I open my track jacket, revealing my braless perky breasts. Sliding the jacket the rest of the way off, I use the same motion to quickly discard of my sweatpants, leaving me naked before him.
"Come here," he beckons, grinning with his yellow and brown teeth that always made this feel dirtier.
I move into my position, kneeling underneath his desk like I do every Thursday night at seven. As expected, he paws at my twenty-year-old flesh–one hand grazing my pussy, the other roughly grabbing a breast as I bend down.
A sharp gasp escapes my lips as he roughly mauls the tender orb. He quickly releases me so I can finish getting into position ... I look up at the desk-mounted timer and set it for twenty-one minutes.
"Ready," I say quietly.
He pushes his chair back underneath his desk, leaving me trapped with his cock staring me in the face. I didn't realize he even pulled it out. Steeling myself, I start the timer and lean forward, taking his cock into my mouth.
He is pitifully short, so I easily take the whole length in my mouth. Now I wait.
I'm expected to wait twenty minutes like this, just using his cock like a gag. I don't ask why, because it doesn't really matter. Once the timer goes off though, I'll get to work and finish him off.
Being stuck under this desk gives me a lot of time to think. I never imagined doing fetish acts for money, but finances are tight. I was browsing Backpage for jobs one day and for a laugh clicked the adult jobs link. Four guys and four different activities, each helping take care of my money issues for the quarter. This has become my Thursday night, and this is the first stop.
I'll leave here to go clean a guy's apartment–buck naked, and wearing what I call the "Butt Plug of the Week". I'll arrive, strip off, clean whichever plug he's set aside for me, let him insert it and then get to my cleaning. Last week I wore a horse tail butt plug that also could double as a flogger. I wonder what he has in mind for tonight.
My time with him will last about an hour before I'm off to my third destination–where I will spend forty-five minutes dressing up and stripping off various clothes and being spanked, groped, and fondled while bent over his knee. My time with him is the most disconcerting–while being spanked is by far my favorite foreplay activity, I have a sneaking suspicion that the clothes I try on once belonged to his daughters. That implication always makes me shiver.
.... There is more of this story ...