Shoe Girl - Cover

Shoe Girl

Copyright© 2019 by awnlee jawking

Chapter 7

Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 7 - A young girl with a problem barters for help from an amoral man.

Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft   Anal Sex   Enema   Oral Sex  

Mel and I reached the Punjabi Palace without encountering anyone we knew. I was pleased to see someone I recognised on ‘meet and greet’ duty in the reception area, immediately inside the door.

“Hello Mr Sharma,” I said as we shook hands. “Is upstairs open today? I’m spending some quality time with my favourite niece and we’d like somewhere quiet where we can talk.”

Mel affected an angelic smile while affixing herself to my left side, the side away from the main restaurant, like a limpet.

“Of course, Mr Jackson,” said the distinguished-looking Indian man. “You’re always welcome to dine upstairs when it’s not booked for a party. My nephew Rajesh is serving today.”

“Thank you, Mr Sharma.”

Mel bolted up the stairs in front of us and I followed behind. “I saw some Green Hill jerks in the restaurant,” she hissed when I caught up with her at the top. “I hid behind you and I don’t think they saw me.”

As soon as he noticed our arrival, Rajesh bustled over. “Welcome Mr Jackson. Please sit wherever you like.”

Mel grabbed my hand and tugged me to a table well away from where the other diners, all older folk, were seating. There were a couple of scowls when they saw I was accompanied by a teenage girl, but nobody overtly complained. And the subdued lighting prevented any of the other diners from getting too good a look at Mel’s dodgy attire.

Rajesh brought us a couple of menus. Mel and I decided to forego starters. For main course she selected a curry while I chose roast duck from the English section.

“I’m curious,” I said to Mel in a quiet voice so I wouldn’t be overheard. “When you do stuff with boys, what do you get out of it? You said they rarely last a minute so I assume they don’t get you off.”

Mel thought for a while before answering. “Take Dave, for example,” she said. “His family has a large property with an address in Shenlea, although it’s right on the edge of Green Hill. I let him fuck me in exchange for being allowed to use their pool in summer. It’s much nicer than the council pool and it saves me money. Dave can squirt now and he doesn’t want to use my bum so he gets blowjobs when I’m fertile.”

Mel fixed her bewitching blue-grey eyes on me, as though expecting me to be shocked, but I countered her challenge with an unchanged expression.

“Then there’s Mikey, who’s a couple of years younger than me,” Mel continued. “His sister, Sally, is in my class and she’s big. For letting him fuck me, Sally protects me from the class bullies. Mikey doesn’t squirt yet so I let him use whichever hole he wants, even when I’m fertile.”

It wasn’t my place to judge Mel on using her body as a commodity, especially as I was going to be one of the beneficiaries. However I was rather impressed at her entrepreneurship: I’d heard of kids selling their bodies for mere frivolities like drugs and alcohol.

Unusually for someone for whom knowledge was power, I didn’t feel like hearing more revelations so I steered the subject to Mel’s school, and she was soon chatting away about her lessons and her teachers, with me occasionally making pertinent comments to show I was listening.

After Rajesh arrived with our meals, Mel and I settled mostly into a companionable silence while we ate. I’d had the roast duck before and it was up to its usual high standard. Mel seemed please with her curry and I was pleased her table manners were of a much higher standard than her clothes.

“Coffee and dessert,” I asked, after Mel had cleaned her plate.

“Coffee yes, but no dessert,” said Mel. “I haven’t got room for any more food.”

“Not even ice cream? Their mango flavour is very good.”

I could tell Mel was wavering, so when Rajesh came over to clear up after our main courses, I ordered two mango ice creams and two coffees. When I saw the way Mel’s face lit up on sampling her ice-cream, I knew I’d made a good call.

After we finished our coffees I settled the bill, leaving a generous tip, then Mel and I left the restaurant, with Mel again trying to hide behind me.

“It’s okay,” she sighed, once we were outside. “I didn’t see the Green Hill jerks. They must have already left.”

Back in the car, I set off round the gyratory towards Shenlea. “You’ll have to guide me,” I told Mel. “Please give me plenty of notice before I need to make any turns.”

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