred thousand dollars for the first year and promise to increase it every year thereafter.

The tradeoff? She’ll take my dick whenever I tell her to. Day or night, night or day, holidays, it wouldn’t matter. I’ll add Lindsay to my Centurion credit card account and tell her she can buy whatever she wants with it.

Not even Alana had this type of impact on Sammy, and he’d been with well over a thousand working girls. His attraction to Lindsay was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. For whatever reason, she’s genuinely interested in me too. He wasn’t looking to save her – I sure as hell ain’t no white knight – but by Christmastime, Sammy planned on legitimately owning this girl. I’ve always dreamed of having a sexy little plaything on the side that I could fuck on a moment’s notice.

Brothels were fun. So was hooking up with and banging a fine piece of ass like Amy Zeitler on his own terms, which Sammy would do later today instead of going to work. But I’m older now and I’d like something consistent, something set in stone. Not a commitment, but something that was always there whenever he wanted it.

Memories from last Christmas brought a wicked smile to Sammy’s face. During a trip to Happy Ending Ranch, he offered Amy (Scarlett) a gift card for $100 if she’d suck and finish his dick off without a condom. Sure, they had to whisper so no one would hear them via the microphones, but Scarlett was eager to agree. That bitch swallowed me whole and put on a show, gargling my cum like it was Scope or Listerine before guzzling it down.

Scarlett was a special girl in Sammy’s eyes too.

He was glad that Colt rarely checked the video feeds because he’d made similar offers to Sahara, Riley, and Mariko. Everything was hush-hush – quiet and discreet. And never once did any of them turn him down. I work hard each day; I deserve an honest cocksucking and to come down a girl’s throat when I feel like it.

Would Lindsay quit Happy Ending Ranch and move to Utah if Sammy offered her a starting rate of $500,000 per year while also covering all expenses? I could take a few hours off from work on certain days and go over to Lindsay’s apartment and fuck her. Two days a week? Why not three? Or perhaps spend an entire weekend there? Lindsay would have to be on birth control, pills or injections, an IUD … something. At that price, I’ll demand to fuck her raw, bareback, the way a man is entitled to.

Hell, I could offer her more money and knock her up too. That way, long after Sammy was dead and buried, Lindsay would never forget him. She’d always have a little something to remember me by, huh?

If she agreed to his proposition, Lindsay could earn a quality education and collect a bankroll of money. The dream life for almost any whore. Lindsay could take trips around the world like she told him she wanted to. I’d allow her to have as many friends as she wants, the life she wants. Sammy wouldn’t have any issue with her dating and fucking others either.

It’d be a business transaction, nothing more.

But when Daddy came calling, he’d expect Lindsay to drop everything and do what she was being compensated so nicely for. I take care of her and she takes care of me. I’ll break her, train her, and use her whatever way I see fit.

And oh man, that ass. That ass would belong to Sammy, and Sammy alone. No one else would be allowed near it. It’d be mine, only mine, to fuck whenever I want.

Make no mistake about it, though – Sammy cared about his wife and had no intention of leaving her.

At least not yet.

He’d been with Barbara since 1977. By comparison, Lindsay wasn’t born until 1999. Sex with Barbara definitely isn’t what it used to be. She had trouble dealing with the typical discomforts of getting older and suffered from a loss of interest and sexual desire. Barbara was a helluva fuck back in the day, but not anymore. Still, Sammy felt forever bound to her. What would our kids think if I left her? The grandkids?

On the plus side, Barbara had always known of Sammy’s brothel fetish and the fact he could never get enough of sweet, young pussy. She’s never cared for that side of me but has looked the other way, mostly, for the thirty-nine years I’ve been feeding this addiction.

Sammy recalled the one and only time he convinced Barbara to visit Happy Ending Ranch with him and party with Alana. 1984; it was our lone threesome. Barbara was so timid, so apprehensive, but she warmed up quick once Alana licked her pussy and Sammy fucked her mouth at the same time. Ahh, the good ol’ days.

If his plans for Lindsay went through, he could never tell his wife that he had a full-time sugar baby on the side right here in Salt Lake City. It would upset her, and rightfully so. Barbara doesn’t know I meet several girls illegally.

Nor did she need to.

Sammy loved Alana and had a unique relationship with her until she passed away a few years back. We had a lot of fun times together and, though she was married, too, I always thought of her like another wife. Yet Lindsay had already eclipsed Alana as his all-time favorite.

Just. Like. That.

Fuck it! I’ll offer Lindsay a million dollars a year to start! No way she’d turn that down, right?

“Mike, did you fall asleep again? For crying out loud, your breakfast is ready! Come downstairs before it gets too cold!”

Still in the washroom, Sammy clenched his fists and growled like a wild bear. I fucking hate the way Barbara’s voice carries and screeches when she calls out to me from elsewhere in the house. Not only that, but he despised life’s normalcies too. All I want any more is to fuck whores like Lindsay – day and night – and not worry about relationships or deal with any of the petty bullshit drama. Barbara tore into him Tuesday night when he’d admitted to visiting Happy Ending Ranch and spending $1,800 without asking for her consent first. Like I fucking need it; I’m the one who makes all the money!

And this tendency of hers to go all nuclear because he was two minutes late to the dining room table had to stop. It really does. Shit got old thirty years ago.

“Coming, Barbara!” Goddammit. …

 

<> <> <> <> <>

 

Colt exhaled sharply as he leaned against a metal banister in the baggage claim area of McCarran International Airport in Las Vegas, Nevada. He'd been busy admiring Pamela's profile page on Happy Ending Ranch’s website for the past few minutes – that pic of her in the red dress is stunning – while waiting for Elisabeth (real name: Samantha Walcott) to appear and meet him. She should be along any minute now. Her flight from Denver having landed a half-hour ago, twenty-nine-year-old Elisabeth had been working at the brothel since 2016 and was set to return for a three-week tour after a month off.

Colt arrived at the airport at five-thirty this morning – three-and-a-half hours ago – and was operating on minimal sleep. He drove Scarlett the 175 miles it took to get here from Flagstone in the middle of the night and dropped her off for what he believed was a six-thirty nonstop flight to Cincinnati, Ohio (though Scarlett didn't take it). The timing was perfect because Elisabeth's flight landed two hours later. Colt would drive her to the brothel so she wouldn't have to pay for any rideshare transportation herself.

And he could finally catch some much-needed sleep.

I hope Scarlett enjoys her week off. The thought danced through and slipped from Colt's mind as he continued to admire the image on his smartphone. Pamela is so gorgeous, but I’m worried about her. She was the one who convinced him to step away from the house and go to the airport. Told me it would take my mind off her back and she’d do nothing but sleep while I’m gone anyway.

How many times had random customers seen this same picture of Pamela and went to Happy Ending Ranch and booked a party with her because of it?

Colt's heart rumbled. Too many times. His head also twitching, he sniffed his nose and stared off into the distance. The eighth largest airport in the United States in terms of passenger volume, McCarran International was buzzing with activity. It averaged 490 flights per day to 150 worldwide cities and 125,000 travelers. Waves of tourists came and went in every direction as Colt focused on a lone man and woman, likely a married couple, who were retrieving their suitcases from the baggage carousel.

I wonder if that dude subjects himself to listening to his wife getting fucked by strangers like I do? Colt chuckled and hissed at the same time. No, of course not. He’d wager they had a joyful, little existence back in Nebraska or Georgia, or wherever they were from. Look how happy and … monogamous … they seem. Colt would bet that woman wouldn’t touch another guy for the rest of her life too. He has nothing to worry about.

But hey, perhaps Colt could make the same claim for Pamela from now on as well. Wasn’t that a good thing? What he wanted? I’m at the point in my life where I want Pamela for myself, yes, but not this way. Despite all the apparent jealousy and insecurity that had been bubbling to the surface this past week, Colt didn’t want Pamela to be forced out of the business because of a devastating spinal injury. She loves taking care of her clients and I’d never want that to be ripped away from her like this.

I want us to have a normal life, for us to settle down once and for all and have kids, but if I had my way, Pamela would have another five or six parties today with all her favorite mongers. Hell, even Charlie, and for every party to be a threesome with Kayleigh included too.

She enjoys busy days like Saturday. It was obvious she enjoyed being with Lindsay too. Kayleigh is cute, but that little dodo bird does nothing for me. I don’t know what Pamela sees in her.

Instead, Colt’s wish was for Pamela to be at that same point as he was, where she wanted a one-on-one relationship with him too. I’ve always wanted her to walk away from the industry without regret and on her own terms. Colt loved Pamela more than anything, but knew what he signed up for when marrying a prostitute. I don’t know; maybe I’m waiting for the day when she wants to devote herself to me the same way I want to devote myself to her.

No mongers like Charlie or Gabriel … and no Kayleigh. This life … isn’t for me anymore.

Colt knew Pamela loved him too. I don’t doubt that for a second. But he also knew, as a professional companion for hire, she was wired differently than the typical woman. It’ll take some time, but I trust she’ll come around. Pamela kept saying she’d step away from the business in three years, right? Stepping away came quicker than expected, unfortunately, but maybe she’ll have everything about the business completely out of her system in three years. …

Oh, look.

When the pretty young wife at the baggage carousel rotated and Colt caught a glimpse of her from a different angle, he realized something significant.

She’s pregnant.

Five months along? Six months? Congrats? Dude she is with … he's so lucky. I wonder if he realizes how lucky he is. Look how radiant the wife is. She's … glowing. Colt eyed the pronounced swell of her belly. God, that’s beautiful. Just beautiful.

Pamela would be an excellent mother herself.

At this rate, should they ever have children, Colt figured he’d be a senior citizen by the time the eldest graduated from high school. Is that fair to do to any child? To be an older parent like that? He sure as hell wasn’t getting any younger. I’d like, once Pamela gets past this injury, for us to work on starting a family. It’s time. If nothing else, Colt believed parenthood may help settle Pamela down, and further distance her from the draw of brothel life.

Was he really jealous of Lindsay because Pamela had taken such a vested interest in her? Or was it irritation? I honestly don’t know myself. It wasn't until the past couple of days that Colt started having negative thoughts about Pamela being with her clients too. Right when Kayleigh showed up. The issues began with Charlie and escalated when Colt saw Gabriel touching Pamela in the lounge on Saturday night after their party.

I almost lost it.

Just business, Colt would always tell himself, and not think much else about it. Why should he? These men were mongers, nothing more, and Pamela's heart belonged to him. Not them. He never doubted that. Still didn't doubt it.

But …

Why do suddenly I feel this way? Why all this negativity? He wanted to snap Gabriel’s neck the other night when he saw him hugging and kissing on Pamela at the bar. I've never had that type of reaction toward a client. As the owner, Colt wasn’t supposed to think that way about a customer. Their patronage is our continued livelihood.

So, what was his fucking problem?

It’s Kayleigh, Goddammit. His face contorted. Yeah, I suppose I am jealous. The only other person Colt ever saw Pamela swoon and fawn over like this was, well, himself. Back when we were dating.

While Colt didn’t believe Lindsay posed any real threat to his marriage, it irked the hell out of him when Pamela had that all-nighter Friday with her, the lesbian fuck-fest. Set aside the fact her spine was already injured; Pamela should’ve been having sex with me instead. Colt wondered why she’d been so eager to hop into bed with Lindsay when she hadn’t even hinted at wanting to have sex with him since their return from Bora Bora.

If I feel that little tart tries invading on my turf again, tries to drive any sort of wedge between Pamela and me, or our marriage, I’ll fire her. Colt didn’t care about any backlash he’d receive from Pamela either. She’ll get over it. Lindsay could act all sweet and innocent, all naïve and pure, but Colt believed he had her figured out. She’s a manipulative, greedy cunt who’s only out for herself.

One more slip-up. That’s all it would take.

I’ll fire her fucking ass in a heartbeat.

Colt found his resolve, glanced up, and scanned the hundreds of busy travelers for any sign of Elisabeth. Nothing yet. He again focused on his smartphone and tapped over to the brothel's public message board.

 

Topic: Pamela & Kayleigh 7/21

From: HeavyD9116

Gender: M

#Posts: 179

Pamela & Kayleigh 7/21

Posted: July 22, 2018, 4:06pm PST

Mere words could never express what a blast I had spending time with Pamela and Kayleigh yesterday! They made for an unforgettable threesome that blew away my loftiest expectations! Pamela is one of the sweetest, most sincere ladies you could ever meet and Kayleigh, for someone who's new to the business (it being her first week), was so fun and easy to talk to. The sex was great, including the warmup and cooldown, and Pamela and Kayleigh were super into each other! I highly recommend this pairing to anyone who is looking for a two-girl party.

>Darius

 

From: SammySlams

Gender: M

#Posts: 2362

Pamela & Kayleigh 7/21

Reply #1 on July 22, 2018, 4:26pm PST

Welcome to the Kayleigh Fan Club, Darius! I had the pleasure of being Kayleigh's first-ever client last Tuesday and it was an experience I'll never forget either! She is only eighteen, such a little doll, so hot, so ripe, yet also turbocharged with desire and an eagerness to please that I've never seen in a working girl in my four decades of enjoying this hobby.

Next time I'm in Flagstone, rest assured a double helping of Kayleigh and Pamela will be on my buffet plate!

-Sammy

 

You're wonderful, Sammy, and you've supported the brothel like no customer ever has. I appreciate it. But your days of partying with Pamela are over. She’s done.

Colt sighed and shook his head. He knew Pamela would never say a word to Sammy about this because he was a VIP to them, but he was way too rough, even for her tastes, and she often complained about him after the fact. I had to take Pamela to the emergency room two years ago, too, and give her the rest of the week off because you fucked up her back something fierce during a party.

 

From: Colt_HER (Admin)

Gender: M

#Posts: 7133

Pamela & Kayleigh 7/21

Reply #2 on July 22, 2018, 4:37pm PST

HeavyD – Always a pleasure to see you at the ranch, and I'm glad you enjoyed your time with Pamela and Kayleigh. Can't wait until you return so we can talk college football again! Go Boise State, right?

-Colt

 

You're a cool guy, Darius, and have been good to Pamela over the five years you've been coming to see her. Thank you.

She is always complimentary of you and loves those gifts from Amazon. Yet, Colt trusted that Darius understood Pamela provided him a service, a fantasy. It’s not real. Darius knew not to fall in love with her like Charlie and so many others had. I never have to worry about things when Pamela is with you.

 

From: Scarlett_HER

Gender: F

#Posts: 344

Pamela & Kayleigh 7/21

Reply #3 on July 22, 2018, 5:01pm PST

Sammy, you rotten scoundrel! Next time you're in town, I expect you to purchase a party with Pamela, Kayleigh, AND me! You know the three of us would rock your socks off like they have never been rocked before!

XOXOXOBJ, Scarlett

 

God, Scarlett. Why are you trying to strong-arm a customer into seeing you on the public message board? Colt knew she was joking and meant no harm, and Sammy surely wouldn’t mind, but others would see this and may get the wrong impression. This should’ve been an e-mail.

I bet you cost us two or three potential new customers with your reply. Not that Scarlett cared, right? The only thing you care about is yourself. You’re a million times worse than Kayleigh. She’s a saint compared to you.

 

From: Pamela_HER

Gender: F

#Posts: 1763

Pamela & Kayleigh 7/21

Reply #5 on July 22, 2018, 5:15pm PST

Darius,

Thank you for the awesome review. You are such a sweet man. It was so nice to see you and spend time with you again.

“Pamela Boop”

 

From: HeavyD9116

Gender: M

#Posts: 181

Pamela & Kayleigh 7/21

Reply #6 on July 22, 2018, 5:43pm PST

Pamela,

You want to talk about sweet? It doesn't get any sweeter than you! I think you should win Courtesan of the Year!

>Darius

 

From: TopMonger

Gender: M

#Posts: 74

Pamela & Kayleigh 7/21

Reply #7 on July 22, 2018, 6:57pm PST

Hey Sammy,

You've talked Kayleigh up a lot this week. That is strange as I've never seen you throw such excessive compliments to any lady either here or on any of the other brothel forums like you have her (and you're on all of them). Kayleigh must be outstanding! I'm so intrigued I've booked an appointment with her during my Vegas vacation in October!

 

From: Kayleigh_HER

Gender: F

#Posts: 16

Pamela & Kayleigh 7/21

Reply #8 on July 22, 2018, 7:33pm PST

Darius :)

It was such a pleasure meeting you! Pamela told me what a great guy you were beforehand, and she wasn't lying.

And I loved being squished between you and Pamela! Let's do it again next time!

Sweet kisses, Kayleigh :)

 

From: Kayleigh_HER

Gender: F

#Posts: 17

Pamela & Kayleigh 7/21

Reply #8 on July 22, 2018, 7:36pm PST

TopMonger,

I cannot wait until you come and see me in October! I love ALL my customers and promise to take care of you!

Warmest hugs, Kayleigh :)

 

It’s too bad. By the end of the year, Colt envisioned Lindsay earning record numbers at the house. I've never had so many customers call or send me e-mails like they did this past week asking about a turnout fresh off the bus like they did about her. Sammy’s initial review put Lindsay on the map and now she was the most talked about girl Colt had. Sammy had a tremendous influence over their clientele and everyone respected his opinion. There isn't a monger alive who's partied with more working girls than him.

Colt realized that people from all over the country – the world, even – sent Sammy private messages and asked him for advice and his opinion on all things LPIN. He has directed a lot of new clients toward us. So, Colt had always tried to stay on Sammy’s good side.

But as for Lindsay, Colt figured she wouldn’t last until the end of the year, perhaps not even the end of this month, to earn those record financials. She’s down to her last strike. We should start looking for a replacement ASAP, one who’s the same age, the same body type.

 

From: Xccentric

Gender: M

#Posts: 26

Pamela & Kayleigh 7/21

Reply #9 on July 22, 2018, 8:16pm PST

I was lucky enough to party with Pamela on a recent trip through Flagstone. In addition to all the other great things people have said about her, Pamela plays the best and most relaxing music during her parties. It's called chillstep, and she has converted me into a lifelong fan.

Thought I'd throw my two cents in.

 

From: Jim_HER (Admin)

Gender: M

#Posts: 4394

Pamela & Kayleigh 7/21

Reply #10 on July 22, 2016, 9:04pm, PST

Thanks for coming and seeing Pamela and Kayleigh, HeavyD9116! We appreciate your kind words and you being such a great guy!

Jim

 

* * *

 

“Whatcha lookin' at there?” Before he could pull his attention away from his smartphone, a pair of arms enveloped Colt from behind for a warm, long-lasting embrace. I know that voice. Elisabeth, his employee and reason for still being at the airport, stepped back as he pivoted to face her, and her gaze danced with an energetic, friendly greeting. “Hey, Colt!” She gave a halfhearted attempt to bite his finger as if she was a snapping turtle. “How are you? It's good to see you again!”

“Checkin' out the website out is all.” Colt smiled and felt relieved Elisabeth had finally shown up. The sooner I get back to the house, the better. I'm so tired.

Elisabeth was a marvelous, captivating young woman with sparkling green eyes; long, yellow-blonde hair; and the type of bright, pearly-white smile often seen in toothpaste advertisements. At five-foot-eight and 130 pounds, not only was Elisabeth physically fit but also incredibly voluptuous, with 34dd-24-36 measurements. “They are really fake and really expensive,” she would admit to any monger who dare asked.

“It's good to see you as well. You look great, Elisabeth, as always. How was your flight?”

“Oh, it was fine. No issues at all. It takes less than ninety minutes to get here from Denver by air. Just a quick hop, skip, and a jump away.” Elisabeth extended both arms and hugged him again. “Thank you for agreeing to pick me up. I appreciate it.”

“Not a problem.” In another time, perhaps an alternate reality, Colt would’ve been all over Elisabeth. She was the type of woman he chased in his younger days. A perfect mixture of sweetness and smoldering, unapologetic sensuality, Elisabeth was in an erotic galaxy all her own.

Still, she ain’t got nothin' on Pamela.

“How is your husband? Still giving you grief over working at the brothel?”

“It's gotten better in recent weeks, I guess. He may not like it, but Robert knows the money is too good. We can't survive without the extra income since he lost his job.” Elisabeth was also a popular webcam model on Streamate and handled her own website where she featured a blog, explicit photographs, hardcore videos, and silly, everyday shenanigans. Elisabeth managed websites for other camgirls and courtesans too. Several mongers were paying subscribers, and she had quite the lucrative side hustle going with all the online content.

Colt took Elisabeth's backpack and flung it over his shoulder, grabbed hold of her Samsonite suitcase, and moved it about on its roller wheels. Gotta be a gentleman like Dad taught me and handle all the heavy lifting. “I bet you'd like to stop at Starbucks before we hit the freeway.”

A grin swept across Elisabeth's lips as she shielded her eyes with a pair of shades. “Starbucks sounds amazing.” Like all the ladies who worked at the brothel, Elisabeth had a spectacular, effervescent personality, was bubbly, excitable, enthusiastic, and full of life.

And she could flip it on or off at the drop of a dime.

“So, how is Pamela doing? I heard the two of you went to Bora Bora for your ten-year wedding anniversary? I've always wanted to go there myself.”

“We did.” Colt grinned at the memories as they exited the baggage claim area and began walking toward the parking lot. “Going there, our trip, it was insane. We checked into the Four Seasons Bora Bora and they gave us a surprise upgrade. We had no idea it was coming. They upgraded us to one of the most prestigious rooms available. There were four of these total in the whole resort and it was, if not one of the largest overwater bungalows in the world. It was a five thousand dollar a night room and we only paid about sixteen hundred.” Actually, the entire cost was covered by credit card points. “Pamela was so happy she was crying.”

“Fantabulous! I love getting upgrades at swanky hotels like that too. I always tell my husband, let me do all the talking. If an upgrade is available, we usually get it. Got a lit room in L.A. earlier this year doing that.”

“Batting those pretty eyelashes, huh?”

“Yep!”

In a city known for its gorgeous, captivating women, Elisabeth still stood out. She had on a snug-fitting white tank top that flaunted her considerate up-top assets and a pair of skintight yellow shorts. Her legs, sleek and otherworldly, had a deep, rich tan.

“I woke up early this morning and did ninety minutes of yoga. Needed to get my session in. Also promised myself I wouldn't eat any carbs today.”

“Let's go get some pizza.”

Elisabeth rolled her eyes at Colt's playful tease.

“The funny thing is, like, when I go to eat bad – like I'm gonna pig-out – I have this mindset where I'm gonna eat this, I'm gonna eat that, but, you know, my stomach is like … this big.” Elisabeth held up her pinky finger and pointed at its tip. “You've seen me eat many times. You know how little I eat.”

“Yeah, nothing.”

“And I'm always so full!” Elisabeth produced a bag of mixed snacks. “I say this as I've been munching on these for the past hour. So much for no carbs, huh?”

“What is it? Trail mix, or something?”

“Well, I gave all the pretzels to some guy on the plane who was sitting next to me. I like the brown rye chips, they're delicious, and I wasn't willing to share. So, this guy … he wouldn't stop flirting with me. He was tryin' everything in the freakin' book. Finally, I told him, look bruh, if you want to bang me – which you obviously do – meet me up at Happy Ending Ranch in Flagstone in a day or two. It's a brothel and I work there. It's where I'm headed. I'll fuck you like you've never been fucked before. For a considerable price, of course.”

Colt was chuckling. Classic Elisabeth. She was often blunt, to the point, and pulled no punches. “Trying to promote our house, huh? Attract us a new customer? Way to go! What did he say?”

“Bruh was silent for the rest of the flight.” Colt laughed again as Elisabeth added, “But when we landed, he asked how far Flagstone is from Vegas and if we accept credit.”

 

<> <> <> <> <>

 

Sammy couldn't contain his smile as he pulled up to the terminal building at Salt Lake International Airport and saw a dazzling, unmistakable mass of red hair glowing in the early morning sunlight. Scarlett made eye contact with him for a split-second, but soon spun on her heels and bent over at the waist to retrieve the suitcase she'd set down beside her. The not-so-innocent move resulted in Scarlett flashing her ass in broad daylight underneath her swishy summer dress and Sammy's cock promptly swelling in his trousers. Scarlett's ass was spectacular, so plump and round, and Sammy knew in due time he'd be fucking it.

Along with every other square inch of her body too.

Sammy stepped out of his 2018 Maserati GranTourismo convertible and met Scarlett halfway for a long, drawn-out hug. His fingers snatched the bulky suitcase and pulled it away. The elite, sporty vehicle – one of Sammy's many toys as a wealthy businessman – was capable of zero to sixty in five seconds. It was a gorgeous, powerful machine, and the envy of friends and strangers alike.

Scarlett was beaming and in a vibrant mood as words began pouring out of her mouth. “Thanks for wanting to see me again, baby. I was hoping to make a little more money these past three weeks back at the ranch, but the extra five thousand today will push that over the top, and I'll fly back to Cincinnati tonight a happy girl.” Still grinning, she shook her head and kissed Sammy's cheek. “You've always taken care of me. Thank you.”

When Scarlett was relaxed and comfortable, she enjoyed talking, and her voice warmed Sammy from the inside-out. He wasn't paying close attention to what she said as he popped open the trunk and put her suitcase inside. It wasn't that Sammy didn't care or found her uninteresting. He did care – to an extent – and wanted to know how Scarlett was doing and what was new in her life. Rather, the sound of her voice soothed him and, after a heated argument with his wife this morning over breakfast, Sammy was overjoyed he'd be able to spend the day with a stunning, vibrant supermodel-lookalike who'd be at his beck and call. Scarlett wouldn't nag, nag, nag, and bitch about everything under the sun like Barbara did.

Amy's mouth will be too full of my dick to say much of anything. …

Sammy moved to the passenger side and opened the door for Scarlett. He held her hand and his eyes drifted down to the tanned, silky expanse of her thigh and slender calf, the curve of her ankle, and the sexy sight of her foot in those black high heels. Desire flowed and his hands trembled with the need to touch her soft skin.

Sublime, delicious, addictive.

A floral scent of jasmine, freesia, and rose wafted by as Scarlett's impeccable, long-flowing hair brushed his forearm and she settled into the vehicle.

I'm going to fist that hair later as I fuck her mouth. Sammy tried to control his urges as he hurried over to the driver's side and got in.

Meeting up with Sammy for an illegal, off-the-books transaction outside the comfort and legality of the brothel was becoming commonplace for Scarlett. This would be the seventh time she'd done so since early 2017, with four prior meetings here in Utah, one in Vegas, and another in her hometown of Greyford, Ohio.

$5,000 was too much to pass up for ten hours of work. Heck, Sammy paid for Scarlett’s airfare both to and out of Utah and always treated her to a hearty meal at a five-star restaurant. She trusted him implicitly and knew there was zero chance of them getting caught by the cops. There was no house to split her earnings with, either, and she wouldn’t report any of these earnings on her end-of-year taxes.

$5,000 in cold, hard cash … all for her.

Sammy was philanthropic with his preferred working ladies and had met up with dozens over the years for these secretive, hush-hush encounters. He'd throw all sorts of money at them – sometimes whatever it took – in order to feed his insatiable sex addiction.

Scarlett was the perfect fit for what Sammy desired. To him, she was a tried, tested, and true slut junky. Scarlett could twist her body – another fine display of enhanced surgical artwork – into several unique positions and accommodate his dick from every conceivable angle.

Without the brothel and its rules to adhere to, Sammy didn't have to wear protection as Scarlett showed off her magnificent suck skills and he had free rein to pump her mouth full of jizz whenever he saw fit. Otherwise, there’d be no deal. Scarlett had no problem taking Sammy bareback in her pussy either. Or her ass. She knew no shame and had little to no boundaries in his presence.

Another added benefit of getting these chicks away from those damn houses. Sammy grinned in his own triumph, great as it was, as he glanced over his shoulder and merged into airport traffic. Amy got an IUD contraceptive implanted a year ago and won't become pregnant. Ever, at least as long as she keeps it in.

Indeed, hooking up with Scarlett was nothing more than a transaction. A business transaction. He'd pay Scarlett a generous amount for an intimate service and always got what he wanted out of it by the end. Sammy wasn't looking to fall in love, perhaps sweep Scarlett off her feet, and steal her from her fiancé. No, that wasn't his objective at all.

I want to fuck her. That was his sole motivation, plain and simple. She has a body to die for. But if Sammy did have feelings for Scarlett, she wasn’t relationship material, let alone marriage material. Every other word she says is a lie. I feel sorry for this poor sap she keeps saying she's going to marry in November. I give them two years, tops.

Despite her shortcomings, Scarlett was the finest slut junky he’d ever known. She understood what she was getting paid to do and would work her pretty little ass off for it. Loves my money and will do whatever I tell her without hesitation. A prime piece of pussy, indeed, but still, Sammy would never consider an actual relationship with Scarlett even if he wasn’t married.

But Sammy knew of someone in the industry who was, without a doubt, relationship material. Lindsay Anastacio, that’s who. It was one of the countless things he found so remarkable about her. Other than Alana and Pamela, Lindsay is the only prostitute I’ve ever known that, if there was no Barbara, I’d like to pursue something with. Something real. It was out of the question with Pamela since she was married and so in love with Colt, and Alana was deceased, of course, but Sammy would marry Lindsay and leave everything in his will to her if it was plausible.

As for Scarlett and her positives out of this transaction, the money she earned would go right into her online savings account and gain considerable interest. She kept it separate from her fiancé, too, as he didn’t know about it, nor did he have any reason to.

Scarlett trusted Sammy wouldn’t fall in love or become obsessed with her. He was discreet and never blew up her phone with excess text messages if, for whatever reason, she couldn't agree to meet him. He'd go silent and wait until the next opportunity came along. Sammy wasn't a degenerate loser like most of her clients either.

Thus, Sammy was one of the few clients Scarlett enjoyed being with. She never faked orgasms or simple pleasures with him. There was no need, because every reaction he coaxed out of her was one hundred percent authentic. “The man knows how to fuck. That’s for sure,” she once told Mariko at Happy Ending Ranch when asked about him. “It’s impossible to fake anything with Sammy. I wish my fiancé was half the man he is. I’d be a much happier girl.”

As for her two employers – Colt and Pamela – they didn’t know Scarlett did her share of hooking on the side. While turning a trick or two on her own wasn't enough to get her fired by itself, Scarlett feared that if Colt knew Sammy was a client, he'd terminate her on the spot. They originally met in Colt’s business, and he was a real stickler for keeping everything that happened there under wraps.

 

<> <> <> <> <>

 

“We’re done having this discussion, Colt. It’s over.” As she lay stricken in bed, Pamela glared at her husband with laser beams literally shooting from her eyes. “Only I know how my body feels and no one, not some quack doctor, not even you, has the right to tell me what I can and cannot do. So, it’s my decision. I get to say whether I’m able to work again or not, and that’s just how it is.”

“Why would you risk permanent damage by going back to work?” After the bombshell Pamela dropped moments ago, Colt felt as if a colossus fist had punched through his chest and ripped out his heart. “What’s the point? These men don’t know you. They don’t care about you. Your body … it’s taken an absolute beating over the years.” He regarded her with empathy. Or was it pity? She couldn’t tell. “What more do you have left to prove?”

“Don’t look at me like that.” Pamela didn’t have the energy to yell, but she was doing it anyway. “If you think for one second that I’m going to sit on my butt for the next year or two with my nose buried in a laptop, studying and taking exams every day, you’ve got another thing coming! This is a brothel, Colt, and I’m going to earn my keep.”

“Earn your keep? What are you talking about?” She wasn’t making any sense. “You’re my wife; our marriage, it’s a partnership. We’re equals, dammit! A team. It’s not your fault you’re hurt and unable to work again.”

I will work again!” she spat back, suddenly sitting up and pain subsequently tearing through her lower lumbar region like a chainsaw. Pamela let out a shrill cry, clutching her tailbone and nearly crumpling on her side, but she held steady and again stared daggers through him. “Stay back! Don’t come any fucking closer … I don’t need your help.” She swiped at the tears that burst through. “You can’t tell me what to do!” Her entire body was shaking. This pain was so debilitating, so unfair. Being a working lady is all I know, and I’m afraid to move on to the next stage of my life. “My back will get better, it’ll heal, and everything will return to normal!”

“Is this about staying active?” Cooler heads had to prevail here. Colt didn’t expect to get into an argument with Pamela like this moments after arriving back from Vegas. Surely, everyone in the house could hear them. He’d always preferred to keep whatever dirty laundry between him and Pamela to themselves, and out of the brothel’s gossip mill.

So much for that now, huh?

Besides, she was in no shape – physically or mentally – to fight. Colt had to tone down his voice and somehow get her to do the same. “Why don’t you call all the hospitals and medical care facilities in the area and let them know you’re interested in an internship? Ask for an application?” He shook his head. “I know you don’t want to sit around and do nothing. That’s not your style. An internship would keep you busy and you could work on your graduate’s degree in your downtime.”

“Do you know how fucking difficult it is for a thirty-year-old to be approved for an internship in the medical industry?” Angry tears came fast and furious, and there was no stopping them. “Recruiters are looking for younger candidates, fresher talent, people they can mold.” The proverbial walls were closing in on Pamela, too, and she sucked air into her lungs to help keep them at bay. “And once they review my employment history and realize I’ve been working in a whorehouse for the last twelve years, I’d never even receive a courtesy call back from them, let alone a job offer!”

His eyes dropped. “There’s no harm in trying.”

Oh. My. God! You don’t understand, do you? “I don’t believe this!” You don’t have a fucking clue! “The man I married ten years ago would stand by my side right now, my decisions, and lend me his unwavering support.” If Pamela gave in and admitted defeat, her will to go on would be crushed right along with it. “Without hesitation.”

The veins in Colt’s neck throbbed. His face was on fire. What the hell had gotten into Pamela? It wasn’t like her to stab him in the gut with such a hateful, unwarranted insult. Her words sounded so cold, so deadly. Pamela had to realize her life couldn’t carry on the same way as it always had after suffering a compression fracture in, of all her places, her spine. This was serious stuff. Precautions needed to be taken. Changes had to be made.

Colt remembered a specific word the physician used during his diagnosis: wheelchair. If Pamela wanted to be her stubborn self and risk further damage by circling back to sex work, she could one day wind up in a wheelchair.

Or worse.

Why was she so adamant about this? Colt was confused. Stepping away from prostitution wouldn’t leave her destitute and penniless like it would, say, Sahara or Riley. Pamela had so much going for her, more than she probably realized. She wasn’t a turnout like Lindsay, fresh from the streets, who, for all intents and purposes, ran away from an unhappy life at home. Pamela, along with Colt, had quite the sizable nest egg stashed away in savings. Nor was she Nicolette, who pumped every extra dime she had into the treatment of a perpetually ill son.

Why did Pamela feel so compelled to return to a profession that had done so much damage to not only her body but also her psyche? She was smarter than this. There was no reason Pamela couldn’t get her foot in the door at a medical or counseling center and forge a new career.

No reason at all.

Hell, Pamela could go to bartender’s school and manage the parlor if she was so intent on continuing to work here. Or help Colt run the business side of things, behind the scenes, more than she already did. Anything, he thought, other than being an active provider.

“Take a deep breath, Pamela, honey, and settle down. I know you’re upset. Let this mess blow over, your emotions to settle, and we’ll talk later tonight. Okay? Let’s both go into it with an open mind, and we’ll figure everything out together. Just like we always have. Can we agree to do that? To talk and be civil? Like we love each other?”

“Fine,” she conceded, “but I’m still not giving up.”

 

<> <> <> <> <>

 

Forty-five minutes after leaving the airport, Scarlett and Sammy had just been served their breakfast meal at Andrix Café in downtown Salt Lake City.

“You look tired, hon.”

“Yeah, I am. Tired and cranky.”

“Too tired to have sex with me today?”

“No way.” Scarlett reached over and ran a finger down Sammy’s chest. “You’re offering me too much money.”

At least that’s one thing you’re honest about.

“Does that make me a bad person?”

“It doesn’t make you a bad person,” Sammy replied. “It makes you human. We all need to work, earn an income. I’m glad you choose to earn yours the way you do.”

“Thanks. I do the best I can.”

He snickered. “I know you do, darlin’.”

Scarlett leaned forward, elbows on the table, face tense. “It's been a crazy last couple of weeks at work. I had an overnight with Pamela and some clueless virgin from Detroit last week.” Her eyebrows knitted. “Charlie … he was a big, fat fuck of a bastard. A total emo too.” She shrugged and blew out a tortured breath. “I mean, I was exhausted the whole next day. And last night, alone, I had three parties. I should've been in my room, resting and sleeping because of today, but I wanted to make a little extra cash.” Scarlett guided Sammy's hand to her mouth and kissed it. “Sorry I dozed off in your car earlier.”

“Don't be. I know what Colt and other house owners are like.” Sammy laced his fingers around hers. “They drive you girls into the ground and always expect more.”

“Colt is tame. He's not that way,” she said, cocking her head to the side. “The girls who've been around LPIN for a while, like Nicolette, Sahara, Riley, Mariko, all agree Colt is the best boss they've ever had. Me, personally? I have no issues with him. If I ever ask for a few hours off, even a whole day, Colt has never turned me down. He's good about that. He's sympathetic toward us because Pamela is a sex worker too. He understands what she goes through and that it can be a grueling job.”

“I don't know.” Sammy shrugged Scarlett's words off like he didn't believe them. Like he thought Colt was an inconsiderate asshole behind closed doors and took advantage of his employees like most of the other brothel owners did. According to Lindsay, he’s some sort of mad dictator. “Don't fault yourself for wanting to make a little money last night, dear. Ain't nothing wrong with that.” Sammy rubbed the aching muscles at the back of his neck. If it were up to him, prostitution would not only be legal in the United States, but worldwide, and an accepted (and respected) job for any woman to have. “How much take-home did you get on your check this time?”

“Eleven thousand two hundred eight dollars and some odd cents.” Scarlett’s lips curled upward. “Not bad for three weeks of work, eh? And for someone who dropped out of high school and never graduated? I think I'm doing fairly well for myself.” Things would be better in two years when, long after she was married to her fiancé, Jason, he would get the trust fund his father left for him before passing away. Scarlett was going to be set up for life, and she’d never have to work again.

“And a flat five grand bonus today on top of it too.”

“You're way too generous. Thank you, Sammy. The eleven thousand was awesome, but not quite what I was hoping to end up with after the overnight party.” A haunted look flashed in her eyes. “I got forty-five hundred alone for it.” Scarlett nibbled on a piece of cinnamon swirl French toast and glanced down at her main course. “This sausage and egg casserole is delicious. Andrix has the best breakfast I've ever had.”

Sammy grinned. “That is why I always bring you here when you're in town visiting. I know you enjoy it.” He leaned in closer. “What about this fat fuck from Detroit? What’d you say his name is? Talking about him seems to upset you. Something you want to tell me?”

“Charlie?” Her stomach quivered and she searched for the right words to say. “A nothing, no-good virgin, and he fell in love with Pamela and has been stalking her through e-mail ever since. Wants to run off with her, marry her, have babies with her. I’m glad it’s not me.”

“Oh, I see.” His eyebrows drew closer. “I understand now. This Charlie guy, he’s one of them.” Sammy sighed heavily. “Colt and Pamela have it under control?”

“Yeah. They deal with shit like that all the time.” She held up a slice of bacon. “So, what's this you were telling me when I was in Vegas and we were on the phone earlier? You're meeting up with Kayleigh in two weeks? She’s going to come and see you here in Salt Lake?”

Sammy shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, she is. And she prefers going by her real name – Lindsay. She hates it that Colt forces her to use a stage name.”

“Can’t blame her, really. I don't like it either. But it's necessary for safety. I don't want some creep-jacker in Podunkwhere USA to look me up on the Internet and find out every little, private detail they can about me.”

Like I did once you told me your real name last year? Oh, I've run background checks on you and know all about your family and what each of them does for a living, Amy. Your little sister, Cassidy, should get a job in a brothel as well. She'd make a fine whore, and I’d pay a king’s ransom to fuck both you and her together at once.

You're also quite the little cocktease on Instagram, too, constantly begging for attention and more followers, with all your bikini and lingerie photos. You should upgrade to being a camwhore and get it over with.

You and your sister!

Sammy squeezed her wrist and spoke softly, “People looking you up like that on the web would be … awful.

Scarlett nodded and sat up straight. “I find it difficult to believe that Kayleigh – Lindsay – is driving all the way up here to see you. Not to say you're lying, but I … can't see it. Can't imagine it. She doesn’t even have a car yet.”

“It was her idea, not mine.”

Scarlett again glanced at her breakfast plate and bit the inside of her lip. “Pamela has that girl under her thumb – the same way she does Colt – and I'd think that by now, Lindsay would have blabbed and told Pamela she wants to see you. Girl does not seem to be the type who can keep her secrets well at all. Lindsay is open, trusting, and overly emotional.”

“And naive.”

Scarlett nodded. “She's too gullible. Someone is going to hurt her bad one day. Just you wait and see.”

Sammy winced. I hope that someone isn't me.

“At least I know you'll take care of her.” Scarlett stroked his arm. “But you said she doesn't want any money?”

“No. No money.”

“Strange.” The thirty-four-year-old rolled her head in circles. “I'd never see a client for free, including you.”

“Lindsay insists she doesn't want any money or gifts. She says she’s going to pay for the hotel out of her own pocket too.” What a sweetheart. “Silly girl. That's so not happening. I'll be paying for everything.”

Scarlett stifled a laugh. “Are you paying her, too?”

“I'll insist and if she still refuses, I'll slip five thousand in cash into her purse when she's not looking.” Actually, it'll be twenty thousand, but I don't want you to know that. You'll get pissed I'm paying Lindsay more. “Girls like Lindsay, like you, Amy, need to be taken care of. You need to be pampered like the angels you are.”

She smirked. “Aww. There’s a reason why a lot of people call you The Whore Whisperer. You're always so kind and generous, so giving, with your money.”

“It's for a worthwhile cause, I’d say.”

 

<> <> <> <> <>

 

It was minutes before midnight and, though business was booming earlier, things had since slowed down considerably. Kenzie, along with Lindsay, went back to her room with a married couple and both ladies would entertain them for ninety minutes, but no one else had a client.

The couple, vacationing in Las Vegas from Rhode Island, scheduled this appointment with Kenzie all the way back in April. Husband Nick had been to the ranch several times over the past three years and enjoyed partying with Kenzie, his own all-time favorite, a common term used by mongers on the bulletin boards.

Nick had been upfront with his wife about his love for brothels since day one. Visiting them was an addictive hobby. He'd been trying to convince Becky to tag along on one of his trips and make it a threesome for the past two years, and she finally agreed this past spring.

Becky had a few sexual experiences with other females during high school but hadn't been with one since 1998. To help set things up, Kenzie not only shared a ton of e-mail with Nick, but Becky as well. She was accommodating and did whatever she could to help ease any concerns Becky had and answer all her questions.

But when they got to the house and began conversing with Kenzie in the parlor, Lindsay came out and asked Jim for a Diet Mountain Dew. All it took was one look and Becky knew she wanted to add Lindsay to the mix and make it a foursome. She briefly discussed things with Nick and they agreed to take the massive financial plunge – What was he going to tell her? No? – and Jim went back, brought Lindsay out again, and made the introductions.

“Hey, kiddos,” Colt said to Sahara and Riley as he ventured downstairs to the game room. The sweet, happy duo, engaged and set to be married in December, were curled up together underneath a bedsheet on the sofa, watching television. “Miss Nicolette,” Colt then said, swishing a hand through her thick, luxurious brown hair.

“Hi.” She craned her neck to look back at him and smiled. “Hey, where are all the customers tonight? This place is dead.”

He grimaced. “I know.”

“I could've easily gone into the cow business a long time ago.” Colt turned and watched Elisabeth as she strolled into the den from a side room. She had a cowboy hat atop her head and was busy adjusting it with both hands. “Look how irresistible I am.” Elisabeth, along with Mariko, yet another returnee, had to wait until the morning for her medical labs to come back until she could work. Dr. Muenich would have the results faxed to Colt’s office by nine o’clock.

Nicolette sat up in the recliner and eyed Elisabeth, who was dressed in nothing but a purple bra and G-string. “Irresistible is an understatement.”

Sahara’s lips curved up into a smile. “Looking sexy as fuck, Elisabeth.”

“She always does,” Riley nodded. “You want to lie down and cuddle with us, baby?”

“Sure, why not?” Elisabeth shrugged her shoulders like their request was the most natural thing, nestled in between Sahara and Riley on the sofa, and tossed the bedsheet up to her neck. She shared deep, slow-moving kisses with both ladies and giggled like a schoolgirl. “I was hoping Scarlett would be here. Oh, well. I'll see her next week, I guess.”

“Scarlett texted me a few minutes ago,” Colt said. “Sent me a selfie of her and her fiancé hugging and kissing at the Cincinnati airport. I think that’s her way of telling me she's glad to be home.” He took out his smartphone and showed the photograph in question to everyone.

“Aww, Scarlett loves Jason with all her heart,” Nicolette crooned. “I hope he realizes how lucky he is.”

Colt wasn’t aware that Scarlett had sent him an old photograph. In reality, she'd just boarded the redeye flight from Salt Lake City to Cincinnati and, after having all three of her orifices ravaged by Sammy today, was enjoying some well-deserved R&R in the first-class cabin.

“Your hair is up tonight.” Colt admired Nicolette with a soft, considerate gaze. “I don't see it that way often.”

“I'm not as creative as Sahara or Riley when it comes to hair fashion, but I try my best.”

“You don't have to try hard.” Silently, Nicolette glanced over at Elisabeth before offering a shy little grin. It wasn't often anyone could get Nicolette to blush.

“I do have to agree with you about one thing you said,” Nicolette murmured to Elisabeth.

“Oh? What's that, baby?”

“You are infinitely irresistible.” Nicolette let loose with her most sincere smile, something she reserved for select, rare occasions. The effect on Elisabeth was immediately noticeable as Sahara and Riley continued to feel her up underneath the bedsheet.

“Such a sweet-talker, Nicolette. Thank you.”

“That isn’t my best pickup line.”

“Oh? What is? Tell me.”

“How about you wrap your legs around my head so I can wear you like the crown you are?”

Elisabeth stared at her, slack-jawed. “Oh, honey. That's awful … just awful.”

“A guy used that on me months ago in Naturetyme Market of all places.”

“I would've given him a swift kick in the balls,” Sahara chimed in. “That's fucking terrible.”

Riley took the cowboy hat from Elisabeth and placed it on her own head. “I've missed this body of yours over the past month, Samantha. You're so fucking incredible.”

Colt's eyes narrowed as Riley had called Elisabeth by her real name. Some of these ladies were close and preferred not to have any barriers between them. All they do is follow Pamela's lead. If I can get Pamela to stop calling them by their real name, they'll stop too.

Good luck with that, though.

“Elisabeth,” Colt calmly corrected Riley.

When Elisabeth extended her right arm, Nicolette stepped forward and leaned over so they could embrace each other. “I love you,” Nicolette said. “You're the best, girl. Has your husband been treating you any better?”

Elisabeth nodded. “He has. Things are okay.”

Colt looked on and smiled. Sahara and Riley soon made it into a four-way hug. With Aaliyah and her hair-trigger temper no longer here, Colt liked the current mix of ladies he had, which made the grim reality of where they were – in a brothel and ready to sell their bodies, their dignity, at a moment's notice – more tolerable. It was a quality group, and they got along for the most part.

Mariko descended the staircase and took the last bite of the fresh, homemade chili Francisco prepared for her a short while ago. Though it was summertime and not particularly chili weather, especially in Nevada, Mariko asked the full-time chef to prepare a batch every time she returned to the house after a hiatus. It was a guilty pleasure and one she'd never outgrow.

“Okaasan – my mother – never cooked when I was growing up,” the Japanese import said to the group. “Five days a week, if not more, we would have a frozen meal at dinnertime like gyoza or tsukemen.” She held up the empty bowl and grinned. “Francisco has chili skills.” Mariko did a happy dance and shimmied her shoulders. “I should marry that boy and have him fix me chili every night for the rest of my life.”

Riley grinned as well. “Don't let Francisco hear you say that. He may think you're serious!”

“I've never had a frozen dinner in my life.”

“Well, aren't you special?” Sahara chirped.

“I'd never eat one! They are disgusting, unhealthy, and filled with junk,” Elisabeth said.

“I've always been a homemade girl as well. Mom used to fix the best lasagna when I was a kid.” Nicolette’s features strained with remorse. “She passed away three years ago from ovarian cancer. I miss her.”

Elisabeth offered her a hug. “Oh, you poor thing. I know losing your mom was rough and you're still not over it.”

“You'll never be over it,” Colt advised. “My dad passed away ten years ago, and I think about him every day. I wish I could still go to him for advice.”

“I remember William,” Nicolette said. “He was a decent man.”

 

* * *

 

Upstairs, Lindsay couldn’t believe she was with Kenzie and the married couple from Rhode Island in Kenzie’s bedroom. Wow! My first foursome! Not only were they chill and easygoing, but Nick and Becky were attractive as well, a stellar combination in Lindsay’s impressionable eyes. Every single day she was stumbling on to something new here at the ranch, something exciting, something outlandish.

I can’t wait until four or five guys show up, all together, and gang-bang me!

Others may disagree and most people, well, they wouldn’t understand. I’m such a lucky girl to have been hired on here! I love my job! Last night, Sahara stressed to Lindsay how important it was to cut loose and embrace her “inner whore” with open arms. She’s right; I’m happy and content with what I do for a living. I made the right choice, and no one can convince me any differently. Waking up each morning and not knowing what sexual adventure awaited her next thrilled Lindsay to no end.

One of her greatest joys was watching a man’s expression as she rode him cowgirl-style and he was about to come. Poor Tony the other night; I seriously thought he was hyperventilating! Being submissive was a key trait of her mental makeup. This act of charming others, pleasing them sexually, gave Lindsay a deep sense of accomplishment and self-worth and satisfied an intimate need to be desired and to serve, even surrender.

What about this friendly couple here? With Kenzie’s assistance, Lindsay hoped to provide Nick and Becky the experience of a lifetime. I want them to leave the brothel tonight more in love with each other than at any point during their seventeen-year marriage.

Lindsay was making money hand over fist and in being confined to the house, she was staying out of trouble. I’m safe as can be here. Everything she’d done so far and will do in the future would be perfectly legal. And in two weeks, I’ll get to see Sammy in Salt Lake City!

After tons of foreplay with condoms, dental dams, and all the strict guidelines she had to follow while working at the ranch, Lindsay would finally get to enjoy sex on her own terms. I want to swallow Sammy’s cum and for him to pump my ass full of it too! Lindsay believed she would be safer with Sammy than she was at the house. I trust that man more than anyone … or anything.

“Kenzie,” Nick said as his eyes devoured her in the see-through, lacey minidress, “I want you on your knees so you can take me in your mouth. It’s been four long months since I fucked your mouth and I don’t want to wait any longer.”

Her eyes blinking, Lindsay trapped her bottom lip between her teeth as Nick unbuckled his belt and wiggled his cargo shorts and boxers to the floor.

“Of course, baby. I’d love for you to fuck my mouth.”

“Do you want a pillow for your knees?”

“No, thank you.” Kenzie was used to being on her knees and it didn’t hurt like it once did. “I’m fine.”

Lindsay tilted her head to the side as she admired the glittering expression across Kenzie’s face. She told me she’s been with this guy twelve to fifteen times and he’s her favorite monger. Kenzie also confided in Lindsay before the party that she was overjoyed Nick’s wife agreed to come to the ranch. It had been a long time coming.

I can’t wait until I have twelve to fifteen parties with Sammy! Darius and Tony too!

“Kayleigh,” Becky said from the reclining chair, “come here and sit in my lap. You can help keep me company while Nick and Kenzie get reacquainted.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Look.” Becky pointed toward them once Lindsay settled into her embrace. “You’re so sweet. And only eighteen, huh? We have a daughter back home two years younger than you.” Lindsay again blushed as Becky planted a kiss on her cheek. “Her name is Carly.”

Even though they were of similar heights and weights, Lindsay felt small compared to Becky, inferior, and that was what Lindsay preferred. Becky was an older, refined lady, in her mid- to late-thirties, and Lindsay was relaxed and at ease as she snuggled into her chest like a contented kitten. I’m young enough to be this woman’s daughter, and that thought alone turns me on. They watched Kenzie kneeling in front of Nick, her head buried in his naked lap.

“Would you like to suck Nick’s cock, too, honey?” Becky’s fingers caressed Lindsay’s stocking-clad thigh and soon found their way inside her frilly little panties. “Look over there.” Her lips nuzzled Lindsay’s ear as she whispered, “Are you as good as Kenzie is when it comes to sucking dick? Can you handle one as big as Nick’s?”

“I can.”

Becky chuckled. “Confidence; I like that. I like that a lot.” She used a pair of fingertips to stroke Lindsay’s clitoris. “Hmm, maybe I’ll keep you for myself instead. Kenzie can be my anniversary gift to Nick, and you my anniversary gift from him. A win-win for us both.” Lindsay spread her thighs wide as Becky peeled down a single bra cup with her opposite hand and squeezed a breast. “So precious.”

Spank me and put me to bed, Mommy. Lindsay noticed Nick’s gaze was fixated between her legs as Becky strummed her pussy like a violin, even with the immense pleasure of Kenzie’s mouth, which was making urgent, wet sounds to please him. He likes having his dick sucked while watching his wife play with my pussy.

No matter how shameful or wicked this new life made her feel, Lindsay could admit to herself that she wanted these shameful, wicked things to be done to her. She couldn’t remember a time when she didn’t feel like a submissive, didn’t have the urge, the need, to be courteous, even subservient, to friends and strangers alike. Bringing happiness to others has always given me great joy.

The realization dawned on Lindsay as she lay snuggling in Becky’s arms, the older woman making certain her husband saw those fingers at work upon her pussy, as Kenzie had to perform fellatio to provide him the pleasure he was entitled to, that he’d pair for, and now Lindsay couldn’t imagine a life without these explicit chores to give her fulfillment, even meaning.

“Open your legs further, Kayleigh, but first, let’s get those panties off. Yeah, they need to go.” With a whimper, Lindsay obeyed, and Becky was quick to pull the little wisp of fabric down. “Now spread your pussy lips and show Nick how pink and wet it is all up inside of you.”

Those words made Lindsay gasp, and she blushed a furious red as Nick looked their way with the eyes of a deranged lunatic. He was ready to pounce, strike like a rattlesnake, and claim what was his.

“You’re not ready to come yet, are you, baby?” Becky’s voice was laced with a playful tease as she regarded Nick, who let out a long, agitated sigh. She shifted her attention back to Lindsay, gliding her soft, pink lips over her earlobe, down her cheek, and eventually to her mouth. The two ladies shared a deep, intimate kiss, their tongues dancing, as the wonderful, wet sounds of Kenzie giving head provided the ideal backdrop for Lindsay and this moment.

“You like watching me play with my sweet Kayleigh’s pussy, don’t you? Wow, it’s so small and tight. I bet you’re gonna struggle to get your dick inside her.”

“Jesus Christ.” Nick breathed in heavy gasps as his gaze was laser-focused on Becky. Watching his darling, otherwise faithful wife make out with an eighteen-year-old girl was undoubtedly the hottest thing he’d ever witnessed.

“Don’t worry, though. I’ll help put you in her, Nicky, baby. I’ll hold your cock and guide it. And look at Kayleigh’s mouth, will you? Look at those lips. They’re gonna look so good wrapped around your dick.” She giggled. “Think you could gag her with it?” Becky again gave Lindsay a long, wet kiss. “Hmm, I’d love to take you home with us, honey, and keep you forever.”

Nick groaned and held Kenzie’s head against his lap.

“Oh, don’t come yet, baby,” Becky said. “I think it’s time Kayleigh straddles my face and I get my first taste of her pussy while you have your fun with your own girl over there. After that, I want to watch you fuck Kayleigh while Kenzie uses that tongue of hers on me.” She offered Lindsay’s hip a few gentle slaps. “Stand up, sweetheart, on the chair itself, and straddle yourself on my face. Be a good girl and do what we’re paying you to do.”

Unable to take anymore of this exquisite torture, Nick shoved Kenzie’s head away. She gasped, not expecting that, as he snapped the condom off and tossed it elsewhere. He made a beeline toward the two ladies in the reclining chair and jammed his erection, without regard or prelude, clear down Becky’s throat.

Fascinated, Lindsay leaned to the side and watched Becky, her face red, cough and choke at the sudden, unexpected invasion. Lindsay recalled Pamela once telling her that condoms were not legally required in a brothel for married partners. Becky’s gaze shifted toward Nick and it was obvious he wasn’t content with throating her. No, not after the tease job she’d just given him. He was going to brutalize her mouth. Nick put one hand on the top of Becky’s head, the other on her jaw, and began hammering away with quick, shallow strokes.

“Look at that dick! Such a lucky girl!” Lindsay was speaking her mind without realizing it. “I wish I could taste him without a condom too!”

Nick withdrew and Becky heaved for precious breath, but slammed his erection right back inside. Thick tears streamed down her cheeks and her temples pounded like a drum. When he pulled out, Becky coughed and retched for oxygen.

“More!” she demanded, anyway, lurching forward with a gaping, hungry mouth, desperate to swallow him again. Nick battered Becky's throat as Kenzie took Lindsay by the hand and pulled her away. It wasn't a second too soon, either, as Nick erupted like an angry volcano as he pulled out and cum spewed everywhere, coating Becky's hair, forehead, eyes, nose, face, lips, and tongue.

Lindsay broke away from Kenzie, leaned back against the wall, and closed her eyes. Her body shivered, full of mad lust. Goosebumps popped up all over her skin as she got rid of her bra and pinched her stiff, sensitive nipples. Lindsay's eyes reopened and focused on the attractive couple as she rolled both nipples between her fingers and squeezed her thighs together.

“I love you, Nick!” Becky sobbed up at him, her face a disheveled, horrible mess. “Oh God … I love you!”

It looks like she dunked her head in a massive vat of cum! It’s a … cum siesta!

Nick enveloped Becky in his arms as he collapsed into the chair and directly on top of her. He burrowed his lips against her neck and started kissing away, his voice breathless. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. …”

Lindsay's eyes were glazed over as her other hand drifted between her thighs. Why does Becky get to have all the fun? I so wish I could be the recipient of a cum bath too! Her breath hitched as she dipped her middle finger into her hot, quivering pussy. Lindsay concentrated on her clitoris with her index finger, rubbing the nub, and causing her senses to skyrocket into the stratosphere.

“I'm so glad you persisted and talked me into coming here with you.” Becky's voice was brimming with emotion as she splayed kisses all over Nick's face and neck. “This was the best anniversary present ever.”

Within seconds, Lindsay took things further and was fucking herself with both fingers.

She flung the back of her head against the wall and slumped down to the floor. Lindsay added a third finger and her right hand stroked away with no shame, faster and faster, harder and harder. She rocked her body against her soaked hand, the pressure becoming too much to withstand. The inner walls of her pussy grabbed at her fingers and she felt the familiar, burning need to have something bigger – something like a hard dick – penetrating her instead.

Sammy, where are you? …

Then it happened. Lindsay orgasmed as her hand and fingers clamped down in an explosion of hysteria. Her movements were erratic and haphazard as she bounced up-and-down upon the floor like she was riding a dick cowgirl-style and her left arm went skyward. Lindsay curled a hand behind her head and lost all control of her faculties, and the pleasure was mind-numbing.

“I'm glad, too, Becky. So glad.” Satisfied himself, Nick continued to barrage his wife with excess kisses.

Kenzie dropped to the floor, twisted Lindsay's face toward hers, and their mouths met in a full, sweeping kiss. The two young, pretty prostitutes hugged and kissed like they were an actual couple as the real couple trembled in the aftermath of the hottest, most intense moment of not only their marriage, but their entire lives as well.

And they still had over sixty minutes to go in this foursome party too. …

 

<> <> <> <> <>

 

After Nick and Becky left, with no other customers in the brothel and only a half-hour from its official closing time, Colt went into Pamela’s bedroom, where she was sleeping, and nestled in beside her. He had a considerable amount of time to think today and come up with the proper game plan after all the earlier fireworks. Pamela stirred beside him and he threaded his fingers around her hand.

“Hey, sweetie,” came his soft whisper. “It’s late, but I’m finally here.”

With a miserable cringe, Pamela rolled on her side to face him. God, she was breathtaking, even with her life in shambles, and yet that ever-present positive aura still radiated. Colt swiped hair away from her forehead and kissed her. “You ready to talk?”

Her body squirmed.

“No yelling this time.”

She managed to prop herself up against the headboard and jut out her lower lip. “Okay. Let’s talk.”

“It’s two-thirty and I closed the house early. I don’t want any interruptions.” He expected her to get upset, just as she had all the other times he’d locked the doors before it was closing time. What if a potential customer was outside?

Instead, she nodded. “Fine by me.”

“How’s your back? Does it feel any better?”

“A little. I need to take my pain meds at six o’clock and my other meds at eight.”

“You need anything from the kitchen?”

“No, I’m cool.”

Colt realized he had to approach this discussion in a far different manner than earlier. Else, the result would be the same. “I know you’re not feeling well, and I apologize; me raising my voice was uncalled for. But I’ve been thinking, and I’d like for us to go home to Maryland for a week or two so you can rest up, get yourself better. We could tell your parents, your family, you injured yourself on a hiking trip, or something. They don’t know what we do out here. And you could go see Dr. Pietz, and she could refer you to a back specialist. I know you trust her word implicitly.”

Pamela’s eyes filled with tears.

Colt’s arms encircled her, and he brought the side of her face to his chest. “I’m so sorry this happened to you, but I’m here in whatever way you need me. You’re my wife and I support you wholeheartedly.”

Pamela burst into tears against the fabric of his dress shirt. She wanted to stay there forever, in his loving embrace, because it was the only place she truly felt safe, but she also wanted to shove him away just as badly. Why won’t you trust me when I say I can get through this? It’s my body and you hurt me today, Colt. You really hurt me.

She did push away. “This whole thing sucks!” But Pamela also knew a good idea when she heard one. Seeing Dr. Pietz in Baltimore, her primary care physician since her teenaged years, would give her a sense of clarity, peace of mind, whatever she wanted to call it. Dr. Pietz wouldn’t send her to a specialist who’d rush to a diagnosis and insist on immediate, sweeping life changes, either, like that crackpot in Caliente did, nor would she condone her for the career choices she made. Dr. Middleton and his judgmental, holier-than-thou attitude can go choke on a dick for all I care!

“It does suck. I spoke to Mayor Bradley today. You know how city council demands I be here, on the premises, fifteen days out of every month or else they’ll close the brothel permanently? I told Mayor Bradley what happened, and he insists we take all the necessary time away for you to recover. He said he’ll handle city council for us.”

Pamela nodded. “Jim clued me in earlier. He said he probably won’t be getting a day off for a long, long time.”

“Jim is worried sick about you, too, you know.” Colt traced his fingertip along Pamela’s jaw. “But wouldn’t it be nice to be away from this place for a while? To be home, where you belong, with your family all within reach?”

“We just got back from Bora Bora.”

“We did, and we can go away again. Let’s see what Dr. Pietz and her colleague, whomever she refers you to, says. I trust her word, too, and if she gives you the green light to continue working, you’ll have no resistance from me.”

Colt watched his wife swallow hard and cross her arms. Were his words convincing enough, though they weren’t necessarily the truth? He knew that Pamela returning to work would lead to future catastrophe. But he also knew that she was intelligent enough to listen to Dr. Pietz, of all people, and when she gave her the same grim outlook Dr. Middleton did, Pamela would have no choice but to retire. To be smart, to play it safe, and have a comfortable future.

No way she’d go against Dr. Pietz’s orders.

“Okay, fine.” Pamela fidgeted with the thin bedsheet. “We can go home to Baltimore for a while. It’s a much better place for me to be right now.”

He moved closer and lifted her chin. “Perfect. I’ll go online in the morning and buy two airline tickets for later in the week. Give more time for your swelling to go down and make the trip a little easier for you.”

“No, no; I have a better idea.” A thick, spikelike pressure originated in her lower back and spread like a horrible plague. Just like that, Pamela could barely breathe and gripped the comforter with all her might, but somehow willed herself to continue. “Buy tickets for later today, this afternoon. I-I want us to be home, sl-sleeping in our bed tonight, and I’ll call Dr. Pietz’s office in a few hours and see if they can schedule me for first thing … in the morning.”

 

(End of Chapter Eleven - to be continued)





 

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