"Eat me."

With pleasure, I thought, announcing with a slight hum that I would be glad to carry out her command. I had been awakened a short time earlier as her tongue had pressed against my lips, pushing them open, then past my teeth to allow our tongues to duel. Quickly I had rolled on top of her. Our lips met, like the lovers we were – and still are.

Soon I was nursing on her breasts, her nipples hard and engorged. They falsely promised milk but I knew better and couldn't complain. Those beautiful breasts had once provided me with nourishment, but that had been almost eighteen years earlier.

I see that I hadn't already told you that she's my mother. Her name is Li Shu, though she's never told me how the Chinese name translates in English. My father was American, a soldier who happened to be passing through Formosa, a/k/a Taiwan. Mom is now just thirty-two; you do the math.

Dad was by far not the first man to notice Mom's beauty, but he was the first to sample and enjoy her feminine charms. And the only one, until that rainy evening – or so they tell me – that I burst forth from her loins nine months later in Chinatown, San Francisco, California, USA. It was a long time before I learned that Dad had left Mom in San Francisco because he had a wife and two children patiently waiting for him back in Cincinnati, Ohio. He was not even around to celebrate my birth, nor did he ever acknowledge my existence. So I say fuck him and the horse he rode in on.

The Chinese people are very collegial, quick to help each other out in times of need. So we always had a roof over our heads. Still though, she had to contribute as best she could to our welfare. And pray tell, what talent does an unschooled single mother in a foreign land, no matter however beautiful she might be, have to offer the commercial world?

For that reason, Mom chose to rent out by the hour or the evening that part of her that had drawn the lustful glances and unequivocal words of those who would have enjoyed having her for free. For those of you women who've never had to peddle your ass, I was told that the first night is terrifying, the second one scary, and the third nerve-wracking. After that it's comparatively easy: collect in advance, no bare back, no back seats of dark cars, no kissing, carry Mace.

By the time that I was two, Mom had moved us to Los Angeles, California and hooked up with an out-call agency. The money was better, the work safer and she no longer had to work 24/7. She could raise me as a child should be raised, and she could afford a reliable sitter when she had to do an all-nighter. She made tremendous money as a sort of Lolita, young and luscious looking – good enough to eat, if you will - and physically small.

There's more to tell, but let's get back to that pre-breakfast time when she woke me up with her tongue. Once I had given up on the fruitless quest for fresh mother's milk, I began to kiss my way down her body. Breastbone, tummy, belly button. My tongue washed her little outie through with she had long since been nourished while she was inside the grandmother that I have never met. Actually I've never met either one of my grandmothers, but I cannot imagine myself tonguing my own Daddy. Not after his lies to Mom. May he rot in hell!

Then down again to that world famous opening, the one that gives Woman so much power over Man. The last part of that trip was through the thatch of jet black cunt hair, an exact match for the hair on her head. To be crude about it, her carpeting matched her drapes. Ever since I learned that Mom supported me by fucking strange men for money, certainly not for fun, I've wondered why she hadn't shaved down there. Without question, most men prefer to look at a clean shaven pussy. If you don't believe me, look at all those porn films and nudie magazines, even R-rated films.

When I asked her about it, Mom simply said that by the time a man got to look at her cunt, he didn't care what it looked like; he just wanted his cock buried inside of it. And for her it was like a badge of honor, letting the men know that she had enough serenity to be different from all the other whores in the world. I had no response to that. I spread her legs apart and dove into her wet swimming pool of excitement. My tongue tried to dry up all of her juices but it was no battle; I was no little Dutch Boy holding back the flood with my finger in the dike.

My tongue retreated back up to her clit while two of my fingers replaced it inside of her. She squealed with delight. The sound slowly morphed into a soft moan and then, as I sucked her clit, suddenly turned into a yelp as her first orgasm of the day exploded inside her, her body shuddering.

The first time that we'd ever done this thing, when she taught me the joy of cunnilingus, Mom told me that as a prostitute, most of her orgasms were phony, as Sally proved to Harry (and to his real life mother at the next table.) If you've never seen the movie, ask a friend. But she promised me that she would never fake it with me. Upon reflection, it probably meant that she didn't want me to stop before she really had that orgasm.

When her body stopped shuddering, my mouth released her clit. I turned my head, my own black hair and ear resting on her pussy, my face and lips against her inner thigh. When her breathing returned to normal, I raised my body and moved to kiss her. Her tongue flicked and drove into my mouth in a frantic search for the taste of her own juices.

"Thank you, Patsy."

Ah yes, Patsy. That's me, Patsy, your friendly interlocutor, beloved daughter of Li Shu. Our faithful scrivener, maryjane, in her own sick way has spent the last thousand words or so trying to make you think that I was a son, not a daughter. So be it. I am Woman.

And to reinforce her 'thank you', Mom rolled me over and returned the favor, diving through my matching black bush to bring me to a screaming cum.

I'd been having sex with boys since I'd been about fifteen. I gave up my cherry happily and reached orgasm quite easily with any boy I chose to let fuck me. I wasn't loose but neither was I a tough sell. I had never had sex with any female other than Mom, until later on in this story. With Mom, it had happened about two years earlier, when my hymen was no longer intact. She had come home from an all-nighter with some woman. Mom said that the woman had been quite satisfied but unlike nights with men, Mom had expected the woman to be willing to go down on her. Alas, the customer is always right and Mom had come home climbing the walls. Unfortunately, or maybe not so unfortunately, her vibrator was otherwise occupied, buried as it was inside me. I guess there's no need to explain how that little scenario ended.

I spent the next few years with boys – and teachers – and Mom. She spent that time with adults – and me. As a call girl, Mom had a good number of repeat customers. Some of them were given her 'other' phone number so that she could service them without any of the cash going to her 'modeling agent'. All were routine situations except one.

Farnsworth was a man born to wealth who took a liking to Chinese pussy. Farnsworth was 'married' to Clarissa. Clarissa knew about Farnsworth's dalliances with Mom and even encouraged them. What's more, Clarissa on many occasions would join the party, converting a twosome into a threesome. It was a very profitable arrangement for Mom, and for the lucky couple, the money was merely a rounding error.

Well, one night Farnsworth and Clarissa were doing their own private two-some while Mom sat there watching, sipping some Cabernet Sauvignon and wondering which bank account would get the deposit of the evening's fee. Her free hand was inside her twat, fingers marinating in Farnsworth's most recent deposit of fuck sauce. Clarissa looked over at her and, without consulting Farnsworth, asked her a question out of the blue.

"Li Shu, do you by any chance have a friend who might like to join us for a foursome? I'm sure Farnsworth would love a choice of three women, wouldn't you, dear?"

According to Mom, I was the first person she thought about. She knew that I'd never done it for money and she thought that I might like the idea. When they finished up the evening, or as the song goes, early in the morning, they made a new date. She told them that she had someone in mind but wasn't sure if she (me) would be available.

As an aside, while Mom was correct, that I'd never fucked for money, still I never fucked or blew a teacher without expecting the payment to show up in the form of a better grade than I had earned on the merits. However, I had always avoided any offers to use my back door.

I jumped at the chance to meet – and do – Farnsworth and Clarissa. After all, I'd had plenty of experience with sex, straight and lesbian, and I knew that I'd not likely ever go to college. Why not see if I enjoyed the nuances of a profitable undertaking.

By then, Mom was entertaining Farnsworth and Clarissa two or three nights a week, so it was only three days before she drove me to their home.

"Farnsworth, Clarissa, meet Patsy. Patsy, meet Farnsworth and Clarissa"

They moved forward and each of us kissed the air while touching the other cheek to cheek.

"Please to meet you," Clarissa said, looking me over somewhat like a meat buyer at a packing house. "How old are you?"

I was about to respond 'almost eighteen' when Mom answered for me.

"Fifteen."

Clarissa screwed up her face and looked at Mom. "That's kind of you, Li Shu. Do you think we might have some trouble here?"

I also looked at Mom, but I had enough sense not to make a face when she knocked three years off of my age, dropping me down to jail bait category. But she was a pro, knowing what her 'clients' really wanted. She also instantly taught me an Intern lesson: it's all right to lie to a client.

"She's my daughter. She has experience and we have no interest in making trouble."

"She's not a virgin?" Farnsworth asked, sort of disappointed.

"I'm afraid not. Would you prefer that I lied to you? Patsy could fake it if you wished, Farnsworth."

He blushed and said nothing more. Clarissa said, "I think that Farnsworth would like to get better acquainted with our new guest first, wouldn't you, Farnsworth?

She poured out four glasses of wine, but mine was only a small one. Mom nodded her permission for me to sip a bit. We retired to the bedroom, where Farnsworth and I sat on the bed while Mom and Clarissa sat next to each other on a couch facing the bed. They were obviously planning to observe Farnsworth and I putting on a show for them.

Farnsworth unzipped his pants and reached inside for his cock. He pulled it out and my eyes feasted on eight inches of flesh, fat as well. He laid back, an obvious invitation for me to take him into my mouth for a blow job. But I knew better than to take the easy way out.

"Farnsworth, we're not children in the back of your Daddy's car. Let's get naked and do this properly."

I could see the look of approval that he gave me as he stood up and began to work on the buttons of my blouse. I reached out and started work on his belt. Soon we were down to bare skin. I pushed him down onto the bed. I swung my body around so that I could take his cock into my mouth while at the same time showing my round ass cheeks to Clarissa and to Mom.

But I did not immediately begin to give Farnsworth his blow job. The boys I knew liked it that way, wham, bam. Mom however had told me that adult men prefer that it take longer. After all, they know better than do teens that getting to the orgasm is more fun than the actual ejaculation, because that means that they're finished for the time being. So I wrapped the fingers of my right hand around the shaft of his quickly hardening tool and began to slowly stroke it upwards toward my face. When that little droplet of almost transparent pre-cum oozed out of the little opening in his one-eyed monster, I kissed it before licking it off Farnsworth.

My left hand snaked between his legs and under his nuts. My fingers played with those little guys. Some guys shrink back in fear of what a woman's fingers can do by squeezing and pinching his balls. Other men press forward, serene in the knowledge that the woman would never deliberately hurt them, certainly not if cold hard cash has changed hands.