Geeta the Teenage Prostitute Tames an Attorney

by Julia Zenobia

Copyright© 2008 by Julia Zenobia

Erotica Sex Story: An evil lawyer learns it's wrong to trifle with Geeta the wily teen prostitute. Of the Geeta tales, this was probably the most fun to write.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Heterosexual   BDSM   DomSub   Spanking   Rough   Light Bond   Humiliation   Sadistic   Torture   Interracial   .

Geeta's heavy 36C breasts jiggled in time to the fucking she was getting from one of her best customers. She had already cum twice as the man's 7-inch cock pounded into her - first a beautiful G-spot orgasm, followed by a massive clitoral orgasm as her vaginal lips repeatedly opened and closed around the cock, pulling her clit in and out of its sheath. Geeta didn't get fucked that much - usually just hand jobs, with some blowjobs tossed in now and again, and so her teenage cunt wasn't that accustomed to the treatment it was now receiving.

The customer had been deliberately holding back as long as he could. It wasn't every day he got to fuck a gorgeous girl like Geeta. He wished he had enough money to make her his full-time mistress, but unless he won the lottery some day, that would never happen. But he could afford to visit her once a week, and every 10th visit, Geeta rewarded him by letting him fuck her. This was the third time he had had the privilege, and he had been looking forward to it. He would have been very surprised to know that the orgasms displayed by the young girl squirming beneath him had not been faked. The man was over 50 with almost no hair and very overweight. He knew he couldn't get a date to save his life, and the very idea that a young girl would take pleasure in being with him was something he found laughable. He thought Geeta was just being polite by pretending to enjoy fucking him.

But he was mistaken to think so. Of course Geeta found the sight of her customer distasteful, as would any teenage girl. At school just that day (Geeta was a top student at Our Mother of Divine Mercy Secondary School)in religion class they had been discussing the various challenges posed by marriage, and their teacher Sister Mary had mentioned how the challenges could be increased if there was a big age difference in the couple. She made reference to former student of hers who, at age 19, had married a man in his forties. "Ewwwwwwwwwww that's gross!" was the comment of most of the girls in the class, and Geeta had felt the same way. But lying on her back on a massage table, spread open for her customer's pleasure, her legs wrapped around his waist, Geeta felt rather differently. Her mind was lost in a fantasy, in which she was being fucked by an Indian prince who had picked her above all the other girls in the harem. In her mind, she was fucking a handsome young man. The customer's cock was rather larger than Geeta usually got, and this, combined with the man's decent technique, allowed her to relax in his arms and enjoy the experience. More often than not a customer was able to make Geeta cum by fucking her, provided he could keep going for 5 minutes or so. And when Geeta allowed a man to lick her, it was rare indeed that she didn't cum - cunnilingus usually reduced her to quivering jello within a couple of minutes.

But now enough was enough. She was starting to get sore, and there was always the possibility that the rubber the man was wearing might tear if she stopped lubricating. Geeta was very experienced, and knew exactly what to do. She raised her legs even higher, whispering in the man's ear, "That's it baby keep going - fuck me harder and faster like I know you can!" The man responded, luxuriating in the warm wetness of Geeta's inner folds. And now her tongue was in his ear, and then she began to kiss him passionately on the lips, which no other whore ever did for him. And then, incredibly, he felt a finger snake up his ass, heading unerringly for his prostate, and he could hold back no longer.

"Uhh UHH uHHH UHHH! he grunted in time with his heavy thrusts, as he filled the rubber with a deposit of cum. He kept on going and going, his erection taking a long time to die down, Geeta matching him thrust for thrust, pushing back in the same rhythm. Finally the customer ceased his movements, resting on his elbows above the teenage beauty beneath him. The man was as white as could be, and he loved the contrast of his skin with the dark beauty beneath him, with the breasts like mangoes, the nipples bulbous and bursting. He had fallen deeply in love with the girl, something he knew was absurd, but that was how he felt nonetheless. He had no way of showing his love for her other than by visiting her regularly and paying her very, very well.

Geeta slipped out from under the man, who then turned over onto his back. She wet a towel in the shower stall inside the massage room, and gently washed the man down. Except for his cock - she cleaned that with her mouth, staring into the man's eyes as she took in his member and washed it with her tongue. She opened her mouth, and let him see the last few drops of cum that he'd deposited on her tongue - then she closed her mouth and swallowed, opening again to show that the cum had disappeared down her throat. She licked the man's cock and balls for a while, curious to see if he'd get hard again. If he did, she'd give him a quick hand job, not wanting to send him away erect and wanting more. But the man had had enough, and when there was no sign the cock was going to stir to life, Geeta gave it a good-bye tug, and hopped into the shower to clean herself off. The man watched from the table as Geeta covered her body with soap. Her ass was strong and tight, her breasts large but carried very high, her neck muscles clearly visible as they held up her beautiful head. The legs were athletic and there was hardly an ounce of unnecessary fat on the girl. It occurred to the man once again that there was no god, for if he had existed, the man would have met someone like Geeta when he was young enough to have married her. But he would have to take what he could get, and was content to see her once a week. He would not be allowed to fuck her for another ten weeks, but he knew next week he would be allowed to kneel before her, and lick her while she moaned and writhed, her hands pressing his head firmly into her snatch as her juices ran down his face.

Geeta stepped daintily out of the shower, wrapping her body with a towel. This made her customer a bit sad - it would be a week before he would see the girl's nude body again. He showered when he left the room, leaving as he always did when he fucked her a tip of $200 on the table. He dressed, and waited for the girl's return. She appeared dressed in a high school uniform, a white blouse and kilt, an outfit her customers all loved. Like most customers, this one had no idea that the uniform was genuine and that by fucking her he had just committed a serious criminal offence - in Canada it is very much against the law to have sex with a prostitute under the age of 18.

Geeta gave the man a parting kiss, no mere peck on the cheek, their lips locking together as she shoved her tongue into his mouth. She thanked him for the tip, and escorted him to the door. "You were awesome!" she whispered in his ear as they said their goodbyes. The man returned to his office where he resumed his duties as a senior vice president with one of Canada's biggest accounting firms. The staff noted that he was in a particular good mood all day long.

But Geeta was not in a good mood. Not at all. Her mother's sister, her Aunt Madhu, had been over at the house again the night before, distraught. She and her husband had been having financial problems for some time. Aunt Madhu was Geeta's favourite Aunt, so unlike her sister, Geeta's bitch of a mother. Aunt Madhu's husband had been unemployed for six months, during which time their mortgage had gone into default. The bank had followed routine procedure, referring the matter to one of their law firms when three payments were missed. In no time Aunt Madhu and her husband were sued, and now the bank's lawyer was trying to throw them out.

Aunt Madhu had not wanted to ask for help, but finally she had come to the house a week earlier, crying and needing money. But Geeta's mother refused to help her, saying their lucky sister Lakshmi, married to the brilliant young stock broker in New York should be able to help. But Lakshmi was even more of a bitch than Geeta's mother, and she had already refused to help Madhu. Madhu had left the house as she had arrived, in tears.

Geeta had visited her aunt the next day, bringing with her enough cash to pay all the arrears and the ridiculous legal fees demanded by the bank's rapacious lawyer. Madhu asked her where she had got the money. "Don't worry about that - just don't tell mom. And don't worry about paying it back, either," Geeta had replied. Madhu was too desperate to feel embarrassed about accepting the money from a schoolgirl, and thanked her niece most sincerely, although she was baffled as to where the girl had got the money. Geeta had thought that this was the end of the matter.

But it wasn't. Unknown to Geeta, her aunt or even the bank itself, the lawyer the bank had hired was a nasty piece of work, and a racist as well. He and his blond barbie doll witless wife lived out their white mangia cake existence in a beautiful home in Rosedale, sending their daughters to Bishop Strachan School, where there was no danger they'd mix with people of colour, or at least not Geeta's colour, other than the odd token girl allowed in, and who of course was never invited to other girls' birthday parties. F. Bernard Thompson not a scion of some well-established Tory family, no, not at all, although he liked to pose as such. He was unnecessarily ashamed of his trailer-park background and went overboard trying to conceal it, thus the shelves full of books he'd never read, the collection of classical CD's he'd never listened to, the wine cellar full of expensive bottles that he couldn't tell from plonk, and so on and so on. He despised his job. He hated being the minion of bankers, and his days at the office were spent filled with anger that he downloaded to a certain extent on the staff, but primarily onto the debtors he sued. The underlying source of his rage lay deep in his childhood, and barring years of psychotherapy, would never be discovered. And so he dealt with his anger by expending it on helpless debtors. He didn't just sue defaulting debtors - he destroyed them. He loved crushing the weak. It was obvious that debtors could rarely get good legal advice, and for all practical purposes, Thompson usually had no opposition at all.

Aunt Madhu was a case in point. The stupid immigrant had showed up at his office, pleading with him in her ridiculous accent. Mind you, he had noticed and appreciated her hourglass figure, but the woman hadn't thought to use her body to buy some time, and he'd sent her on her way, advising her that he'd have her out soon and the house up for sale. And so when he was told the woman's niece was in the reception area, he laughed to himself. It was so common for a debtor to send a relative as an intermediary, and so useless. He enjoyed such meetings. He would allow it to go on as long as possible - he was billing at $400 per hour, and he knew there was lots of equity in Madhu's home. He would be able to charge his usual outrageous fees on this matter with no problem at all.

He was a bit surprised when Geeta was shown into the boardroom. Aside from the fact she was exquisite, she was also a school girl, wearing the typical blouse and kilt uniform used by Catholic high schools. The girl looked so innocent and helpless. She was obviously nervous - breathing heavily, her otherwise perfect hair marred by one small strand falling down her face, unaware that the top two buttons on her blouse had come undone, showing a wonderful view of her beautiful breasts as she sat down after shaking his hand. This was going to be fun. He held his file in front of him to conceal his raging erection.

Geeta tried again to get him to accept the money. The bank was required by law to accept it, but Thompson cared nothing about that. If he let this family pay back the bank, he'd not earn much in the way of fees. And so he explained to Geeta his usual line, saying in regretful tones that things had gone much too far for that.

"No, young lady, I'm afraid there's nothing for it. Your aunt will have to leave her home and it will have to be sold. That's how the law works in this country, you know, not like back where you came from," added the racist pig. Geeta concealed her rage, but it took great effort to do so.

"Oh but Sir, please, please do not do this to my Auntie! She is such a wonderful person and it would hurt her so much. She doesn't even know I'm here - I'm offering you my savings for university! It's all the money the bank demanded! If it's not enough, please tell me what more you want. I will give you more if you want more. I will give you anything you want. I will do anything you want. Please Sir just tell me what I have to do and I'll do it!"

By this point Geeta was at the man's feet, giving him a very healthy look down her top. Her 36C breasts were in almost full view, under a very sheer lace bra she'd worn especially for the occasion. She knew men adored the way her nipples puffed out, and they were clearly visible to Thompson, who felt himself growing harder than he had in years. This girl was so unlike his pale wife - the same hourglass figure as her aunt, only so, so young and unbelievably beautiful. He'd had women offer themselves before to him in exchange for lenience, and he'd accepted when they were pretty enough. But could this girl, who surely wasn't older than 16, possibly be offering her perfect young body to him? It was out of the question, surely. In high school no girl of her quality would have looked twice at him. The very idea she would sleep with him, regardless of the incentive, seemed ludicrous. And yet here she was, on her knees before him, holding his hand in both of hers now as she begged, head bowed abjectly, her face hidden by the long, shiny perfect black hair.

He cleared his throat. "I'm not sure I understand you. Other than pay the money, which the bank is now refusing, what more could you possibly do?" he asked. The girl looked up at him, her eyes a startling green in her dark face. Her voice fell to a defeated whisper. "Oh Sir, I don't know what needs to be done. I'm very inexperienced in these things. I only know that what ever you need me to do, I know I'll do it." She knelt there motionless before him, her hands now on his knee, her head bowed again as she waited for his reply.

"Well, I'll have to think about it. I'll call my client and see if there's something to be done. But by the time the bank gets back to me, it will be rather late. Can you come back to my office tonight? If we are going to settle things, we'll have to sign some papers."

"Oh yes I'll bring my Auntie tonight no problem -"

Thompson cut her off. "No, we won't need her. Remember that legally, you're the one making the offer, and so the settlement will be with you. Your the only one who'll have to sign. Do you have a number where I can reach you?" Geeta gave him her cell phone number.

She wasn't sure she had hooked the lawyer, but just in case, she arranged with her mother that she'd be staying at her Aunt's after school that day, helping her out with some task or another. She and her Aunt got along very well - Geeta wished sometimes she could leave home and move in with her. Aunt Madhu was happy to have her niece over, bringing her tea and snacks while the girl did her homework.

Around 8:00 that evening Geeta's cell phone rang.

"Geeta, can you come to my office? I have some papers ready for you now."

"I'll bet you do, you bastard!" thought Geeta. "Oh Sir you are so kind that's wonderful but I'm all alone right now. I'm at work all by myself doing some bookkeeping at my family's business. I can't leave - I'm not allowed - it's not too far from your office please oh please could you come here I'm so sorry I wasn't supposed to have to work tonight please come and see me there's absolutely no one around to interrupt us I promise you!"

This was even better than what Thompson had planned. He'd been going to seduce the virginal young teen in his office, but that could be risky - always the chance of being interrupted by some stupid articling student or cleaning staff.

"Oh alright!" he said irritably, scribbling down the address the grateful girl gave him. Thirty minutes later he pulled up at an office building, and took the elevator to the fourth floor. He'd had to call up to get into the building, and Geeta had answered. The elevator doors opened, and she was there, still in her school uniform. "Oh please come with me, Mr. Thompson!" She seemed delighted to see him, and looked sexy as hell. Geeta walked him in, leading him to her boss's office, for of course they were at the massage parlour where Geeta worked. Geeta had told the other girls what was going on and they were laying low for awhile.

Geeta had covered the desk with papers and other items. "Oh Sir this desk has so much on it, can I take you to another room where there's more space to lay everything out?" Thompson agreed, and Geeta led the man to the nearest massage room.

"What kind of place is this, anyway?" asked Thompson. He'd never been to a massage parlour before and didn't realize where he was.

"My father is a chiropractor, and this is one of his examination rooms," replied Geeta. Thompson turned around as she spoke, and was shocked to see that her blouse was already off, and he watched in stunned silence as the bra came of next, and now the girl's magnificent breasts were fully exposed, jiggling as the girl kicked off her shoes. His mouth fell open.

 
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